#Can use for other BMWs

[superblysubpar]

Sincerely, Yours:

bestfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: a movie night, a confession, an offer, your Calvin's bunched up on the floor of your best friend's BMW...and other places | 18+ Only, NSFW | main menu

the song: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds - all of steve's music

6.6k words

warnings: "inexperienced" reader - in the form of never really making out/receiving none/not great foreplay - masturbating for comfort/ease before sex, SMUT (public - in the back of Steve's car - "caught" by Hopper when you're done, oral, fingering, steve cums in his levi's cause I'm a sucker for doing this to him, what can I say?)

A/N: Once upon a time, I asked for requests, and I failed to fulfill many of them (you may have heard this story before), but this one sat in the drafts for many many months, and then I really chickened out posting it for a long time. Everyone say thanks to @palmtreesx3 - I owe her and the request for the prompt "we're not really just best friends, are we?"(which isn't even used in this, but you get the picture) and The Breakfast Club for this fic 💛

He didn’t hear it at first, over the last remaining popping kernels. 

“What?” He called around a mouthful of the snack he was already dipping into before it was finished. 

In the other room, your attention was strictly on Judd Nelson, but you tried again, with no real power or meaning behind the words. 

“Want me to pause it?”

“No,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes to no one but himself in the kitchen, “Don’t think you need to pause the movie I’ve seen three times…this week.”

“I’d love one, thanks!”

Steve snorted at your response that made no sense, it becoming apparent you weren’t listening to him at all.  He should have known this was his fate after the way you acted when it was showing at The Hawk. You saw it with him, then Robin, then Nancy, and Steve put his foot down when you tried to drag him down there for a fourth time.

Now here he was, dumping the popcorn into a large bowl and watching it again. He didn’t even know what number of views he was on with you, which had him worried about your sanity, ‘cause you had to be watching it without him too. 

Steve snagged two cans of Coke out of the fridge, assuming that’s what you’d love one of, and kicked the door closed with his heel. 

He cradled the popcorn bowl against his side and held each of the cans with one hand and spread fingers, socked feet slipping on the hardwoods when he rounded the corner and saw you again. 

Despite becoming incredibly bored by the movie, he did love watching you watch it, because somehow, it’s as if you’re watching it for the first time every time. 

Your white tube socks were stark against the dark wood of the coffee table, bunching around your ankles that led him to the exposed skin of your calves. Which led to the way your blue skirt fanned over your thighs all nice, then the Queen shirt he got you for your birthday tucked into it, your thumb between your teeth with your eyebrows bunched together. 

His best friend was really fucking pretty. 

He almost said it out loud, which had him flopping onto the couch a little quickly, a little too heavy with his fall. Careless in his aim of the cushion and causing popcorn to spill from the bowl into your lap as his shoulder jostled yours. 

Before he could even say sorry, you were grabbing the popcorn from your lap like it was the bowl, blissfully unaware it wasn’t, all the while making heart eyes at dreamy Bender.

“Thanks,” your appreciation came out heavy around the buttery and salty handful of the snack, the Coke you’d love sitting on the coffee table, already forgotten.

Steve hummed, his amused lips twitched in a losing fight against a smile at your captivated stare fixated on the screen. He suppressed an eye roll at the scene about to happen, as he swiped condensation off the cool metal of the can with his thumb. 

He popped the drink open with a loud hiss, slurping his first sip - a habit you’d normally swat at his chest for - but you were too busy focusing on the words about to leave Judd’s mouth. 

“Have you ever kissed a boy on the mouth?”

They sort of just tumbled out of Steve too, while his eyes glanced over the popcorn bowl, searching for a perfectly buttery piece. Which is why he didn’t see that he, your best friend, quoting the scene that has dialogue that got you all hot and bothered more than others, had your entire body freezing. 

Steve tossed the acquired piece into the air, catching it in his mouth before he turned to face your profile. He found you with widened eyes, chest rising and falling a little too quickly, and he grinned. 

“Have you ever been felt up…over the bra…under the blouse…your shoes off, hoping to god your parents don’t walk in?”

He’s simply delighted when he quotes the scene again and your body shifts, toes curling as you arched your neck away from. You kept your eyes on the screen, not giving him the satisfaction of eye contact because of what he was slowly, finally, realizing.

You were totally turned on and he couldn’t wait to tease you about it forever.

Steve leaned in closer, whispering along with the movie, “Over the panties…no bra…blouse unbuttoned…Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?”

He’s gearing up, about to tease you, make some dumb boy comment about being hot for the school freak, when your quiet, barely a breath response had him pausing. 

“No.”

Did you just say that out loud?!

Your head turned to find Steve blinking at you, creases in his forehead deepening beneath the stray locks of hair that fell forward. 

Looks like you did.

“Ste-”

“What? What do you mean no?”

Your eyes closed when you both spoke at the same time, avoiding his curious stare. Hands roamed to your cheeks to hide your face as your head fell towards your knees. 

As you shook your head no, your response gets muffled into your skirt. “I meant no.”

Steve’s hand nudged at your shoulder, prodding for clarity and for you to sit up. He failed to sound casual when his question came out incredulously.

“No, you’ve never kissed a guy?”

Your hands still covered your face as you fell back against the couch with a groan, “No, I..I have. I just…”

Steve pulled at your hands, his heart racing like it was overtime. All these years, he thought you’d been with all these other guys, his quiet jealousy seething under the surface of his tinged green from envy skin. 

A breath, well, more of a huff really, slipped past your lips as your gaze dropped to the hands holding yours in your lap. “I’ve never really made out with anyone? Just like…a quick kiss or two. I don’t even know, can you even count it as kissing? Over before it starts kind of thing…”

The ramble trailed off, the room silent save for the movie still playing and the giant, loud, big, fat, zero response from Steve. You counted the threads in the carpet, the pieces of popcorn in the bowl as your skin grew hotter and hotter from the reveal he’s left just hanging there until he  finally sputtered out a sorry excuse for one.

“Are you shitting me? We’re like…old.”

It doesn’t come out how he meant it to at all, he’s just shocked. He’s wincing almost immediately as the words reach his ears and brain, he knows how it sounded. He wishes he could take it back when your head whips up, hurt eyes meeting his as you ripped your hands away from him. 

“Yeah, Steve,” you scoffed, jaw pulsing as your voice dripped with sarcasm that tried to cover  the embarrassment, “I’m shitting you. Thought it’d be real funny to trick you into thinking your best friend is a loser who’s barely been kissed even though she’s so old.”

Pieces of popcorn fell from your lap as you stood, not letting yourself wonder where they came from as you stomped around the coffee table and towards his entryway. 

“No, honey, wait-” he stumbled after you, spilling Coke down the front of his shirt as he did, “Shit.”

He patted at his chest like it’d do anything, shirt damp and sticking to his skin as he rounded the corner and found you lacing up your converse and shaking your head. 

“It’s fine, Steve. I’m fine. I just don’t feel like talking about it. I’m gonna go home. Don’t worry about it. Girl stuff.”

“No, please, I didn’t mean-”

His words stopped just as abruptly as your body, when the front door swung open to reveal an out of nowhere downpour. 

Your head fell as you started to ask, and he was already one step ahead of you.

“Can you please-”

“I’ll grab my keys.”

He was tripping up his stairs by the time he finished saying it. When he returned, it was in a clean shirt, jumping from the second to last step as he swirled the keys around his pointer finger. 

The light blue fabric of his new shirt pulled at his shoulders that hunched when your glare remained unwavering despite the apologetic puppy dog eyes he had going for him. 

You understood Steve didn’t mean for the comment to start the hole he was digging, and you knew you weren’t being fair for being so upset. It’s not like it was his fault, it was just your own insecurities manifesting in an anger towards him. 

The nagging feeling of being some sort of freak who’d never made out while even the little twerps who clung to Steve were, while your best friend was Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High only grew stronger. The thought of Steve thinking you were some sort of weirdo for being old and never making out had something in your gut churning, had a familiar sting behind your eyes forming that you tried your best to ignore. 

When Steve opened his mouth, about to try to make it all better again, you simply turned on your heel and stalked out into the rain. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the way you stomped through it, pretending to not be drowned. 

He quickly rushed behind you and got to the door first and swung it open, to which you rolled your eyes at, but slid in and got comfortable while he closed it for you nonetheless. 

Unsure why he went and changed as he raced around the hood and shot into the driver’s seat, totally soaked through to his skin now. He cranked the heat before swiping fingers over his eyes, a large hand ran through his hair and pushed it back only for it to fall into his eyes again. Steve reached over with wet and shaking fingers at the same time you held yours up, both of you pausing and glancing at the other’s hands. 

Steve was about to cup your fingers between his and blow warm breath onto them, just like he always did, but you ripped your hands down to your lap, and curled your body against the door, like you needed to be as far from him as you could be. 

Your damp forehead touched the cool glass of the window as he sighed, “Please don’t-”

“Just take me home, please?”

The tone in which the words were said has something in his chest breaking. Like you were really fucking sad, embarassed, it was a real plea to just take you home and leave you alone. 

So he wasn’t gonna do that, ‘cause he never was a great listener, so why start now?

He pretends though, he backs out of the driveway and heads in the direction of your apartment. He lets the radio fill the space and he turns the heat down when the air inside the car is heavier and warm despite your cold shoulder. The orange glow of the street lights slanted inside the car in a soothing rhythm as his wheels spun over the pavement until he was coming to the last four way stop before your apartment. 

It unfolds just as he had planned, when he’s still stopped at the deserted intersection, as your breath fogged up the glass when you asked, “Harrington, you planning on leaving the intersection anytime soon?”

His bottom lip wobbled as his teeth continued to press into it, thick fingers rubbing at a scruff dotted jaw as he thought out loud in an attempt to sway you. 

“Well, you see, I could go straight and take you home-” he started. 

“Right. Let’s do that.” You waved your hand towards the direction of the apartment that held the ice cream you were desperate to eat and wallow with while watching Pretty In Pink. 

“Or,” Steve interrupted right back, tapping on the steering wheel with his finger as he did, “I could go to the right. Pull into the diner. Buy you a milkshake and say sorry?”

The thing was, he was gonna go to the right regardless of your answer. He knew once you pulled into the parking lot there was no way you’d not at least go in and get fries and a shake, if not a whole burger. You’d done this dance before, him putting his foot in his mouth was not a new occurrence. 

Your lips twitched, but your arms stayed crossed as he hummed and whispered, “Tough choice…tough choice…”

Shoulders fell in defeat, but your mouth stayed downturned in a forced frown as you grumbled, “And fries.”

Steve smiled, turned on his blinker and nodded. He cleared his throat.

“And fries. Definitely.”

“And none of that you order yourself a vanilla shake and I order strawberry and you drink half of mine because it’s better and eat all the fries shit.”

“Of course,” Steve scoffed, “I would never do that.”

Steve slipped his straw into your shake, pulling the glass across the sticky tabletop as you did the same with his. He tried not to smirk around the straw when you did, dipping a fry in his vanilla he ordered for a reason despite the strawberry being better. 

“Do you think Claire is a prude for never doing anything?”

He shook his head no almost immediately, swiping at stray ice cream from the corner of his mouth with his tongue. 

You fiddled with the straw wrapped between your fingers and narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Would your answer be the same if, say, Eddie was sitting here asking you? Not me, your best friend, who you have sudden pity for?”

He blinked at you and sighed, “I don’t have pity for you.”

“Your mouth and your eyes are telling two different stories Harrington,” you waved a fry at him as you spoke, gesturing to his face with it. 

Your gaze stayed on the fry you were ripping in half, focused on watching it sink into the sweet vanilla as he dared to say, “I just don’t get it.”

“What, that I haven’t done that and I’m so old,” you tried to tease, to move past it. 

But the way you were licking salt off your finger had him wondering if he swiped his own through the salt on the tray and pushed the pad against your lips if they would part like they were now, if he could taste it on your lips if he just leaned forward and-

“No, ‘cause you’re so fucking pretty.” 

He definitely said it out loud that time. 

You blinked at him, cheeks suddenly too warm for the cold and damp Spring that had been surrounding you all day.  

“Ste-”

“And so smart,” he licked his lips, leaning forward, unable to stop now that it was out, “And funny. And…and sweet, you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know, I just don’t understand how guys aren’t falling over themselves, unable to do anything but make out with you, or more or-”

“I never said I didn’t do more,” you whispered, ignoring all of his compliments that made your chest feel all tight and sticky and choosing to argue with him instead because that was easier. 

“But you said…if you haven’t made out with anyone…” 

Your body slipped lower against the squeaky seat, embarrassed as you shrugged and Steve felt too hot in the tiny little booth, thinking about all those guys’ hands on you again, and then what you said, what it meant, really clicked. 

“Hold on…how…how’d…you didn’t, build up to it?” He asked softly, eyes bouncing over your face with worry. 

“Steve,” you grabbed for the other shake, and sat up straighter, “We don’t need to talk about this. It’s not import-”

“It’s so important,” he grabbed your hand and squeezed your fingers lightly, “Half the fun is all the build up to it. And,” he swallowed, forehead creasing with deeper worry, “And then it, it doesn’t hurt. ‘Cause tell me if I’m wrong, but if they weren’t making out with you, were they doing anything to make sure you felt good?”

You squirmed in your seat, fingers pushing up against his mindlessly, aimlessly, as you shrugged again. “It’s only hurt a few times. I learned that if I…um, If I got myself ready beforehand, that I was, uh, more comfortable.”

Steve’s fingers let go of yours with the excuse of grabbing a fry, because he was trying not to be a gross guy, but all he could think about was you in your bedroom, with your fingers between your thighs now. Did you play music? What song? Did you have underwear on? What color? With a shirt that your nipples were visibly hard through as you touched yourself and maybe it was his shirt or maybe you said his name or-

“Right,” Steve nodded, “Um, right. And that’s great, lots of people do that for a date, so like if you need or want to beforehand that’s not…that’s great. It just shouldn’t be the only thing, you know? They should be putting in the work, they should be wanting to. And dates! They should watch a movie with you, and dinner and drive around and then kiss so much you feel dizzy and then if you want, more.”

He finished his rambling speech and you smiled softly, unsure of what to say, because you knew he wasn’t wrong, it’s just that they had. 

“They did,” you sighed, “Well, not Paul.”

Steve scowled at the table, “Yeah, well, I’m sure you weren’t missing much. Who wants to yell out Paul?”

“Oh,” you laughed, “And Steve is so much better?”

He looked up at you, your smile sweet and kind and your eyes a little sad, but trying not to be and he wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell you that if it was those lips and that voice saying it, it was better, because how could it not be? Like his name only had the best letters, like it belonged to the best guy in the world, one that belonged to you and no one else. 

But you were swiping at ice cream on your lips and sighing, saying something that made his chest ache instead. 

“They were nice dates. And it’s not like the sex was bad. But,” you looked out the window, eyes tracking the droplets of rain twinged neon from the light hanging above you both, “The kissing till I’m dizzy sounds nice. Is it…is it fun?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispered, admiring the way the red and blue lit up your profile before you turned to face him. 

And then he was saying something before he really thought it through, because god you weren’t just fucking pretty, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever met and no way in hell was he letting anyone treat you the way you’d been ever again. So this was his chance, and he was taking the leap.

“I could…” he blew out a breath and smiled. He sat up straighter, and he searched for some sort of lingering king steve confidence he could latch onto without all the douche as he asked, “I could show you?”

To both of your surprise, you’d said yes, and he paid and you were in the car, driving, and parked somewhere in what felt like seconds. Now your best friend sat across from you, both of you facing the center console, but not daring to do more. 

The rain beat against the roof of the maroon car, each drop a punctuated tick of a nonexistent clock - a meter for how much time was passing without movement, without words. Just both of your breathing filled the space. First exhaling, then desperately inhaling for more air as your chests rose and fell ragged. And then, like in some unspoken agreement only best friends can have, you both started to lean forward cause you just knew. 

Your heart’s thrum threatened to drown out the rain, building and building, screaming to break out of your chest, pounding in your ears while your cheeks grew warm and your stomach dipped as Steve’s tongue slipped out quickly and wetted his lips. 

But then he leaned and his eyes started to close and you giggled, fingers slipping over your lips as his eyelids shot open. 

“Sorry,” you gasped and shook your head and your hands out as you tried to be serious, “Your ‘I’m about to kiss you’ face is real cute, Harrington.”

Tried being the definitive word. 

“Cute?” He groaned, smiling, “Not sexy?”

You leaned in, faster this time, a smile matching his as you shrugged, “It’s nice. Never thought I’d be on the opposite side of it, is all.”

It’s easy to tilt your head and welcome the hand that reached up to cradle your jaw as he softly promised, “Your ‘I’m about to be kissed face’ is really cute too.”

The pad of his thumb brushed over the apple of your cheek in the tenderest touch you’d ever felt, before his fingers curled under your jaw and tilted you gently, slowly, up so his lips were right over yours. 

It felt like he was handling you like the most precious and fragile thing, like a prized possession that he’d only ever hold with care and never let another soul touch. 

His breath fanned over yours, warm and sweet smelling, vanilla and cherry just out of reach for you to taste as you dared to quip back again. “Alright, I’m gonna have to cross reference these lines with other girls you’ve promised to make dizzy, Harrington, cause if that’s the first time you’ve used that, I’m afraid it’s far too smooth…”

Steve’s heart felt like it was trying to claw out of his chest as you laughed, smiling at him when he responded, “And, I think that’s enough out of you.”

Which you couldn’t help but reply back to with, “Yeah? Have some fancy trick to get me to stop talking?”

He laughed, low, muffled and deep in his chest. “A few.”

A sharp inhale slipped past your lips when his nose bumps yours, not realizing how close he’d gotten while you joked back and forth nervously. There wasn’t a protocol on how to let your best show you a proper make out, on how to just dive in and start, you just knew you wanted to. 

Steve’s swallow bobbed his adams apple as the leather beneath you creaked from shifting weight, needing to get closer. And as you did, his eyes found yours, mossy and dark in the low light, the browns and golds washed away in the rain. Their gaze flitted down to your lips, back up to fluttering eyelashes, and then his own eyelids were closing. 

All it took was another breath in, an exhale out, and his lips were on yours. A simple, slow press, holding your top lip between the both of his. Strawberry and vanilla teasing you, and soon he was moving, now bottom lip between his and you got it. Your mouths parted together, lips slotting in a rhythm that came naturally, that clicked. 

Something in your stomach fizzled and crackled like the sparklers you lit every year in his driveway on the fourth as the sigh from his nose hit your cheek. Body warm and sticky in a way that was usually reserved for Summer when his fingers skated over your jaw, up and around your ear, until they were cradling the back of your neck and pulling you closer. His mouth moved with yours in a way that could only be described as frantically graceful - needing more, hurried, hungry, but with the promise and precision of someone who knew what he was doing. It had your stomach dipping, like a freefall, like the greatest and scariest thing you’d ever felt. 

If he’d have opened his eyes, he’d have found you with your hands suspended between your bodies though. Fingers not quite brave enough to reach up and get lost in his hair, but not content to just sit in your lap and do nothing either. 

And if you'd opened your eyes, you’d have found his other hand gripping the center console like he was hanging on for dear life. ‘Cause holy shit was he trying to go slow, but kissing you was like chasing the last few minutes of sunlight in July - sweet and fleeting and magic - something you needed to make last, to soak up every last drop of until you couldn’t any more, not by choice, but because the sun has to set and he has to breathe.

In a shared gasp for air, you parted, but his lips were back on yours immediately, making your stomach swoop even more, like an entire family of butterflies had decided - hey, we live here now and we’re gonna make a ruckus so get used to it.

You didn’t mind. 

Steve’s fingers found yours and without breaking his rhythm, he tugged, guiding them to his shoulders that were practically on your side of the console now, which wasn’t doing something great to his already somersaulting stomach. 

He slowed down as your fingers brushed over and back on the collar of his shirt and his hands cradled both of your cheeks, pulling you off of his lips regretfully. You were both breathing like you’d run a marathon, his forehead pressed to yours as he gasped out, “Dizzy yet?”

“No,” you lied. 

He grinned, tip of his nose tracing the bridge of yours as he admitted, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you like that.”

You couldn’t even respond, couldn’t tell him you wanted that too, couldn’t tell him that it was something you only dared let a daydream or two convince you it could happen before you were shutting it down, cause he was still talking. 

“And now that I have,” he swallowed, his thumbs glided down opposite sides of your neck as he shook his head, “I’m never stopping.”

Then he was kissing you again, and if you thought he was frantic before…

You had this feeling that even if those other guys had made out with you, kissing them wasn’t and never would be the same as kissing Steve Harrington. 

Soon one of your feet was on the seat, the other bracing yourself in the footwell. He had a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck and yours were finally starting to dare to journey past their spot on his shoulders and then your skirt was caught on the gearshift and he was stopping you again. 

“Honey, what are you doing?”

“So was that ‘never stopping’ just a nice sentiment or are you planning to back it up with action?” You huffed, distracted by pink lips that twisted into a crooked smile as he looked at your pretzeled body. 

Your shoulders fell as you nodded your head towards his side of the car and admitted, “I just want to be closer.”

“Oh, right.” Steve swallowed, and you wondered if it’d be weird if you kissed every freckle and mole you could find on his throat. Something told you he wouldn’t mind when he asked, a little more eager than you’d heard tonight, “Backseat?” 

And you clambered out of the car, the slowing rain soothing to heated and flushed skin under the mussed clothes, and then you were both meeting in the backseat, but the nerves returned. The way you both glanced at the space between you and were immediately and acutely aware of the lack of anything between you except doubt and fear. Was this a mistake? What about your friendship?

Steve looked at the space, at you, and then held up his finger in the symbol for one sec as he said, “Hold on,” and half climbed back into the front seat. His torso draped over the console as he loudly opened the glovebox and rummaged around inside, before he was fiddling with the radio, and falling back into the seat. 

His cheeks pink, but his smile wide as he looked at you again. “Hey! I’m so glad we could do this tonight. You look beautiful. Ready to watch your favorite movie?”

“Wh-what?” You laughed, totally and utterly confused. 

He tugged on your fingers, and pulled you to the middle, until you were slouched next to each other, shoulders touching as he shushed and said, “The Breakfast Club is starting.”

And the music playing over the radio,Simple Minds, a cassette he must have put in, had your chest swelling with something that was sure to burst and explode and kill you, because the boy was actually pretending you were on a couch, on a date, in a living room, watching a movie - it was perfectly Steve and you, and the best first date you’d ever been on. 

His left hand picked up yours, resting it on your thigh and played with your fingers. The pads of his traced up and down and over your hand as he stared at the windshield, his temple resting against yours. The music played, and his fingertips swooped between the curves of each finger aimlessly, the sides of his fingers running down yours and back up making it really hard to concentrate on the non-existent flick. 

When you finally relaxed into his side, when you flipped your hand over so he could draw little loop de loops on your palm, he quietly asked, “Who’s your favorite?”

“Brian,” said without hesitation. 

Steve groaned, in pain, “Ugh, you would like him the best.”

You laughed, turning to look up at him a bit from where your head had fallen to his shoulder, “Don’t knock him Steve,” you spoke softly, fondly, “You’re a lot more of a dork like him than you think.”

Steve made a pft noise, fingers now interlaced with yours as he turned his head, the tip of his nose touching yours as he looked down at you with the sort of look the guys give the girls in the movies, one that should be illegal from the way it had that family of butterflies shouting about their presence again and fluttering around. 

“Hey Steve?” 

“Hmm?” He hummed, eyelashes fluttering as he sighed when your thumb brushed over his knuckles.

“This is a really great…first date?” You asked, hopeful that it wasn’t just an offer, that you weren’t some game, that the guy next to you was just as crazy about you as you were him. 

“Yeah?” He smiled, proud, and then bragged, “Wait till the second one.”

It was your turn to hum, to look into his eyes and get a little lost as his mouth parted and you both scooted closer, waiting, as he squeezed your fingers wrapped around his. 

“You’re making the ‘I’m about to kiss you face’ again, Steve,” you whispered, lips brushing his as you did.

“Right,” he whispered back, bottom lip catching yours as he suggested, “Which means you should probably stop talking again.”

This kiss wasn’t as easy and smooth, made difficult by grins of fools who were totally in love but wouldn’t admit it just yet, but how could you both not be after years together?

But you smoothed it out quickly, and soon he was swiping his tongue over your bottom lip as his hand gripped at your waist a little tightly. He traced over your top lip as your entire body turned towards his, like a plant in search of sunlight, his body on yours fundamental to your survival.

He gasped as you straddled him, your mouth swallowing the sound as his hands roamed up your sides, taking the hem of your shirt with it so his fingers could scrape at the skin just under your ribs before they dared to drift along the band of your bra.  

You let out a sound that he’d never forget as long as he lived when you finally lowered yourself, skirt fanning over your laps so the sinful way he pressed up against your pristine soaked Calvin’s was slightly hidden. The unclip of your bra and the removal and toss over the seat was fluid, and you couldn’t think about it because the way his hand on your chest felt, the thumb over a pebbled nipple was something you’d only let yourself think about in moments of need before a date that wasn’t him. 

Steve was wrong, the build up was more than half the fun.

The way his hands buzzed against your spine like the air after fireworks, the way his tongue brushed yours, the way he couldn’t help but guide your hips to rock against him. Denim hitting cotton in the exact right spot so the nerves underneath it got the friction they were aching for, while your mind ran away from you, thoughts about how this was just getting started. How there was more. 

His lips left yours and his smile pressed to your jaw when the action got a soft whimper to fall from you. He tutted into your neck, lips grazing over an erratic pulse as he whispered, “Can I touch you?”

“Is that,” your breath hitched around the words as his tongue licked a thick stripe over your neck that extended, “Is that a part of making me dizzy or the more, when I’m sufficiently so?”

“You’re not yet?” His teeth scraped at where his tongue had just been. “I like when you say words like sufficiently, ‘s’hot.”

You laughed as his lips kissed the same spot, and then he was sucking, skin beneath his tongue warm and sending a message to your brain that you liked that a lot. 

“Yeah,” you hiccuped, eyelids fluttering in their view of the car’s roof as you arched and his hands gripped your hips, “Yeah, touch me.”

He didn’t have to be told twice, arm around your waist holding you steady while the other traveled under the hem of your skirt. His mouth moved to below your ear and as his fingers glided up your thigh. He sucked and kissed, and sent that message to your brain again, having you say his name and god’s in the same desperate sentence. 

Steve wasn’t gonna last much longer. 

Especially when his fingers met the wet cotton and you moaned, so much filthier than he’d have thought possible. Especially when he circled over your clit through the fabric and you rolled your hips with the movement, far dirtier than he thought you were capable of. 

“Fuck baby, you’re soaked.” He mouthed at the collar of your rucked up shirt, looking down at the way your hips rolled over his but he couldn’t quite see what was underneath. 

You hid in the crook of his neck, hot, and you didn’t know if it was because the windows were fogged and Steve was so fucking good at this or because you were embarassed by how turned on you were from his next words. 

“Please, I gotta,” he slipped a finger under the fabric and you shuddered as it ran down your slick and back up, “I gotta taste you. I need to put my mouth on you. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”

You were on your back, Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat, with Steve crouched between your thighs not even a minute later. 

Thick fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt from his spot, blown out pupils taking over his stare up at you. One of your converse pushed to the other side of the car against the door as your fingers curled around the base of the sweating window above you. 

Steve kissed your knee, and made his way higher between your legs slowly, until he was flipping your skirt up and swallowing as he stared at the space like it was a fucking artwork. 

You giggled, nervously under the intense awestruck stare, squeezing your eyes shut as he strained to get out, “Fuck, honey, you’re trying to kill me.”

He was mesmerized, the way you clenched around nothing, his thumbs spreading you so he could see just how wet you were for him. 

He was really not gonna last much longer. Straining in his jeans painfully like a teenager. 

And that was before you whimpered, before you said:

“Steve, please.”

“Only,” he swallowed, leaning down so his breath hit your cunt in a way that had your hips wiggling, and him closing his eyes, “Only cause you asked so nicely.”

His thumbs held you open, massaging the sides as his tongue licked once, slow and broad, following the path of his nose up to your clit. He did it again, and again, and again. Until his fingers were slipping inside of you, pumping in and out of walls that held him tightly and his mouth sucked at your clit. Then you tugged, forcefully at the curls at the back of his head and practically screamed his name. Like it was full of only the best letters. Like it was yours. 

Your stomach burned, the butterflies angry and in your chest now too, on fire, but happy about it. Steve’s fingers inside of you and mouth on your clit better than any orgasm you’d ever had, and you couldn’t help it when you came without warning, toes curling inside of your converse that kicked at the door and his thigh, while your fingers slipped on the window and your chest ached for a breath as it yelled his name in a way that the whole world would have to know how you felt when they heard it. 

He didn’t pull away until you were gasping and your thighs were shaking and your fingers loosened in his hair. His cheek pressed to your thigh as he stared up at you and gasped out a proud, smug, “I’d like to see Bender of Brian do that.”

You laughed, tired, but happy, and he crawled up your body, kissing any part of it he could find while he ignored the uncomfortable wet patch in the front of his Levi’s. 

Except you noticed and raised your eyebrows at it, a little smug yourself as you said, “Bet Claire couldn’t do that.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but then you were both flinching as a loud smack of something hit the back window. He glanced up and cursed under his breath, rolling down the window slightly as he called out from on top of you, “Hey, Hop.”

There was a loud, deep, sigh from outside as you both sat up with apologetic faces and Steve rolled down the window further. 

Hopper’s cigarette smoke wafted in as he looked at the pair of you with a touch of surprise when he saw it was you next to Steve in the fogged up beemer. He shook his head, frown under the mustache forced.  “It’s past eleven. On a weeknight. Have some decency and do this at home in front of a movie like normal people next time, yeah?”

You both nodded, your teeth pulling at your lip in a terrible attempt at not smiling. 

He walked away, and you and Steve slapped hands over each other’s laughs and snorts, but you still managed to catch the quiet, “Bout damn time.” 

And when Steve dropped you off at home, with a kiss to seal it all and a promise of a real date tomorrow that he’d pick you up for, you shoved the bunched up Calvin’s in his front pocket with your own promise, whispering in his ear the words “Sincerely, yours” before you left him with his mouth open on the front steps, watching you walk away. 

[ellabscrush]

— play with my pussy, not my heart.

a/n; this has been an idea in my head for awhile but kept scrapping it, hopefully this is alr. btw my requests are opennn.

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

cw; smut, mdni, fingering, reader has a nervous habit that might triggering, dom!reader, flirting, language, slap kink once, arguing, abby is a dick here lol, trust issues, angst?? lmk if i missed any!!

sypnosis; your well known girlfriend who has a reputation of being a player finally decides to settle into a serious relationship with you. aware of your girlfriend’s past, abby’s project partner comes to intervene with your thoughts & worries. back and forth arguing isn’t going anywhere, you had to show her other ways on who not to mess with.

— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —

“it’s just a small study sesh baby, nat even agreed to do it at our apartment!” abby walks towards you as she hovers over, “so no need to worry, ‘kay?”

she caresses your face and pecked your lips.

nat, aka natasha ferreira, is apart of western university’s dance team. you’ve seen her around before wearing white flowy skirts and layered jewelry. you once heard her talking about how her parents got a brand new bmw for her quinceañera.

i guess there was nothing to hate about her, other than the fact she is gorgeous and very talented with her dancing. this was just another one of your stupid overthinking.. right?

“okay abs.. thank you,” you gave her a soft smile.

“that’s my best girl.”

besides, trust was the thing you both had been working on these past months. dating abby was going to be a challenge. you knew it and your friends knew it. though they weren’t too supportive with her intentions at first, you were convinced abby could change her acts if she reallyy tried.

three knocks suddenly interrupted your little conversation. abby sprinted to the door and opens it to find a joyful figure in front of her.

nat gasps, “abby! this is my first time seeing you outside of uni,” she smiles with excitement.

abby smiled back and leaned for a hug, leaving you to stare at them with a lump of jealousy in your throat.

— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —

one minute you were next to abby, and then the second the brunette is touching forearms besides her with those stupid doe eyes, glossed lips, and weirdly seductive black platform heels. god she’s annoying.

“your handwriting is shit!” the brunette teased, giggling as she leans to abby.

“yeah?” your girlfriend chuckles, “this is what you get for choosing me as your partner.”

nat shrugs, “well then i can deal with it.”

you tried so hard to not be bitter. really you did. but each time you glance at the two across the kitchen island, you swore the both of them were doing this shit on purpose.

sudden eye contacts with you everytime they laughed together, unrelated conversations, and some flirty remarks. oh, and not to mention the obvious footsies that was happening under the table. like you can literally see it.

“fuck me..” you muttered.

“what’s that princess?” abby asks you, the nickname made nat changed her demeanor quickly.

you turned back to meet nat’s eyes, then to abby, and back to nat.

“nothin’ love,” you put a convincing smile.

three hours long night full of giggling and jokes you didn’t even get later on.. you find yourself yelling back and forth in your shared bedroom with abby who literally couldn’t understand where you were coming from.

abby groans, “goddamnit we talked about this!”

“i never did anything to her, you were literally infront of us,” she raised her voice.

“abs, she deadass rubbed her foot on your leg multiple times and leaned to you everytime you both laughed..”you went on, getting more frustrated by the minute.

“well.. we’re just having a little fun, is that romantic to you?” abby asks with her hand crossed to her chest, her facial expression screams ‘you’re being crazy.’

you were exhausted trying to find ways to communicate without bringing up abby’s past, like you both agreed to. however, your concerns shouldn’t supposed to end in argument. you shook your head, letting out a long sigh and sat on the edge of the bed.

“i- i don’t know abby,” you stammered, “i guess it is romantic when they do the things i do to you.. since i am yours.”

you gazed down at your feet with teary eyes while unaware as you were digging your nails into your thighs. this was a nervous habit of yours in which you don’t realize you have been doing it for so long. your girlfriend, however, does.

she slowly walks closer to the edge of the bed and kneeled down to your eye level.

“you are mine.” her voice sounding more reassuring and softer like you could faint at that moment.

“i thought you could’ve been better for me..” you sniffled

abby panicks once she realizes you were crying, “baby no.. fuck i’m trying..”

“trying?” you looked up.

the blonde sighs, “will. i will be better.”

she moved your hands from your thighs with one hand, while other pushes your head closer to hers for a deep kiss. more so, a sloppy one. she wipes your cheeks and the kisses started from sweet, to mean in a heartbeat. abby stroked you waist, making you clench you thighs together.

abby smirks, “you turned on princess?” she asks and you just whimpered in response, “fuck.. i gotta wake up early tomorrow.”

knowing your girlfriend has plans tomorrow morning, this sparked an idea in your head. abby can become a submissive mess when you’re in charge. so you decide to show her other ways who not to play with, and whose pussy she can only play with!

“so?” you replied in between kisses, “don’t want me to scream your name tonight?”

.. besides, making her miss out a big free brunch with her friends the next day will be an added punishment you thought.

the blonde smiles and throws you to the middle of the bed, causing you to squeal from the unexpected move. abby aggressively pulls down your shorts and underwear. your wet slick was ready for her.

“look at you all ready for me,” she circles her thumb on your lips slowly, “gotta fuck that jealousy out quick or else i’ll be late tomorrow, princess.”

you smiled maliciously in response as you bite your lip. abby then shoves her two fingers inside your mouth, “open.”

she pumps her ring and middle finger in and out. being all soaked in your drool making it wet enough to fit in your pussy. the sounds of your whimpers made her go crazy. you shut your eyes feeling abby’s cold, drenched fingers sliding inside.

your body shuttered, “s-shit baby..”

the sounds of your wet pussy is practically making abby drool.

“feels so fuckin’ good, keep going,” you ordered keeping a strong eye contact with the blonde, “just like that..”

“that fucking pussy,” abby whispers, you licked your lips looking down at her fat fingers going in and out, “you needy whore,” she degrades.

her words were like fire and heaven at the same time. you wouldn’t be so pissed off at her if she hadn’t let nat be all over her for three hours straight. now it’s your job to remind her whose pussy she can fuck. and the only one.

you let out an airy laugh, “i’m the whore hm? atleast i wasn’t flirting with another bitch,” she looks up at your face. you were trying to keep your composure while being mercilessly fucked.

you sat yourself up with elbows on the mattress, “you proud of yourself huh?” just inches away from her stupid smirk.

“faster,” you demanded.

she curled her fingers inside of you, hitting your g spot like a pro. you can help but let out a moan and rocked your hips in rhythm. that smirk of hets turned to an amazed expression once she hears your juices sloshing around.

“fuck baby,” abby was practically drenched under her pjs wanting to taste you, “p-please need to taste you.”

“nuh uh, you’re being mean all day. you don’t, f-fuck, deserve me.”

abby was desperate just by hearing you speak like this. you’re such an angel around her normally, like when she first met you, you were different than the other girls she had met before. she fell for you. but damn that mouth of yours was killer in bed.

the rare times you controlled her was only when you were pissed off at your girlfriend for the amount of disrespectful flirting that was happening in front of you, or not giving you updates on what she’s doing with her girl friends. however, you can’t blame yourself for having mixed trust issues knowing how many girlfriends abby has had.

maybe you’ve been too patient with her? letting shit go so easily?

“shit- c’mere” you groaned and kissed her viciously at the thought of her fucking another girl. one hand around her neck while the other grips her loose hair.

“mmm, keep going..” you moaned in her mouth.

abby rubs your clit, feeling your juices squirting all over her thighs, “p-please baby.. lemme clean you up” she begs to lick your folds but you resisted.

you slapped her cheek, her needy face turning red.

“shut up,” you growled, “better stop messing around.. i deserve fuckin’ better.”

abby whimpers, putting her head back in frustration. she then looks down to see you, a dripping pussy drunk mess. her fingers were sticky and all tired. however, she’s not stopping until she screams your name.

“atleast say my name when you cum,” she pleaded, “please.”

her voice made you feel every type of way. your thighs starting to heat up, a familiar feeling as you have had fucked yourself with the thought of her in the past. pounding noises as you thrust your hips on to her fingers harder puts many heated scenes in your head.

“abby.. oh my god- m’ fucking cumming..”

“that’s my girl, ride daddy’s dick,” she encourages you.

an orgasm was washing over you, “abby you’re mine. fuck- ah-“ you burried your face in the crooks of her neck.

“all yours baby, i’m sorry.” she kissed all over your shoulder, genuinely feeling bad that she didn’t give you the reassurance you wanted earlier.

“abs- fuckfuckfuck,” you screamed out, screaming her name loud enough the apartment below could hear you, “i hate you so much..”

“i love you princess.. love it when i make you cum..” she admits. your legs shaking like crazy, feeling overstimulated.

you know how that goes..

once you orgasmed, you let abby suck her fingers, tasting every bit of yourself. and just like that, you were laying down with a fast pounding in your chest. she caresses your stomach and kissed all over your body, still needing to feel you more. but knew you needed her the most.

“hey, you okay?” she asked softly, looking at your sleepy eyes. she just wanted the both of you to be good. “i’m fine.. just a little tired. i feel like you don’t know how badly it hurts me to see you purposely being all over people like that.”

abby sighs, knowing she fucked up. she didn’t want to be that person anymore. she loved you, really, but her actions just aren’t the thinkable. you both sleep skin to skin while she stays up to watch you fall deep in your sleep.

“i love you, angel.” she whispers. feeling all the guilt in her chest, your girlfriend pulls you in closer.

of course, she had to make it up to you the next day so she cancelled all plans. it’s not like she got up in time anyway.

well now you both know she won’t ever be doing that shit again.

— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —

[saintobio]

⊹★⋆ two wheels and a hot guy.

pairings. gojo satoru, fem!reader tags. 1k wc, biker boy x biker girl au, non-sorcerer au, crack, fluff, dirty jokes (?), satoru rides an s1k, biker!sukuna mentions, same au as my other fic. sparked by a random idea bcos why haven't we thought abt biker!gojo honestly? he would be so funny on tiktok if he was a biker boy lmao

You’ve all heard about Biker!Sukuna. That famous biker boy on biketok who has tattoos and rides a blacked out Yamaha R1. 

But have you heard about Biker!Gojou? 

Well… For starters, Satoru Gojou wasn’t a seasoned biker. 

In fact, he was more of a poser than anything, but you’d never catch him admitting that. His prized BMW S1000RR, the crown jewel of superbikes, was more about image than skill. The sleek, aggressive lines of the machine, combined with the prestige of the BMW logo, were all he needed to keep up appearances on TikTok. And he learned that appearances were everything, especially when Sukuna, with his obnoxious face tattoos and natural charisma, hogged the limelight (especially from all the girls!) with every post, even with a girlfriend already in tow. The sheer audacity of that scum was enough to drive Satoru up the wall. Fine, he had to admit. He was jealous of Sukuna’s popularity and the fact that he snatched a cute booktok girlfriend as his backpack. 

Suguru, his best friend and fellow biker, didn’t let him forget it either. As they stood by their bikes outside Barnes & Noble to spot booktok girls, Suguru glanced at Satoru’s liter bike and smirked. 

“Pretentious motherfucker,” he muttered, slinging a leg over his Yamaha MT-10, the less flashy but undeniably badass naked bike. Unlike Gojou, Suguru didn’t care about clout. The MT-10 was all about raw power and agility, the kind of bike a real rider appreciated. “You only got that thing because it’s a BMW. You gonna actually ride it for real one of these days?”

“Shut up.” Satoru rolled his eyes, adjusting his white Alpinestars riding gloves while holding his phone up to go live on TikTok. Starting with a 1000cc as a beginner bike wasn’t a very wise choice, but still... “People love the S1K, you know that.”

And let me tell you about Satoru’s favorite time of the day (or night). It was whenever he would go live, and the comments would pour in as soon as his stream started. That was when he could lavish in his social media presence the most.

user19463: Bro, when are you gonna show us some actual riding content?

anon875biker: All that thirst trapping. Bet you don’t even take that thing out of the garage. 

harleysRbetter: U punks R ruining the riding community! 

Gojou grinned at the screen, winking at both his followers and haters. “Alright, boomers, calm down. I’ll post some riding content soon. Don’t cry too much before then, yeah?”

r1.skn: Sir, can you do wheelies? 

Suguru found that comment hilarious, recognizing the username and knowing exactly who it belonged to—Sukuna. But Satoru’s competitive nature kicked in instantly while he continued to scroll through the comments. “Yeah, I can do wheelies. Ignore Sukuna, guys. Focus on me!”

msbikerluvr: Still looking for a backpack, Gojou? Lmao.

“About the backpack… you know, I’m just waiting for the right one. Applications are still open—” He was about to launch into another witty retort when a sound cut through the chatter of his stream—it was a deep, throaty rev that sent a shiver of excitement down his spine. Satoru’s head immediately whipped to the direction of the sound, just in time to see a flash of race blue zipping down the street.

There you were, riding a Yamaha R7, your black Dainese jacket hugging your curves as you leaned into the wind. The way you handled the bike, so smooth and confident, it was as if the motorcycle was an extension of you. 

“Damn, she’s hot.” Without a second thought, Satoru ended the live stream abruptly, “Gotta go, guys. Someone just stole my heart,” and pocketed his phone.

“Did you seriously just—” Suguru started, but Satoru was already mounting his S1000RR.

“Catch you later, Suguru!” he called, gunning the engine without even looking at his best friend. Soon enough, the 1000cc bike roared to life when he shifted into first gear, and he sped off in pursuit of the blue R7.

He caught sight of you at the next red light, the signal holding you in place just long enough for him to catch up. Thank God there was no sign of a biker boyfriend around when he pulled up alongside you, visor down, adrenaline still kicking him alive. He tried to get your attention by revving his S1K, and you turned your head slightly, barely acknowledging him as you pulled your visor up and revealed the prettiest eyes Gojou had ever seen. 

Satoru flipped up his visor too, then flashed his most charming grin. “Hey there,” he said, trying to keep his voice smooth and casual. Like it was a normal encounter. “You’re fast. I like that.”

You may have rolled your eyes, but he could tell you were smirking underneath the balaclava as you talked through the Cardo intercom linked to your AGV K1s. “And you’re obnoxious. I don’t like that.”

Oooh, she’s spicy. He laughed at the silly thought in his head, unbothered by your dismissal. “Come on, don’t be like that. I’m just trying to get to know the girl who stole my heart in the middle of a live stream.”

“Your heart, huh?” you teased, revving her engine just slightly. “Sounds like you’re more interested in what’s under my jacket.”

“Now that’s a baseless accusation,” he retorted, leaning in slightly. “I don’t do anything on the first night, you know. I usually wait until the second, after a nice dinner. I’m a gentleman like that.”

His remark made you snort, shaking your head at his boldness. “You’re a ridiculous guy.”

“But I’m also serious,” he added, his voice sincere despite the playful glint in his eyes. “Let me take you out, just dinner. No strings, no funny business—unless you’re into that kind of thing. I don’t mind that, either.”

Your laughter sounded like a sweet melody to his ears. “You’ve got guts, mister. I’ll give you that.” Has anyone told you how hot you looked while leaning into your bike? Damn. Satoru was distracted, checking you out for a moment until you spoke again, “Fine. One dinner. But don’t think you’re getting into my pants just because you ride a fancy bike.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised, grinning from ear to ear.

The light turned green, and without another word, you revved your engine and took off with Satoru right on your tail. The chase was on, but this time, it wasn’t just about the thrill of the ride. 

For Satoru Gojou, it was about something far more exhilarating—winning the attention of the most intriguing biker girl he’d ever met. 

And perhaps, the biker boyfriend and backpack girlfriend content he’d been hoping to post on Tiktok may slightly change into a different direction than he expected. 

[alanaaii]

Shopping w connie.☆

!plug connie & ur just a spoiled brat.

nsfw. car sex.

“ma you know what you wearing friday?” You shook your head, scrolling on your phone. You and connie were suppose to go on one of your monthly dates this week but your closet just wasn’t giving. “I don’t have s-h-i-t in my closet.” You pull the blanket that you and connie shared on the couch. “that mean i gotta take you shopping?”

You knew what that meant—a full day with connie with no distractions. All about you you and you. Finally deciding to get up and start the day, you took a warm shower and got dressed. Sliding on some black leggings and an essentials hoodie. As you did your edges in the mirror, connie came behind you and snuck his cold fingers up your hoodie.

“connn your hands are cold” you whined as you shuffled to get his hands out. “I just wanna feel you mama”. You turn around and push his hands out. “you can feel on me when i get the stuff i want”. You was a big brat. “come on then” You and connie headed out to his all black tinted BMW. He opened the door for you as you hopped up into the passenger seat. He sat on his side and started the car and made his way to the mall.

Once y’all get there, one hand is entangled with connie’s surprisingly bigger hand and your cute pink purse in the other. “where to first ma?”

you pull connie to your favorite store.

Your eyes glowed as you saw the expensive shoes and clothes on the walls.

“pa do i have a limit?” You looked up at him, batting your pretty eyes. You knew connie would spend every last penny he had on you if it meant you would be happy. “go crazy”

And you did just that. Picking up any cute pair of jeans and putting some scandalous things for connie to see you in later. Once you were done you let the woman behind the counter scan all of your stuff. “girl i know your man love you”

All you could do was smile as connie took out a band and began to pay the total.

He grabbed your bags as you make your way out of the store. “thank you papi”. Standing on your tippy toes, you give him a small peck on his lips. “anything for you mama”.

The rest of the day consisted of you putting things in connie’s hands and him buying it.

As you two headed to the car connie was overloaded with bags. “damn ma you about to make me go broke” He huffed as he put the bags into the trunk. You were sitting in the passenger seat sipping your smoothie that you got from the food court.

As he got into opposite side, you put your hand on his perfectly tatted arm, softly rubbing it. “i’m sorry, everything was just soo pretty”. you pout. “let me make it up to you pa” You dragged your hand from his arm to his pants, feeling him stiffen at your touch. Since his car was heavily tinted nobody could see anything. (this is how you got away with everything ;) )

As you leaned into him you pressed your freshly glossed lips into his pink ones. Slowly pushing your tongue into his mouth. You snuck your hands into connie’s sweatpants and pulled out his already erected dick. His tip already moist from the precum you wrap your hand around his dick and pressed your thumb on his tip, circling it. You slowly break the kiss—a string of saliva still connecting you two.

Dipping your head down to spit on the tip before you wrap your mouth around it. Connie bit on his bottom lip, holding in his grunts. Bobbing your head up and down slowly—making those sloppy wet sounds connie adored.

Connie began to thrust his hips into your mouth. forcing you to take him down your throat, gagging on his length. “Fuck maa..jus like that..” He said in his deep raspy voice that had you weak in the knees. You feel him pulse. You knew he was close so you got on your knees and began to give him that gawk gawk combo using your hand and your mouth.

Connie slapped your ass before putting his hand in your leggings. he slid your panties to the side and rubbed your soaking wet cunt, satisfying the heat that was in your core. His long fingers prompting you go moan on his dick, the vibrations overwhelming connie. He couldn’t hold it. “‘m bout to cum ma”

He took his fingers out of you and grabbed onto your head, pushing your head down as he painted your mouth white. He groaned. “that’s my girl.”

you took one big gulp as the bitterness went away. You lifted your head up and looked at your phone camera. Ruined makeup, sweated out edges and all. “Come sit on it mama” He said lowly as he reclined his seat back.

Sliding your pants off but keeping your panties on, you move over to connie’s side and gently slid down on his dick. He grunt as he feels your gushy walls suck him in. You position yourself before you completely lose yourself. You hold onto connie’s shoulders to keep stable before starting to move. Up and down the sound of your ass clapping against connie’s thighs was like music to his ears. You desperately bounced on him, your juices dripping on the seat. (connie doesn’t mind.) You feel your cunt clench around connie as you felt his thumb rub your clit. This man knew how to make you orgasm quick. It’s like he knew every part of you like the back of his hand. Moaning his name, he put his hands around your waist and pushed you down onto him. “fuckkk”

“you gon’ cum on me mama? huh?”

You could feel your knees about to give up on you as your orgasm was coming. One final thrust and you came all over his dick. Your cum making a ring at the bottom of connie’s dick as you rode out your high. Connie press his lips onto yours to suppress your loud moans as you came down.

“i love you ma”

“i love you too con”

“another round at home?”

Likes, reblogs and follows are always appreciated!

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+ [6K] friends with benefits, but oh no! there's feelings. canon adjacent, kind of? smut, summer, car sex.

You heard the rev of the engine just before the headlights flashed over your bedroom window, casting shadows over your sheets, your own silhouette on the wallpaper. You didn’t need to look to know who it was, the sound of the car idling across your street, waiting. 

You did anyway, fingers parting the slats of the blinds as you turned off your television, grabbing a sweater to shove on, feet stuffed into sneakers as the knit fell to just above the hem of your skirt. A few months ago you would’ve rushed to check your reflection in a mirror, sprayed some perfume, dabbed on some gloss, maybe a cherry flavoured balm on your lips. Now, you just grabbed a set of keys from the dish in the hallway before you closed the front door as quietly as you could. You should’ve told your parents, you knew that. Hawkins wasn’t as safe as it used to be, teenagers getting murdered in broad daylight, an Indiana summer scape being used as the scene for some ripped off horror movie plotline. 

But sneaking off into the night with a pretty boy was all part and parcel of being young, wasn’t it?

The BMW was parked under a street lamp opposite your driveway and when he saw you making your way down, the boy got out of his car, greeting you at the passenger side with a kiss that he ducked down to give you eagerly before opening the door. 

It wasn’t always like that. The terms and conditions of this… situation, used to be a lot more strict. There were rules that came with hooking up with the guy from the video store next door. A casual fuck at a party became accidentally more and long gone were the days that you’d been pressed against a wall by someone who was more man than boy now, stubble scratching across your chin and jaw as you kissed him, tongues tasting like tequila, like cherry vodka and cheap beer. 

And you’d had enough sense left in you that night to pull away, gasping, panting, your hands in his hair as his snuck up your shirt, just barely, thumbs pushing nicely into your waist. You’d let your half lidded eyes drag across his pretty features and recognition managed to take over drunken hormones, over want. 

“Hey, you’re the guy that works in Family Video, right?”

And he’d nodded, smiling a little lopsided as his gaze stayed on your lips a second too long, loving the way they were glossy and bitten red by him. “Mhmm,” the boy had said. “Steve. You’re the ice cream girl.”

Not much else was said that night, not when the girl from the ice cream shop liked the way the boy from the video store tasted. You liked the way Steve held you, how he pressed you into a dark corner of someone’s house party, his eyes only on you even when there were so many other girls trying to get his attention. He’d walked you home when the sun was coming up, his sports jacket draped over your shoulders, your shoes in your hands. You’d written your number on his hand with an eyeliner pencil, smudged but there. 

He’d kissed you again when your neighbours sprinklers turned on, when the birds started singing from the cherry trees out back. It was a soft thing, too soft and too gentle not to mean much but when he pulled back, he squinted at you, looking regretful. 

“I, uh, I’m not looking for anything serious right now,” he confessed. Steve looked sad about it. “I don’t wanna lead you on— I just, there’s a lot going on right now, you know?”

You didn’t know, but you understood. So you nodded and shrugged, the boy's jacket moving against your shoulders and you could smell his cologne, the smoke from the party, your own perfume where it now lingered on the collar. 

So you said, “that’s okay. Doesn’t have to be serious, if we don’t want it to be. We can just… I don’t know. Hang out.”

Steve grinned that night, pleased, cheeks a little pink, ‘cause you both knew what hanging out meant. So he nodded too, told you to keep his jacket and that he’d get it back later, told you he’d see you soon and maybe he could take you for a drive or something. 

Casual, no labels, no expectations. No feelings. 

You were pretty certain that was the night you started falling for Steve Harrington. 

—————

You took Steve’s offered kiss with your chin tilted up, trying hard not to smile, failing when he held out a hand for you to hold as you ducked into the car. He shut the door for you, crossed the front of the beemer, lit up by the headlights, his white t-shirt hanging loose around his collarbones, threadbare and worn. His hair wasn’t done like he usually didn’t it, the messy strands falling across his forehead instead of pushed back. It made him look softer, like the Steve you’d grown to know past midnight. 

It had been months since that party. Months of hooking up on lunch breaks, using the staff room of the ice cream parlour to make out in instead of sharing food, rushing to Steve’s parked car to fool around in the back, letting the windows steam up, a sight too salacious for daylight. You didn’t date, Steve didn’t take you out to dinner, or the movies. You didn’t ask him too. Neither of you had met the other's parents, or friends. You knew a lot about Steve’s life, but you weren’t exactly enveloped in it. 

That’s how it was supposed to be. Just sex. Fun. 

But then Hawkins fell to scandal, a murderer on the loose, a boy you once knew from school. Weird goings on, strange sounds from the forest, news crews parked on streets, hoping for the latest story. Steve wasn’t around as much and when you did see him, he was with people you didn’t know as well. Nancy Wheeler, a kid called Dustin, Max Mayfield and another boy from the school basketball team. 

You’d watch across the street as Steve closed up the video store hours too early with Robin Buckley, rushing to his car with his friends in tow like there was some sort of emergency. So lunch hour sex sessions turned into late night drives, when the rest of the town was asleep and every house you passed was lit up by the street lights, by the aquamarine glow of backyard pools. 

Subtle changes happened first. There were still no dates, no talk of feelings. In fact, whatever was stressing Steve seemed to only be fixed by fucking you. He wasn’t rough about it, not mean, nor careless. But there was a different kind of urgency when he parked up somewhere dark and hidden, pushing his lips to yours and sighing hard like he’d been waiting all day to taste you. Eyes closed, forehead pressed to yours as he let you pant into his parted lips, quiet, soft noises mixing with the slap of his hips against yours. And when you were both fully dressed again and he was ready to take you home, he pressed extra kisses to your cheeks, your hand. 

He’d stare at you, longer than he used to, eyes filled with something you weren’t able to place yet and the boy would tell you to promise him you’d be safe. 

Steve would watch you until you made it inside, he’d do that all the time. But now he was in the habit of only pulling away when he saw your bedroom light flick on, your silhouette waving to him from behind the glass. 

After that, Steve took to kissing you more and more, sex not required. A kiss hello, sweet and chaste, a kiss goodbye, longing, meaningful - even if you didn’t know what it was yet. He was touchy, more open, talking to you and opening up when you’d get into his car and see the boy’s tired eyes. He’d tell you it was fine, that it was nothing for you to worry about. But you spotted a bat in the back seat footwell once, an old looking thing with fucking nails poking out the top.  

Steve had turned a little ashen when you stared at him, promising you earnestly that it was only for protection. You know, because of everything that was going on. You weren’t sure what made you believe him so easily, but you did. Night time drives turned into make outs broken up with Steve burrowing his face into your neck as you raked your hands through his hair. You’d watch him grow sluggish, words drowsy as he spoke about how the bad guys aren’t always bad, are they? And should we really believe what the cops on TV are telling us? And wouldn’t all of this just be so much easier if people had superpowers?

You weren’t sure what any of it was supposed to mean, but you’d nodded and dotted your lips over his hairline, letting him lean heavy against you until he scrubbed a hand over his face and coaxed you into his lap, telling you softly that he’d feel a lot fucking better if he got to make you fall apart with his fingers. 

You let him. And you returned the favour too. 

—————

You knew tonight was different by the way Steve was white knuckling the stick shift, antsy as he brought his touch to your bare thigh instead. He rubbed his thumb there, exhaled heavily when you covered his hand with your own. 

“Are you okay?” You asked him quietly. You didn’t dare break the quiet, the one that only came with driving out of town when the sky was inky, when the wheat fields whispered in the breeze and the bus stops stood empty. Hawkins was asleep, but there was something that Summer that made the town feel less than peaceful. Maybe it was the ‘wanted’ posters on every street light. Eddie Munson’s face staring back at you. “Steve?”

“Yeah, yeah, m’fine.” He glanced at you, taking his eyes off the road for a second or two. He looked heavy, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Atlas, the man with the earth on his back, cast in marble, ready to crumble. “Just a little stressed ‘bout stuff, that’s all.” 

It was the same answer he always gave. You assumed it was his parents - his dad and his relentless tenacity about his job, his future. Maybe it was Keith, giving him a hard time about shifts. Maybe he had a friend in trouble. You were ready to ask, to pry a little deeper when the boy said:

“You’re not, uh—  you don’t get headaches, do you? Like bad ones.”

You squinted at him, confused. You watched the streetlights run over his features, casting the boy in a white-yellow glow before they stopped completely, signalling you’d reached the edge of town. The water tower passed you both by, only fields, the road and stars for company now. 

“Um, no more than anyone else who works with sugar loaded ice cream and six year old customers all day,” you joked. “Why?”

Steve didn’t laugh, shit, he didn’t even smile. He looked as serious as before and he ignored your question in favour of asking his own. His hand squeezed at your knee, affectionate, his thumb running circles into the inside of your leg before he had to let go to shift gears. “You don’t have nightmares, do you?”

You were really confused now. You leaned back against the door, watching as empty farm pastures blurred past Steve’s face. His lips were pressed right, concern in every part of his face, drawn in there like it was permanent. He looked tired, scared. Your throat drew tight. “Steve, is something wrong?”

“You’d tell me, right?” Steve was slowing the car down, pulling into an empty gas station lot that sat on an desolate road a few miles out of town. The place hasn’t been used in years, the pumps empty, the shutters on the windows covered in graffiti. But the neon sign above the roof still flickered, bathing you both in red and purple lights. “You’d tell me if something was bothering you? If you felt like…” Steve swallowed harshly searching for the right words. “If you didn’t feel safe?”

You unclipped your belt to lean forward, your hand resting on Steve’s thigh. Your brow was furrowed in concern, a worry knotting in your chest because you’d never seen the boy this serious. “Steve, what?” You watched as the boy exhaled again, a heavy, shaking thing and he looked at you with the most tender eyes. “Hey, hey, Steve, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

Steve swallowed, throat bobbing hardly and his face crumpled, frustration and worry easily read. He was scarlet lights and inky shadows, neon purple bathing the dashboard as rain started to fall on the windscreen. Light drops of it, dotting here and there until it got heavier and heavier, a dull roar against the car roof. Water droplets slid down the windows, racing each other and Steve tried to find the words. 

He couldn’t. 

“I can’t, I’m sorry, I can’t really explain. Not right now,” Steve dragged a hand through his already messy and he truly did look apologetic. He looked so tired. “Just, please, you’d tell me if something was wrong, right? If you needed help with something, or, or, someone to talk to? You’d come to me, wouldn’t you? You know you can talk to me? About anything? This— this isn’t all sex, I know, fuck, I know it was supposed to be but, shit, we care about each other right? I, I care about you— ”

You nodded, eyes wide, moving as close as could over the middle console, the parking brake digging into your tummy so you could clasp his cheeks between your hands. You soothed your thumbs over the slight stubble there, eyes searching his, wondering if you’d find any answers there. You didn’t. So instead you kept nodding, hoping the boy would believe you. 

“I’d tell you, Steve. I’d come to you, it’s okay. I’m fine, yeah? There’s nothing to worry about, not with me, okay?” Your voice was urgent, hushed, a frantic whisper almost drowned out by the rain. 

But your words seemed to soothe the boy and he visibly relaxed, face leaning into your touch. “So, no nightmares?” He asked again. 

“No nightmares,” you promised him and he turned his face into your palm, kissing the skin there, the way a boyfriend would. It made your stomach flip, an undeniably tender gesture. “Are you okay?”

Steve nodded, eyes closing briefly to gather himself and the lights made the shadows under his lashes turn a deep ruby red. The rain splashed the hood of the car, puddles in the forecourt, purple lights reflecting back like an oil spill. “Yeah. I’m sorry, fuck, it’s just— I wish I could tell you.” Steve let his head fall back onto the seat when you moved your hands. “You must think I’m insane, right?”

You smiled wryly, bringing your feet up to rest on the dash, a move he would’ve told you off - semi jokingly - a few weeks ago for. “No more than I did when I first met you.” Your skirt gathered at your thighs with the move, pooling in the cradle there, cheap silk, lilac and more suited for a trip to the mall rather than a rainy night. But Steve tracked the movement, gaze dropping to the bare skin it uncovered before his eyes found your own again. “And for the record, Harrington, I care about you too.”

It seemed to break something in the boy, those earnest words, real enough to shatter, to make someone crumble in the best way. He punched out the breath he’d been holding and he leant his cheek against the headrest, eyes on you, amazingly soft. “I just wanna keep you safe,” he whispered and the statement made your heart ache. 

This wasn’t part of the agreement. This wasn’t even in the rule book. 

“I am safe,” you whispered back, brow still wrinkled in confusion. “Is this about Eddie Munson? The police are looking for him, Steve, they’ll find him soon—”

“Somethin’ like that,” Steve tried to smile but it was thin and tight lipped. “I didn’t mean to worry you, m’sorry.”

You smiled, still confused but eager to bring the boy out of his strange mood. You wanted to help, you wanted to comfort. “It’s okay,” you told him, soothing a hand over his thigh again. “You don’t have to worry ‘bout little, old me.”

Something in Steve’s expression told you maybe all he really did was worry about you. But he didn’t say anything more about it, not then. He just slid his hand over your own, let his fingers wrap around your wrist and climb up your forearm, tugging gently. “Hey, c’mere,” he whispered and you knew that look, you knew that tone of voice. 

Wanting, needy. Desperation coloured it this time, something new. 

He’d normally meet you in the backseat, lips crashing in the middle, a faux argument about who was on top that time. But instead, Steve just coaxed you onto his lap, sliding his chair back from the wheel to make room for you, your legs spread in either side of his hips. He seemed greedy for you, wide palms sneaking under your sweater immediately, the stitch between his brows softening once he got his hands on you. 

“Wanna touch you,” the boy sighed and he sounded far away, voice dreamlike now you were closer, like his worries had been eased. “Can I? Wanna make you feel good, think ‘bout it all the time,” he confessed, leaning in until his forehead was pressed to yours, his chin tilted up to meet you, noses bumping. 

You nodded, eyes falling shut because all you wanted to do was feel. It was easy with Steve, easy to close off the rest of the world and put all your trust in him. The cocoon of his car felt safe, warm and smelling like leather and his cologne, the hazy light filtering through the rain on the windshield, a kaleidoscope of crimson and violet. 

“Yeah, please,” you nodded and your voice sounded so much softer and smaller than before, like you were giving into it, like you were begging him. 

Maybe you were. 

His hands found the hem of your sweater at the same time yours found his, but you tugged at his cotton shirt with more insistence. You watched his face falter, like he was remembering something. You frowned, fingertips searching under the material for the familiar feel of his warm skin, the trail of hair that led down his navel and into the band of his underwear. Your brow wrinkled deeper when you found something scratchy, a crinkled band that seemed to wrap around him. He flinched when you pressed your palm to it. 

“Steve— what—?”

“Babe,” Steve tried to placate you with sweetness, his eyes worried, his hands holding your waist and pulling you closer. “Jus’ leave it on, yeah? It’s—”

“Are you hurt?” 

You couldn’t help it, worry and panic taking over and you hated that you didn’t listen to the boy but you were tugging up the hem of his top before he could protest. A bandage was wound around his torso, crisscrossing at his stomach, climbing up to the bottom of his ribs. There was a dark shadow under the right side, like there was a bruise hiding there, or worse. 

Suddenly, all the talk of keeping you safe seemed laughable. Your eyes watered at the sight of him, the skin that peeked out from the edges of the wrap a little mottled, an angry red mixing with green and yellow. “What happened?” You sounded distraught and the watery concern Steve that could hear was thick in your throat and it made him fucking ache. 

“Nothing,” he tried to lie, but he sounded tired, like all he did was avoid the truth. “I’m okay, I swear. I promise you. I just, I just took a bad fall. Bruised my ribs, caught myself on somethin’ sharp, or  whatever, but I’m good.”

You didn’t believe him. Your heart was telling you not to. But Steve Harrington was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and he was too exhausted to argue. You stared at him, saw how he pleaded with you, silent, hopeless.  

Your hands found his jaw, thumbs smoothing over the apples of his cheeks and held him like he was precious. He was. So much more than some guy you found in the dark corners of a stranger’s house party. Who would’ve thought?

“Are you in trouble?” Your voice wobbled. You felt helpless. You were trying to tamp down the ugly thoughts in your head, wondering about all the worst case scenarios, thinking about the kinds of people who could do this to someone. You wondered if your dad could help, if he’d give you some cash if that’s what Steve needed, the spare room, a way out— “can I help? What can I do to help?”

“No, no,” Steve answered with a new sense of urgency, eyes wide. “No, listen, you’re staying far away from it all, okay?”

The fact Steve didn’t deny that there was something to fear, that there was something he was caught up in - something he wasn’t telling you - made your worry spike even more. “Steve, what the fuck is go—” 

You were cut off by a kiss. A crushing thing, all consuming and it swallowed your words, your worries, your tears. Steve was warm all over, his lips just as hot, soft and plush and always tasting like mint chapstick. He chased your mouth as you went to pull away, an argument still on your tongue but he kissed you until you turned pliant, hands falling from where they’d been planted on his chest to winding around his neck. You made a soft noise of defeat when his tongue licked over the seam of your lips, your mouth opening for him, the kiss turning deeper. You took in the sound of Steve’s shaky gasps, the way his hands mapped out the curve of your back, the dip of your waist. 

Steve kissed you until you both couldn’t breathe. 

You pulled away panting, eyes heavier and half lidded than before and Steve’s were no better. He was trying to coax you back, his fingers on your chin but you were reminded about what lay under his shirt and your features were crumpling with concern again. 

“M’gonna hurt you, I’m too heavy,” you whispered, aghast, shifting onto your knees awkwardly as if you suddenly just realised you were sitting on his lap. “Steve.”

“No, hey,” Steve protested, squeezing at your waist until you sat back on his lap. He whispered your name, serious. “You’re not hurting— Jesus, stay please? I’m fine, okay? Please. Babe, please, just…” he looked up at you, words trailing off and lingering in the small space that was between you both, floating in the red-purple light. 

It was still raining. 

“What do you need?” You asked him and you tried not to let your eyes turn glassy but the boy underneath you was gazing at you like you were the first one to ask him such a question in years. “What can I do to help, Steve, huh? I’ll do it, okay?”

“Need you,” Steve managed to choke out and he looked lost, he looked desperate but his eyes were hungry and falling to your lips and god, god, his hands were trailing up the sides of your ribs and he was groaning softly when he found you’d left your bra at home. “I swear to god, I promise, I just need you.”

It made it easy to fall into him, lips pressed to his as you tried to hold yourself off of the boy, just slightly, enough to hopefully not cause the boy any pain. But Steve was having none of it, sighing against your mouth and tugging you forward, his hands gripping your hips, sliding underneath your sweater and along the waistband of your skirt. He groaned, a sound you knew well, his lips chasing yours as he kept you pressed down in his lap, the cotton of your underwear pushed to the denim of his jeans. You kissed him back, pliant before turning eager, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you resisted the urge to roll your hips over him. 

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” you whispered again and you sounded scared, worried. “Steve.”

“Shhh,” Steve soothed you with a hand on your jaw, tugging you back, keeping you grounded against his. His thumb was pushing to your cheek, trailing down to catch over your lip, his mouth ghosting over yours. Your noses knocked, breaths mixing. “S’okay, m’fine, yeah? You’re fine, babe.”

Steve watched through hooded eyes as he coaxed you into moving, a gentle back and forth of your hips over his and he smiled, nodding when you let out a soft noise, forehead falling to rest against his own. “There you go, there she is,” Steve whispered and it felt fond, it felt familiar, the way he spoke, the way he held you. 

It didn’t feel like something friends did, not even friends with certain benefits. Not anymore. Not with the way he was looking at you. 

“I just need to, fuck,” Steve let his head fall back onto the chair, chin tilted up to watch your face, the scrunch of your nose when something made you feel good. He was blue in the shadows, navy, inky. Scarlet skin, red cheeks, purple lights making him ultraviolet. “I just need to feel you, I’ve not stopped thinkin’ about it all day, I swear. Is that crazy?”

You shook your head, lips parting as you let out a heavy breath, the kick up of Steve’s cock in his jeans hitting your clit just right. You kept rolling your hips, slow, even strokes over him. “No, s’not crazy,” you let out a quiet whine, chasing Steve’s touch as he gripped your hips a little tighter. “Think ‘bout you too.”

“Just wanna— wanna switch off sometimes, you know?” Steve groaned when you reached for the button of his jeans, wrapping an around your waist as he lifted his hips and helped you tug the denim down one handed. “Bein’ with you, it helps. It helps so much. I just wanna get lost in you— baby—”

Steve cut himself off with a groan, eyes clenched shut and the term of endearment falling from his lips too easily. You’d ached as he spoke, staring at his soft eyes, the tiredness around them, busying yourself with freeing his cock from from his boxers until you knelt up a little and pulled your own underwear to the side. 

You were already wet from his kisses, the way he’d helped your rock your hips over his, but god. God, Steve was a stretch. The boy would normally work at you before hand, legs spread for him in the backseat so he could fit two fingers inside, his tongue and mouth helping ease you, melt you. Then he’d give you inch by inch, jaw unhinged and eyes dark as he talked you through it, telling you how good you were at taking his cock. 

Desperation won over this time, though. It took a little squirming, a wriggle of your hips and a sharp gasp until he was fully seated inside of you and there was always a dull burn as you did. It was worth it though, to feel so suddenly full, to watch the way Steve’s brain seemed to glitch at the feeling of you wrapped so tightly around him. He moaned, brows scrunched together as he pressed his fingertips into your hips so hard you were sure he’d leave a lavender coloured map of touches behind.  

“Shit, shit,” the boy gasped out and he clung to you as you did him, pulling you into his chest so he could wrap both arms around you, big hands spanning across you back. “Baby, fuck, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

You felt breathless at the sensation, stuffed full, your nose pressed to Steve’s neck as he surrounded you, as he held you. You shifted, just slightly, adjusting as he throbbed inside of your cunt and Steve hissed sharply through his teeth. 

“You’re gonna make me fuckin’ come, ohmygod.”

You laughed, softly, not at all mean and pressed a kiss to his cheek, nuzzling closer as you stayed still, just for a minute. “Easy, cowboy,” you murmured. Steve’s hands moved to your ass cheeks, grabbing them, kneading them. “You okay?”

He nodded and you pulled back enough to see the way his cheeks flushed pink, lips parted and eyes flutter closed. The boy sucked in a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, you just feel so fucking good. You’re so warm,” he marvelled. 

It was getting harder and harder to stay still, your cunt clenching around Steve’s cock, making you both gasp, soft noises falling from each of your mouths and it was anyone other than Steve, you would’ve seen embarrassed at the wetness gathering at the base of his cock, coating the insides of your thighs. “Can I move?” You asked him, whispering. 

Steve nodded, too blissed out already, his pretty brown eyes getting that far away look to them. Hazy, fuzzy, dreamlike. He seemed less tired now, less stressed, less tense. So you lifted yourself up gently before settling back down on him, the tip of his cock nudging deep inside of you and it made you cry out, a strangled sound that Steve stole with a kiss. He kissed you through it all, hands everywhere at once, roaming over you, sneaking under skirts and sweaters to slide over your bare skin, like he was making sure you were real. 

There was a neediness to it all that surpassed hormones and urges. 

So you let him, kissed him back with just as much fervour as you rode him, hips moving slow and gentle, the pressure building between you both, filling the air in the car, filling the cracks between your ribs and it made you spin, it made you dizzy. You kissed Steve until he didn’t look so blue anymore, and when you pulled back, letting him mourn at your neck, your jaw, your chin, the rain had stopped and the purple light above the gas station was flickering. 

“Steve,” you sighed, your voice cracking, watery. 

“I know,” the boy mumbled back and he sounded the same. 

You were staring into his eyes when you came. One hand pressed between your sticky thighs as you pushed mean fingers to your clit, the other in Steve’s hair, holding him to you, anchoring yourself. Steve swore as he felt you tighten around him, pussy fluttering as you came, movements turning a little messy and unbalanced but the boy gripped you under the ass and helped you move through it all, fingernails leaving crescent moon marks on your skin. 

“M’close,” Steve groaned, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and you could feel the heat from his cheeks, the softness of his hair against your throat. “Fuck, babe, I’m so goddamn close, where—?”

You doubled down on your efforts despite your shaky thighs, despite how sensitive you were. You rocked over him, pace quickening, wanting nothing more than to make Steve fall apart. You heard him gasp, lips parting against your neck, heavy breaths falling over your skin. You held him to you, let him bury himself there, helped him hide until he could piece himself back together again. 

“Inside,” you told him and your voice didn’t sound like yours anymore. You sounded wrecked, wild, desperate. It’s not something you and Steve did often, in fact, you’d only done it once before and you’d both been too tipsy to really remember it. But you were on the pill and Steve trusted you as much as you trusted him. “Wanna feel it, Steve, please, inside—”

“Oh, fuck!” Steve gasped as he came, hips bucking up into you with a little less rhythm than before  and he abandoned his grip on your ass to wrap his arms around you again, pulling you in, crushing you to his chest. He held you, pumping you full, cock twitching as he cried out, the sound muffled against your cheek. He whispered your name, a prayer. “Fuck, fuck. Baby.”

You could feel how hard his heart was beating, your cheek pressed to his chest as the rain started back up, heavy drops on the car roof, more lines trailing down the steamed up windows. You could hear Steve’s soft pants in between, his breath huffing over your hairline. You felt the boy skin his lips over the same spot, his nose pressed to your forehead. 

“You okay?” He whispered and you nodded, pulling back enough to look at him. 

He looked so much softer than before, the harsh lines gone, tension released. Steve ran a hand over your cheek and you leaned into it, kissing his palm. “I should be asking you that.” You brushed a gentle hand over his side, where you knew his bruise lay under his shirt. “Did I hurt you?”

“Quite the opposite,” Steve laughed, soft, quiet. The rain was growing louder, heavier. He was still inside you, heavy, warm, big. It was a comfort you didn’t want to read too much into. “Feel cured,” he joked. 

You huffed out a breath of a laugh, smiling, cheeks warm and you winced as you shifted up on your knees and Steve made a soft noise, cooing at you as he held your waist and helped you move. You bit your lip as you moved your stretched out underwear back into place, your body burned at the feel of Steve’s come slipping from between your folds, warm, wet. 

“I don’t even have anything to help clean you up,” Steve murmured apologetically, but he would’ve been lying if the idea of you going home full of him didn’t make his dick twitch again. 

“S’okay,” you told him and when you made to move off Steve’s lap, the boy gripped your thighs. 

You looked at him, brows raised, because this was normally the part of the night where you fell back into the passenger seat, satisfied and a little numb, laughing over a stupid joke Steve cracked before he drove you home and kissed you goodnight. “Stay,” he asked, whispering. You watched him swallow roughly, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Can you just—? Stay here for a bit, yeah?”

You softened, eyebrows scrunching as you took on the emotion on Steve’s face, the shyness there, the hope. You nodded, settling gently back onto Steve’s lap and you reached out, smoothing his hair away from his forehead, using the gesture as an excuse to let your fingers trail over his cheekbone. Steve turned, catching your knuckles with his lips, a fleeting kiss. 

Then he sucked in a breath and seemed to ready himself, his hands on your hips again, sneaking under the fabric of your sweater so he could rub circles into your skin with his thumbs. 

“So, it all started with this girl…”

[alisonfelixwrites]

the deal - part 1/3 (*) [harry styles au]

//

part two, part three.

summary: in which harry & claire are both single parents and their kids are best friends in school. atlas & finn are six years old and want to hang out all the time even if their parents don't get along .... at first.

word count: 23,973

content warning: smut!! (not too much for my standards lol). mentions of drug use, single parenthood with neglect from the other parent, mentions of physical/emotional abuse

this one is also already on my wp (to be found under 'muse')!! but she deserved her own moment on tumblr because this is one of my faves ❤️

//

“Oh my god.” The voice of a distressed woman behind the wheel sounded through the car.

Claire pressed her hand down on the honk once more, “Fucking move!” She roared before swerving to the side, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The many curse words easily tumbled from her dry lips as she made her way through a part of town she hadn’t often driven through.

Her old Toyota stood out like a sore thumb between all the fancy cars of the fancy people who resided here in these fancy homes. She was sure that if they took one look at her, her Burger King outfit would stand out too against the bright blue of her old car.

“Why the fuck do you drive a Tesla when you don’t even know how to use it!” Claire continued shouting, making hand gestures to the other drivers. An elderly woman driving a BMW gave her a disgusted look and Claire simply rolled her eyes, speeding off now that the intersection had finally cleared a bit.

Her heart was hammering in her throat and her hands were tightly clamped around the wheel. With her cap still on her head, Claire hadn’t had the time to get changed once she noticed the many missed calls on her phone. She simply jumped into her car after her shift and drove like a maniac to try and keep the damage to a minimum.

Waze finally showed the place she had to be at, and she came to a screeching halt before clumsily driving up a massive driveway which held a Land Rover and an old Volkswagen Beetle. Claire jumped out of the car and rushed up to the front door, completely out of breath.

Jamming her finger on the doorbell over and over again, she noticed a set of lights being turned on in the hallway before the door was yanked open.

“I’m so sorry!” She immediately blurted out, being met with a man who shot her an angry and very judging glare. Claire couldn’t blame him. She had fucked up.

He towered over her, blocking the doorway to his house as Claire shifted on her feet. He took a quick glance at her outfit, “I take it you’re Claire Carter?”

“Yes.” She breathed, “Shit, I-I’m so sorry I’m so late.” She palmed her forehead, fatigue taking over. Her entire body ached after standing on her feet for so many hours, faking polite smiles at the customers who did nothing but treat her like shit. She reeked of fries and couldn’t wait to take a shower.

The man in front of her wore joggers and a casual, white shirt. He had a clip holding his brown hair away and some scruff on his jaw. The judging look he sent her made Claire wish the ground could swallow her whole. He eventually exhaled, “You’re the one who forgot her child at school?” The snide tone of his voice made Claire press her lips together.

She lowered her eyes and swallowed, “Look, I’m just here to pick up Atlas.” Her voice was softer now, “Where is he?”

“Inside.” The man nudged his head inside his house, “Playing with my boy.”

Claire nodded, “Right. You’re Finn’s dad, aren’t you? Atlas talks about him a lot."

“Yeah.”

Silence took over and Claire glanced into the hallway behind him, “So… Can you tell him I’m here? Or can I come in?” A hint of impatience laced her voice. It was already late and Claire knew the never ending amount of chores that were waiting for her at home. Not to mention she had to get Atlas to bed on time to not disrupt their entire weekend schedule.

“He’s a good kid, you know?” The man spoke, snapping Claire out of her thoughts. She flicked her eyes up at him before frowning softly, “I’m aware. I’m raising him.”

“No, like… He’s a good kid. Teacher was raving about him. I went in to pick up Finn and they were the only two left. The teacher was about ready to leave and she couldn’t reach you. She was about to call the police.”

Claire’s cheeks turned an embarrassed shade of pink as she swallowed. She was being lectured by this man, who clearly judged her for not being a decent parent and forgetting to pick up her child after school. Claire’s stomach turned, knowing full well she already wasn’t making a good impression with the people of Atlas’ new school. She was hardly ever there to drop him off or pick him up and had a sitter do those things. She had never even met most of the teachers or the other parents, which was very frowned upon at that school.

“I’d like to take him home now.” Claire repeated, her voice a little hoarse, “It’s late.”

“Wonder why.” He scoffed before sighing and turning around, “Finn!” He yelled into the house. Claire felt her bottom lip wobbling, attempting to recompose herself before the sheer look of disgust of this man brought her to tears.

She soon heard little footsteps running over the wooden floors of the house, which honestly was more of a mansion. Even when Claire felt like shit, the sight of her little boy with his shaggy blonde hair, cheered her up immediately. With a wide grin on her face, she crouched down, opening up her arms for him to jump into her.

“Hi, baby!” Claire squeaked, spinning him around as Atlas clung to her. He had some sort of stain on his shirt but Claire didn’t mind, holding his body close to hers. “Hi, mummy! I missed you today.” Atlas bubbled in response. Claire hummed before putting him down, already feeling the massive ache in her back, “I know, I missed you too.”

Her eyes then flicked to the boy standing in the doorway too, his dad having a protective hand on the top of his back. “Hi.” Claire smiled, holding out her hand, “You must be Finn.”

“Yes.” He timidly spoke, offering her a small smile. He shook her hand with little enthusiasm, “Are you Atlas’ mum?”

“Yeah, ‘m Claire.” She smiled back before straightening up, “Well, thank you again. We should get going.”

“That your car?” Finn’s father nudged his head towards the blue Toyota and Claire exhaled, “Yes.”

“Hm.”

She refrained from rolling her eyes, “Have a good night.” She mumbled, not even waiting for his response. Atlas shouted a goodbye to Finn, waving excitedly before climbing into the passenger seat of the car. Claire checked her mirrors, avoiding the shocked eyes at all costs that her kid was getting in the front seat of the car.

Claire being the responsible parent she was couldn’t afford to fix the broken safety belts of the backseat, so Atlas drove up front with her. Backing out of the long driveway, she watched Finn and his father disappear back inside of the huge house.

“’M sorry, baby. Mum had to work late.” Claire yawned softly as they hit traffic again to drive home, “Did you have fun with your friend?”

“Yes, Finn’s really nice. A little quiet.” Atlas spoke. Claire hummed, “Are you hungry?”

“No! Harry made us dinner.”

“Harry.” Claire nodded, “That Finn’s dad?”

“Yes. He’s nice.”

Claire huffed and took a left, “Debatable.” She mumbled under her breath, not for Atlas to hear. The rest of the car ride was filled with Atlas’ babbles that Claire honestly loved. He spoke about nothing important most of the time but she loved hearing his voice and the way he saw the world, what observations he made. In her mind, she was already thinking about tomorrow though.

She had the Saturday-shift to cover too, so Atlas was spending the day with his father. The thought alone made Claire’s stomach clench but she tried to push it away. He deserved a shot at two parents and perhaps Evan really did deserve another chance to prove himself as a father.

The heavy door to the appartement hardly budged as Claire put her entire weight against it to open it up. The entire building shook as she did so, and she could tell the neighbours were listening to the news through the thin walls of this crappy building.

No one ever said it was this hard to be an uneducated, unsupported single mum.

With a heavy sigh, Claire ran her fingers through Atlas’ blonde whisps as he excitedly walked into their home. As always, both kicked off their shoes by the door and headed through the narrow hallway – passing both their bedrooms – towards the living area. Pizza boxes were on the counter from last night and Claire was glad Atlas had already eaten at his friend’s house because in all her haste, she even forgot to pick up groceries.

Ignoring the rumbling of her own stomach, she decided on a quick shower to feel fresh and clean again before snuggling up on the couch with Atlas to watch some of his favourite shows. Claire fought to keep her eyes open, refusing to go to sleep before her six year-old did.

Life was pathetic enough as it was.

She couldn’t shake the look of absolute judgement and despise she had received from Harry. Yes, she had forgotten to pick up her child after school. Yes, she had driven like a maniac and showed up at his door dressed in her Burger King outfit, hours late. Yes, they had been close on calling the cops on her.

But that didn’t make her a bad mother.

Claire sighed, gently stroking her fingers over Atlas’ forehead as he sucked on his thumb. It was a habit she tried to get him to shake, but simply didn’t have the energy to constantly point it out to him. He was too old to still be doing that, but part of Claire knew that even Atlas was traumatized from the shit he had witnessed as a baby and an infant.

It had taken Claire two years to get away from Evan and the past four years had been hell. And bliss at the same time.

She didn’t think she’d be a single mum at twenty-eight, making ends meet and having no savings to start something up. But Atlas was kind, fun and energetic. Now that he was a bit older, it was like having a mini-me. She could always talk to him and he was intelligent for his age, following along easily in the topics Claire spoke to him about. He was respectful albeit a little wild at certain times.

In his previous school they had called him a ‘wild child’ who ‘acted out because of the way his mother raised him’. Simply because he had learned the word ‘fuck’ from Claire and had yelled it out in class.

Once.

Claire thought she’d be done with the judgement, but after only a few weeks in his new school she could already sense it again. If not from the teachers, then definitely from the other parents. She was happy Atlas made friends so easily and that he was such an open, approachable kid, but she could really do without the critiques of the others.

It was on Monday that she saw Harry again.

After much whining from Atlas, Claire decided to drop him off at school herself for the first time. Along with all the other parents in line, she was crouched down in front of him to make sure everything was in his backpack for the day. She was parked with one wheel on the curb in front of a garage, so she really didn’t have much time.

Glancing around to check for police in the street, Claire hurried up and stuffed everything in his backpack, “There, you’ve got everything.”

“Thank you, mummy.” Atlas grinned. A dimple popped in his cheek, one of the things he inherited from Evan. Claire’s stomach turned at the memory. Another memory was the ache in her arm from the bruise she had there. A much more recent memory, from picking up Atlas on Saturday.

She wasn’t sure who had reacted worse to her being late for pick-up. Harry, who had stared her down and made her feel insignificant, or Evan, who had grabbed her and shoved her against the wall while yelling in her face.

“Good boy.” Claire proudly smiled, cupping his cheeks and pressing a kiss to his forehead, “You be good today, hm? Belle will be here to pick you up after school.”

Atlas’ face dropped, “Belle?” He pushed his bottom lip out into a pout, “Why not you?”

“I have to work, honey.” Claire sighed, “But I’ll be home for dinner.”

“But I don’t like Belle.” Atlas whined, “She stinks.”

Claire could feel a few pairs of eyes on her and rolled her lips inside of her mouth, “Well, that’s because she smokes so much. But I have to work, I’ve explained this to you.” Claire kept her voice down but Atlas whined louder, jutting out his lip, “But mummy!”

“Atlas.” Claire sternly whispered, shaking her head to him, “I’ll see you for dinner, end of discussion.”

He stared at the ground with a thick frown in his forehead, refusing to look at her, “Fuck.” He whispered.

Claire’s eyes widened, “Atlas! No,” She held up her finger, “you promised me you’d never say it again.” Her cheeks flamed up as the parents next to her had definitely heard that. Atlas shrugged while staring at the tips of his worn-out sneakers, “You say it all the time.”

“I’m an adult.” Claire sighed before scratching above her brow. Her hair was in a low bun and she wore jeans and a large hoodie, “Look, just go inside, hm? Class is about to begin, don’t want you to be late.”

Atlas didn’t look at her anymore, simply turned around and walked off. A lump formed in Claire’s throat as she watched him, and her hands fiddled with the sleeves of her jumper, “I love you! Have a good day!” She called after him, but he didn’t react. Exhaling a shaky breath, Claire tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hi!” She heard the voice from next to her, “Are you Atlas’ mum?”

Claire forced a smile, staring at the perfectly done make-up of one of the mums next to her, “Hi.” She nodded, “Yes, I’m Claire. Nice to mee you.”

“Hi, I’m Dolores.” The woman smiled back with her pearly white teeth, “One of my girls is in Atlas’ class. Betty.”

“Oh,” Claire raised her brows, “yeah, I think Atlas has mentioned her.”

Another mum joined the conversation, “So you’re Atlas’ mum, hm? We all thought it was that gothic sixteen year old.” She laughed, referring to Belle and her dark make-up and black clothes. Claire pressed her lips together, “No, that’s just his sitter. She lives in the building with us, so it’s easy.”

“Hm.” The third woman simply nodded, “Well, me and Dolores are off to have some coffee. Would you care to join?”

Claire forced a smile, “Thank you for the offer, but I have to get to work. It was nice to meet you.” She shot an awkward wave and turned around, stopping dead in her tracks when she near bumped into Harry. Claire was only eye level with his chest and shortly looked up, sending him a nod, “Hi.” She went to stride past him but Harry stopped her, turning around with her, “Nice outfit.”

She could hear the judgement in his voice and rolled her eyes before turning to face him, “Look, I could really do without all those comments of yours. I thanked you for looking after Atlas on Friday, there’s really no need for you to behave like that.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest while firmly keeping her feet on the ground. Harry wore a loose, grey cable knit jumper and some blue jeans that hung loosely around his legs. His hair was back in that little clip to keep it away.

The other mums were out of earshot and Harry frowned, taking a step closer to Claire, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” She stood her ground although her voice wavered, “I know you think you’re better than me. And you probably are. Sue me for working a lot so I can provide for my kid. Sometimes it happens that I lose track of time or that I cover a shift. ” She bit before turning around and stomping off.

Harry watched her, scoffing under his breath. His eyes lingered as the blonde walked up to her horribly parked car, near flipping of another driver who honked at her for crossing randomly. The car moved from how harshly she slammed the door shut before she drove off. He shook his head to himself. That reckless driving with a six year-old next to her was dangerous.

He turned back with his hands in his pockets, feeling the eyes of the other mums on him. Harry was basically the only father who made it to drop-off moments. It caused most of the other mums to shoot their shot somehow and flirt with him, which he always rolled his eyes at.

He shot Finn one last wave, watching as he hurried up to walk next to Atlas. Both immediately broke out into a grin and Harry sighed, part of him wishing Finn could’ve found another friend in class. Finn was a little quiet and timid, which is why it surprised Harry that he gravitated towards someone as loud and extraverted as Atlas.

Before Atlas transferred schools, Finn never really mentioned many of his classmates. He often played by himself and never asked to invite anyone over for a playdate. Ever since a few weeks, he talked about Atlas all the time.

So when Harry saw the little blonde boy, waiting for his mum who had promised to pick him up, he took it upon himself to take him home and care for him until they got a hold of one of his parents. He had overheard the teachers talking about it, and only one name was on the call sheet.

Claire Carter.

A blonde-haired hurricane who showed up at his door by the time it was dark. The muted brown of her Burger King-outfit didn’t fit her or compliment her in any way. Even from the distance, Harry could see the fire in her eyes, hidden by a lot of fatigue.

But he didn’t really care in that moment. She had put her child in danger, and Harry could never imagine forgetting to pick up Finn from school or not notifying the teacher. He simply couldn’t understand how that happened.

He wasn’t able to keep his snide remarks down, somehow feeling so frustrated with her that she was so casual about fucking forgetting her child.

But he had quickly developed a soft spot for Atlas. Partly because he was making feel Finn so at ease, and partly because he was just a funny, goofy and playful kid. Harry had overheard them as they played together, and he constantly asked Finn questions. Asking how he was doing, asking if he felt okay, asking if he had a good day at school. It was gentle and caring.

Until he had heard Atlas slipping in a curse word and Harry’s eyes had widened tremendously.

After meeting his mum, he wasn’t really all that surprised anymore.

***

“Booze?” Harry frowned as Claire handed him the bottle of scotch.

She sheepishly shrugged, “You don’t drink?”

“Uh – no, I do.” Harry breathed, eyeing the label and seeing some knock-off version of cheap scotch. He cleared his throat, “’S just a bit of a weird gift to thank someone for looking after your kid.”

“Well, I didn’t know what to get you. Don’t think you need another stick to push up your ass.” Claire muttered and Harry glared at her, “Anything else?”

They were back in the same position. Claire was on the grass in front of Harry’s house as he stood in the doorway after Finn and Atlas ran inside. It was a Saturday and even though Claire had felt excited about spending a day with Atlas, he had asked her for a playdate with Finn.

And so here she was, dropping him off at his best friend’s house.

“No.” She breathed, “Not really. You’re just going to text me if I can come pick him up?”

Harry nodded, “Sure. Any allergies or something I need to be aware of for lunch?”

“No, he’s all good. Not a big fan of spinach if you were considering that.” Claire informed him. Harry softly nodded, “Fine then, bye.” He closed the door and Claire huffed, shaking her head. She hoped for Atlas’ sake that Finn wasn’t as much of a bitch as his father.

But disaster struck the moment Claire got in her car and tried to start it, only for her car the make the most pathetic noise and shut down.

“No.” She groaned, “God, please, no.” She tried again, jamming her key in it only to receive no response. Claire sat in the driver’s seat for a good ten minutes, simply refusing to get out and knock on Harry’s door again to ask him for help. She refused. Stubbornly, she sat in the seat until she got too bored and

Finally pushing her pride aside, she got out of the car in the scorching sun. Her arms crossed in front of her, she sighed while ringing Harry’s door again. He opened up with that same frown, “Forgot something?”

“I never left.” Claire deadpanned, “My car’s dead. Won’t start. Can I come inside to call a mechanic? It’s boiling.”

“I can feel that. ‘S like an oven.” Harry glanced outside before opening up the door wider, “Fine, come in.”

“Thank you.” She breathed. Harry cringed at her sandy shoes as she strolled through his hallway and straight into the kitchen like she had been here a billion times before. “Where are the kids?” She questioned while sitting down on a barstool.

“Yeah, make yourself at home, why don’t you.” Harry sarcastically spoke before leaning against the counter, “Upstairs. Finn’s got a playroom.”

“A playroom.” Claire nodded while scrolling her phone while searching for a mechanic, “Fancy.”

“Had to do something with my ex’s empty art studio.”

The comment made Claire flick her eyes up. Harry was staring out the window with his arms crossed. The stubble was more prominent now than a week before and the sun coming through definitely accentuated his prominent jaw and the shape of his lips. Claire put her phone down as she leaned her arms on the countertop, “Want to talk about it?”

Harry huffed softly, “No. Did you find a mechanic yet?”

“Do you know anyone in this neighbourhood? That I can like… afford.” Claire muttered the last part and Harry pressed his lips together, “Yeah, I’ll call my car guy. Don’t have to worry about money.”

“Your car guy?”

“Mhm.” Harry was on his phone, a concentrated frown on his forehead. Claire tilted her head to the side, “That’s… I mean, how often do you need a car guy?”

“Just sometimes.” Harry shrugged, “The old beetle outside gives up every once in a while. I call him and he comes here, it’s easy.”

“Both cars are yours?” Claire asked in clarification, and Harry hummed, “Yes.”

“Wow.” She mumbled, nodding to herself, “Must be nice.”

Harry rolled his eyes at her remark and then called his car guy, sharing a few quick words with him before hanging up again, “He’ll be here soon.”

Claire nodded, “Don’t you have jumper cables?”

“No, my car guy does.”

“Right.” She breathed. They were left in silence for a bit as the coffee was running. Harry hadn’t asked her if she wanted any, but poured her a cup either way and Claire didn’t complain. The longer the silence lasted, the more comfortable it became as both scrolled on their phones for a bit, the occasional sigh coming from Harry’s mouth.

Giggles and small feet carried themselves through the hallway.

“Daddy!!” Finn bubbled as both him and Atlas ran into the kitchen. Harry’s brows raised at the sight of his son, “Bub, where’s your shirt?”

“Atlas and I want to swim!” He ignored the question and Harry chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “Now?”

Atlas excitedly jumped, “Swim!”

“Atlas.” Claire chuckled while shaking her head, “You don’t know how to swim.”

Harry flicked his eyes to hers, “He can’t swim?” And Claire shook her head, “No, he hasn’t been taught yet.”

“Hm.” Harry exhaled, “Uh – well, I have floaties. Finn, you should use them too.”

“But, daddy!” The boy whined, “I can swim!” He stomped his foot down and Harry huffed, “In a kiddie pool. Not in a pool this deep.”

Finn pouted and Claire fought her smile at how adorable he looked, “But, daddy…” He tried again, “you always come in the pool with me and swim with me and throw me around and then save me.” He explained. Claire’s lips curled up in a smile, “Oh, do you?” She flicked her eyes to Harry who scoffed slightly before crouching down to Finn’s level, “Buddy, I have to fix something with Atlas’ mum’s car, so I can’t come in the pool right now. Besides, I have some work to do in the office. I thought you guys would be nice and quiet for me today?”

“We can be quiet in the pool.” Atlas butted in and Harry shook his head, “It’s gonna be a no. I can’t supervise when you guys are in the pool and it’s too dangerous.”

“Mummy,” Atlas whispered, tugging on Claire’s sleeve. She turned to face him as Harry ruffled Finn’s hair, who couldn’t hide the disappointment for the life of him.

“Yes?” She smiled at Atlas, who nibbled his lip a little, “Why don’t we have a pool?”

Claire took a breath, “Because we live in an apartment.”

“Yeah.” Atlas lowered his eyes, “But I like being outside. Finn has a very big garden to play in.”

Claire’s heart clenched as she exhaled before pressing her lips together. Atlas looked at her with big, green eyes, expecting an answer she couldn’t give him. Claire couldn’t tell him she also really wanted a house with a garden and a pool and a dog, giving Atlas the room he craved to play and be wild. He had a lot of energy and no real way to get rid of that in their small, dingy apartment.

Harry saved her though, clearing his throat, “Atlas, you can borrow swimming trunks from Finn. You guys get in the pool for a while once I grab the floaties.” The cheers sounded loudly through the room even though Harry wasn’t finished yet, “Only for a little while!” He held his finger up, “I have to work!”

Before the final word had left his lips, Finn and Atlas had bolted out of the room and back up the stairs and Harry let out a sigh, checking his watch. Claire followed his gaze, noticing his bony fingers tapping on the countertop in thought. The veins wrapping around his arm led her eyes up to the tattoos on his skin.

“I can stay too.” She offered, taking a sip of her coffee.

Harry seemed snapped out of his thoughts, “Hm?”

Claire cleared her throat, “I can stay too. You said you need to get work done and I have a free day. I can stay by the pool with the boys. I don’t mind, if you don’t have the time for it.”

“I want to have the time for it.” Harry clarified and Claire nodded, “I know. But it’s fine if you don’t. You can’t have time for everything.”

Harry scratched his jaw in thought, “I don’t have like bathing suits here. Astrid took all her stuff.”

Astrid.

Claire shrugged, “I’m wearing black underwear. Decent enough, not like… a thong or anything.” She mumbled. Harry fought the flaming of his cheeks before huffing out a chuckle, “Or you could stay by the edge and just put your legs in.”

“Atlas doesn’t know how to swim. Floaties or not, I’m getting in the water with him.” Claire frowned.

Harry sighed and nodded, “Yeah. I mean – uh… If you don’t mind? I really have a project to finish today, I have to meet the deadline or I’m losing this client.”

“What is it that you do exactly?”

“I’m an architect.” Harry mumbled, clearly still lost in thought at Claire’s offer. He nibbled his lip as she nodded, digesting the information. It made sense. Harry worked from home and on his own schedule, which meant he was free to drop Finn off and pick him up from school all the time.

“And you didn’t have any other plans today? On your free day?”

Claire let out a breath, “I – uh… Seeing as Atlas asked for this playdate, I actually planned an actual date this afternoon.” She tilted her head to the side while squinting her eyes at her screen, “But judging by this guy’s texts… he’s about to cancel on me either way so, yeah.” She sighed and put her phone back down, forcing Harry a small smile.

He whistled teasingly, “A date, hm? Spicy.”

“Not all of us are a hundred years old.” She rolled her eyes and Harry huffed out a laugh, “How old do you think I am, Claire?” The playfulness in his tone was something Claire wasn’t used to from him. The Harry she had seen so far in their previous encounters, was uptight and moody. His dimple popped in his left cheek as he smirked slightly.

She faked a small smile back, “Considering your gigantic frown lines, I’d say nearing your forties.”

“Ouch.” Harry placed his hand on his chest, “You wound me. Thirty-four, actually, but thanks. I’ll make some changes to my skincare routine. Noted.”

Claire giggled and shook her head, “I was kidding.”

“Funny girl, aren’t you?”

Claire flicked her eyes up, sensing a shift in Harry’s tone. He had lose the tension in his shoulders, softly smirking at her now from the opposite side of the kitchen as he leaned against the countertop. She lowered her eyes again and Harry cleared his throat, “So, going on a date, hm? First date?”

“Yes.” Claire breathed, “First and last date, which is how it usually goes.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you know,” She shrugged, her fingers toying together, “I show up in a pretty dress and flirt and play them a little. It’s all fun and games in the beginning until the real conversations start and it comes up that I’m a mother, raising Atlas by myself.”

Harry slowly nodded and Claire smiled, “You know, they’re usually fine with me having a son. Like, that’s alright mostly. But once they realize I don’t have a week-week schedule with my ex and actually have Atlas near every day, that’s where they draw the line. Like they don’t want to share.” She shrugged, “So that’s where it ends. I’m lucky if I can get some decent sex out of it. Which doesn’t happen often.”

Harry sputtered out a laugh at her bluntness before shaking his head to himself, “Wow. Yeah, I see why it sticks to one date. I could never be with someone who doesn’t appreciate Finn or doesn’t want to spend time with him.”

“It’s a package deal.”

He nodded in agreement, “Sure is.”

Claire leaned her elbow on the countertop and stared at him, “How about you?”

“Me?” Harry chuckled, shaking his head, “Nah. Eternal bachelor.”

She frowned while smiling, “I don’t believe that for a second. I know I’ve only been there to drop off Atlas once, but I could see all those soccer moms making eyes at you.”

“They’re all married.” He rolled his eyes, “And not my type.”

“Rich and beautiful is not your type?” Claire chuckled and Harry shrugged, “Apparently not.”

Silence fell over them again until Harry took a breath, “I’m gonna head up to the office. Grab whatever you want from the fridge or anything. There’s sunscreen in the bathroom and obviously the pool is outside. I’ll go grab the floaties from Finn’s room.”

“Yeah, okay.” Claire nodded. She checked her phone again, just seeing the message come in of her date, cancelling on her and asking to reschedule. She puckered her lips, remembering how he was some hot shot at an up and coming lawyer firm. She didn’t exactly expect him to have time for her on a Saturday.

With Harry’s footsteps heading up the stairs, Claire slowly got up from her barstool and roamed the kitchen. She stared out the window, seeing the pale blue pool in the large garden. It looked inviting, she had to admit. Even if it was nearing the end of September, it was exceptionally warm.

The house felt silent with both boys and Harry upstairs, and Claire’s feet took her to the crispy white living room. Every piece of furniture here looked like it was made by designers and she was nearly scared to touch anything. There weren’t much toys here and then Claire remembered Finn having a playroom upstairs.

As her eyes darted over the pictures on the wall, they stayed put on the brunette in some of the frames. There were about two of her and a younger Finn. The other ones were of Harry and Finn, or a standalone Finn.

Claire figured it was Astrid, Harry’s ex. She was beautiful, obviously. Looking at Finn, he was a gorgeous little boy with obvious great genes.

Just a few minutes later, Claire was outside with both excited boys. Finn and Atlas were around the same size, with Atlas just being a tad taller. Both wore little swimming trunks with either ducks or boats on them and stood perfectly still as Claire put sunscreen on them.

She didn’t see Harry staring at them from the window above. His laptop was open and he was drawing, he really was. Or he tried to. But he stood against the windowsill up on the first floor, staring down the length of his garden. The water of the pool looked inviting and he could see Finn’s wide grin from a mile away.

Claire grinned too, her blonde hair pinned back now with one of Harry’s ballpoints holding it together. It was inventive, he had to give her that. Her hands smoothed over Finn’s back to put the product on him before she gently slid the floaties around the boy’s arms. They both patiently waited at the edge of the pool, excited to jump in.

Harry’s leg twitched a little when his eyes were on her. She kicked off her shoes, a pair of mom jeans on her legs that she popped. The dryness in his throat once she slid the pants down her legs, was something Harry didn’t anticipate. Black underwear was revealed. Simple cotton with just a small lace border.

Harry thanked his impeccable eyesight to see every detail of Claire from a distance. She was shaped beautifully, with curvy thighs and a dip in her waist which was revealed as she lifted the navy top over her head to reveal an equally black bra.

He saw hints of a tattoo on the back of her shoulder, but Claire moved too quickly for Harry to notice it. Urging the boys to get in the pool, she elegantly got in with them.

A small smile tugged on Harry’s lips as he watched the first few minutes of their playing. Atlas and Finn mostly splashed around, ruining Claire’s plans to keep her hair dry. She tossed the ballpen to the side, ducking underneath the water to get in all the way.

She played with Atlas a bit, and Finn too. He laughed loudly as Claire threw him around a little bit, playing gently with him. They did a bit of a race where she purposely let him win while Atlas splashed a little more, without his swimming experience.

It was hours later, when Claire was fresh out of the pool and drying on the sunbed – with both boys running around the garden and giggling – that she felt a towel being dropped on her stomach. Her eyes snapped open in surprise and she squinted, Harry blocking the sunlight a little, “Hi.” He chuckled.

“Oh, hi.” She smiled, sitting up a bit and grabbing the towel, “Thank you.”

“’S fine.” His eyes glanced around the garden, “Did they have fun?”

Claire wrapped the towel around her to dry off, “Yeah. I don’t understand how they’ve got so much energy left, even I need a nap. Two is too much.”

“I’ve honestly never seen Finn this loud.” Harry smiled as his son ran through the garden with Atlas chasing him, “They’re pretty good friends.”

“They are.” Claire smiled as she followed his gaze, “Infectuous, really.”

“They didn’t give you too hard of a time?”

“Not at all. Finn’s a sweet a boy.”

Harry smiled as he nodded, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his pants, “He is.”

“How about you? Finished your project?”

“Yep.” Harry stretched his arms now, yawning a little, “I need a nap too.” He joked.

Claire got up with a mischievous glint in her eyes, the towel around her form as she took a few steps closer to Harry. He involuntary took a few back, but she was still close enough that he could see the freckles on her nose and the remains of an old scar above her brow.

“What are you doing?” He spoke in a strained voice, taking a few steps back still to create some distance. He could feel himself breaking out into a sweat when Claire just continued to step closer to him. “Claire.” He pushed.

“You know what’s a great substitute for a nap?” She purred, daring to take another step closer to him. She could inhale his perfume and Harry held his breath when she batted her lashes. He swallowed thickly, “Hm?”

“A dip in the water.” She smiled, using a hand that she placed against his covered chest to give him a shove back. Harry’s eyes widened as he lost his balance, “Wh- Wait!” He yelped, reaching his arm out. Claire laughed, hardly caring that Harry managed to take a hold of her wrist and pull her in. Unlike him – who made a gigantic splash as he tumbled down – Claire managed to get in a dive and dip in elegantly.

The coolness of the water did wake Harry up immediately and he sputtered out as he reached the surface, shaking his hair out with his clothes completely soaked. Claire was laughing as she quickly took the towel to throw it on the grass and get it out of the water.

“Oh my god!” Harry laughed, splashing water at Claire, who giggled. Harry flicked his eyes to their two boys who seemed unaware, chuckling as he shook his head, “You dick.”

Claire gasped in fake shock, “Are you cursing?”

Harry rolled his eyes as he swam back over to the side, pushing himself out of the pool. Claire was mesmerized for a second, watching the way his shirt clung to him. The muscles in his back bulged as he pushed himself up, showing off every ridge.

“Shit.” Harry chuckled, opening up the buttons of his shirt, “I can’t believe you pushed me in the pool. What are you, six?”

Claire grinned and also got out of the water, feeling Harry’s eyes on her as she wrung out her hair, “No, twenty-eight.”

“You wouldn’t say.”

Claire stuck out her tongue and Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Brat.” He scoffed, “’M gonna grab towels.” He turned around to head into the house, his pants soaking wet and his shirt off. The light reflected off his muscular back and Claire near drooled. Harry handed her another fluffy towel and both sat down on the sunbed.

“So around what time are you going to offer me a drink?” Claire teased and Harry hummed, “I don’t drink around Finn.”

“Well, ‘m not gonna get blind drunk but I wouldn’t say no to some pink wine.”

“Yeah, not blind drunk, just…” He shrugged, “I don’t want to give the wrong example.”

Claire leaned back on her hands, letting herself dry in the heat of the burning sun, “Having a drink every once in a while isn’t setting the wrong example, Harry. You’re an adult.” She shrugged, “I mean, it’s your own decision obviously, but it’s impossible to be responsible all the time around your child.”

“Responsible…” Harry mused, “Like remembering to pick them up from school?”

“Dick.” Claire chuckled, nudging her shoulder into his playfully. Harry grinned, staring at the pool as the boys played still. Harry had changed out of his pants and put on some swimming trunks this time, in case Claire decided to shove him in the pool again. His hair was wet and dripping down his back, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“Thank you again for that. Work just got… in the way.”

Harry turned his head to the side to watch her, “Don’t have to thank me again, that’s not why I said it. Was just making a joke.”

“I know.”

“You work a lot, don’t you? At Burger King?”

Claire exhaled a breath, “It’s not the most glamorous job and it doesn’t pay that much. But yes, I work a lot. I take a lot of shifts and often work weekends or late nights.”

“Is Atlas by himself when you work?”

“No,” Claire breathed, “I’m not that terrible of a mum.” Her voice held a hint of bitterness and she pressed her lips together, “There’s a young girl in my building who babysits for him. She’s like… seventeen maybe and she dropped out of school. She’s always available. The other mums said they’d seen her around to pick him up sometimes.”

“Oh, yeah…” Harry nodded, “like dark make-up, black hair?”

“Mhm, that’s Belle.”

“Isn’t it like… counter-productive? You have to pay her and then work while having to do so…”

“I earn more than whatever I have to pay her.” Claire mumbled, “Like I said, she’s not that expensive. I keep more than I have to give her.”

Harry nodded, “Right.” There was silence for a moment, “Look, ‘m sorry about giving you a hard time last week. I didn’t mean to like… shame you or anything.”

“No, I get it. It’s everyone’s first impression of me, trust me.” She chuckled, “That judgement is exactly why I pulled him out of his previous school, though. He heard people talking that I was never there, that I was leaving him on his own, that I wasn’t fit to be a parent. It’s painful because I’m really doing this all for him.”

Harry nodded again, listening to her. Claire fiddled with her fingers, “Like what he said about the pool earlier, you heard, right?"

“Mhm. I did.”

“Well, I want that too. I want to give him everything, I want him to have a nice childhood and I want to spend time with him. But I don’t have an education so I can’t really go for high-paying jobs. Just have to take what I can get and hope for flexible hours to be there for him.”

“You’re doing a lot, Claire.” Harry sympathized, “Seriously, ‘m sorry. I-I judged way too quick.”

“That’s fine.” She shot him a sly smile, “Happens when you’re old.”

Harry smiled and shook his head to himself, “And hey… I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you drop him off here whenever you have to work late or want some time for yourself? Finn and Atlas can spend time together, he could even stay the night if you want. And you don’t have to pay me.”

“What?” Claire frowned.

“I’m serious.” He shrugged, “It’s nice for Finn to have a friend. They’re joined at the hip.” Harry glanced over his shoulder to see both boys giggling together, a smile tugging on his lips, “I think they’d like it. He could eat here or I could grab him after school, bring him here. You can just come pick him up whenever you’re finished.”

Claire tilted her head to the side with a frown, “But… Don’t you have to work? Or go places?”

“Not really, to be honest.” Harry admitted, “I’m home all the time. A lot has changed since my divorce and I don’t have much of a social life anymore, just put Finn first. Wanted him to grow up with at least one present parent after all the arguing he had to witness as a baby. And I work for myself, got flexible hours. I work when he’s at school or when he goes to bed at night.”

Claire stared at him, “I-I mean… If you’re sure.”

“Of course.” Harry smiled, “Dead sure. You can even go on your dates on Saturday nights, or something.” He teased softly and Claire bit her lip, “You’re right. I can. I should text that guy to reschedule."

He hummed, “You can.” He then turned to face her, “So we’ve got a deal?”

Claire nibbled her lip, “And… you’d want nothing out of it?”

“No.” Harry shook his head, “Just doing it for Finn. And Atlas is a nice kid, Claire. He’s a good influence to bring Finn out of his shell.”

She smiled softly, her bubbly boy being a good influence made her so proud. “Okay. Then I guess we have a deal.”

They stupidly shook hands before bursting out in giggles. Claire hummed, bumping her shoulder into his again, “You’re not that bad, you know?”

“I know.” Harry playfully responded, “Neither are you."

“You’re the first mum-friend I’ve ever made in my life.”

“Oh god.” Harry groaned, “Don’t call me your mum-friend.”

Claire threw her head back in a laugh and Harry leaned back a little bit too, his eyes finally catching the ink on the back of Claire’s shoulder now that her hair dried a bit. He could see now, that it was a tattoo for Atlas. Literally a tattoo of Atlas, who carried the world. It was simple, and even a little disturbed with some dark bruises around it.

Harry swallowed, but decided not to comment on it.

***

“Hi, Harry!” Atlas bubbled as he waved at Harry. He was leaning against his car, sunglasses up his nose as he waved back, “Hi, bud.”

“Atlas!” Claire panted as she came running from across the street – having done another horrible parking job with her car. Harry smiled as she ran up to Atlas, crouching down to catch him in a hug. Atlas ran straight into her arms with a giggle and Claire hugged him, stroking his back, “Hi, baby. How was your day?”

“Good!” He smiled widely. Claire pressed a kiss to his cheek as she smiled.

“Bye Atlas! See you soon!” Finn’s voice sounded as he ran up to Harry, and Claire straightened up as she shot him a wave, “Oh, hi. Didn’t see you.”

Yeah, hey.” He smiled back, “Been here a while, I like to be early, Finn doesn’t like to wait.”

“Are you sure it’s still okay for tonight?”

He nodded, “Yep, ‘s fine.” Harry ruffled Atlas’ hair, “Gonna come over for a movie night, bud?”

“Can we watch Toy Story?!” Atlas excitedly gasped and Harry groaned a little under his breath, recovering quickly as he rolled his lips inside of her mouth, “Mhm.”

Claire chuckled, “Are you sure?” She softly asked him and Harry nodded again, “Positive, really. It’ll be fun.”

Her hair was up in a clip again, whisps of hair flying around. She wore a jumper even if it was boiling, and Harry could tell she was still wearing the Burger King shirt underneath, some of the muted brown sticking out of the neckline of her jumper. Claire took Atlas’ hand and waved at Harry and Finn, “See you tonight!”

“Bye!” Harry waved back, and Finn did too. As Harry urged Finn into the backseat, Dolores walked up to him. With her fresh bob-cut and perfect make-up, she sent him a smile, “Hi, Harry.”

“Dolores.” He nodded. She eyed him up and down, “Did I overhear you talking to Claire for a moment there?”

He pressed his lips together and nodded, “Mhm.” There was no point in lying about it, all eyes had been on them just a minute before. His eyes flicked to the other side of the street where Claire slammed her car door to drive off, not putting on her blinkers before she sped off. He wanted to roll his eyes at her driving behaviour but also knew he was super extreme with his careful driving.

“You know…” Dolores lowered her voice and came a little closer as Harry closed Finn’s car door. He straightened up and Dolores shortly glanced around, “There has been some talk. You know, a new mum… people always talk.” She shrugged as if it was the most normal thing. Harry stiffly nodded, “Naturally.” He vividly remembered all the gossip when word got around about what happened between him and Astrid.

“And well,” Dolores tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “Natalie heard that Claire has a past in drug abuse.” She was near whispering now, “And that she was married to a dealer.”

Harry let out a soft sigh, “Right.” He hardly listened, if he was honest. He knew better. Word got around quickly here, but everything got changed and manipulated. He knew better than to believe everything he heard around this town.

Dolores cleared her throat, “And that she was using while being pregnant. That poor boy… I mean, it’s clear that he’s got ADHD, and that could be a result of her abusing drugs while pregnant.”

Harry refrained from rolling his eyes, “Dolores,” He sighed, “even if it’s true, who cares? It’s her life and it’s been six years since she was pregnant. Let’s not meddle.” He simply spoke, forcing her a small smile.

“I’m just warning you,” Dolores put her hand on Harry’s arm and he flicked his eyes down to the touch with a frown in his forehead. Dolores swallowed, “She’s around Finn, Harry. Think about the influence…”

Harry cleared his throat and pulled his arm away, walking around his car to get behind the wheel, “Bye, Dolores.”

She opened her mouth to say more, but Harry was already in his car with the door closed. He didn’t spare her another glance before he drove off.

A few hours later, someone rang his door. Claire was fiddling with the top button of her dress as she waited for Harry to open his door. Atlas was by her side, excited for his movie night here as she had rescheduled with her date for tonight.

She was sort of excited, it had been a while since she had gone out. Her work schedule didn’t allow her to and she wanted to spend most nights with Atlas. Knowing he wasn’t just in the apartment with Belle scrolling on her phone, but was spending time with his friends eased her guilt a little of leaving him alone.

The lock clicked as Harry appeared, flashing a grin at Atlas, “Hey!”

“Hi, Harry!” He grinned back before turning to Claire, “Bye, mummy!!” He hardly waited for her response before sprinting into the house he knew rather well by now. Claire chuckled, “Yeah, bye. Love you too.”

Harry leaned against the doorpost, shortly scanning her outfit. He was used to seeing Claire either in her Burger King outfit or in jeans and a shirt. Now, she wore a dress. And make-up. It was clear to him she was making an effort. The slippers on her feet made his brows raise though, “Is he super short or something?” He nudged his head towards her feet.

Claire followed his eyes, “Oh, no, I don’t think so. I just can’t drive in heels so I’ll switch my shoes when I arrive.” She explained, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder, “By the way, if I’m done before midnight, I’m coming back over to pick him up.”

“In the middle of the night?” Harry frowned.

“Yeah, we sort of have our morning routing, Atlas and I. So I prefer picking him up and letting him sleep the rest of the night in his own bed. What time do you usually go to bed?”

Harry scratched his chin, “Yeah, around midnight.”

“Okay, but I’ll text you. Maybe he sucks and I’ll be back in an hour.”

His lips curled up in an amused smirk, “What’re dealbreakers to you, Claire?”

“I’d love to go over the list with you,” She grabbed a lipstick from her purse and blindly put it on, painting them a soft cherry red before rubbing them together, “but I’m going to be late if we get into that.”

Harry’s eyes zeroed in on Claire’s lips and he huffed out a chuckle, “Fine. Well, have fun. Be safe. Let me know when you’d come pick up Atlas.”

“Will do! Thank you.” Claire spun on her heel and headed back to her car, driving off the driveway to head to her date. Harry watched, feeling only slightly wary of her going by car instead of being picked up. He wondered if she’d drink during dinner and then drive, picking up Atlas to drive with him.

Dolores’ words ran through his head over and over again before he shook his head to himself and headed inside.

He checked his phone a few times, but Claire was actually having an okay time on her date. The guy who worked at the lawyer firm was charming and showed up in a suit. A bit stiff, Claire thought. And she was definitely underdressed. Her black dress looked classy but was cheap as fuck, and the buttons around her chest seemed near ready to pop.

His eyes were drawn to her tits most of the time as he drank the one scotch after the other. Their conversations started pleasantly and Claire got it out of the way first, immediately notifying him of the fact she had a six year-old son. He hadn’t responded much to it, just hummed and said it was cool.

As the evening progressed, Claire got a bit of an ick though. He seemed to talk mostly about herself and when he ended up not asking one single question about Atlas, Claire decided for herself that this was not it. He was near drunk once they finished their dinner and headed outside. He sloppily tried to kiss her and she turned him down, even having to stifle her laugh when he casually suggested they hook up just once.

He also called her a prude when she refused. Rolling her eyes, Claire got in her car. Before driving off, she quickly texted Harry.

Message to: Harry (Finn’s dad)

Coming back from the restaurant now, I’ll be there in twenty.

It was nowhere near midnight, but just past ten thirty in the evening. Claire had only been on her date a good few hours but it had felt like forever. With the window down, she drove up to Harry’s house again after another disappointing night. It had been the one shitty date after the other in the past few months.

Most lights in the house seemed off as Claire pulled up, getting out in her slippers and softly knocking on the door as to not alert the sleeping children. She heard footsteps, and soon Harry opened up. He looked a little sleepy and Claire suspected he had dozed off on the couch before she texted him that she was coming back.

“Hi.” She bit her lip, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

He stifled a yawn, “You didn’t. Put the boys to bed not too long ago and I was reading a little bit.” He opened the door wider for her, “Come in. How was the date?”

“Horrible.” Claire huffed, following him into the kitchen. Harry hummed, “Want some coffee? Or water? There’s also some dinner leftover if you want.”

“It actually smells so good in here.” Claire hummed, “If you’ve got any left, I’d like to.”

“Sure, I’ll heat some up. Tell me about the guy.”

Claire pushed herself up to sit on the countertop, “Well, he was just…” She shrugged, “Boring. And arrogant. He only talked about himself, was just overall rude and he drank so much, god… I hope he didn’t yet have to drive.”

Harry smiled softly at her words as he put a plate in the microwave. “How responsible of you.” He teased, repeating the words from last week that she had mocked him with. Claire smiled and rolled her eyes, “Hey, I have morals.”

“Hm.” Harry hummed, remembering Dolores’ words again. He turned around, “Here you go. Atlas really liked it.”

“Holy shit. Did you make this yourself?”

“Think I’ve got some private chef here, Claire?”

She shrugged, “Honestly, yes.” Her fork poked into a piece of chicken as she stuffed it in her mouth.

“Nah, I’m quite an okay cook. I like cooking actually.” Harry went to sit on the opposite countertop, his legs dangling over the edge as they were in the dimly lit kitchen, “Go on now, tell me five positive things about the date.”

“Five?” Claire’s eyes widened, “Uh…” She chewed for a bit, “well, one… he paid. So that was nice.” She narrowed her eyes in thought and Lennon chuckled softly, “Only one?”

“No, no, wait, let me think.” Claire shook her head, “Oh, well, he didn’t shame me when I wanted to have dessert. And when I said I had a kid, he said it was cool.”

“Cool?” Harry frowned, “That’s supposed to be a positive thing? The bar is very low.”

“It’s on the floor, let’s be honest.”

“So I assume it’s safe to say there won’t be a second date.”

Claire scrunched her nose, “Definitely not. He tried to kiss me and suggested sex.”

Harry’s brows raised, “Seriously? Bold.”

“You’d be surprised, dating isn’t the same as it was ten years ago.”

He hummed, “Apparently. Thank god I don’t have to go through that.” He shook his head to himself. He knew it could be brutal out there. Hell, Astrid had made it brutal for him. The thought of her left his stomach in clenches and he quickly pushed it all away.

“Harry, this is really good. Wow.” Claire near moaned as she ate more food and Harry smiled, “Thanks.” He felt proud at her compliment and shyly glanced down. Claire swallowed her bite, “So what did you three do tonight?”

“Watched Toy Story. Twice.”

Claire sputtered out a giggle, “No way.”

“Atlas is quite persuasive.” Harry chuckled, “But I was reading a little throughout. They were nice and quiet though, had some popcorn. They wanted to swim but I said no.”

“Stern.” Claire nodded and Harry shrugged, “Some might say, yes.”

Claire crossed her legs over one another and leaned back, “So… I’m curious. If you never go on a date, how long has it been since you’ve had sex?”

Harry chuckled to himself while shaking his head, “Nope. None of your business.”

Claire shrugged, “Fair enough.”

They sat in silence for a bit until Claire decided to head home. Harry guided her up the stairs to show the spare room where Atlas was sleeping. He was dazed until he laid eyes on his mum, a wide grin spreading over his face. Claire carried him downstairs and gently put him in the car before thanking Harry again and driving off.

***

“Thank you so much for watching him.” Claire breathed as she was at the door in her Burger King outfit. She looked exhausted, Harry noticed. Her hair was a little messy and she had bags under her eyes. It was a Thursday and almost a week after she had dropped Atlas off here to go on her date.

He hadn’t seen much of her throughout the week, or just shortly to pick up Atlas after school. Today, she had to pick up another shift so Harry took Atlas home after school to hang out with Finn.

“’S no problem.” Harry shrugged, “I’ve told you, Atlas is a nice kid to have around. He’s polite.”

“Yeah.” Claire tiredly smiled, “Can you go grab him?”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, “Mhm. Or – uh… we were just about to have dinner. You can join if you want.”

“That’s really nice,” Claire sighed, “but you’re already doing way too much for us. And I desperately need to shower.”

“I have showers.” He shrugged.

“Showers? Multiple?”

He chuckled, “Yes. C’mon,” he urged her, nodding his head inside the house, “it’ll be nice for the boys.”

It’s what he went with. That it was nice for the boys. Really trying to ignore the fact that it’d be nice for him too. Claire was easy to talk to and not as uptight or fake like all the other mums in the school. She was blunt and unapologetic, but very straightforward and without bullshit. He appreciated that now, whereas he didn’t at first.

She was trying her best, he could see that.

Claire eventually caved, nodding her head. She wore that horrific Burger King fit and Harry showed her where everything was in the bathroom, handing her a pair of joggers and a shirt of his.

The four of them sat around the dinner table later, with Claire only being slightly uncomfortable at how underdressed and casual she was. The clothes Harry handed her felt nice and soft, but she wasn’t used to having dinner in pyjamas with wet hair laying on her back and with anyone else besides Atlas.

“I have a question,” Harry popped, narrowing his eyes at Claire, “Do you ever eat burgers?”

She chuckled, shaking her head, “Absolutely not. Can’t stand burgers anymore. Besides, I see how they’re made and let me tell you… it’s a big no. I’m in the smell of it all day and I just…” She shuddered, “Nope.”

They fell silent again with just Finn and Atlas whispering something to one another until Finn nodded and cleared his throat, “Claire?” He spoke in a small, soft voice. Claire swallowed her bite and turned, “Yes?”

Finn looked a little nervous, shifting in his chair as he put his fork down and a slight flush rose over his cheeks, “Atlas said I could come to your house.”

Claire frowned slightly, shortly flicking her eyes to Atlas before clearing her throat, “I’m… what?”

“We always come here. I want to show Finn where we live.” Atlas piped up. Claire felt her cheeks heating up a little bit in embarrassment as she stared at her plate. Harry hummed, “That could be fun. Maybe we could all have dinner at your place?”

Claire licked her lip, refusing to look him in the eye, “That’s…well, that’s not possible. I-I don’t have a table that can fit four people.” She mumbled softly. Her shoulders slumped a little bit and Harry paused mid-chew to watch her as she kept her eyes on the food in her plate.

“Atlas, baby, we don’t really have the room for you and Finn to play the way you can here, right?” She softly spoke to her son.

Atlas pouted and Claire forced him a small smile, “Maybe some other time, yeah?”

“But I want to show him where we live.” Atlas murmured in a trembling voice, nearly on the verge of tears. Claire turned to him and kept her voice soft, “I know. But you know how mummy always says we won’t live there for too long? Because it’s so small and loud and dark?” She near whispered to Atlas, who nodded and sniffled once, “Well, maybe we should wait until we live somewhere nicer.”

“Are you poor?” Finn’s voice sounded curious and Claire’s eyes widened.

“Finn!” Harry scolded in shock, “You can’t ask people that!”

Finn looked completely horrified at the sudden volume his father used to talk to him. He stared at Harry with large, green eyes and even his lip was trembling, “B-But Atlas comes to school with dirty clothes.” He near whispered, sounding nervous. Claire’s stomach dropped and Finn sniffled again, “And we share my lunch because he’s still hungry after his.”

“Stop!” Harry snapped, his fist coming down on the table. Finn jumped up with a gasp in surprise and then burst into tears, scrambling from the table to run off. Claire held her breath as she stared at Harry, his fist clenched as he exhaled a sharp breath, “Shit.” He grumbled under his breath.

Claire swallowed and turned to Atlas, “Do you want to go check up on Finn, baby? Tell him his daddy’s not mad at him and neither am I? That we’re all okay?”

Atlas also seemed surprised with Harry’s outburst and timidly nodded before leaving the table to find Finn in the house. The moment he was out of sight, tears spilled from Claire’s eyes. She turned her head away from Harry, hiding it as she hastily wiped underneath her eyes. Her fingers trembled, repeating in her head what Finn had said.

That Atlas showed up with dirty clothes to school and not enough lunch, to the point he was still hungry and ate from the other kid’s lunchboxes.

“Claire.” Harry exhaled and she ignored him, her brain spinning. She was trying so hard. And all this time, she thought she had been doing good. That Atlas was at least happy even if they didn’t have all that much. But people talked, and soon enough the same thing would happen like it had done in his three previous schools. Word would get around, parents would tell their kids not to hang out with him and he’d be bullied.

Harry scooted his chair closer to hers, “Claire,” He repeated, “look at me.”

She pressed her lips together and flicked her eyes up. Harry noticed the wetness in her waterline, the red rimming around her lids. She was exhausted and sad, and it was written all over her face. He wasn’t sure what to do, so gently patted her knee, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” She shook her head, “it’s not his fault. I just – uh… I didn’t know.” She simply shrugged, staring down again, “We’re always in such a hurry in the mornings a-and I just grab whatever clothes of his I can find. And sometimes I don’t have time to do laundry in the weekends. And I swear, he fucking grows all the time, it’s like I have to buy new shirts every other week.” She tiredly scratched her forehead.

Harry listened to her soft rambling and Claire shook her head, “He’s never complained.” Her voice was a little raspy, “about being hungry, or not having enough food. He’s never mentioned it to me.”

“I’m sure Finn was exaggerating.” Harry murmured back, holding his hand on her knee now to give a gentle squeeze, “It maybe happened once. He’s an energized kid who eats a lot, I’ve noticed it here too. I’m sure that if he truly was hungry after lunch every single day, he would’ve told you. You guys are close, right?”

“Yeah.” Claire nodded, “He usually tells me everything.”

“See? I’m sure it’s not that bad. And so what he has a stain on his shirt? He’s a wild kid, always playing and running around… he’s bound to fuck up his clothes.”

Claire listened to him and really tried to hear him, but fresh tears welled in her eyes, “I’m really trying, Harry.” Her tone was shaky and he cooed, “I know. Fuck, I know. I can see it first-hand.”

“Shit.” Claire murmured as she buried her face in her hands and her shoulders trembled in quiet sobs. Harry squeezed her knee and then moved his hand up to her shoulder, “Hey, c’mere.” He urged her to stand up and Claire did so, letting herself be pulled into his chest for a hug. Her forehead was pressed to his clavicle as she sobbed into him, Harry’s arms rubbing up her back to comfort her and shush her softly.

“You’re doing incredible, Claire. And Atlas loves you so much.” He held her body to his, feeling as she weakly cried, both in exhaustion and in feeling powerless. It was a few minutes later that Harry swallowed, “And if you ever need help with money or anything…” He knew the moment he said it, that she’d refuse.

Claire sniffled and shook her head while being pressed to him, “We’ll be fine.”

“O-Or maybe your parents or something?”

“They cut me off. I haven’t been in contact with them since they knew I was pregnant.” Her voice was soft and Harry pressed his lips together, giving her another squeeze, “And doesn’t your ex need to pay? For Atlas?”

Claire sighed out into his neck, “You’d think so. The lawyers are working on it because he refuses to pay. But those things take so long, I’m not even hopeful anymore I’ll ever see a dime.”

It made Harry hate him even more. He had heard little bits about Evan, Atlas’ dad, from Finn. Not much, nothing detailed, just that Atlas didn’t see him that much and that he lived in the area. Any piece of information that Harry found out, made his blood boil. He couldn’t understand how he wouldn’t make an effort to hang out with Atlas, who was such a fun little boy to be around. Harry found there was nothing more satisfying than watching his son grow up and he couldn’t imagine missing it for the life of him.

“Well, you can always ask me. I won’t question it.” Harry concluded and Claire sniffled, “Thank you.”

They stood embraced for another good few minutes until Claire untangled herself, “I’m fine.” She took a breath, through most of her crying as she shot Harry an unconvincing smile, “I’ll be fine.”

“I know.” He nodded.

***

Message from: Claire

He’s wearing boat shoes. I don’t know what to do.

Harry chuckled at the screen of his phone as Finn had his head laying in his lap. Atlas was curled up in the couch too, eyes glued to the screen as they were having another Friday movie night. And Claire was out on a date.

It was nearing November now, and their little deal had been going on for a few months. Claire didn’t go out every weekend, but at least every other weekend. And Harry took Atlas here for the night to hang out with Finn so she could go on her date.

It was safe to say that it usually wasn’t that big of a success. Claire would text him underneath the table about all the horrible things they’d say or do and then come here to pick up Atlas. It resulted in at least an hour of gossiping and laughing before she eventually left and he’d watch her drive off in the darkness of the night.

Message to: Claire.

What colour are they?

His phone soon buzzed with a response.

Message from: Claire.

Who cares!! We’re in the city, not on a fucking boat!

Harry laughed again, shaking his head to himself as he stroked his fingers through Finn’s hair. He had a book next to him but found himself almost more interested in the movie playing. Tangled. It wasn’t half bad, to be honest.

Harry hardly noticed it as Atlas crawled closer to him until bumping his head into Harry’s bicep. He glanced to his side to see the blonde-haired little boy with half-tired eyes, cuddled into a blanket.

Harry hesitated for a moment before opening his arm and Atlas didn’t wait a second, simply nuzzled into Harry’s side with a content sigh. Harry’s heart felt full, with Atlas cuddled into him on one side and Finn resting on his lap. He gently stroked his fingers over Atlas’ head and the boy melted into him even more. There was trust here, after weeks and weeks of spending time together. Atlas was incredible, Harry had come to find out. He was clever and witty, making Finn laugh louder than Harry had ever heard.

Atlas was definitely more on the mischievous side where Finn was rather timid and quiet, but they compensated the other very well. And had grown to be very close friends.

Harry’s phone buzzed softly.

Message from: Claire.

Okay, I’m out of here. He just asked how much I make a month and if I can get him free burgers.

Harry snorted softly and typed back.

Message to: Claire.

Yeah, sounds like your cue to leave. You can catch the final bit of the movie if you’re lucky.

The movie progressed and before Harry truly and well realized it, the three of them were dozed off on the couch. Only when he heard the soft footsteps in the house – after he had showed Claire where he kept the spare key – did his eyes blink open.

Claire watched him with an amused smile, eyes darting over Atlas and Finn who were both asleep on parts of his body.

“This is cute.” She whispered. Harry yawned softly, “Sorry, fell asleep.”

“I can see that.” She sat down on the couch next to Atlas and stroked his back, “Baby?”

Atlas nuzzled further into Harry and Claire shook her head with a smile, “He’s taking the moment to his advantage.”

“He can’t cuddle you like that?”

“No,” Claire exhaled, “hurts my boobs.”

Harry chuckled, “Right. So I take it the date wasn’t a success?”

“A big fat no.” Claire sighed, “God, where am I supposed to meet a decent guy these days. I swear, every app I have downloaded has only lead me to horrible evenings like this. Maybe I should just stay single forever.”

“Yeah, come over to the dark side. It’s fun here.” Harry joked and Claire leaned back in the couch. She wore a sundress with sleeves tonight, pushing it a little in these rather cold temperatures. But Harry had yet to see her in pants whenever she went on a date, it was always a dress.

“So boat shoes…” Harry mused and Claire groaned, “I know.”

“Well, at least it wasn’t flip-flops. Like that guy you went out with a few weeks back.”

“Am I supposed to see the silver lining here?”

Harry smiled and it was quiet for a moment, “You want a drink? Or some food?”

Claire yawned, “No, thanks. I think we’re just going to go home.”

“Really?” His voice jumped a little, “I mean,” Harry shrugged while clearing his throat, “you could stay a bit. Or sleep in the guest room with Atlas. He’s asleep anyway.”

“Harry,” Claire laughed, “I know we’re friends but we’re a bit too old for sleepovers, no?”

Friends.

Well, that hurt.

Harry didn’t protest when Claire gently woke Atlas up, who immediately cuddled into her instead. She kissed his forehead, “Wanna go home?”

“Mhm.” He sleepily responded. Claire picked him up, wincing a bit at the ache in her back. Atlas weighed a bit too much to still be carried by her, but he was too sleepy. Harry gently nudged Finn off, who didn’t wake and rested on a pillow instead, before he let Claire and Atlas out.

“Bye.” He waved in a whisper and Claire waved back once she put Atlas in the passenger seat, “Bye!”

Harry groaned to himself once Claire was out of sight. Friends. Friends. God damn it. He knew it. He had let it go on for too long and now he was friendzoned. He was literally her mum-friend, the one she gossiped to about other guys. Holy fuck.

Harry ran his palms over his face and sighed out, picking up Finn from the couch to carry him to bed and then go to sleep himself.

With the colder temperatures approaching, the next few weeks consisted of thicker clothes and spending less time outside. It got a bit harder for Harry to entertain the boys as they couldn’t go in the pool or play outside too much. It was basically waiting for snow now.

December just rolled in and Harry was sitting in his car, waiting for Finn to be done with school and to take him home. He used to always wait outside his car but it was too cold now, so he waited inside. His eyes scanned the street in search of Claire’s old Toyota. They had seen each other on Friday after she came back from another date, dressed in heels, stockings and a skirt. It was a cute look on her, accentuating her figure.

She said it wasn’t horrible this time but there wasn’t really a connection there, so it would stick to the one date. Harry hummed at that, and he couldn’t really say he minded all that much. He found himself looking forward to her texts, or the moments she’d come home after another disappointment of a date, spilling to him. Even if he was in the friend zone, it still cheered him up to see her.

Dare he say, it was the highlight of his week right now.

So he scanned the streets, not seeing her car. Not when the bell rang and the children were let out. Harry exited his car, a wide grin on his face as Finn ran over to him excitedly.

“Hi, m’love.” Harry crouched down to take Finn into a hug, spotting a blonde head of hair in the corner of his eye. He patted Finn on the shoulder, “Do we need to take Atlas home today?”

Finn shook his head, “No, he said someone’s picking him up.”

Harry frowned slightly, scanning the line of parents until he spotted Atlas, walking over to a girl with black hair and a cigarette between her fingers. She hardly paid him attention and his head was a little low. Soon enough, they made way to the bus station and disappeared from sight.

Harry refrained from texting Claire that night. It could be crossing a line, asking if she was okay. They had never really done that before and usually texted in a very casual way or to discuss picking up Atlas.

He didn’t see her the remainder of the week and it was nearing Christmas break now. Although Harry vowed to never pull his kid into this, he couldn’t help himself but question Finn on Friday.

“So… Are you sad that Atlas hasn’t been here all week?” He asked as they were having dinner, just the two of them.

Finn shrugged. He wasn’t a kid to speak out of line, which is why the poor-comment he made about Claire shocked Harry so much. He had raised Finn to be very polite and respectful. He had taught him that whenever a friend told him a secret, he were to keep it to build an keep the trust. It’s why he felt like guilty now, prying.

“He said it’s busy at home.” Finn answered and Harry flicked his eyes to him, “Busy?”

“Mhm.” Finn nodded, “With his mummy. He says she’s not feeling too well so he stays with her.”

Harry slowly nodded, “That’s nice of him.”

“It is.” Finn agreed.

Silence fell over the dinner table and Harry cringed at himself, unable to let the topic go, “Did Finn mention why Claire’s feeling a little poorly?”

Finn softly shrugged as he poked his food, “He says her face hurts.”

Harry near dropped his fork, stomach twisting in discomfort as he heard the words coming from Finn’s mouth. He softly cleared his throat, “Her face hurts?”

Finn was more interested in his food, simply nodding as he continued eating and Harry finally dropped it. He had a pretty clear idea as to why Claire’s face would hurt. He tightly gripped his fork, staring at his phone on the table in contemplation whether or not to text her. If it was crossing a line.

They had known each other for months now but never really dipped into that part of their friendship – as Claire would call it. Their talks were mostly playful or consisting of their children. They didn’t actually know much about one another on a personal level, they never had conversations like that and Harry wasn’t sure if this was pushing it or not.

So he left it at that. And a few days later, she reached out to him. Claire texted him, saying a guy asked her out on a date on Friday, asking him if it was okay if Atlas stayed the evening and if Harry had the time.

He responded faster than ever, immediately agreeing. Even though the idea that she was going on a date gnawed at him and he was searching high and low for the courage to ask her out himself – it still made his chest flutter that he was going to see her and talk to her.

The gnawing feel overpowered though, especially when he opened his door and she was there in a silk mini dress with tights and a dark purple loose cardigan over her shoulders to keep her warm. The cold was biting and even to drop Atlas off, Harry shortly invited her in.

Only when she was in the lights of the kitchen, could he take a decent look at her.

“Holy shit, what the hell happened to your face?” Was the first thing flying out of his mouth. Luckily for Harry, both Finn and Atlas were out of earshot. Claire exhaled and tilted her head to the side, “Is it really that obvious? I thought I covered it.”

She looked at him with big, round eyes. Her blonde hair was in soft waves laying over her back and all he could really see was the bruise on her cheekbone. He could tell it had faded and had gone towards a muted purple colour with hints of green. He could also see the layer of make-up she had put on over that.

“It’s… I mean, I can tell, yeah. It looks like a shadow.” He explained. Claire sighed, “Great. That guy’s gonna think I’m some crazy woman.”

“What happened?” Harry asked again. Claire took a moment and forced him a smile as she tried to busy herself with the strap of her bag, “Just me being clumsy.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, “I don’t believe that for a second. Why did you have Belle pick up Atlas every single day this week?”

“Because I was working and couldn’t do it.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged, “So? You could’ve asked me. Been doing it for the past few months with pleasure, so why relay on Belle again?”

“She asked, said she could use the money.” Claire shrugged and Harry huffed, “That doesn’t sound like you. Seems unlikely.”

“Yeah, I’m just that much of a bitch, aren’t I?” She responded bitterly, shaking her head to herself, “I don’t know what the big deal is. You got a week free of me and Atlas.”

“Didn’t ask for a week free of either you or Atlas. Neither did Finn.” It sounded like a dig, and Claire flicked her eyes up in shock of his words. They sounded venomous and angry, as if Finn had been unhappy this week without Atlas here in the evenings, and it was Claire’s fault. Harry continued, “Besides, I think the real reason wasn’t you being a nice person to Belle. I think the real reason was that you didn’t want me or Finn to see you with your face beaten up, which is why you hid all week.”

His voice softened and Claire’s stare hardened too. She inhaled a shaky breath, trying to recompose herself even if her heart was hammering violently and she could feel the lump in her throat.

“I’m going to give you a piece of advice, Harry.” She murmured, “If a person shows up with bruises and you have a feeling they’re not telling you the truth, there’s a reason for that. Don’t fucking pry it out of me like that, and why on earth do you even think you have the right or the audacity to do so? I don’t owe you any sort of explanation.”

He opened his mouth but she cut him off, “No, I don’t want to fucking hear it. You don’t get a free pass into my personal life just because my son likes you and we’re acquainted.”

It had gone from friends to acquaintances now. Harry felt the jab to his chest, knowing he had fucked up tremendously. Claire was breathing heavily as she sniffled once, “Now, I’m going to go on a date and attempt to enjoy it. I’ll see you later.” She strode past him and didn’t wait for Harry to let her out. The door slammed harshly until the pictures of Astrid and Finn on the walls rattled and Harry was left in silence.

He sat brooding that night. Checking his phone constantly for updates. Claire’s dates had never been this quiet. Usually she at least texted him when she arrived to let him know what the guy was wearing. There’d be texts throughout if her date said something disgusting or stupid, and at the end of the night to update him on if they had split the check or not.

It had been hours and there hadn’t been anything. With each buzz, he hastily grabbed his phone only to find it was either his mum or some notification of an e-mail he didn’t care for. His leg bobbed impatiently as he sat through another movie night with Finn and Atlas. And there was nothing that could take his mind off of things.

So when he had put the boys to bed and sat down on the couch again to check his phone, it was still empty. He drew up a message to send her but deleted it again, realizing his apologies would never come across through text while she was out with another man. He had to tell her in person, so he forced himself to stay awake.

Claire never came.

She never texted him, she simply never showed up. Harry stayed up for a few hours until midnight passed and then one in the morning, and then two in the morning. His lids felt droopy before he dragged himself to bed with the harsh realization that Claire was spending the night with her date.

He knew. She’d never go home to sleep by herself and leave Atlas here. She always picked him up. The only reason she wouldn’t pick him up, is if she was sleeping with him at his house or in a hotel room.

She was getting fucked, having sex, and Harry knew it.

The dates in the past hadn’t bothered him that much because they always ended up being assholes or losers and Claire was never truly interested in any of them. She never minded that there wasn’t a second date and simply kept swiping on Tinder until finding someone else.

In all the months they had been doing this, she had never spent the night with someone. It made Harry’s chest sink so deep that it hurt. It physically hurt, knowing she was with someone else. Who got to kiss her, touch her, smell her and taste her. Hear her, feel her, be inside of her.

His fists balled as he suddenly couldn’t catch sleep after that realization. He was so fucking jealous.

Harry hardly slept, but when his phone buzzed at around eight in the morning, he was wide awake.

Message from: Claire.

I’ll be there in like ten minutes.

He jolted up in bed and hastily went into the bathroom to freshen up and brush his teeth. Both boys were still asleep but Harry didn’t know for how long. He rushed down the stairs to be there for when she arrived, and like clockwork he heard gentle taps against the door.

He saw her and it only confirmed his suspicions. Her face was free of make-up and her hair was in a bun, but she was wearing the same clothes as the night before. The bruise was more prominent now with the absence of make-up, but what he could see was a fresh bruise. In the form of a lovebite at the base of her neck. It wasn’t that deep or dark, but he noticed straightaway.

Harry cleared his throat, “Hi.”

“Hey.” Claire mumbled, “Is Atlas up yet?”

“He’s not. D’you want to come in? I’ll make some coffee.”

Claire hesitated and eventually followed him inside of the familiar house. She sat down on the barstool she had been sitting in that first time she spent the day here and Harry had his back to her, working his coffee machine.

He swallowed through the lump in his throat, “So I take it you had a good date?”

“You could say that.” Claire breathed. Harry pressed his lips together, keeping his back to her. Claire cleared her throat, “We’re actually going out again next week.”

He turned around in lightning speed, “What?”

Claire blinked, “We’re going out again next week.” She repeated in a soft voice. Harry felt his fingers tightly gripping the countertop, “Like… like a second date?”

“Mhm.”

His knees weakened and he felt the stinging behind his lids, quickly turning around again to face the coffee machine, “That’s great.”

“It is.” Claire agreed, “He’s nice.”

They fell into silence and Harry poured her a cup of coffee as Claire drew a breath, “I can ask Belle, you know? To watch him. Next week.”

Harry immediately shook his head, “No way. Besides, it’s Christmas break. I’m sure Belle will want to do something else than babysit. And I don’t mind. We’re going to set up the tree, I’m sure Atlas will like that.”

“He will.” Claire nodded, “He’s been wanting a tree for a long time. We don’t have room in the apartment.”

Harry flicked his eyes to her, “Right.”

She forced him a smile and they fell into silence again. Harry realized he had never heard silence quite this fucking loud.

***

The week moved agonizingly slow. Claire showed up at school again, her bruise now faded. She picked up Atlas and shot a brief smile to Harry and Finn before spending the evening with her little man.

They cuddled and played board games, even some video games. It was always a task to entertain Atlas during school breaks. Claire couldn’t stay away from work so she usually organized camps for him or he spent a little more time with his father.

Not this time. Claire refused. She didn’t mind finding sitters and paying for them as long as Atlas didn’t spend any more time with Evan than absolutely necessary.

The had realized, after last weekend. After Atlas witnessed the abuse Evan put her through, that she would do everything in her power to keep him away. She wanted to give Evan a chance to be a father to Atlas, but he let him down over and over again. And mostly, Claire didn’t want Atlas to look up to Evan. And inherit some of his less nice qualities, like hitting women.

She couldn’t even imagine – and the thought made her sick – that Atlas would grow up to be like his father. It had resulted in more calls with her lawyer because she was getting slightly desperate for the money Evan owed her.

What had been taking her mind off things, was the prospect of her second date with Alexander. He had been an absolute sweetheart during their first date, so much so that Claire had felt butterflies. She opened up about Atlas and life as a single mum, and he was one of the first who didn’t laugh at her when she said she worked at Burger King. He noticed the bruise but didn’t ask her about it, besides wondering if she was in any pain.

She was, after a moment, from smiling so wide. So he gently kissed her at the end of the night and things got heated. Claire didn’t hesitate when he asked her to come to his apartment and they had spent a night between the sheets. Alexander had some stuff to learn, but Claire could be patient and guide him so he could learn how to satisfy her. She had searched high and low for an orgasm all night while giving him two, but it still didn’t mean it wasn’t fun.

Harry’s eyes had felt heavy on her when she went to drop Atlas off. Claire knew she looked good. She wore black again, a form-fitting dress to show off her curves with high heels to elevate her. She wore a bit of make-up but nothing too crazy and her hair was pinned back with a little butterfly clip.

His eyes had dragged up and down her form, boosting Claire’s confidence tremendously. She could see the heaviness in his eyes as they made a bit of polite small talk. She knew he was sorry about the way he spoke to her the week prior and she knew he didn’t like the fact she was going on a second date with Alexander.

She saw it in his stance, in his eyes. Jealousy. It was fine, Claire felt. Her and Harry did spent a lot of time together and even she’d feel a slight jab to her chest if he’d suddenly announce he was dating someone. In some stupid, crazy way it almost felt like they both had a claim on one another. But neither said anything and Claire wasn’t patient. Maybe she was taunting him, and part of her was. The dates in the past few months had all been disappointing and she expected the date with Alexander to be the same.

But he pleasantly surprised her and Claire had fun and felt seen. After the way Harry had spoken to her, it’s what she needed. And she couldn’t sit and wait around for him to figure out his feelings. She was moving on.

Moving on wasn’t easy though when your date doesn’t show up.

Claire looked like an idiot, sitting alone at the table in the restaurant. She checked her watch again, noticing Alexander was forty minutes late. She had double-checked their reservation to make sure she got the time and date right. She had texted him, called him, without answer. Her texts didn’t even go through, making her think he had her blocked.

She sipped slowly on her red wine until she had been there an hour, and she decided enough was enough. It was nine in the evening when she asked for the check to pay for her wine. The waiter shot her a sympathetic look that Claire brushed off, and she exited the restaurant.

Driving back to Harry’s house, she hadn’t notified him. She had only dropped Atlas off about an hour and a half ago and she suspected the three of them to just be sitting on the couch, watching a movie.

Claire shivered in the evening air as the had rang the door, hearing the familiar footsteps of Harry rushing over to the door before opening up with a frown. It softened at the sight of her. He hadn’t expected Claire here, an hour after she had left. The exciting glint she had in her eyes when leaving, was replaced by something he couldn’t really place.

“What happened?” He asked and Claire shrugged, fighting the embarrassed flush in her cheeks, “He stood me up.” She mumbled under her breath, “Can you grab Atlas? I really want to go home.”

“He stood you up?” Harry frowned, “What the fuck?”

Claire rolled her eyes, “Harry, it’s nothing. I’d just like to leave.”

“We’re in the middle of Monopoly.” He exhaled, “Look, just come in for a bit, you must be freezing.”

Claire hesitated. All she really wanted to do was go home with Atlas and cry in her shower before cuddling him to sleep. Harry opened the door wider, ushering her in, “Come on.”

And so she did. Her feet carried her into the house, met with the familiar warmth that Harry’s house exuded.

“Mummy!” Atlas sounded exited at the sight of his mother, jumping out of his chair to hug her. Claire smiled and kissed his forehead, “Hi, bub. ‘M back soon, aren’t I?”

Atlas giggled and jumped around, clearly very pleased with Claire joining the Monopoly-party.

“D’you want some tea? Or wine?” Harry offered.

“Wine.” Claire breathed immediately and Harry nodded, taking two glasses and filling them with some red wine as Finn and Atlas filled Claire in on how the game was going so far. She didn’t seem too in it with her head but nodded either way, quickly catching up on Harry’s strategy on losing on purpose to let either of the other boys win.

Claire followed along, playing without thinking and losing on purpose. Her wine was finished by the time Finn was crowned as the Monopoly-king.

As Finn and Atlas quickly settled down in front of the television, Claire and Harry were left to clear out the board game from the dinner table they had played at. Claire had put her hair up again with one of Harry’s pencils as they both tucked Monopoly back into the box.

“Some more wine?” Harry suggested. Claire exhaled and shook her head, “No, thanks, I still have to drive.”

“You’re not going home, are you?” Harry frowned, leaning against one of the chairs, “Claire, just stay here. You can sleep in the bed with Atlas. Or there’s even another guest room if you want.”

And Claire was too tired to argue. She timidly gave in and lifted her glass, “Well in that case… refill please.”

About an hour later, they had tucked their boys into bed. It was past their bedtime already but Harry and Claire agreed to cut them so slack since it was winter break and they didn’t have school for a few weeks.

“Do you want a shower? Or just some clothes of mine?”

“Just some clothes, please.” Claire responded, “’M a little cold.”

And so Harry gave her sweats, a shirt, a jumper and a pair of socks she could fit her feet in about three times. It looked a little ridiculous, but Harry had hearts in his eyes when she joined him on the sectional couch. She looked cuddly and soft, and her eyes were a little heavy from being tired and sad.

“Are you tired or do you want to watch a movie or something?” Harry asked as he popped his feet up on the coffee table. Claire was on the other side of the couch with a blanket around her, “Your couch is so comfortable, I’m probably going to fall asleep here.” She contently sighed, “Don’t even need a bed.”

Harry chuckled as he watched her nuzzle into the pillow. With her feet stretched his way, he gently tapped her shin, “How come you’re so tired?”

“’S just been a long week.” She sighed, “Arranging things with my boss for the winter break, so I can hire sitters throughout the day but can stay with Atlas at night.” She explained, “Don’t want him to spend his break with his father.”

Harry took a sip of his wine and softly exhaled, “Can I ask why not?”

Claire flicked her eyes up, appreciating the way Harry was more careful in asking her this time instead of how he approached the subject last time. She swallowed, “Well, he’s abusive.” She softly spoke, avoiding his eyes, “I don’t want Atlas around someone like him.”

“Would he hurt Atlas?” Harry frowned and Claire shrugged, “I don’t think so. But then again, I also didn’t think he’d ever hurt me.”

“He hit you, didn’t he? Two weeks ago?” Harry softly asked and Claire let out a breath, “Mhm.”

“Shit, Claire…” He cursed, shaking his head, “I’m so sorry.”

“’S not your fault.”

“No, I’m sorry for prying. I-I had a hunch and I should’ve just left it at that, it wasn’t fair of me.” Harry apologized, staring at his fingers before he lifted his head and turned to face her. Claire had a sad look on her face, “Just another thing added to the plate this week. His lawyer is literally such a dick. I just… I want this all to be over. To cut ties, to never have to see him again. But I also want Atlas to know his father.” She shrugged, “It’s hard.”

“I can imagine.” Harry sympathized, stroking his fingers over her covered shin. He licked his lip before continuing, “Were you two together for a long time?”

Claire sat up and hugged her legs to her body, her chin on her knee, “Few years. I made some wrong friends in school and went through a phase. I used drugs sometimes, I drank a lot, I partied, dropped out of school… I met Evan during that time and was already on thin ice with my parents. I sort of moved in with him in this little studio. He was – uh… a dealer. And he used a lot. Sort of pulled me into that.” She softly explained.

Claire closed her eyes for a moment, “I even used when pregnant. I didn’t know I was pregnant for the longest time and just kept drinking and doing drugs, I-I had no idea.” She murmured and Harry’s heart cracked, watching her as she blinked away some tears, “It’s literally a miracle that Atlas was born and that he was completely fine.”

It was silent for a bit as Claire relived some memories in her brain. Harry turned to face her more, scooting a little closer on the couch, “Was he happy that you were pregnant?”

“Ecstatic, actually.” Claire mumbled, “He was so happy. Of course, he was high most of the time. When sober, he hardly acknowledged me. He was… very difficult to read. When he was high, he was super happy or the complete opposite. When he was sober, he barely showed any emotion at all.”

Claire took a breath, “The moment my parents knew I was pregnant, they cut me off completely. I haven’t been in contact with them ever since. So I moved in with Evan permanently. Neither of us had a job and he got money from dealing, but it was a dangerous life. He got threatened a lot and was always stressed, he worked that out on me. He hit me, always when he was high. I forgave him, I had nowhere to go.” She shrugged, shaking her head to herself, “It was difficult for a few years. When Atlas was around two, I finally got away. I’ve been on my own ever since.”

The television was softly playing in the background but neither Harry or Claire paid it any attention. She lifted her head to send him a weak smile, “I’m happy now. Atlas is amazing and I love him so much. It’s just… hard sometimes. I don’t want to have to deal with him anymore, it just brings back so many memories and he keeps thinking he’s got some claim over me.” She nibbled her lip, “Atlas goes to his place sometimes on a Saturday. Like… once a month or something. He never stays the night. Two weeks ago he went there and obviously shared stuff about his life. About Finn, about… you.”

“Shit.” Harry murmured and Claire hummed, “Yeah. Evan lost it. I went to pick up Atlas again and he freaked out, said I was… well, every name in the book, really. Doesn’t usually bother me, but Atlas was around a-and I fought back, told him to stop. He just – well, yeah.” She pointed to the faded bruise on her face and sniffed once, “And that’s that.”

“Atlas saw?” Harry whispered and Claire nodded, “Yep.”

“Holy fuck… that guy is insane.” He scooted a little closer again, “Claire, you need like a restraining order. And you need full custody.”

“I’m trying.” She sighed, “I swear, these things take so long. I’ve been trying for months now, years maybe. It’s really not easy.”

Harry exhaled, “No, I know. I know.”

“Do you…” Claire asked warily, “do you have full custody?”

“Mhm.” Harry shortly nodded, “Astrid voluntarily wrote away her rights. She wanted nothing to do with Finn or me, so it was an easy arrangement. It’s more difficult when both parties fight the other.”

Claire frowned, “She… She chose to not be a part of Finn’s life?”

He shortly cleared his throat, “Yeah. Astrid… she’s a complex person, Claire. ‘M not even really sure how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want.” She softly spoke and Harry shook his head, “I think we’re sharing traumas here and it’s only fair if I share mine.” He tried to make it sound like a joke, but there was heaviness in the air. Harry licked his lip, “We met when we were young and got married. Always wanted a family. It didn’t work for some time until Astrid got pregnant with Finn. From the moment she was pregnant I just… saw her change. It’s like she felt suffocated all of a sudden and only then realized how much her life was going to change as a mum. She did all these things, took all these trips spontaneously, like she was scared to be an adult all of a sudden. I sort of let her do her thing, figuring it was just what she needed at that point.”

Claire listened as Harry continued, “When he was born, it got even worse. It was like she resented him. We talked to therapists who brought up the whole postpartum depression thing, but Astrid said it was more than that. She didn’t want anything to do with Finn and actually tried to be as far away from him. Her motherly instincts never kicked in. She took off with her friends, took trips, partied and whatnot, always leaving me here with him. It was like she regressed back to her life in her early twenties. We hardly saw one another, she missed a lot of his first few years. She just didn’t want him. And then one day she just announced that she was leaving. Moving to some island to start over, signing away her rights and… she was gone. We got divorced easily and I’ve been a single parent ever since.”

“Wow.” Claire breathed, “That’s… so crazy. When was the last time you saw her?”

Harry scratched above his brow, “Probably… four years ago? I have no idea where she is right now, or what she’s doing. She’s completely messed it up for me, I don’t want anything to do with her ever again.” He sounded bitter and Claire shortly nodded, “Understandable.”

“It’s just like a sense of responsibility. I don’t know…” Harry mumbled, “We actively tried to have a baby, it’s not like it was a surprise.”

They fell into a silence until Harry exhaled and held up his glass, “Cheers to our exes.”

“Cheers.” Claire chuckled before shaking her head, “How sad are we.”

Harry took a sip, “We’re not sad.” He argued with a soft smile and Claire puffed out a breath, “I am. Can’t believe I got stood up. That was super embarrassing.”

“It’s honestly insane. He’s a fucking asshole.”

Claire pressed her lips together, “I mean, if he just wanted sex, he could’ve said so. I’m not stupid, like I get it. Just fucking tell me the truth and don’t string me along.”

Harry shot her a sly smile, “At least you got an orgasm out of it.”

“He did.” Claire corrected him in a shrug, her voice nothing but a gentle mumble. Harry looked at Claire over the rim of his glass, “Hm?” He wasn’t sure if he had heard her correctly.

She nibbled her lip, avoiding his eyes as she let out a soft breath, “Well – he did. I didn’t – uh… he didn’t get me off.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Harry sounded in complete disbelief before throwing his head back with a laugh.

Claire blushed red in embarrassment and rolled her eyes, “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not!” Harry laughed, shaking his head, “Holy shit, I can’t believe this guy?! He didn’t even get you off and then has the nerve to ghost you?!”

She took another sip, “Well, yeah.”

“He’s literally such a dick, what the hell…” Harry mumbled, “So was he just like… bad or anything?”

Claire’s red cheeks didn’t disappear as Harry continued the subject and she let out a shuddery breath, “I mean, not really. Although actually, yes. He tried, I think.” The more Claire thought about it, the more she hesitated. Sighing out, she forced Harry a small smile, “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does, though. Who the fuck does he think he is.”

Harry’s anger was sort of infectious and she felt the fire in her chest, “You know what? Yes. You’re right. It does matter. Because I pulled out all my tricks, you know? Even gave him head! He came twice!” She rambled and Harry’s eyes widened. Claire let out a sigh, “I just want – you know?” She used hand gestures now and Harry watched intently, “What?” He asked in confusion.

Claire put her glass of wine down on the coffee table with a slight slam, “I just want a fucking guy to just… grab me! Like – “ She pressed her lips together, “just someone to throw me around, have his fucking way with me, shut me up. Make it rough, you know?”

It was Harry’s turn to get red cheeks as he listened to Claire explaining her sexual desires. She seemed lost in her head, sighing again with tense shoulders, “And just claim me?! I don’t know, just like fucking take me and kiss me a-“

Claire couldn’t finish her sentence before feeling Harry’s lips on hers. He had lunged forward at her, near knocking her backwards as his mouth was on hers. Claire yelped in surprise at the short kiss. Harry was panting as he pulled back, only an inch or two. His wine-stained lips brushed hers.

“W-What are you doing?” Claire murmured.

“God, just shut up.” Harry groaned, watching Claire’s wide eyes as he grabbed her waist and yanked her body on top of his. Claire near flew through the air, gasping in surprise as she found herself perched up on Harry’s lap with her thighs on each side of his. Her chest heaved in shallow breaths, hands bracing herself on his shoulders as she stared down at him.

His eyes were dark and deep, lust dripping from him as he sinfully slipped his hands up her covered thighs. They stared at each other for just a moment before Harry grabbed the back of her head to pull her down and reconnect their lips.

A moan from Claire got muffled against his lips. Her fingers dug into his shoulders before moving into his hair, cupping his jaw and sliding into his neck. She touched wherever she could reach, feeling his strong arms wrapped around her form to keep her tightly pressed into his chest. A tug on her hips made her scoot up on his lip, her mouth parting at the bulge in his sweatpants.

“Fuck.” Claire moaned, pushing her tongue into Harry’s mouth. Claire reciprocating was something Harry could’ve only dreamed of. Everything she had been describing was exactly what he had been wanting to do for weeks now, but felt too unsure to do so. He didn’t want to scare her off, yet now he felt fucking unhinged.

The moment his fingers tugged at the jumper covering Claire’s body, she caught on. Her blonde hair flew around as they broke apart and she tugged it off, leaving her in one of his shirts.

“Fucking finally.” Claire moaned as Harry pulled her hips down on his and her head rolled back on her shoulders, “Please – oh god…” She was bucking back into him, hips sensually rocking in wave-like motions to stimulate him. Harry felt the heat radiating from her core, his head dropping back on the couch, “Jesus.” He hissed in bliss.

He lifted his head again, brushing his lips over her pulse-point, “Should we go to the bedroom?”

“Uh-huh.” Claire panted, “Please, I need you.”

A surge of confidence shot through Harry, “Yeah?”

Claire wrapped her fingers in his hair, “Yes.” She whispered, “So bad.”

Harry’s lips nipped on her neck, “Do you need me or do you just need to get fucked?”

“You.” Claire spoke without missing a beat, “Been wanting this for so long.”

Harry pulled back with surprise written all over his face, “What? Really?”

“Yes.” She chuckled. Harry frowned, “Why didn’t you say anything? I-I’ve liked you for months.”

“I know.”

His cheeks turned pink again and Claire smiled in amusement, brushing her thumb over his bottom lip. Harry swallowed thickly, “Y-You know? And you never said or did anything? Kept going on dates with other guys?”

“Well, I could’ve been wrong.” Claire shrugged, “Didn’t want to make a fool of myself and ruin our arrangement or ruin anything for Atlas.”

Harry was about to say something but Claire beat him to it, biting her lip and brushing her hair over her shoulder. Harry’s eyes dropped to the faded lovebite on her neck and his throat tightened as Claire batted her lashes, “Besides, it was funny to see you a little jealous.”

“Played me, hm?” Harry growled, tangling a hand in her hair and Claire gasped at the tight hold he had on her scalp, pulling her to the side a little as his mouth latched onto the still existing hickey. Claire’s eyes rolled back, her hips bucking on their own accord as he deepened the bruise, claiming her. She was ruining her underwear, a sob stuck in her throat from how desperate she was and how badly she needed him.

“Still funny?” Harry licked over the fresh bruise, throbbing and angry purple to disturb Claire’s skin. His fingers dug into her hip, “Answer me.”

“F-Fuck, no.” Claire panted, “God, Harry, please.”

He pulled her hips again, dragging her up his growing cock as he exhaled a shaky sigh. Claire blinked her eyes open, somehow sensing his hesitance, “Are you okay?” She questioned softly, cupping his cheeks. Her nose bumped his and Harry puckered his lips for her to give him a gentle kiss.

“Yeah.” He rasped, “I might – uh… be a little rusty. ‘S been a while.”

Claire nodded, “Okay.”

Harry chewed the inside of his cheek, “No, it’s like been… years.” He mumbled the last part, too embarrassed to actually say out loud. Claire froze on top of him, staring at his eyes which refused to look back at her, “Wait, are you serious? You haven’t had sex in years?”

“Yep.” He exhaled, “It’s, uh… well, I’ve been with women after Astrid, just not many. Had a few one night stands and it just… well, didn’t really do it for me. And I just stopped then, focussing completely on raising Finn and then it didn’t happen anymore.”

Claire was quiet for a moment, taking in the information before she nodded, “Okay, that makes sense. But you… masturbate?”

“Mhm.”

“And… do you want this?” She checked. Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Fuck, yes. Wanted this for weeks.”

“Weeks?”

He flicked his eyes up, “Months, actually.”

Claire kissed him, “Take me to bed, Harry.”

He didn’t hesitate, grabbing Claire underneath her thighs to pick her up. She was astounded at his strength. She had seen Harry shirtless by the pool and had seen him in shirts all the time with exposed arms. She had never witnessed him working out or anything, but he was strong enough to not blink while carrying her up the stairs.

“We’re gonna have to be quiet.” He murmured into her neck, “Don’t want to wake our boys.”

“Definitely not.” Claire agreed.

Harry’s foot kicked open the door of his bedroom, “What I meant is you’re going to have to be quiet.” He quipped with a sly smirk as he dropped Claire on the mattress. She watched him, standing at the foot of the bed to rip off his shirt and leave him topless. Claire’s thigh quivered at the sight of his muscular body and the many tattoos. His abs flexed as he moved and she was mesmerized.

Harry felt another boost of confidence at the hungry look in Claire’s eyes. She laid on her beck and he took her ankle, sliding off the huge sock he had given her before moving over to the other foot, “How do you want it?”

Claire wanted to moan. She tipped her head back with closed eyes, biting her lip, “Hard.” She whimpered, “Deep.”

Harry chuckled, “A little greedy, hm?”

After taking off her socks, he tugged at the leg holes of her sweatpants. Due to the size of the clothes, they easily slipped off of Claire’s hips and thighs, easy for Harry to take off. Every inch of her legs became visible to him, as did the red thong she was wearing. His mouth watered, chucking the sweatpants over his shoulders before climbing on top of her.

Claire parted her legs immediately, arms reaching out to pull him into her. She hungrily kissed him, tangling a hand back in his hair as her legs curled around his thighs to keep him close, close enough to feel him between her thighs. With the disappearance of her sweatpants, she felt him much more clear, rubbing against her pussy.

Harry was hard as a rock, so turned on by her and this moment and the way he had imagined this. He had never been the most spontaneous person – something Astrid loved to complain about – so it took him a lot of courage to just grab Claire and hope for the best. He didn’t want to scare her off or cross any boundaries, and somehow they didn’t really know each other on a level that he knew if this was all okay or not.

But the way she whimpered in his mouth and desperately pulled at him, was enough proof that she needed him badly. And according to her, it was him she needed. No one else.

Claire got impatient, reaching for his hand to bring it between them. She left it at that, handing the reigns over to Harry. His cheeks turned slightly pink and with their lips still brushing together in kisses, Harry nervously skimmed his fingers over the hem of Claire’s panties.

She shuddered, holding her breath, “God – Harry, get on with it.” She pleaded. His eyes closed with a guttural moan, slipping his fingers inside her underwear to stroke between her folds with the rough pads of them. Claire immediately squeaked and jumped in sensitivity of the touch and Harry latched his lips onto her neck again to silence himself.

His fingers moved up and down to feel her, underwear tenting around his hand as he felt her so wet and warm for him, it could make him cry. Slick, dripping pussy as Claire opened her legs wider to allow him more room. It spread her for him, letting his fingers graze over every ridge and bump she had until he settled the pads of his fingers on her clit.

She gasped desperately, her legs so tense and her entire body so worked up. She wasn’t sure if she was hurting him with the firm grip on his hair, but she needed something to ground herself. Arching her back up, she whined, “F-Fuck me. Please.”

Harry groaned again, a sound that went straight between Claire’s legs as he kept touching her clit. He rubbed circles to arouse her more, to get her all wet and open. Harry knew he was rather well-endowed and even though Claire had sex on a much more regular basis than him, it would be presumptuous to assume the guy who couldn’t get her off last week was anywhere near his size.

“Need to get you ready.” Harry mumbled into her neck, lifting his head and finding the strength to look in her eyes. It hit him like a sledgehammer, the look she sent him. Horny, desperate, near crying for him. Her eyes glazed over, her lips in an inviting, swollen pout and her cheeks flushed.

“I am.” Claire breathed out, “So ready. P-Please.”

Harry bit his lip, “’M not teasing you here, Claire. You’ll thank me for it.” At that, he grabbed one of her hands to guide it to his crotch, inviting her to touch him. Claire did so without hesitation, panting out as she fought with the elastic band of his boxers before finally getting her hand in. She paused immediately, eyes flicking up and widening dramatically, “Wow.”

“Yeah.” Harry smirked arrogantly, “Still think you’re ready?”

Her hand felt small around the girth of his erection, stroking curiously from thick base to swollen tip. If there was anything Harry knew, it was that he was fucking ready for her.

Claire let out a shuddery exhale as her head thudded back into the mattress, “Yes, please – I can’t wait. I need you.” She panted, restlessly writhing on the mattress, “I need you inside of me, I need it to hurt. I can take it.”

“Holy shit.” Harry cursed, bucking his hips into her hand. He stared at her, losing his sense of hesitation as he licked his lip, “You have to tell me if I need to stop, okay?”

“Uh-huh. Promise.”

“Good girl.” He whispered, removing his hand from in between her legs. He quickly brought the tips of his fingers to his mouth to get them clean, his tongue swirling around casually before leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. Claire was fucking dumbfounded.

Harry jumped off the bed, rummaging one of his drawers as she pushed herself up on her elbows, “Are you going to tie me up?” She sounded almost hopeful and Harry chuckled, shaking his head, “No, I like having your hands in my hair. ‘M looking for a condom.”

“Right.” Claire took it upon herself to slip out of the shirt she was wearing and then remove her underwear to leave her completely naked. She laid on Harry’s dark blue sheets, staring up at the beamed ceiling of his house as Harry grumbled under his breath, closing the drawer to open another, “Found it!” He cheered.

He turned around in triumph but his smile quickly dropped as he laid eyes on a naked Claire. His throat ran dry, seeing the length of her torso, the dips of her ribs and her chest. Full, firm tits and hardened nipples sitting up and waiting to be taken into his mouth. The stretchmarks on her thighs, the lines of her underwear denting her skin and some faded tan lines gracing her.

“So fucking beautiful.” Harry sighed, slowly walking over to her. The pace had slowed a little bit and was less frantic now as he stood at the edge of the bed, letting his eyes drag over her. Where Claire assumed she’d feel shy, she actually felt confident. Harry’s eyes studied her and he looked mesmerized. He wasn’t judging any part of her, he just wanted to see her.

Harry exhaled shakily and shook his head to himself, “Should’ve done this way sooner.”

“I would’ve let you.” Claire teased. Harry smirked slightly as he took it upon himself to open up the square foil of the condom. He dropped his boxers, Claire’s eyes widening and her mouth watering at the sight of his hard cock bobbing up and standing up tall.

“Oh my god.” She whimpered when he shortly stroked himself before fiddling with the condom. “Wait!” Claire squeaked. Harry paused and his brows raised, “What is it?”

Claire swallowed, her eyes glued to his erection, “I want to suck you off.”

“Fuck, no.” Harry breathed, shaking his head sternly as he rolled the condom down his shaft, “If you take me in your mouth, I’m gonna cum immediately.”

Claire wanted to protest but Harry was already hovering over her, knees kicking her legs apart to allow him room. Goosebumps rose over her body at his closeness, his nose continuously brushing into hers as he had one hand around his base to guide towards her.

“Still okay?” He whispered and Claire let out a soft moan, “Yes, yes.”

“Still think your little pussy can take me?”

Her eyes shot open as a tingle of arousal ran down her spine. She bucked up while biting down her lip, somehow not expecting Harry to say anything like that. Claire fought for air, “Yes.” She rasped again, “Please.”

The second she felt Harry’s blunt tip against her opening, Claire focussed on relaxing. She attempted to spread her legs wider for him, focussing on not tensing up any of her muscles as he held the eye contact. Both their mouths opened in a breathless whine as he pushed in. He felt her walls rippling around him, fighting the intrusion for a moment. Hesitation flashed over Claire’s face for a brief second until she breathed through it, her eyes rolling back as her head lolled to the side from the stretch.

“Fuck, you’re so wet and tight.” Harry lowly commented, taking his sweet time in inching forward to fill her up. Claire was panting, her nails digging into his back as she felt the burn between her thighs. He was everywhere, and he wasn’t even fully in yet. Harry paused for a few seconds before rocking in again to get deeper. Claire bit her lip with a high moan escaping her lips.

“Quiet.” Harry whispered, kissing her shortly. She nodded frantically, “I-I know, fuck – you’re so big.”

“You can take it.”

Claire arched, Harry holding onto her waist before sliding his hand up to play with her nipple. He cupped her breast, giving a squeeze before using his thumb to tease her. He used his other hand to grip the bedding, holding himself up on his elbow.

“Fuck.” He whimpered when he finally bottomed out. Harry relaxed slightly, feeling his hips flush to Claire’s thighs. His cock twitched inside of her, a tight fit between her snug, wet walls. She was panting underneath him, the sight so erotic. He couldn’t help himself when he let go of her breast and grabbed her throat instead, giving a light squeeze while kissing her.

He swallowed down her moans as he started moving, rearing back about halfway before rocking in again. He kept the pace slow and gentle for now to let her adjust, and their tongues roamed each other’s mouths in the meantime. Harry was sure to have marks down his back from her nails as Claire clawed at him.

“Okay?” Harry checked breathlessly as he brushed his lips over hers. “Yes.” Claire confirmed, “You can go harder.”

Harry sighed, “Thank god.” And then he picked up his pace and the strength of his thrusts. The breath got knocked out of Claire’s lungs with each drop of his hips on hers, nudging up a spot so deep inside it felt near unbearable yet she still wanted more.

Harry shifted his hips, scooting closer as his lips were on her neck and he buried his face in her throat. “God, you feel so good.” He moaned, “Such a fucking tight cunt for me.”

With the constant shifting in his position, it didn’t take Harry long to find her g-spot. Claire jolted up with a high whine the moment his tip brushed up her front wall, and her legs spasmed. He could feel her gushing slightly as her muscles clamped around him tightly.

“Oh my god!” Claire moaned, causing Harry to slap his hand right over her mouth, “Keep it down.” He hissed, holding his hand to muffle her moans. A tear escaped her eye as he kept pounding her into the mattress in a murderous pace, just like she had asked him to.

“Am I getting you close, baby?” He near taunted, sweat pearling at his hairline and a smirk gracing his pink lips at the sight of her wrecked state, “Already?” He added.

Claire managed to nod and he tutted her, “Good. Found your sweet spot, didn’t I? Right…” He brought his hips back before thrusting sharply, “there?”

Claire’s eyes rolled back as she shook uncontrollably, another wave of squirt wetting Harry, who moaned at the feeling and the sight, “Fuck yes, get wet on my cock, hm? Need you to cum for me, Claire. You fucking deserve it.” He put force behind his words and power into his hips, relentlessly fucking into her.

He kept his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, and Claire sobbed as she was on the edge. Harry thought about it. Teasing her, torturing her. But her eyes were watery, her nails denting his skin and her pussy so good for him. He allowed her to cum. With two more deep thrusts, Claire convulsed. A scream ripped through her chest, muffled by Harry’s hand as he fucked her through the orgasm. Claire’s legs clenched around him as she arched and writhed.

“’S good, that’s good.” Harry praised, kissing away her tears, “Fuck, that’s so good. Y’feel so fucking amazing, cumming on my cock like that. Such a good girl.”

Claire whined against his hand, her fingers curling around his wrist to pull at his arm. Harry let go, letting Claire desperately inhale the breath her lungs so badly needed. She coughed slightly from the gagging, wheezing in air as her body trembled in the aftermath of her orgasm. Harry’s thrusts had turned into gentle grinding motions, smirking down at her, “Feel good?”

“Oh my god.” Claire whimpered, still shuddering, “S-So good. Holy shit. I’ve never had an orgasm like that.”

They both slowed down a little, Harry’s cock painfully twitching inside of her. Claire blinked her eyes open, “Can you still keep going?”

“Mhm.” Harry swallowed, “Little more. I think I could get you to cum again.”

She smiled, biting her lip, “That would be great.”

He kissed her, smiling against her lips. His heart fluttered as she ran a hand through his hair, massaging his scalp a little. Harry hummed against her lips, still inside of her, “I’m afraid I’m obsessed with you.”

“Same.” Claire breathed back without a thought, her eyes exuding warmth and comfort as she stared up at him. A slight clench of her pussy brought Harry back to his mission of the night. Getting her off again.

Without warning, he lifted up on his arms and slid back, slipping from her. Claire gasped at the loss of contact, watching dazedly as Harry leaned down between her legs and his hot mouth was on her. “Oh! Oh my god." Claire breathed, hips jolting up as he licked at her, tongue wiggling between her pussy lips and up to her clit to give a harsh suck. Claire bit her lip, “H-Harry…” She moaned.

He hummed back, sliding the flat of his tongue up her cunt before sitting up again. He licked around his lips, tasting her before tapping her thigh, “Are you gonna ride me?”

Claire was still catching her breath as she swallowed, “I don’t think my legs work.”

Harry chuckled, biting his lip, “Won’t have to do anything. Just get on top of me.” He urged her and Claire nodded, letting him help her as they switched positions. Much like on the couch, Claire straddled him. The wet of her pussy pressed into the base of his cock, grinding softly as they indulged in another making-out session.

Harry held her hair back and had one hand on her ass, cupping the flesh and squeezing, urging her to grind into him. When he felt like Claire was too scared to fully sit down on him, he slapped her ass and she gasped, no longer holding herself up.

“So beautiful.” Harry whispered, head popped up on a few pillows as Claire hovered over him. They shared little kisses as he urged her hips up to sink down on him. “God – fuck.” Claire whimpered as she took him, slowly sitting down on his cock and feeling him in a different angle.

“Good, good.” Harry praised, his eyes closing as her warm cunt swallowed him, “So fucking good.” It sounded like a slur and both took a moment to adjust again.

“Hands behind your back.” Harry instructed in a strained voice, “Fuck, ‘m not gonna last long.”

Claire quickly obliged, depending on Harry’s arms to hold her a little upright. She was leaned completely over him, face hovering over his. Harry held one hand in the back of her neck with her hair in a makeshift ponytail, and held his other hand around her throat to keep her head tilted up.

With Claire’s arms behind her back, she was completely folded up for him and she loved it. She could feel her wetness seeping from her pussy, making a mess of Harry’s thighs. He didn’t seem to mind one bit, hardly paying it any attention before he started fucking up into her.

The position made Claire gasp, her body going lax for a moment before the pleasure consumed her and she let herself get used by Harry. He was so insanely deep like this, it was almost painful but in the best way. She’d be sore, for sure. She’d feel him for days, the way he stretched her and claimed her. God, it was everything she had craved.

“Holy shit – Claire,” Harry panted, “I need you to cum again.”

“Uh-huh.” She managed to choke out, “Please, it’s so good.” Her eyes watered again and Harry groaned softly, staring at her. They kissed again, his hand no longer on her throat but affectionately cupping her cheek as her tongue slipped into his mouth.

It was like he needed that moment before turning into a full animal. Holding both hands on the makeshift ponytail, he gave her a sharp tug to have her staring up at the ceiling. With Claire folded back in half and her hands still behind her back, Harry was relentless in the way his hips snapped up and his cock moved inside of her wet pussy.

“O-Oh god, Harry!” Claire squeaked, “I’m gonna cum. So hard, fuck.” Her words were jumbled and stuttering, her eyes tightly screwed shut as her second orgasm washed over her. She was quiet this time, unable to get out a sound or a word. Harry let go of her hair and Claire dropped her face in the crook of his neck, panting out desperately as she clenched and shuddered and convulsed around him.

Harry’s eyes rolled back at the feeling, “Shit, oh god.” He cursed, sliding both hands down to her ass to knead her and keep her firmly pressed to him. He grabbed the flesh, spreading her cheeks and rolling her back down onto him as he finished inside of the condom. He was sweaty and clammy, and Claire was sprawled out on top of him without the ability to move.

Both stayed like that for a moment. Claire shuddered every so often, her muscles tensing after two harsh orgasms as Harry was melted into the bed with her on top of him. They shared gentle caresses, his fingers dancing over her spine as she stroked her thumb over his jaw, “Wow.” Claire whispered after a few minutes.

Harry lazily smiled with his eyes closed, “Yeah. Wow. Shit, that was good.”

“Mhm.” She hummed and Harry sighed, “We should clean up a bit, hm? And go to sleep?”

Claire was yawning as she agreed, “Yes.”

Grabbing her hip, Harry gently nudged her off. Claire let him, no strength in her legs as she fell on the mattress next to him. Harry’s cock slipped out of her, softening up inside of the condom and he hissed in sensitivity as he got up and headed into the en-suite bathroom to clean up and dispose of the condom.

After washing his hands, he went to get Claire. He pulled her up, “C’mon, you need to pee.” He whispered. Claire fought to keep her eyes open, fully naked as Harry helped her into the bathroom and gave her the privacy to use the toilet.

Both brushed their teeth after that and collapsed in the bed. No words were spoken when Harry pulled Claire into his side for her head to rest on his chest and her arms to wrap around him. He cuddled her back, brushing his lips over her forehead, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” She whispered back, giving one more kiss to his neck before falling asleep.

Harry feared that it might be awkward in the morning, waking up with Claire after that. But it wasn’t. If anything, his heart soared as he was woken up with kisses to his chest, leading up to his neck and his jaw as her hand stroked over his side.

He shortly squeezed her body, eyes still closed, “Hey.” He rasped. Claire smiled into his neck, her leg hooked over his hips, “Hi, good morning.”

He kept his eyes closed as he lazily rolled around with her, changing the position until he was cuddled into her side with his face in her neck, “What time is it?”

“The sun’s coming up.” Claire responded in a whisper. Harry’s arms were around her and he inhaled her scent, puckering his lips, “Hmm.”

“Think we woke anyone last night?”

His lips curled into a soft smirk, remembering every second as he let out a breath, “Don’t think so, no. How are you feeling?”

“Good.” Claire whispered, shifting a little in his hold until she cupped his jaw. Harry’s eyes opened as he felt her kissing him, a few gentle pecks placed on his lips. He smiled involuntary, staring at Claire who looked giddy and sparkly in the morning.

“This is a nice way to wake up.” He whispered and she hummed, “It sure is.” They were in silence for a bit until Claire took a breath, “So what’s usually for breakfast on Saturdays?”

“Pancakes.” Harry yawned. He gently squeezed her waist, “Wanna help me?”

About ten minutes later, they were in the kitchen. Claire was dressed in her underwear and just a shirt of Harry’s, reaching well over her ass while they roamed around the kitchen to get everything for the pancakes and stealing kisses in between. Harry could hardly focus on the stupid pancakes, constantly having his hands on her and hiking up the shirt to get a peek of what was underneath.

“Harry.” Claire giggled, “The boys will be up soon.”

He stood behind her, pushing her into the countertop a little as his fingers toyed with the hem of the shirt. His lips were on her neck from behind, “We’ll hear.” He whispered, “Just a quickie.”

Claire didn’t say anything, and Harry felt her giving in as she relaxed. He smirked into her neck, “So good for me.” He murmured lowly, bunching the shirt up around her waist. He pulled back a little to stare at her ass, covered by the thin band of lace of the red thong. He bit his lip, grazing his thumb over the fabric, “Let me get a condom.” He whispered.

She whined in protest, grabbing his wrist to keep him right where he was, “No, fuck that. Just do me.” She sighed, “Fuck me bare. I wanna feel you.”

Harry groaned, not needing more convincing than that. He was quick, hooking her thong to the side and pushing his sweats down. He spat down into his hand to lube himself up, guiding between her ass cheeks to find her weeping pussy. Claire leaned over the countertop a bit more to make it easier, and Harry pushed in slowly again.

He watched, the way her fingers gripped around the edge of the countertop, the way her back tensed at the intrusion, the way her head dropped and the way her legs trembled as he entered her again.

“Are you sore?” He whispered, urging her to stand up straighter again so he could wrap his arms around her. They slipped underneath the shirt, palming her tits as Claire leaned her head back on his shoulder, “A bit, but it’s so okay.” She responded. Harry hummed, nipping on her neck as he started fucking her. He was sensitive, early in the morning. His cock was painfully hard and he sighed in bliss of being inside of her again.

The kitchen was silent apart from the steady ticking of the clock and the faint sound of a car driving by every once in a while. They breathed sharply and heavily, but both kept their moans down. The only other thing that could be heard was the sound of Harry’s hips slapping into her ass, fucking her from behind.

It didn’t feel like enough anymore, and after a few minutes he slipped out to turn her around. Grabbing her thighs, Harry easily lifted Claire up on the countertop, lips hovering over one another as he pushed in again. His cock shone in the slick of her arousal, easily sinking back into her pussy as she sat up at the perfect height.

He held one hand on her thigh, hiking it up over his hips as he fucked her quickly and sharp. “Fuck.” Harry choked out a whisper, tugging Claire to the edge to get deeper. She leaned back on one palm, watching him intently as Harry fucked her for his own pleasure. She didn’t mind. Claire was too sore and tired to reach an orgasm, but watching Harry as he neared his own end, was mesmerizing.

No words were spoken, but his jaw went slack and he buried himself deep inside of her when finishing. As Harry felt like he was unable to keep his moans down, he desperately kissed her, spurts of his cum filling Claire on an early, lazy Saturday morning in the kitchen. His fingers dented her hips as his orgasm seemed endless, fucking her bare. She felt amazing and he hadn’t expected anything less.

Both were panting as the ringing in Harry’s ears subsided. He relaxed a little, unclenching his muscles as he stroked up Claire’s sides, “Shit, you didn’t cum.” He panted out. She hummed, “That’s okay. You can make it up to me later.”

He breathed out a chuckle, it quickly disappearing as he heard a door upstairs. Claire’s eyes widened and Harry glanced around to reach for tissues. He slipped out of her, using the tissues to clean up any spilling of his cum. In an ideal world, he’d watch intently as it oozed out of her swollen cunt, possibly use his mouth on her decently this time.

But they didn’t have time. Footsteps from upstairs hurried down the stairs and he heard the giggling of two little boys as Claire hurried into the downstairs bathroom to clean up and get decent. Harry washed his hands and used a clean cloth to wipe down the countertop.

By the time Claire returned from the bathroom, the sight in front of her warmed her heart. Harry was playing around in the kitchen with Atlas and Finn. And everything just felt so normal. She walked up behind him as he stirred the pancake batter. It didn’t feel weird when she wrapped her arms around his form and pressed a kiss to his clothed shoulder, “Can we stay for breakfast?”

Harry glanced at her over his shoulder, seeing the softness in her eyes. He smiled and reached back further to bump his nose into hers, “You can stay forever.”

//

[appocalipse]

hello! can I please request "I really, really want to kiss you right now." with steve and our shy!reader friend?!

here you go my love! hope you like it ♥ 1.3 k

The rain catches the two of you by surprise.

It pours down relentlessly, the cold droplets stinging your skin as you and Steve hurry towards his car, sadly parked way too far away from the charming flea market you had somehow dragged him to earlier that afternoon. 

Well, not really dragged exactly — Steve himself had volunteered to give you a ride the moment he heard you telling Robin how much you wanted to go and see if you could find some new furniture for your apartment, maybe even some decorations. But you felt as if you had dragged him there because, c'mon, what kind of guy thinks walking around a flea market with a friend is any fun?

And to top it off, the summer rain had come out of nowhere, sending everyone desperately running for shelter somewhere. Some lucky vendors had their tents already set up when it started, others began trying to cover their wares with tarps or whatever else they had at hand. A good number of them simply started to pack up their things to leave though, as did most of the potential customers who had been taking a look around — you and Steve included.

He had left his BMW in the parking lot of a closed store. It had seemed much closer before than it does now, as you and him run through the rain, palms over your heads to try to shield your faces from the relentless water.

You accidentally step into a puddle. Water splashes around your ankle, wetting the bare skin all the way up to your calf. You mutter a curse under your breath, deeply resenting your decision of wearing a summer dress today. "Oh, great." 

Steve chuckles, looking over his shoulder to you. Then what you can only assume is instant karma happens, and he slips and falls into a larger puddle, splashing water all over his pants and shoes.

You try to hold back, you really do, but the laughter is already building up inside of you, threatening to come out. And besides, he makes no move to get up, sitting there on the ground all wet, looking up at you like an abandoned puppy.

You giggle, which makes him laugh as well. 

"Sure," he says, "go ahead and laugh."

"Sorry, I'm sorry!" you choke out, trying to hold back your laughter as you approach him, offering one hand to help him up. "Are you okay?"

But of course he is. Except for the blow to his ego, that is. And now, in addition to just being wet, his jeans are also partially stained with mud.

And the t-shirt — which is white, no less — starts to stick to his skin, giving you a view you didn't ask for but that's certainly hard to ignore.

Steve accepts your hand, but you use both hands and too much force to pull him up, so he almost collides with you when he finally stands, his face inches from yours. You both laugh, because it was supposed to be funny — his head almost bumps into yours — but he grabs your shoulders and the remnants of the laughter from before slowly die when you realize without a doubt that he's looking at your mouth.

And you at his. In the rain. Doesn't get any more romantic than this.

Except for the fact that Steve is Steve, the former King Steve, the boy who had a pretty girl on his arm every week, while you are...you.

You're not sure who pulls away first, who clears their throat, changes the subject. But before you know it, you're sitting in the passenger seat of Steve's car, staring at the dashboard as lightning cuts across the darkened sky in the distance, a storm clearly brewing.

And it's worse. This feeling you have whenever you look at him or he says your name or anyone mentions his…it's somehow worse like this, in this moment, inside this car.

As if that wasn't enough, he offers you a jacket that he takes from the backseat. His jacket.

"Thanks," you murmur, taking the jacket and putting it on. It's warm. You remember the last time you saw him wearing it and resist the urge to close your eyes for a moment, inhaling his scent that still clings to the fabric. It's like a mix of laundry detergent, soap, and something uniquely Steve.

You feel a blush creep up your neck, and you look away, trying to focus on something else. Anything else.

He hasn't started the car yet, you notice. Perhaps  he's considering waiting to see if the weather will get a little better? It doesn't look that bad that it's not safe to drive, you think.

“Sorry for dragging you here for nothing,” you say, when it’s clear he’s not going to say anything.

“You didn’t drag me,” Steve assures you, sitting half to the side to look at you. "And what do you mean, for nothing? You wanted to look at the furniture, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but we didn't buy anything and now you're all wet."

He chuckles so quietly you almost don't hear. "I didn't come here to buy furniture."

You think about asking what he actually came for, but that would be a stupid question, wouldn't it? A hope of hearing something that he probably won't say. He came so you could buy what you wanted. He's a good friend like that.

Still, when you turn your head to look at him, there's something different in the way he's looking back at you. You smile, hoping to God he doesn't notice the nervous edge behind it, "What?"

Steve opens his mouth. He's pretty sure he didn't give those words permission to come out, and yet they come out anyway,  hoarse and low, "I really, really want to kiss you right now."

You watch his lips move as he speaks, but it's like your mind can't process the words. 

And once you do, you blink, not quite sure what to say to that. Your heart feels like it's trying to escape your chest, a wild thing thumping against your ribs. But there's something else in there too. Something warm. Something you haven't felt in a long time.

The front seats are close enough, so Steve reaches out, cupping your cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing across your lips. "I've wanted to for a while now," he whispers, leaning in closer.

You feel hot all over, the air in the car suddenly too thick to breathe. 

Steve's fingers trail down your cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of your bottom lip, teasing you. It's a slow, deliberate movement, as if he's memorizing every inch of your face, every second of this moment. "Do you want me to?" he whispers, and the teasing tone in his voice makes your stomach flip over. 

Your mind is spinning, but somehow you manage to force out the words, "Yes." You mean it. God, you mean it.

Steve's smile grows in that charming, lopsided way he has when he's happy. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as he leans in closer, closer…and then his lips are there, pressing softly against yours. Feather-light at first, like he's testing the waters, making sure this is what you want. But when you part your lips, letting him in, he deepens the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours in a slow, lazy rhythm, one of his hands coming up to cup the back of your head, holding you to him.

And then, all too soon, he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath. "Was that…was that okay?"

You smile, leaning as close to him as you can without jumping over the gearshift.

"It was more than okay."

[join my 3k followers celebration! ♥]

[purplecoffee13]

“Say you’re sorry.”*

Hey guys! I’ve been writing different parts of different series (new and current ones) but I’m still in the middle of all of them, so I wanted to upload this blurb in the meantime. I usually don’t add pictures to blurbs but this one was too perfect not to add, like… look at him. Anyways, hope you like it!!! xxx

Wc: 1.3k

Warnings: SMUT, degradation, lowkey exhibitionism, daddy kink, spanking (only once but still)

General Masterlist

Blurbs Masterlist

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

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, huh? Disobeying me, hanging up on me, driving me fucking crazy? Thought I'd taught you well... why are you being such a brat tonight?"

"Just wanted to have fun with my friends..." you protest, letting Harry drag you to his car. Your stomach bubbles in excitement, curious to see what he is going to do to you.

Tonight you had had a girls night with your two best friends, to celebrate the fact that you were all engaged or married. You had been friends since college and couldn't believe you had all come so far. However, a few hours and a bottle of wine later, you all realized: you hadn't gone out in a damn hot minute.

Naturally, the idea of going clubbing came to mind. You texted Harry, telling him you were spontaneously going clubbing, but wouldn't be home later than two (you two were flying to your mom the next day, so you didn’t want to be extremely unrested). He texted you back to go to Mercy—the club which he owned—because he had arranged VIP and a limitless tab for you there, and also reminded you to text him if you'd be home later than three so he wouldn't worry.

You agreed, and so you and your friends went to the club. However, time flew by and before you knew it was 3:30am and you were still dancing the night away. It wasn't long after that Harry showed up.

Your friends had agreed when he said he was going to take you home and let her rest a bit before getting on the flight tomorrow, and asked if they wanted to make use of the Uber he reserved for them. Since they both lived on the other side of town, he figured that would be most efficient.

It didn't take long before your friends were safely in the car paid for by Harry. Then, it was only the two of you, and your fiancé wasn't wasting any time.

"You told me you'd be home two hours ago. We have to be somewhere tomorrow." He tells you once he has escorted you back to the dark parking lot where his BMW stood between a bunch of other cars. He pulls you in between his car and another, and pushes you against the vehicle. His free hand slips under your dress and past your panties. You sigh when his fingers come in contact with your clit and start to rub.

"I lost track of time!" You whine, shutting your eyes at the pleasure of Harry's touch. A shriek leaves your mouth when Harry slaps your clit.

"I called you five fucking times, and you ignored me. You're a spoiled fucking brat." He growls in your ear, stimulating your clit further. You bite your lip, looking around to check if there is no one here. Your eyes land on a bouncer, standing in front of the back exit Harry just carried you out of. You gasp, worried that he sees you and maybe thinks the wrong thing. Harry is quick to catch on to your worries.

"Don't worry baby, he works for me, he won't think anything of it. I own that club, remember?" He says confidently, and you let out a moan. The tone of his voice has you hot and bothered for him. Your boyfriend can be so cocky, and it's so fucking hot.

"Shit… Oh my god!” you whine as your eyes roll into the back of your head. His assertiveness and stern tone had done something to you, and being a bit tipsy always made it easier for you to come, but this was extremely fast.

“You gonna come for me already? How pathetic…” Harry teases you, only increasing the speed of his fingers and positively letting you descend into heaven or wherever it is that these euphoric orgasms always seem to send you.

"Say you're sorry, baby. Say you're sorry and I'll let you come." He orders. You bite your lip, jaw slacked as you try to contain the amount of noises that threaten to leave your mouth.

"Sorry— oh f–fuck!" You squeeze your eyes shut at the feeling of his fingers rubbing harsher, interrupting your apology. "I'm sorry, daddy."

There was a part of Harry that wanted to snatch his fingers away from you and make you cry for an orgasm until your eyes were all puffy and red, and then fuck you for the rest of the night. But he knew that the flight of tomorrow was going to kill you if you didn't have at least a bit of sleep, so he cut you some slack this time.

"Alright, come on baby, come all over my fingers." His rough voice orders, and he has to slap his hand over your mouth to muffle the squeal that escapes you as your orgasm takes over your body.

There isn't much time to come down from anything, as Harry is quick to take away his hand and open the car door. You watch as he steps inside and backs up his seat, giving you enough space for what you know he wants to do. As expected, he pulls you into the car, and you climb on top of him as he closes the car door. With the car seat leaned further down, he lays down and silently observes you. The cocky raise of a brow that says 'go on' makes your cunt ache for him again, and you are quick to follow his silent orders.

You unbutton his pants and whip out his cock, mesmerized by it as always. Harry smirks at you, still delighted by how starry eyed you get over him. You line yourself up with your fiancé's cock and push him into you. A sigh of relief leaves Harry's mouth and it makes you even wetter than you thought you could be.

Nothing but heavy pants and the squelching sounds of you bouncing up and down in Harry's cock fill the car.

"Oh, daddy! You feel so good!" You whimper, attempting to increase your speed. Harry moans out at the impact with which you are impaling yourself on his dick, and his hands travel to your tits.

"Look at you, crying for my cock, like the little slut you are." He notes tauntingly. "Don't know how to apologize in any other way than bouncing yourself dumb on my cock, do you?"

"N– ah! Fuck!" You try to respond to him, but Harry thrusts up into you, and the feeling of him so deep inside of you renders you unable to speak. Tears flow down your cheeks at the intensity of his thrusts and you aren't sure how long you'll be able to hold yourself up.

"Aw, is it too much for you baby?" He asks, following his words with an extra hard thrust. You hold on to the seat beside you in order not to fall forward, moaning uncontrollably at Harry's devilishly dirty antics.

"S– so much daddy..." you manage to croak out, and a mean laugh escapes Harry's throat. Your shut eyes open for a second, knowing you will want to see the beast you've unleashed with disobeying Harry tonight.

"Well that's too bad baby, because I don't give a fuck. I'm gonna fuck you until I've had enough, and you're going to shut up and take it, understood?" He orders, and when you don't immediately respond with words, he slaps your ass.

"Fuck! Yes, yes, daddy! Anything, please, I'm sorry. I'll be so good for you..." you start blabbering, and the sound of Harry's low chuckle vibrates all the way to your core.

"Yes you will. Now, bounce on my cock sweetheart, I never told you to stop…”

[yanderestarangel]

꒰♡꒱─ 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓

TW: afab anatomy, dub con, dark themes, ftm reader, v!sex, sub!reader, stepson x stepfather, dilf!wesker, praise, smut.

─ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐫 - who always takes care of you, always sending you large amounts of money, regardless of what you ask for, he will give you his black card so you can spend it on whatever you want, he will just want his favorite stepson to a little kiss and spend some time with him... especially because you both know that he only married your mother to be close to you.

─ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐫 - who manipulates you to keep you away from your friends, he just wants you for himself! You're his sweet boy, so don't be surprised to see Wesker using his money and powers to keep you trapped at home, keeping you like a cute, cuddly doll that he can control and twirl around his fingers, like a beautiful marionette.

─ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐫 - who considers you his only weakness. Wesker would destroy the world for you, he would destroy everything he built throughout his life just to have the guarantee that you would stay by his side forever, regardless of the price it would cost - and when he completes, all his plans, you will live forever next to him, beautiful and molded perfectly by his hands, his pretty boy.

─ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐫 - who takes you to the most chic and private dinners, with businessmen from the 'umbrella corporation', introducing you as their precious stepson. He will pamper you with expensive suits that adorn your ass for him, getting possessive if any guy tries to flirt with you - he would probably pull you into some room or take you out of the building, throwing you on the expensive leather seat of his BMW, towering over you as he took his hard, throbbing cock out of his pants, while you could see his red iris glow behind the dark lenses of his glasses. "-Are you going to act like a brat and let others take what's mine? Are you really going to do that boy?" Wesker would growl angrily, as he ripped the fabric of your pants, exposing your pussy to him. "-Daddy will teach you a lesson... after all, bad boys don't get rewards."

─ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐫 - who fucks you with all your desires and dark fantasies, he loves to fuck you in the most expensive hotels and the best panoramic views of the city, making you doggy style and pounding your cunt from behind, while pulling the rope of a collar of diamonds you wore around your neck - obviously given by him "-I could fuck you like this all day..." Wesker grunts in response to your sweet moans, slapping your ass. His thrusts become stronger, bringing you closer to the edge of release. And just as you're about to fall, he slows down once again, prolonging your ecstasy, the buildup almost unbearable. "-Not yet, my dear," he whispers in her ear, his voice filled with wicked delight. "-You will come when I say so. Only when I give you permission, you can do this, right? Like the good boy you are to your daddy hm?" He begins to move, establishing a rhythm that exposes you to the fullness and power of his thrusts, filling you completely. "-Such a good boy, accepting me so well, squeeze those thighs and stick out that fucking ass more! Yes baby boy, exactly like that..."

─ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐫 - who fucks you all over the house, while praising you for handling his dick so well in your little cunt. "-Such a beautiful and cute pussy, just for daddy's cock isn't it?", "-atta boy, do you feel that, angel? it's all for you... take my cock like a good boy.", "- Fuck-! I love hearing you beg for more... I'm going to make you cum so hard, baby boy...", "-You better get used to this my little boy... Because from now on on. Your life will revolve around me... And I will always make sure you are satisfied, whatever the cost..." Your body responded to his touch, arching into him as pleasure washed over you. You could feel the tension in your body growing, your pussy clenching around his dick as you neared the edge of orgasm.

─ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐫 - who would lock you up in one of his mansions, in a beautiful golden cage, he would cut your ties with your mom... friends and even normal civilization, nothing exists beyond him now, you are just his, he will leave you just there , for him and for him. "-You will always be my doll boy... won't you?" Wesker would smile darkly, as he handed you the clothes he wanted you to wear. "-You'll never get rid of me... I'm your daddy forever... right my prince?"

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 ©𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 2023. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞.

[shuadotcom]

143 Miles (M)

💞Pairing: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

💞Summary: You and your boyfriend decide to change up your Valentine’s Day plans this year, so you plan a two-week getaway - or a “love vacation” as Seungcheol calls it. With each destination, you fall more and more in love with each other and it may just be your best Valentine’s Day yet.

💞Genres & AUs: Fluff, smut, established relationship au, road trip au

💞Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

💞Warnings: Profanity, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, pet names (baby, sweetheart, baby girl), big dick!Cheol

💞Words: 5k

💞Note: Here’s my fic for the Cupid For You Fic Exchange hosted by @svthub! Happy Valentine’s Day to my lovely valentine @gyuwoncheol !! 💘 I hope you enjoy my beloved Paula!!!!! 😘 ❤️

Thank you to my girlies @horanghater and @onlymingyus - Bambi for always coming in clutch as my beta and Mars for the beautiful banner!! 💕

“Okay, on the count of three,” Seungcheol declares once you’re both back in the car. “One…two…three!”

You reach into the bag in your lap and dramatically present the trinket to your boyfriend. He bursts into a fit of laughter upon seeing the small smiling frog donned in a cowboy hat resting in the palm of your hand. You quickly notice that he’s holding the same figurine. You join in with him, the two of you cackling in the front seat of the car together. You’re sure anyone walking would think the two of you look deranged, but neither pays that any mind.

“Well, guess this means we’re tied this round,” you manage when you finally collect yourselves.

“Yeah, but I’m still winning,” Seungcheol boasts, taking the frog from you and putting both away in the backseat.

“By one point!”

“A win is a win,” your boyfriend shrugs, grinning widely at you. You concede and start the car, somehow forgetting how competitive your boyfriend can be, even over something as silly as a game of who can buy the other the most ridiculous gas station souvenir. You’re on day three of your cross-country road trip and Seungcheol’s souvenir picks have been just a little sillier than yours. He’s simply lucky is all.

It was his idea to do something different this Valentine’s Day. You and Seungcheol have been together for almost five years and every year in February you’ve done the same thing when it comes to Valentine’s Day. You usually go out on a date somewhere, always a fancy romantic lunch or dinner, and then an activity such as a movie or a trip to the amusement park. Neither of you are ungrateful about the time you spend together, of course. You love one another and anything you do will be enjoyable if you’re together. Your dates are always full of nothing but shared love and admiration for each other. You love Valentine’s Day and celebrate it by spreading more love than usual to your boyfriend and he loves doing the same, but you both wanted to change it up this year, so when Seungcheol brought up going on a road trip, you wasted no time in agreeing.

Initially, you thought about driving from Seoul down to Mokpo, but that is only a 4-hour drive at most and didn’t feel like enough of a trip. That’s why Seungcheol brought up something that was once on his bucket list: fly to the US and then drive to the other side of it and back. He mentioned that it was something he’d always seen in American teen movies growing up and he always thought it looked fun and like a way to get even closer to the people you care about. And since you’re the person he’s closest to and cares about the most, he wouldn’t want to do this with anyone but you.

It didn’t take you much convincing either. You can never say no to a good road trip, so you both took time off work at the beginning of February, packed your suitcases, and booked a flight to New York. From there, you rented a car - a BMW to be exact, at your boyfriend’s insistence. (“It’s our love vacation! We have to drive in luxury!”) Then start your journey to Washington, planning to stop at as many states in between as you can.

You’ve finally made it into New Mexico with the end goal of getting to Las Vegas to stay for a night. Neither of you had many goals for where you would stay or what you’d do when you got to every state and are just winging it. It’s more fun that way.

Well, except when it comes to your souvenirs. You decide to stop at a gas station in each state for the wildest souvenir you can find after you unearth an Empire State Building-shaped mood ring right before you leave New York. It’s an extremely impractical shape and you demand that he put it on as soon as you leave.

Once you get back onto the highway Seungcheol fiddles with his phone, making sure his Bluetooth is connected.

The familiar first notes of  “Sugar We’re Going Down” by Fall Out Boy start and your mouth quirks up into a smile. Every time it’s your turn to drive on the trip, Seungcheol insists on playing the playlist of your favorite songs that he made for you. The gesture still makes you feel warm at how thoughtful he always is, even when it comes to the little things.

Drumming your fingertips on the steering wheel, you relax in your seat. Seungcheol turns the volume up and rolls down his window just a bit. The February air is a little crisp, but not too cold. As soon as Patrick starts belting over the speakers, you join in, singing the song word-for-word as you go. Other than talking and playing silly road games, a favorite of both of yours has been using the car as your karaoke room. 

Both of you have more than enough playlists to never run out of a soundtrack to your drive and you’re not shy about singing around one another. For the first few hours at the start of the drive, you had nearly gotten a sore throat from how serious you were at road trip karaoke. You were only missing a tambourine and the typical multi-colored karaoke laser lights.

The drive to Nevada will take nine hours, so you do half of that drive, and that whole time you and your boyfriend sing your hearts out on the way. Every once in a while, he reaches over to feed you a chocolate at your request for a snack. He makes sure that his finger grazes your lip or your teeth each time, chuckling when you nip at his digits or place tiny kisses on them. Little moments like this with Seungcheol make your heart even more full, which you didn’t think was possible, yet here you are - falling more and more in love with him each simple moment like this.

When Paramore comes on shuffle, Seungcheol goes all out during “Ain’t It Fun,” doing all of the ad-libs and being the guitar and the drums. At this point, you’ve made it more into town and hit a stoplight after passing nothing but dirt and rocks.

It gives you a chance to look at him, admiring the way his dark hair falls in his eyes - the eyes that turn into half moons when he smiles wide and laughs loudly. You can’t help but swoon over the giggle he lets out when he notices you watching him put on a solo concert, his dimple making its appearance and you want nothing more than to lean over and kiss it. And then kiss him on his lips that you know are so soft and warm and made perfectly to fit against yours like a puzzle piece.

So you do. You lean over the console quickly when he turns to you again and gives you a closed-mouth smile. Seungcheol lets out a noise of surprise, but gladly accepts the kiss, his hand reaching to cup your chin as your lips move slowly against his.

A honk from the car behind you makes you spring apart and then you remember where you are and see the green of the stoplight in front of you, indicating that you’ve got to focus on the road again. Seungcheol reaches over to take your hand as you start driving again, placing a kiss on the top of it, keeping it in his hold as you continue, both of you getting back to your playlist and the road ahead. You can’t help the way your heart swells and you almost don’t want this moment to end. You would travel around the world and back if it meant you could do it with Seungcheol.

When the sun sets on your journey, Seungcheol has always insisted that even if it’s not his turn, he’ll do the driving. He’s halfway through the state of Arizona when it gets darker and he’s behind the wheel. You didn’t stay in New Mexico long, only stopping to refuel and make sure to see what that gas station has to offer in the form of trinkets. Not much, as it turns out, but you manage to win this round of your game when you snag a keychain with an alien riding a donkey while all Seungcheol finds is a pen in the shape of a chili pepper with a mustache. He couldn’t not give you that point even if he tried to argue with you just a little about it.

Seungcheol hums along to his music, keeping it low enough not to disturb you while you try to sleep. He passes a mountain range, briefly admiring how the moonlight shines on the red rocks surrounding you. His attention quickly gets diverted to you when you turn in your seat to face him. You have the smallest pout on your lips and your eyebrows are scrunched up the tiniest bit. Cheol knows how hard it is for you to fall asleep in the car, but he still makes you try so you can get rest.

His eyes focus on the road, but he can’t help but steal glances at you and your cute expression. Not only does the moonlight bounce off of the nature around, but it also does the same to your face. It highlights your cheeks that he loves to pinch, your nose that he loves to boop, and your perfect lips that he loves to kiss. Your facial muscles relax when you seem to slip into a state of rest finally and the sight of your expression that he can only describe as angelic has his stomach doing flips. 

It’s been almost five years and every single day that he gets to look at you, he counts just how lucky he is to call you his. From the moment he met you, you occupied space in Seungcheol’s mind, and to this day, over everything else in his life that swirls around in his brain, he always comes back to you. Your face, your voice, your body, your everything. You are everything to him and he’ll tell you every single day for the rest of your lives.

“I love you, so much,” He whispers as one of your favorite songs plays through the car and you stir, just a little. 

Look at the stars, look how they shine for you. And everything you do.

A smile tugs at the corner of his as he glances your way again. The stars, the moon, the sun, all of it truly does shine for you and only you - his whole world.

When your phone’s calendar reads February 14th, you and Seungcheol finally make it to Las Vegas and you decide to treat yourselves to a fancier hotel. Instead of the usual 3-star hotels (and a few seedy motels) you stayed at along the trip, Seungcheol finds the nicest hotel that the two of you can afford. You even get so lucky as to somehow snag the honeymoon suite. “It is our love vacation after all,” being his reason yet again. 

You definitely don’t complain when you walk into the room and kick your shoes off, immediately taken aback at just how fancy and spotless everything in the room looks. The bed is the biggest you think you’ve ever seen and is covered in rose petals. The large window across the room overlooks the city of Las Vegas, the neon lights brightening up the room before you even turn the lights on. The furniture looks modern and clean and the room even smells fresh yet sweet. You can’t place the scent of the air freshener, but you love it nonetheless.

“Holy shit, this is the nicest hotel room I’ve ever been in!” You marvel, running and plopping onto the large bed. The bed is big enough for you to starfish comfortably on and you start making comforter angels, Seungcheol laughing as he flops next to you. 

“Only the best for my girl,” he hums, squeezing your socked feet, forcing a sigh out of you.

“Damn, I’m so sore.”

“Well if you’re interested, there’s a more comfortable place for your sore spots.”

You lift your head to look at Cheol and follow where his finger is pointing. There’s a half wall across the room made of decorative swirls of metal that you can see straight through. On the other side sits a large jacuzzi bathtub.

“Is that our tub?!” You spring up from the bed and rush over, eyes widening at the size. 

Seungcheol comes up behind you while you’re admiring, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you close. “That definitely looks like our very own giant, two-people-sized tub.”

“Looks like it has jets too.” Your hands rest atop his, fingers threading together.

“I think I even see some bubble bath on the counter over there.” Lips meet the back of your neck, your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation.

“Hmm, how about I get the bath going and you grab the bottle of champagne chilling in that bucket by the bed? Then we can order room service. I’d love some good sushi.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Seungcheol punctuates his sentence with a final light kiss on your neck. You have to quite literally peel yourself from him, but you manage it as the two of you split up.

It only takes a few minutes for him to grab the bottle along with the two glasses and for you to get the bath running. As soon as the water is warm and bubbly, you and Seungcheol shed your clothes on the floor as you each slip into the tub with you sitting between his legs. He manages to find the button that powers the tub, the jets hitting you at all sides, including your outstretched feet.

You relax into the water, tilting your head back, and resting on Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“I have some bad news for you, Cheol.”

“What is it?” 

“I think I must pass away here, just like this.”

Your boyfriend breathes out a laugh behind you, wrapping you in his arms again.

“You’re telling me you’d just up and leave me like that? And to stay with a bathtub no less!” You can hear the pout in Cheol’s voice and it makes you giggle.

“It’s nothing personal, baby, but I mean you can’t produce jet streams of soothing water.” 

“Hmmm. That may be true, but I can do this.”

Seungcheol’s fingers dance up the front of your body, gently cupping your breasts and squeezing. His fingers tweak your nipples in between gropes, making you let out a surprised moan. 

You practically melt into Seungcheol’s chest as he plays with your sensitive buds and your eyes flutter closed.

Soft moans fall from your lips as your head lolls to the side, Seungcheol using the opportunity to latch his lips to the side of your neck. His teeth scrape over your skin, nipping and biting along the way. 

Seungcheol has always loved to mark you. He loves leaving not only signs to others that you’re his, but every hickey and every bruise is a little reminder that he’s the one who makes you feel good and he’s the one that you always come home to at the end of the day. Not that you need a reminder because you’ll always come back to Seungcheol no matter what.

You count at least two reminders now, one on the side of your neck and another at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His fingers never leave your nipples, the stimulation already making you nothing but putty in his hands. If you weren’t in the tub you’re sure you’d be making a mess of whatever panties you would be wearing.

Your boyfriend trails kisses from your shoulder, up your neck, to your ear, and lands on your cheek, peppering your face with a few more kisses. His plush, slightly chapped lips kiss any spot he can reach as his hands trail down from your waist to your thighs. Seungcheol opens your legs wide and shifts you both around in the tub. The moment the jet across from your body hits your clit, you let out a shriek and Seungcheol knows he’s positioned you the way he wants to.

The tub jet feels like heaven coupled with Seungcheol’s relentless hands that are back on your tits, cupping and squeezing in the perfect way you need it.

“Ngh, Cheol!”

“Hmm? What is it, baby?”

“F-fuck. I need you.”

“You need me? But didn’t you say a little while ago that you wanted to stay with the tub since it has jets? Aren’t you enjoying the jets right now?” His tone is smug yet teasing, warm breath hitting your ear and making you shiver.

“Cheol, please!” you pout at him, doing your best to beg in between whines.

“Oh, so you do need me, huh?”

“Yes!”

“And what is it that you need, sweetheart?”

Seungcheol tugs at one of your nipples harshly, making you jolt. You feel so close to cumming already, but you do your best to hold off. You want to cum around Seungcheol’s cock or even his fingers - something, anything of his.

You voice this to your boyfriend, choking and stumbling over your words along the way. Seungcheol’s gaze is heavy as he peers down at you, enjoying how you squirm and wiggle in his hold. Your head is resting on his shoulder as you look up at him, batting your eyelashes and pouting extra hard. He loves it when he can see how needy you are for him and how much you want him. He especially loves all of the noises you make for him - the pants and the moans and the whispers of his name. 

He needs to hear more from your pretty lips, and he knows exactly how to do that.

With a smirk, one of Seungcheol’s hands releases your tit and trails between your legs. The tip of a finger taps against your clit, an embarrassing moan tumbling out of you in response. 

The thick digit slides into your eager pussy and it takes everything in you not to sob at the feeling. Seungcheol crooks his finger as he pistons his hand and the heel of his palm knocks against your clit each time. You practically dissolve into his hold while his other hand plays with your nipple, your brain already turning to mush at all of these sensations combined.

“Fuck, sweetheart, listen to you. You sound so fucking pretty.”

“C-Cheol…”

“God I love it when you say my name. I wanna hear it again,” Seungcheol slips another finger into you, and you yelp out his name again without even thinking about it. His pace quickens, fucking you with his fingers as quickly as the bubbly water around you will allow. 

“Yes! Please don’t stop, Cheol, please!”

“Mm, I won’t, baby. Want you to cum for me. Come on, pretty girl, let go for me.” Seungcheol’s voice is so deep that you practically feel it in the pit of your stomach. The pads of his fingers digging into your sweet spot, the jet from the tub still pelting your clit each time his hand moves, and his hard cock digging into your lower back are enough to have your world tilting and your orgasm knocking into you as soon as he tells you to let go. 

Your body stiffens as you cum, the shrill sound of his name that you let out sounds too loud in your ears, but Seungcheol eats it up. He curses under his breath, telling you another handful of times how pretty you sound and how beautiful you look falling apart for him. 

Seungcheol caresses your cheek and chin as you come down and when your breathing seems to steady, he tilts your face back and kisses you. His lips meld with yours, kissing you as if he’ll never get the chance again, making you even dizzier.

His tongue prods at the seam of your lips and when you let him in, he swallows up all of the desperate little sounds you puff out. He pulls back from your lips suddenly so he can help you turn around in his lap. The water in the tub sloshes as you get comfortable facing him and straddling his waist. 

Neither of you wants to waste any more time, the carnal desire to have Seungcheol inside of you is a mutual feeling.

The head of Seungcheol’s swollen cock prods at your sensitive folds, whimpers falling from your lips as you start to sink onto his length. His hands hold your hips as you lower until he’s completely sheathed between your wet walls. You and Seungcheol have had sex more times throughout your relationship than you think you can feasibly count, and each and every time the stretch is familiar but always succeeds in taking your breath away. 

“Shit, Cheol…”

“Feel good, baby? My fat cock stretching you out?” Seungcheol grunts between clenched teeth. 

“Yes, s-so good, Cheollie.” 

“You’re still so fucking tight, baby.” He winces when he feels your walls twitch, squeezing his dick and momentarily making him speechless. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

With Seungcheol’s grip tight on your hips, he helps you lift a little, letting his cock slip nearly all the way out before you slam back down and he’s shoved inside of you to the hilt. You share a groan as he helps you ride him, finding a steady rhythm. The water around you continues to splash, but he only moves you in his lap faster. 

Your head falls back as you alternate between bouncing on his cock and swiveling your hips, letting out curses and calls of his name. Seungcheol bucks his hips up to meet your movements, fucking up into you as much as he can in the slippery tub.

“Shit, you look so beautiful like this. You were made to take my cock, you know that, baby? This pussy was made for me.”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck!” His compliments only spur you on, your fingernails digging into the thick skin of his shoulders as you grind on him. Your thighs are starting to burn, but you ignore it. The feeling of your boyfriend’s girth driving up into you over and over makes you feel floaty, everything around you fading away. The only thing you feel and the only thing you know is Seungcheol and his hands on your moist skin, his lips sucking bruises onto your tits, and his dick kissing your g-spot with each harsh thrust.

Seungcheol knows your body better than anyone, so he knows when you’re going to cum. He notices the frantic cries, the way your body shakes, and that far-away look in your eyes.

“Gonna cum for me, beautiful?”

“Y-yes, fuck yes.”

“That’s right, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me. Can you do that?”

“Mmhmm! I’m so close, Cheollie!”

“I know, baby girl, I know,” Seungcheol moans against your chest, burying his head in between your tits as he drives his hips up so hard, you almost lose your balance. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “I’m close too, fuck - gonna fill you up. Can you handle that, baby girl?”

“A-always! I can a-always handle y-you, baby,” you gasp out, your stomach tightening and your body buzzing the closer you get.

Seungcheol keeps one arm around you while the other snakes in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit without even having to try. The stimulation shocks you and has you mumbling gibberish, a mix of your boyfriend’s name and pleading words. Your fingers slide up and into his dark locks, threading your fingers through the brunette strands and tugging, making him growl into your skin.

“Please, fuck, Cheol I’m gonna cum!” 

“I love you so much baby,” Seungcheol nearly explodes right on the spot with how your gummy walls clench around him again, but he manages to hold off. “Cum for me, sweetheart…” He nips at the side of your breast and applies more dizzying pressure to your clit.

“I l-love you too! I’m cum - fuck!” Your words are cut off with a scream as you tumble right over the edge, cumming harder than you did the first time, tears pricking the edge of your eyes.

Seungcheol lets go right after you, his face still in your chest as he holds you close, moaning out words of pleasure, love, and admiration about you and how you feel like “literal fucking heaven” and how you’re his and his only. Seungcheol pumps you full of him, his warm seed dripping from your throbbing pussy and mixing with the remaining bubbles around you. Somewhere in between his pussy-drunk babbles your ears pick up something about making you his wife.

You both stay where you are for a few minutes, your fingers lazily raking through his hair as he keeps you close to him, placing small, closed-mouth kisses on your hot skin.

“I love you so much,” he mumbles, letting out a sigh as his hand, still between your bodies, moves to rest on your thigh.

“I love you too, Cheol,” you sigh back, a drunken-post orgasm smile on your lips. Even through your haze, you didn’t forget what he said. “Did you…did you mean what you said?” you whisper out, hoping he knows what you’re referring to.

“Which part?” His question sounds calm, but you notice the way his fingers on your thigh press into your skin a little harder.

“The part about making me your wife?” A fraction of a second of silence hangs between you both and part of you starts to panic. What if he only meant it at the moment? You’ve had fleeting conversations about one day being married, but it was always lighthearted and more in a “one day we will” way.

When Seungcheol finally answers you, it’s in the form of a sigh. Wordlessly, he lifts you from his softening cock and untangles your limbs, sitting you down in the tub. 

“I didn’t want to do this now or like this, but I can’t hold it anymore. Especially not when you ask me and look at me like that.” He steps out of the tub, giving you another look before sticking his feet in his complimentary hotel slippers and shuffling into the main part of the room. 

You watch him rummage around in his suitcase before he comes back to the tub and kneels on the bath mat, facing you. You immediately spot the red velvet box in his hands and you gasp, tears immediately gathering in your eyes.

“I wanted to do this when we got to Washington and say some cheesy words about seeing the world with you and traveling everywhere with you for the rest of our lives, but I can’t wait any longer. Y/n Y/l/n, will you do me the honor of being my forever Valentine and be my wife?” The emerald stone of the ring shines back at you, surrounded by small diamonds on a gold band.

“Yes! Of course I will, Cheol!” you sob, tears blurring your vision as he plucks the ring from the box and slips it onto your finger, placing a kiss on your knuckle after it’s securely on. 

Seungcheol cups your face with both hands as he leans forward and kisses you. The kiss is soft and warm and you can just feel the love that Choi Seungcheol holds for you in his heart seep out. His love overtakes you, your heart feeling more full than you think it’s ever been.

“I love you so much, Y/n.” he sighs when he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours.

“I love you too, Seungcheol. So fucking much.”

Your boyfriend fiance smiles widely at you, his own eyes red-rimmed with potential tears as he scans your face. “I can’t wait to officially make you my wife. And you know, if you want, we are in Vegas so we could technically make it official tonight.”

With a sniffle, you shake your head. “Patience, my love. We can worry about all that wedding stuff when we get home. Let’s just focus on us and this, and right now.” 

He pouts dramatically before kissing your forehead. “Fine, I’ll wait.”

“Good boy,” you giggle, watching the way his eyes darken at your playful praise. “Now, how about we actually open that champagne and order room service? I’m still craving sushi badly.”

With a chuckle Seungcheol nods, standing as goes back into the room to look for the room service menu.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. We have all night to eat anything you want to order.” 

“Good, because if they have good pizza I want that later too. Oh! Or maybe kimchi jeon if they happen to have that!” Seungcheol chuckles at your enthusiasm as he comes back with the menu. 

Before you order, he helps you out of the tub when you complain about the water going cold. Dinner is put on hold again when you decide that a warm shower in the luxurious shower stall in the bathroom should come first before you get comfortable for the evening.

In between the warm water cascading over you and Seungcheol helping wash your back, you end up bent over the bench in the shower, Seungcheol slipping into your still-aching cunt again. 

As your fiance makes you cry out around him yet again, somewhere between the moans and grunts, you’re both able to whisper “I love you” and “Happy Valentine's Day” when you share another blissful orgasm. 

Tomorrow you’ll be back on the road and back to making the rounds for silly souvenirs, but tonight it’s all about you and Seungcheol and this moment right here. You can’t wait to have many, many more Valentine’s Days with the love of your life.

Permanent Taglist: @aaniag

Net Tags: @kflixnet @kbookshelf

[steveseddie]

outside looking in

for @steddie-week day one “secret relationship”

rated: t | cw: none | wc: 4,8k | tags: max’s pov, post vol. 4, 3+1 things, secret relationship, friendship, max & steve, max & eddie

click here to read on ao3

1.

Max is sitting on the front steps of her house, adjusting the wheels of her skateboard when the screen door of the Munson’s trailer swings open.

The noise it makes as it slams against the side of the trailer makes her jump. It’s only been a few weeks since Spring Break and she’s still on high alert after everything that happened.

Looking up from her skateboard, she expects to see Eddie or his uncle. She’s used to it- catching them on their way in or out of the trailer or sitting on the old ratty couch that they keep on the front porch. She’s used to waving at them and them waving back. Sometimes, if it’s Eddie, she’ll stick her middle finger out just to make him crow with laughter so loud she can hear it from across the gravel path. 

What Max doesn’t expect is to see someone else stumbling out of the Munson’s trailer. 

She certainly doesn’t expect to see Steve. 

It can’t be Steve, Max thinks. She remembers one of the doctors at the hospital telling her that her eyesight suffered some damage from being trapped in Vecna’s mind prison for too long and now she thinks that he must’ve been right. Maybe she does need glasses. 

But even if she squints her eyes, she still sees Steve. More importantly, she sees what Steve is wearing, and even from a distance despite whatever eyesight problems she might have, she can see that the clothes Steve is wearing aren’t his. Well, the jeans probably are, but the shirt is black and the logo plastered on the front is a big skull surrounded by flames, and while she can’t make out the words that are written in big bold letters, she’s willing to bet it’s the name of one of Eddie’s metal bands. Which would make that Eddie’s shirt.  

And it looks wrinkled, slept in.

Huh.

Jogging down the front steps, Steve makes his way to his BMW, parked out front and sticking out like a shiny sore thumb. Max is surprised she didn’t notice it sooner. 

She watches as he runs a hand through his hair, his messy hair- another sign pointing to the fact that Steve spent the night in Eddie’s trailer.

And the thing is Max didn’t even know they were friends. 

She’s seen them talk- or more like bicker when the party hangs out, but she had no idea that they sometimes hang out just the two or that they spend the night at each other’s places, or that they share clothes. 

She thinks she’s not supposed to know, based on the way Steve stops in his tracks with his hand frozen mid-air as he reaches for the car door handle when he spots Max across the road. 

His eyes go wide and his jaw drops a little, the dopey smile that was plastered on his face disappearing as he stands there, staring at her for several seconds. 

Max raises her hand in an awkward wave, which seems to snap him out of his reverie. He offers a small finger wiggle in return. 

Max doesn’t know how clearly he can see her. Just like her, Steve was advised by one of the doctors to wear glasses- his own eyesight showing signs of damage after the multiple concussions that he’s suffered over the years. And just like her, Steve didn’t listen.

Still, she raises an eyebrow at him while staring pointedly at the shirt he’s wearing.

And despite his own shitty eyesight, Steve must be able to see her face clearly enough because he ducks his head, realizes what Max is staring at, and his eyes widen even more. Then, without looking at her again, he hurriedly slides into the driver’s seat and starts the car, backing it up and driving it away.

Once the car disappears, Max jumps to her feet, and tucking her skateboard under her arm, she walks over to Eddie’s trailer. 

Her knuckles rap on the door and she hears movement behind it- the couch squeaking, a loud thud, and a heartfelt “son of a bitch!” coming from Eddie as he, most likely, trips over something.

Eddie starts talking before he opens the door enough to see Max, rubbing at his eyes. “Did you forget something, Stevie-” He pauses when he finally sees Max, whose eyebrows are knit together in a frown. Stevie? She’s only ever heard Eddie call Steve by his last name or by some mocking title before. “Oh. Hey Red, I thought- I thought you were someone else,” he tacks on with an awkward laugh, a hand hanging from his neck. 

Max studies him for a moment. He’s in boxers and a shirt that could very well be the same one that Steve was wearing, equally slept in. They both must’ve woken up recently- Eddie’s hair is even more of a mess than Steve’s was. 

“Who? Steve?” She asks, and Eddie makes a noncommittal sound. “Nah, he left already.” 

Eddie bites his lip. “You- you saw him?” 

“I was fixing my skateboard outside when he came out.” She narrows her eyes at him. “Wearing your shirt.”

“Um,” Eddie says dumbly, scratching the back of his neck. “He, uh, he spilled something on his shirt last night. If you ask me, it was an act of divine intervention, no one should own that many polo shirts.” He chuckles, but it sounds a little strained. 

“So he was here last night?” Max asks and Eddie grimaces, mentally face-palming himself.

“Um, yeah.” 

“Since when do you guys hang out?” She asks, raising an eyebrow.

Eddie shrugs. “Since we found ourselves as the only two adults in a group of children, I guess.” 

Max rolls her eyes. “We’re hardly children.”

“Sorry, teenagers,” he says with a smirk. “But you know, same shit. Sometimes it’s nice to hang out with someone your age who also understands, you know- everything that happened.”

“I guess,” Max concedes. Maybe in a universe without the Upside Down, Eddie and Steve never would’ve become friends, but it makes sense that they did. After everything they went through. 

Eddie reaches over and flicks Max’s forehead, sniggering when Max bats his hand away with a huff. “So, milady, is there a reason you visited me on this fine morning?” 

There isn’t. Truth is, she was curious and wanted to ask about Steve and she did that already, so she might as well just leave. But she also has nothing to do all day and she was hoping to practice with her skateboard anyway-

“Can you give me a ride to the skate park?” She asks and when Eddie glances down at himself and raises an eyebrow, Max scrunches up her nose and adds, “After you take a shower or something?”

Eddie snorts. “Yeah, sure. Come in, you can wait here while I get ready.” He steps to the side and sweeps his arm with a flourish.

“Nerd,” Max mutters but steps in any way, leaving her skateboard on the porch. 

“You can watch something or if you want to grab some breakfast, we have Cocoa Puffs and Honeycomb.” He scrunches up his nose. “But the milk might’ve gone bad, so. Careful with that.” 

Max snorts. “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass,” She says. She had breakfast at home anyway. 

“Suit yourself,” Eddie says, throwing some finger guns her way. “Be right back.” And then he disappears down the hallway.

Max has been inside the trailer a few times, but she’s never been left alone so naturally she decides to snoop around a little while she waits. There’s not a lot that she finds interesting- worn furniture, old newspapers, Eddie’s uncle’s mug collection and-

Steve’s polo shirt that somehow ended up on top of the TV like it was tossed haphazardly by someone. 

She picks it up and inspects it.

There’s not a single stain on it.  

And well, Eddie’s excuse sounded flimsy at best, but this is confirmation that it was actually a lie. It makes Max wonder why Eddie would lie about it. Friends can share clothes and if Steve spent the night it would make sense that he would borrow one of Eddie’s shirts-

But why would his shirt end up on top of the TV if that was the case? 

Before Max can answer her own question, she hears footsteps approaching. Putting the shirt back where it was for Eddie to find later, she makes herself seem busy by staring at the mugs lining up the walls just as Eddie appears. 

“Ready to go?” He asks, oblivious to Max finding the shirt and discovering he was lying about the stain. When she nods, Eddie gestures at the door with another flourish and a, “Ladies first.” 

Sending one last glance at Steve’s shirt, Max steps outside, still wondering what it could mean. 

2. 

Max doesn’t expect it to happen again, but just one week later she sees Steve leaving Eddie’s trailer again.

This time she doesn’t need to squint to notice there’s something off with Steve’s clothes. She’s on her way to Eddie’s trailer when Steve walks out and jogs down the steps, not paying attention to where he’s going, almost knocking Max over. 

“Dude!” She says, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Christ! Where did you come from?” He hisses, stumbling a few steps back, clutching at his chest. 

It makes Max’s eyes dart down to it and she raises an eyebrow. “Why is your shirt inside out?” 

Steve’s eyes nearly bulge out his face as he looks down and notices that his baby blue polo shirt is, in fact, inside out. 

“Uh.” 

Max can see him trying to come up with an explanation, she can almost hear the gears turning in his head, but he seems to be coming up blank. She narrows her eyes further. 

“There was- uh, there was a spider! It ended up caught under my shirt and I had to take it off to- to get it off me and I must’ve put it on the wrong way,” he stammers out with a strained laugh.

“A spider?” Max asks slowly, her eyebrow arched. 

“Uh-huh.” 

Max doesn’t buy it. Just like she didn’t buy Eddie’s excuse about Steve’s shirt having a stain. But since she doesn’t know the real reason why Steve was wearing Eddie’s shirt or why his own is inside out after leaving Eddie’s trailer, she doesn’t confront him about it, just filing the information for later. 

“Okay.” 

Steve awkwardly shuffles from one foot to the other for a second, eyeing his car like he wants to duck inside it and drive away from the trailer park and Max as fast as he can.

At that moment, the trailer door opens and they both whirl around to see Eddie lighting the cigarette dangling from his lips as he walks out. He freezes when he sees them, his eyes darting between the two.

“Oh, you’re still here,” he mumbles through the cigarette. “And so is Max, hey Red.” 

Max gives him a wave.

“What are you two talking about?” He asks, taking a drag from the cigarette.

“I was telling Steve that his shirt is inside out,” Max says, her lips twitching into a smirk. 

Eddie’s eyes widen the same way Steve’s did as he clocks in the inside-out shirt. “Right, that’s- that’s because, um.”

Max waits for him to come up with an excuse of his own, wondering if he’ll come up with the same one that Steve did. But before he can say anything else, Steve intervenes. “There was a spider, right, Eds?” 

Eds? Steve calls him Eds now?

Eddie claps his hands together and points a finger at Steve. “A spider! Right! Nasty little crawler!” 

Max rolls her eyes, wondering if they think she’s stupid. Idiots.

“Whatever.” She turns to Eddie. “My mom made lasagna and she told me to invite you over for lunch,” she says. That was the reason she came over in the first place.

Eddie grins around his cigarette. “Hell yeah, your mom’s lasagna is the shit.” 

Max turns to Steve. “You can come too if you want. She made plenty.” 

The corners of his mouth twitch up for a second before he frowns. “Crap, I’d love to but I have a shift in,” he pauses and glances down at his watch, “twenty minutes. Sorry.”

“Another time.”

“Definitely,” Steve says, ruffling Max’s hair and ducking out of the way before Max can punch his arm. “But for now, I gotta go!” He starts jogging towards his car.

“Don’t forget to fix your shirt!” Max calls and Steve makes a face as he opens the door. 

“And beware of spiders!” Eddie yells right before he climbs inside. Max still catches a glimpse of the fond smile teasing at Steve’s lips. 

When the car disappears, she turns to Eddie again. “You coming or what?”

“Well, when you ask so nicely,” Eddie says with a grin, walking down the steps. 

As soon as he’s within reach, Max snatches the cigarette from his lips and drops it on the ground, snuffing it out with her foot. 

“Hey!” 

“Smoking kills, you know?” She says, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“My dear Red,” Eddie says, throwing an arm over her shoulders as he steers them towards her house. “I defied death once, and I shall do it again!” He says in a silly voice. 

Max bites her lip around a smile. “Yeah, yeah, you can defy it where I don’t have to smell it. Come on, Mom’s waiting.” 

He withdraws his arm and jogs a few steps forward, crouching down in front of Max. “Hop on, milady.” 

Max rolls her eyes, but she grabs Eddie’s shoulders for balance and jumps on his back. Eddie laughs, hoists Max up by her legs, and yells, “Onwards!” before he starts running towards her house. 

Max can’t help but laugh along with him. 

3. 

The next time Max sees Steve outside Eddie’s trailer he’s not leaving but arriving instead. 

She’s sitting down on the porch with her Walkman, waiting for her mother to pick her up. She doesn’t just listen to Kate Bush these days, but she still keeps one of her tapes with her at all times. Right now, she’s listening to a mixtape Lucas made for her. 

It comes to an end just as Steve’s car rolls into the trailer park, stopping in front of Eddie’s trailer. 

As she rewinds the tape, she expects Steve to step out of the car and head inside, but he doesn’t. Eddie doesn’t come out of the trailer either. Steve just sits in his car with his hands on the steering wheel for seemingly no reason.

After ten minutes, he still hasn’t come out and since Max has nothing better to do until her mother gets here, she decides to walk over there to find out what’s going on with Steve. 

She opens the passenger door and slides into the seat without announcing herself, making Steve jump and hit his head with the roof of the car.

“Jesus Christ! Ouch! Fuck!” He glances at Max with wide crazy eyes. “Goddammit, Max, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” 

Max ignores the question in favor of asking one herself. “You’ve been sitting here for ten minutes, dude, what gives?” 

The hand that Steve is rubbing his head with stops abruptly. “Um.” 

“Well?” Max gives him an exasperated look. Her mom is going to be home any second and she would like to get an answer before she does.

Steve bites his lip, watching Max closely. “Can- Can I ask you something?” 

He seems nervous and that’s the only reason why Max lets him ignore her question. “Okay?” 

“You and Lucas-” he starts and Max raises an eyebrow. She wasn’t expecting Steve to ask about them. “You’re together again, right?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Did he- when he asked you to-” He waves his hand in a vague gesture. “You know- be his girlfriend, how did he- what did he do?” 

She bites down on the why? that’s at the tip of her tongue. “He gave me this. A mixtape,” she says, holding her Walkman for Steve to see. “And he- he just asked me. He said that after Vecna he didn’t want to waste any more time. He wanted to be with me.” 

Steve smiles softly. “Smart kid.” 

“It wasn’t terribly romantic but-” Max trails off with a shrug. She hadn’t cared about that. Vecna made her realize she wanted to be with Lucas too, and that’s all that mattered. 

“He probably knew you wouldn’t want a big romantic gesture,” Steve says and Max nods.

She narrows her eyes at him- at the way Steve bites his lip while glancing at Eddie’s trailer, thinking.

That’s when it clicks. The shared clothes, the inside-out shirt, Steve asking about her and Lucas, how nervous he is to go inside-

“Is that something Eddie would want? A big romantic gesture?” She asks and Steve snaps his head in her direction so fast she thinks she hears his neck crack. 

“What- what do you- how do you-” 

Max scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Dude, I saw you leaving Eddie’s trailer wearing his clothes and then with your shirt on inside out. And don’t give me that bullshit about the spider! You were obviously- you know.” She gestures vaguely but Steve gets it. His cheeks go pink which is enough confirmation. “And now you’re asking me about Lucas and how he asked me to be his girlfriend like- like you’re thinking about doing that so- is that it? Are you gonna ask Eddie?” 

Steve sighs heavily, slumping back against his seat. “Yeah, that’s- yeah. I want to ask him,” he admits, gripping the steering wheel. He glances at Max out of the corner of his eye. “Is that- is that okay?” 

Max snorts. “You know you don’t need my permission, right? But if you’re asking if I think you and Eddie being together is okay? Yeah, of course it is.” 

Steve relaxes slightly. “Thanks. I- we- this thing between us is new. We haven’t told anyone. Not that we had to tell you,” he chuckles. “Of course, you figured it out, but we haven’t, you know, made it official, but I want to. I just don’t know how.” 

“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of ladies’ man?” 

Steve lets out an undignified squawk. “I- that’s not- I mean I was, but my game kind of went downhill after high school and Eddie- he makes me nervous.”

“Is that why you’ve been freaking out here for ten minutes?”

A high-pitched laughter tumbles out of Steve’s lips. “Yeah, that’s- yeah.” 

Max rolls her eyes. “Steve, just tell Eddie how you feel! How you really feel.”

“Easier said than done, Mayfield.” 

She turns sideways in her seat to face him. “Look, Eddie likes you, that’s obvious, and you like him so just tell him that. Tell him that you want to be together. Officially.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair, blowing out a breath.

“And stop doing that!” Max chatises, slapping his hand away. “You don’t want to look like a bird built a nest in your head when you ask Eddie to be your boyfriend.”

He drops his hand to his lap. “No, I don’t,” He concedes. Then he takes a deep breath. “Yeah, okay, I’m doing this.”

Max waits for him to move and get out of the car, but he just sits there. “Dude, you’re still in the car-”

Steve throws his arms up. “I know! I know, I’m going!” 

And then finally, he gets out of the car. Max follows his lead, leaning her crossed arms on the roof to narrow her eyes at Steve. 

“Now you gotta walk over there-”

Steve groans. “Yeah, I know that. You,” he points at her with one finger while the other one settles on his hip, “you gotta scram. I’m not doing this in front of you.”

Max rolls her eyes. “Whatever. My mom will be here soon anyway.”

She starts walking back to her house but before she gets too far, Steve calls her name. She turns around with a raised eyebrow. 

Steve is smiling softly at her. “Thanks.”

Max smiles back. “Good luck!”

Her mom’s car appears then and she waves at Steve before running towards it. She gets in, and as her mom drives away, she sees Steve fix his hair one last time in the car window before finally walking towards the trailer. 

She faces forward in her seat, convinced that the next time she sees Steve leaving Eddie’s trailer, he’ll be doing it as Eddie’s boyfriend. 

+1. 

The next time he sees Steve, however, it’s not outside Eddie’s trailer, but rather inside it.

She’s sitting down at the Munson’s table, watching Eddie putter around the small kitchen as he cooks them pasta for dinner while she works on her History homework. 

Eddie has music on- loud, heavy metal music that Max rolled her eyes at when she walked in. But the truth is that she’s used to it by now and she prefers this to the silence back at her house when her mom is at work. 

Because of the loud music though they don’t hear the car that parks outside or the person that walks up the front steps. It’s only when the door flings open that both Max and Eddie jump and glance at it, both of them relaxing when Steve walks in carrying a six-pack.

“Honey, I’m home!” He announces, shrugging off his jacket. 

Max watches as Eddie’s eyes widen comically before darting between her and Steve, who still hasn’t noticed her. Steve must’ve forgotten to tell him that Max knows about them- probably too embarrassed to admit he asked a fifteen-year-old for advice on boys. 

“Uh, Stevie-” Eddie starts, but Steve, whose back is still turned towards them as he hangs his jacket on the coat rack, ignores him and keeps talking.

“It smells great in here, Eds! I’m starving. Robin ate the last of my sandwich at work and then she wouldn’t let me steal anything from the candy display. I thought we could order pizza, but thank God my boyfriend decided to surprise me with a home-cooked meal. Oh hey, Max.” He wiggles his fingers at Max, finally noticing her, and she waves back. 

Eddie’s jaw hangs open as he stares at Max. “Shit, I guess- I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” he chuckles, nervously tugging some of his hair in front of his face.

“Dude, the cat’s been out of the bag since I saw Steve leave in one of your shirts after spending the night here,” Max says with a snort. 

Eddie splutters. “What?”

She smirks. “Yeah. And that time Steve walked out with his shirt inside out? Did you really expect me to believe it was because of a spider?”

Steve’s face twists into a grimace. Eddie shrugs, hanging a hand from his neck. Yeah, they should be embarrassed about that one. 

“Also, who do you think was the one who gave Steve a pep talk before he asked you to be his boyfriend?” 

At that, Eddie’s head snaps towards Steve, whose cheeks have turned pink. “She- what?”

“Okay, it wasn’t a pep talk, come on! I was just- I was a little nervous!” 

“Aw baby,” Eddie says gleefully, leaning his elbows on the kitchen counter and resting his chin on his hands. “You were nervous?” 

Max sniggers. “He was. He sat in the car for like ten minutes.”

Steve squeaks. “Shut up!” He tells her. Then when Eddie coos, Steve points a menacing finger at him. “You shut up too!” 

Still giggling, Max watches as Eddie walks around the kitchen counter until he’s standing in front of Steve and cups both sides of his face while Steve pouts at him with his own hands resting on his hips. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I think it’s cute that you were nervous,” Eddie tells him before swooping in to give him a quick peck on the lips. “Even if you had no reason to be.”

Steve visibly melts, his hands falling from his hips like a puppet with his strings cut, his pout turning into a dopey smile.

Ew.

“If you guys start making out, I’ll leave. I swear,” Max announces, and both their heads snap in her direction, looking like they forgot she was there. 

Their cheeks turn pink, but while Steve does look a little embarrassed, Eddie looks pleased. 

“Apologies, my lady,” he says with a flourish. “Here, sweetheart, let me take this,” he tells Steve, grabbing the six-pack and walking around the counter to put it inside the fridge before going back to making dinner. Max finds the pet names very cheesy and gross too, but she doesn’t tease them about that. She has the feeling that this is the first time that they can act like a couple in front of someone from the party and she doesn’t want them to think they have to hold back- not unless it comes to kissing. 

Steve joins her on the table, twisting one of the chairs around and straddling it, resting his chin in his arms. “If I’d known you’d be here, I would’ve brought you something to drink too.” 

“That’s okay.” Max shrugs innocently. “I can have a beer.” 

From the kitchen, Eddie cackles, and Steve’s eyes turn into cartoon-like hearts as he glances at him for a second before turning back to Max and speaking in that bitchy tone of his. “Yeah, that’s a no. Nice try. Maybe in a couple of years.” 

Max rolls her eyes as hard as she can. 

“What are you working on?” Steve asks, glancing at her notebook. 

“History homework, I’m almost done.” Then she makes her voice a little louder so Eddie hears it when she says, “I would be done by now if Eddie didn’t listen to his music so loud it makes it hard to think!” 

“You know, Red, music is supposed to improve cognitive performance,” Eddie says in a snarky tone. 

“Yours isn’t music, it’s just noise.”

Steve sniggers and offers his hand for a fist bump that Max accepts. From the kitchen, Eddie sticks his tongue out at her. 

“Whatever, your homework is gonna have to wait anyway. Dinner’s ready.”

Max closes her book and her notebook and moves them both to the coffee table while Steve clears out some old mail and flips his chair forward again. Then he helps Eddie with one of the three pasta bowls and Max grabs a soda from the fridge and two beers for them, carrying it all to the table. 

Steve wasn’t lying when he said it smelled good. Max’s mouth waters the moment she sits down in front of her bowl, wasting no time before she digs in. 

They eat in silence for no more than two minutes which is how long it takes for Eddie to start telling them about his latest study session with Nancy through mouthfuls of pasta. Max scrunches her nose every time she catches a glimpse of Eddie’s half-chewed food, but the whole time, Steve watches him with a dopey smile. Halfway through his story, Steve reaches for one of Eddie’s hands, holding it over the table. Eddie stutters in the middle of complaining about Nancy not believing in breaks (“That woman is a machine! It doesn’t matter if she’s facing off against a dark wizard or an English final!”), his eyes darting to their joined hands and then to Max’s bored expression before relaxing and flipping his hand over so that their fingers intertwine.

They don’t let go for the rest of their dinner- not while the three of them bicker and tease each other or while Steve tells them about his shift at Family Video or while Max tells them about El coming to visit during summer. They don’t let go when Eddie lets Max have a sip of his beer and both he and Steve double over with laughter when she scrunches up her face and gags at the taste. 

They let go only when they move to the couch to watch a movie, but then they cuddle up to each other almost immediately. 

Max gags again, but it’s just for show. She doesn’t mind any of it- the pet names, the cuddling, the hand-holding. She’ll draw the line at seeing them kiss because gross but she’s happy to see them relax and act like this in front of her. Someday, they might tell the rest of the party, maybe even the rest of the world. 

For now, they seem happy to let her be the only one who knows. The only one who gets to see them like this. 

And Max, well, she’s happy too. 

[mentally-gone002]

kisses at the arcade

summary: reader and steve drive dustin to the arcade… and have some of their own fun.

a part 2 to the previous title-less fic that yall loved sm with henderson!reader x steve harrington 

you can find part 1 here, and part 3 here

a/n: so i sent the first part of this to my bestie and she was like “so when do i get a part 2??” and now here we are with a part 2! rlly it is all thanks to her, because not only did she help me make up my mind to make a part 2, but she also helped me completely construct every bit of this!!!! (did i mention she’s never watched ST???) she’s literally amazing so big thank you to my queeeeen!!!!

———————————————————————

dustin charged into the living room slightly out of breath, his ‘thinking cap’ baseball hat smushed over his unruly hair. “mom! can steve drive me to the arcade? mike, will, max and lucas are going.” he panted. 

his sister looked at him from her book while she sat on the couch at the mention of steve. she swallowed back a smile that he’d go out of his way to take her brother to the arcade. 

their mom cleared her throat before she answered. “you can go if your sister does, just to keep and eye on you.” 

dustin looked at his sister with pleading eyes. “please go, we’re gonna try and beat max’s records.” he said. 

“while max is there?” she asked, closing the book and placing it onto the coffee table gently. dustin nodded. “sure, i don’t wanna miss the look on your guys’ faces when she stays with her top score.” her words made dustin scoff while she walked off to her bedroom to grab a sweater and her bag. 

———————————————————————

when steve’s red bmw made its appearance onto their driveway, dustin raced out the front door and his sister followed behind him slowly. she shivered from the early december air that nipped at her cheeks and nose, so she picked up her pace. 

“your sisters got the front tonight, henderson!” she heard steve tell dustin, to which he replied with a groan that sounded like betrayal. she looked at dustin with a smile and stuck out her tongue. 

“real mature.” dustin rolled his eyes while he climbed into the backseat. 

she slipped into the passenger seat and flashed a bright smile at steve before he put the car into gear and began the drive to the arcade across town. 

it was a short drive but after some light conversation and a fair amount of bickering between dustin and steve it felt a bit longer. by the time steve pulled into the parking lot dustin was out of the car and racing towards the arcade. 

“wait until the car is in park next time!” his sister called from out the window before rolling it back up. she turned her face towards steve. “hi.” she smiled. 

“hey.” he smiled back at her, the corners of his eyes creasing in a way that made her heart beat faster. she didn’t know why. 

he reached a hand across the gap between them to connect his palm with the side of her face. she leans into the touch, shifting in her seat to get closer, reaching her own hand to connect with the side of his neck. 

he tried to contain his smile but what was the use if she’s there to create it? steve’s hand slowly drifts down her arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake, which she’d blame on the time of year if he asked, until his palm rested on her knee. the honey color in his irises were almost chased away from how his pupils were blown out. 

his gaze shifted between both of her eyes as he whispered, “you look beautiful tonight, you know that, right?”

she felt her face heat up at the compliment and her eyes shifted away from his for a brief second. “thank you.” her voice was a volume just above a whisper.

steve lifts his hand from her knee to hook his fingers beneath her chin, directing her face towards his. his tongue darts between his barely parted lips prior to leaning over the center console, gently connecting his lips with hers. the taste of her strawberry lipgloss made him smile. 

the sound of her heartbeat was in her ears, making it hard to think of anything other than him and the way his soft lips slowly danced against hers rhythmically. her fingers tangled in his soft chestnut hair while she pulled away to breathe, eyes still closed and her forehead to his. “we should go inside. the kids are probably wondering where we are.” she didn’t want to say this but she knew that keeping an eye on the kids was the best idea, considering that they’d still be paranoid due to the events from a month ago.

steve knew she was right but he was feeling greedy, only wanting her all to himself right now. “they’ll be okay without us, won’t they?” he wondered quietly as he reached for her hip, smoothing his thumb over the fabric of her clothes covering it. steve pulled her closer to him, being mindful of the console separating them. 

with labored breaths and a butterfly filled stomach she nodded, giving in to him. “what if they come out and see us?” she asked with a quick pull away from their proximity. her eyebrows were pinched together, creating a tiny wrinkle between them that steve wanted to smooth away with his thumb.

steve brings her back in and tilted his head to the side. “they won’t, baby, i promise.” he gave her a reassuring grin, making sure she mirrored it before once again connecting their lips together. 

———————————————————————

dustin angrily shifted the joystick and pressed the buttons of the arcade machine, trying to make more progress and wrack up the most points so that he’d finally beat max’s score on dig-dug. as he played, lucas, mike, will and max huddled around his back to watch the screen with nervous anticipation. 

“look out!” lucas exclaimed, pointing at an enemy just before it killed dustin’s character. 

the game made the animated sound signifying that he lost and dustin kicked the machine. “son of a bitch.” he sighed, shoving a hand into his coat pocket to try and pull more coins for another round; his pocket was empty. “anyone have any quarters i can barrow?” he asked the group. they all shook their heads, wanting to keep theirs for themselves. 

“ask your sister for some, i’m sure she’d have some.” will suggested with a smile. everyone else nodded in agreement, finding the idea a good one. 

dustin turned around, staring at the bench beside the front doors where both his sister and steve should have been. “hey, has anyone seen my sister or steve?” he looked back at the group. everyone turned their heads towards the bench at once. “they aren’t there, dumbasses, that’s why i’m asking.” he clarified. 

mike shrugged. “maybe they’re still outside?” he sounded bored at the fact they were trying to solve the mystery of dustin’s missing sister and steve harrington. 

dustin nodded. “probably.” he said before running towards the doors, dodging away from other kids. everyone followed on his heels all the way outside into the cold until they all stopped outside the red bmw which was still running. 

dustin reached for the passenger door handle without even looking inside, his only concern at that moment was quarters. “hey, do you have any- what the hell are you doing?” he exclaimed, stepping back with the door still ajar.

his sister and steve pulled away from each other’s lips in surprise, both staring at dustin’s wide eyes and disgusted expression first before noticing all his friends staring as well. steve shot dustin a nervous smile while she wiped the mixture of their saliva and her lipgloss away from her mouth.

“giving mouth to mouth.” max mumbled and caused the group snicker with laughter. 

dustin harshly nudged lucas, the closest to him, as a sign for him to shut up; lucas did after a small protest of how the shove hurt. “do you have any quarters? i spent mine already.” dustin reached for and snatched away his sisters bag off the floor beside her feet.

she stole it back from him. “hey! don’t dig through my things.” she said firmly, going for her wallet. “how many do you need?” her question made the group smile. 

dustin shrugged. “twenty for what i just witnessed.” he muttered. she shot him a glare. “i mean- just three dollars worth.” he reiterated with an innocent smile. 

she dug around for quarters and handed them all to dustin when she found the amount he wanted. the group took that as a sign to go back inside since they began to grumble about the cold. dustin tried to follow but his sister called him back.

“please don’t tell mom, okay?” she asked with pleading eyes. dustin nodded which made her sigh in relief. 

“you owe me though. and you,” he pointed at steve. “you owe me as well.” steve nodded in understanding which made dustin walk back towards the arcade, slamming the car door before he left. 

she looked back at him, bottom lip held between her teeth anxiously. steve frowned at her expression and leaned towards her. “hey, it’s okay.” his hand smoothed over her hair slowly, the curls bouncing back once his hand brushed them over. “maybe it is time to y’know… tell people?” he shrugged. his hand settled lightly on her shoulder. 

her teeth let go of her lip so she could speak. “yeah… i just wish he didn’t have to find out like that.” her concern had steve nodding with adamant agreement. she looked away from him in thought. 

he dropped his head to the side as his hand guided her face and eyes back to his. “it’s all gonna work out for us, okay? you don’t have to worry.” the kindness in his eyes made her feel more sure about the situation so she nodded in advance to leaning forward to press her lips against his again. she just wanted to be extra sure, and he kissed back with a gentle assurance.

it was going to work out for them. 

————————————————————————

to anyone wondering… yes there will be a part 3 and i’m working on it rtn!!! coming very soon yall

[2btheanswertothequestion]

(part 3 of November Paramedic; part 2 is here.)

When Gareth mentioned a plan to locate Eddie’s paramedic in shining armor, Eddie assumed it'd be him getting into various accidents all over Indianapolis. It's something the little shit would've found funny, okay! But, Gareth's plan is much less hazardous and slightly more logical: lurk around the university until they spot him. Like a pair of drug dealers trying to tempt the goody-two-shoes protagonist into addiction and sin on an 80s Saturday morning cartoon.

It's not the simplest task since they don't know when Steve might be there. Also, other responsibilities mean they can only spare so many hours loitering. So, thirteen days post-hatching plan and nineteen days post-meeting Steve (not that Eddie's been counting or anything), with nothing to show for their ethically questionable behavior, Eddie is ready to give up. Especially since both of them have a rare simultaneous day off. Usually, those are spent jamming, smoking, playing D&D… literally anything other than this.

"This is fucking stupid," he says, cigarette clenched between his teeth. "We're not gonna run into him."

"Sure we are," Gareth says. He drops his butt among the dozens they've chain-smoked and lights another without meeting Eddie's gaze. "We're getting closer. I can feel it."

"The only thing you're feeling is delusional. It's time to give up."

"Eddie, c'mon-"

"Nope." One last drag and Eddie stomps out his cig. "Fuck this; I'm out."

He stalks toward his van at the far end of the parking lot. Gareth curses before running after him.

"Dude!" he exclaims, jogging to keep up with Eddie's longer strides. "You can't just give up! What about what you said-"

"I was being stupid. What was I even imagining? We orchestrate another meeting and, what, I use my freakish wiles and seduce him? And then we'll live happily ever after…" Eddie shakes his head. "It doesn't work like that. He'd probably turn out to be a douche anyhow."

"No, listen!" Gareth seizes Eddie's arm and yanks him to a stop in the middle of the lot. "You always do this. Self-sabotage and cut things short, even when there's potential."

Eddie scoffs. "You know what else always happens? I end up liking them more than they like me. It's not fun."

"You don't know it'll be like that this time. You have to try."

"No."

Eddie takes a step back. He's done; he's out. Gareth reaches for his wrist to pull him back in. He jerks away, almost losing his footing and stumbling into the burgundy car behind him. Gareth's arms shoot out to help, but Eddie steadies himself before crashing. For a second, silence reigns as they assure everyone's on solid ground. Then Eddie opens his mouth to once and for all-

"Eddie? Gareth?"

Their heads snap to the side, eyes landing on… Max? Looking unusually dressy in high-waisted shorts and a fitted top under an oversized jacket, and her hair in a high ponytail. She's got her skateboard under her arm, a messenger bag with a textbook sticking out, and a confused furrow between her eyebrows.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

Fuck. They can't tell her the truth – she'll never let him live it down. Fortunately, Gareth realizes this too, because he says:

"Uh, I go to school here? What are you doing here? The math building is way over there."

She rolls her eyes and leans on the burgundy car. It's a shiny BMW M5 – the limited anniversary edition. Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie almost dented that thing! It's worth more than his life. And Max is slouching against it like it's nothing. He could warn her not to scratch it, but she's unlikely to care; she's always been metal that way.

"Waiting for my friends," she says. "We have dinner on Tuesdays."

Eddie's ears ignite. Dinner? With friends? While wearing what's basically a date outfit?

"Ooohhh…" he says, sharing a grin with Gareth. "And do these friends include someone special?"

She shrugs, looking anywhere but at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"C'mon, Red! You're killing me! I need to know if he's good enough for you."

His fingers hover over her ponytail, as if to tug at it. She slaps his hand away.

"You're annoying."

He laughs. This terrible day just became infinitely better. He won't rest until he gets what he wants – or until she punches him, which'll probably come first. He's about to tell her so when a voice calls her name. Both turn to look, and…

It's a boy Max's age. He's beaming and waving, quickening his steps toward her. She smiles too, almost shyly, as she waves back. It's the perfect opportunity for teasing, if Eddie's day hadn't just become infinitely better.

His tongue is heavy, his skin is itching, his heart is bruising his ribs from the inside. Sweat is gathering in his pits and it's getting a little hard to breathe. Because walking half a pace behind the boy, carrying a huge duffel with such ease it might actually be stuffed with feathers, is… is…

"Yesssss!" Gareth hisses next to him. He may also be fist-pumping. Eddie isn't looking.

"Hey!" The boy stops in front of Max. "Sorry, practice ran late."

"It's okay," she says, cooler than ice, though her eyes are glittering. "I just got here."

She says something else, or maybe the boy does? It's all background noise, because Steve has caught up. Steve, in jeans and a polo that must've been tailored to his exact measurements because oooooooooohhhh boy. Steve, unshouldering the bag, muscles shifting and straining under his shirt with the movement. Steve, smiling, his golden eyes flying over Eddie.

"Hey! Eddie and Gareth, right?"

Eddie draws a sharp breath. He remembers!

"Y-Yeah!" he squeaks, hands fluttering to either wave or shake hands, ultimately doing neither. "Hi! You're here!"

"I am," Steve says, casual, as if inane conversations with former patients happen on the regular.

(It better not – Eddie doesn't do well in competitive settings.)

Max, keen eyes darting between them, asks, "You know each other?"

"Met at work," Steve says. "Or, I was working and he…"

"Ah." Max taps her temple. "That."

"How do you know them?" the boy asks her.

She points at Eddie. "Neighbor. And that's the guy who dumpster dives outside our apartment building."

Gareth flips her off. Eddie would laugh, but he's busy pretending he doesn't know what Steve looks like shirtless. It's hard (pun slowly growing more relevant) – his gaze keeps dropping to the polo's undone top button. Steve is just as gorgeous out of uniform, and now Eddie's thighs are tingling with want. He could stare at him forever…

Unfortunately, 'forever' is cut short by a woman arriving in a flurry. Wait, no. 'Flurry' implies some sort of graceful whimsy, while this person… she's a hurricane crashing into a house.

"Sorry I'm late! Nielsen wouldn't stop talking and got angry when people started leaving because it's an important lecture so this girl called him out for not keeping time because he goes on all these tangents and he said they're interesting tidbits and she said it's disrespecting our time and-" She pauses for breath. "You don't care, do you?"

Max, Steve, and the boy shake their heads.

"Right. Sorry." The woman turns to Eddie and Gareth. "Hi! I'm Robin. And you are?"

"My neighbor and his friend. Steve treated his concussion," Max rattles off, glaring at them. "You didn't answer my question: why are you here?"

Gareth frowns. "I told you," he says, pointing at the building. "School." He points at himself. "Student."

Max glares harder. "You don't have class on Tuesdays. And Eddie doesn't go here at all."

"I had stuff I needed to drop off."

"Is tagging along a crime? Jesus."

Max doesn't reply, though her glare remains.

Robin hums. "Okay, so this is super-enjoyable, I love just standing around, but I'm starving, so…" She looks at Steve, who nods.

"Yeah, we're going," he says, but neither moves. He glances at Eddie, which makes her glance at Eddie, and then they make a series of eyebrow-movements at each other, ending in a shared smile. Steve asks, "Have you guys eaten yet?"

Eddie shakes his head, pulse racing. Is this going where he thinks it is?

"D'you wanna come with? There's this diner we like…"

Holyshityesitis!

"Yeah!" Fuck, too eager. "I mean, uh, sure, sounds good."

"Cool." Grinning, Steve clicks a remote car key; the burgundy BMW beeps. What the fuck? How high is a paramedic's salary?! "Did you drive here?"

"I, uh…" Eddie falters. Shit, wasn't he supposed to? It's been three weeks and he feels fine – he thought he was in the green!

"Nope! I did!" Gareth says, 'proving' it by hauling his house keys from his pocket and jingling them.

Steve nods. "Should be safe for you to drive again, but the less strain you put on your brain, the better. Even a mild concussion isn't anything to sneeze at."

"Y-Yeah, I've been taking it easy. Basically done nothing. Until now."

Max snorts. Eddie is going to pour coffee through her mail slot.

They decide Eddie and Gareth will follow Steve's car to the diner, since Steve can't fit all of them (the real reason he asked if they drove here, duh). It's good because Eddie gets the chance to panic/gush/collect himself in the privacy of his van. It's bad because Gareth drives, lest their fib be revealed. Gareth spends the ten-minute journey gloating about driving Eddie's beloved girl, interspersed with 'I told you so!'s.

The diner is cozy, all wooden furniture and sepia photographs on the walls. A graying waitress who smells like tobacco directs them to a booth and takes their orders. An awkward silence then falls as they wait for someone to speak.

The boy clears his throat. "My name is Lucas, by the way. I don't think I said." After shaking his hand and introducing themselves, Lucas says to Eddie, "I think Max has mentioned you."

"Oh yeah? I've been dying for her to mention y- Ow!"

Eddie rubs where Max kicked his shin. Her glare is murderous. Lucas is blushing happily, though.

"So, what d'you guys do?" Robin asks.

Right. Time to small-talk like adults. Eddie gets his job as a mechanic out of the way, then gives the word to Gareth, who tells them he's a creative writing major. Robin turns out to be getting a masters in linguistics and Lucas studies biology.

"I don't actually know what I want to do, but biology feels broad enough to give me options, y'know? I can go to med school, or forensics, or, I don't know, paleontology?" he says. Max glows brighter with every word that comes out of his mouth. Cute.

This then segues into talking about their friends, who by the sound of it lead incredibly interesting lives.

"Dustin's at MIT, Mike's at Oxford, Will's in San Francisco…" Lucas says, counting on his fingers.

Max interjects, "El's in Africa building houses and teaching kids English."

"Erica is still at home, finishing high school and drowning in early acceptance letters to, like, every Ivy League there is," Steve says with a look of pure pride.

"Nancy and Jonathan – they're our age – are chasing scoops in Afghanistan… " Robin says.

"... and Argyle is also in California," Lucas finishes.

Eddie whistles. "And here we are, still in Indianapolis."

"Dude, I'm surprised I got this far," Steve says. "Wouldn't've managed without her."

He jerks a thumb in Robin's direction, who preens at the acknowledgment. Robin's cool, Eddie decides. Garrulous but fun and nice… and verrrrrrrrry close to Steve. The kind of close where they're always in each other's space. Where they wordlessly transfer food between their plates. Where Steve unceremoniously wipes a speck of ketchup off Robin's chin after she repeatedly fails to get it. They're comfortable, but not necessarily romantically affectionate. Like they're siblings rather than lovers.

(Dear God, if you are in heaven, let them be siblings.)

Conversation flows. They joke around, tell stories, swap opinions. Robin gets passionate about tonal shifts when stage shows are adapted to film, and Eddie tries not to stare at Steve's mouth as he eats. And then, once their plates are cleaned and they're waiting for dessert, Gareth leans his elbows on the table and fixes Steve with a purposeful look.

"I figured out where I've seen you before."

Eddie stiffens.

Steve blinks. "At campus, right?"

"Thought so, but no. I realized it's actually…" Gareth chuckles. "It's ridiculous, but uh, my mom had this calendar…"

Steve recoils, red flooding his face. Robin, Lucas, and Max shriek in delight, Robin grabbing Steve's arm and shaking it as he hides behind his hands.

"And my mom," Gareth says between bursts of laughter, "she's shameless, all right? She kept it in our kitchen. So during, what was it, November?"

"November," Steve confirms, muffled.

"For 30 days, if I wanted to check the date or make a notation… I saw you."

Tears stream down Robin's face, she's laughing so hard. She and Max have started chanting 'Slut! Slut! Slut!' at the still crimson Steve.

"You don't understand," Lucas says, gesturing for emphasis. "We've been waiting for someone to come up and say 'hey, weren't you…?' for years. Thank you so much!"

"Hey, thank my mom," Gareth says. Eddie's quite stunned he'd throw his own mother under the bus like that. She's a really nice person, too!

"Makes sense," Max says. "Moms love Steve."

"All parents do," Lucas says.

Cackling, Robin pinches Steve's cheek. "Gotta hide your mom and your dad around Steve!"

Steve bats her off, flushed but smiling. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You got your wish, now shut it."

That only makes the three restart the chant to ridicule him for his harlotry. Steve's indignant squawk that 'it was for charity!' merely has everyone laugh more.

And Eddie? Well. As he sits beholding this man who works as a paramedic and drives a luxury car, who models for charity and allows his friends to mock him for it, who blushes and giggles when they lovingly call him a whore…

All Eddie can think is that he's in fucking trouble.

Afterward, it only makes sense for Eddie to drive Max home. Steve shakes his hand outside the diner, saying it was nice to see him again. Eddie, not knowing how to ask for Steve's contact info without seeming weird, agrees. He waits until the BMW drives off, then tells Gareth to get the fuck out of his seat. Gareth relocates to the backseat, whining since Max already called shotgun.

The initial minutes, they're quiet. Then Max turns to Gareth and says:

"When were you telling me Eddie is your mom?"

"Huh?"

"You said you knew about the calendar because of your mom. But that's not true."

The warmth drains from Eddie's face; his knuckles crack around the steering wheel. Gareth's expression is the epitome of 'oh shit' when he meets Eddie's gaze in the rear-view mirror.

"Yes, it is," Gareth says.

"It's not," Max says.

"It is!"

"It's not! The calendar was for 2021, and in November '21 you were a freshman and had already moved into the dorms! If your mom kept it in her kitchen, you wouldn't have seen it!"

She scowls at Gareth, mouth pinched and eyes flashing, daring him to contradict her.

Gareth swallows thickly. "It… wasn't for 2021."

"Yes, it was."

"How do you know?"

She puts her hands in her lap and lifts her chin, almost primly. Eddie gasps as the penny drops.

Gareth screams, "WHAT!"

"You have it?" Eddie cries. "Why do you have it?"

She scoffs. "You know why – you've seen his pecs."

"I don't- Okay, how're you so sure it's me?"

"Because you spent all of dinner looking like you wanted to crawl inside his mouth and live there." Her nose wrinkles. "At least I hope it was his mouth you want to crawl into-"

She's cut off by Gareth shouting "I can't hear you! Lalalalalalala-"

Eddie crumples in his seat. He's depleted of blood, air, life, everything. Behind, Gareth is grilling Max for information: are Steve and Robin together? Is Steve single? Is he queer?

Max replies: no, yes, and 'that's not for me to tell, moron'.

Gareth nods, satisfied. "That means he is. If he was straight, you'd say so." He slaps Eddie's arm. "You got a shot, man!"

"You… don't know that…" Eddie wheezes.

Max tuts, shaking her head. "You actually want to hit on my chauffeur."

"He prefers the term 'seduce'," Gareth says.

Eddie smacks his face into the steering wheel at the next red light.

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

Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @olivethenerd16, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll,

I won't be adding more to the tag list because there are already so many of you. Instead, I'll be tagging the four remaining parts (it'll definitely be seven in total, btw) as #steddie fic: november paramedic. Hopefully, they'll show up in the tags and you'll see them that way.

Thank you for reading 🖤

Part 4

[trashmouth-richie]

𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: escaping Hawkins was impossible, but he did it. when a ghost from your past shows up unexpectedly, bringing with him old memories and holding up a mirror to the train wreck life you’re living… you find it hard to trust him again.

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ no minors, depictions of poverty, child neglect/ endangerment, drug use/abuse, alcohol use/abuse, endangerment, 18+ sex working, 18+stripping, violence, smut. no use of y/n reader has a name that’s introduced in the first chapter, and another “nickname” that is lightly used throughout this series. eddie also has a nickname given by reader.

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: this series switches pov’s between reader and eddie, thank you to @succubusmunson @joejoequinnquinn @choke-me-eddie @sweetsweetjellybean for helping me read through the first chapter, helped me brainstorm etc i love you

there are two easter eggs in this let me know if you catch em! like pokémon only not

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞: here i come, but i ain’t the same

masterlist

Stupid fucking bitch.

One dial tone waned into another, a monotonous wave taunting you from the end of the receiver. Your fingers tap impatiently against the counter. How long could a phone actually ring before it stopped or someone finally answered?

Too damn long apparently. 

Giving up and counting your losses, you slam the receiver back on the wall, muttering more choice words as you skirt your hips behind the wooden bar, thumbing through the blue lined notebook schedule.   

Work was packed. More-so than any other Friday night, but since it was the beginning of graduation weekend for Hawkins High— every Sam, Dick, and Harry had wandered into the bar looking for a cheap escape and a sugary drink. 

Lucky for them, that was exactly what Queen of Hearts had on the menu. And if you talked to the right person, the luck didn’t stop there. 

“No answer?” Jolene called over her shoulder, hands full with a bottle of Jack Daniels. 

Scribbling an angry dark mark through the name Ginger on the schedule, you toss the notebook back into the drawer shutting it with your hip.

“Just rang and rang,”  you say, annoyingly jumping in to help her finish pouring three Jack & Cokes. The soda fizzes under your thumb, “and before you try to cover for her, this is the fourth time she’s done this.” 

She lets out an exaggerated sigh, taking the cans from you and tossing them into the trash.

“Really thought this one would work out,” her long legs cross behind you to slot the liquor bottle back in its designated spot, “she had kids.. poor thing needed the cash.” 

The familiar ache of neglect radiated through you, “I found a babysitter for the nights she was working, told her I’d help pay… that asshole she keeps around probably found out she was working here.” 

Jolene raises her eyebrows. Her slender fingers hold the three drinks with ease, setting them on a tray.

“Can’t believe Jackie skipped town with that rich salesman,” she sighs heavily, leaning an elbow on the sticky bar, “lucky girl, something like that would never happen to me.” 

Jealousy pings in your chest but you shake it off, “he was really dreamy huh? Those beauty marks? His hair? His ass?” You wolf whistle, “cut me a slice.” 

You weren’t jealous that Jackie was now probably driving a BMW, that her life would be nothing but luxurious from here on out, or even that her boyfriend was movie star hot. 

What made your blood boil over was the fact that she got out, and you were still stuck here like hardened gum underneath a table. 

The club was a part of you. Like an unwanted birthmark, this lifestyle was something you couldn’t get away from. Understanding at a young age, when most girls were playing with dolls, just exactly the kind of life you were destined to live, and unfortunately it wasn’t outside of these four walls.

“Your time will come,” Jolene smiled, looking into a compact and wiping a smudge of lipstick from her teeth, “you’re still young, Miss Assistant.” 

You rolled your eyes, placing the tray on her awaiting palm. Since Jackie was gone, her job was now yours.  Tacking on added responsibilities with no pay raise in sight. You found out all too soon what a fucking joke that title of ‘assistant’ actually was. 

“Told him I didn’t want it, but you know how that went.” 

“I do kid,” she sighs, looking down at you, her eyes sweeping over the still pink scar in your eyebrow, “I really… oh honey, you’re gonna be a busy little bee tonight!” 

You breathe heavily through your nose, dragging your hands down your face, “don’t remind me.” 

“I’ll help out wherever, ‘kay?” 

Jolene had taken you under her wing when you first walked into Queen of Hearts. Freshly eighteen almost down to the hour, naive waters brimming your eyes, forced into this life. 

Her motherly ways comforted everyone, only thirty-three but in this industry that was practically ninety. Just like you, Jolene had deep roots in this place. 

Her tall frame slinks over to the waiting guys sitting at the stage, a pleasant smile on her lips. Twirling the ends of her black hair twisted into schoolgirl pigtails, laying the charm on thick. 

Staring over at her in a forlorn gaze, you hated to think of yourself still here ten years from now, a permanent fixture to this place, like Jolene. The lemons of life were squeezed and you had made the lemonade, but it was sour, bitter.. you longed for something sweeter. 

The bubbly fantasy is popped when Mickey Fritz’ oversized hand hits the counter like he’s a toddler in a highchair.

“Hey sugar tits, I’m empty o’er here!”

Your nightmare reality comes back into view. 

The walls at Queen of Hearts were draped in deep shades of red velour, a cozy ambiance to invite strangers and locals alike. The bar was backlit and stocked with a decent selection of polished bottles of whiskey, gin and bourbon. 

His boots clapped along the wood floor as the pair walked further inside, leaving a plume of smoke in their wake, catching on the neon lights and creating a smoked crimson haze across the dark club.

The raised stage was centered, creating an aisle on either side of it, clad with leather backed red chairs surrounding it at every angle. For a night club in the middle of Indiana, it wasn’t half bad compared to the places he was used to out East. 

A row of booths were tucked onto the left side of the club, high top tables stood crowded with drunk college students, yelling loudly and making asses of themselves to impress the working girls. 

The music blaring over the speakers was a little cliche and too “pop” for his liking—fuck, had he really turned into one of those guys, questioning what a strip club was playing for music? 

He rolls his eyes at his own false pretentiousness, turning it into a wink at a cocktail waitress carrying a tray full of plastic flutes filled with a gut rot of pink liqueur. The gold thong she was wearing sat high on her hips, matching the cheap glittery cowboy hat on her blonde curls. 

Dark eyes follow her long legs to a nearby table, a fist to his mouth as he whistles and licks his chomps.

“Damn! Can you believe this used to be the Hideout?” Jeff squawked, not so casually adjusting himself as they slid into an open booth, “that was Gareth Emerson’s twin sister, she really grew up huh, remember him?”

He didn’t.

Much like anyone else Jeff had tried to bring up since he had agreed to meet up for a drink on the occasion that they were both home, he hadn’t given high school a second thought since the night he left. 

“Nah, man,” he said, grabbing for the sticky menu on the black table top, “I don’t.”

It had been years since he had seen Jeff, and he was surprised that he had recognized him at the gas station last night when he was filling up his motorcycle. 

His own appearance hadn’t changed much, dressed a little better, wore cologne now, normal shit that came along with getting out of puberty. 

Back then Jeff still had braces, a small lisp when he got really drunk. Now, he was a grown man. Living in Phoenix with a big important job at some company, home for the weekend to visit his parents, and watch his youngest brother graduate.

There would be no visiting family or old friends for him on this trip back to Hawkins. The thought of running into anyone he knew and having that painfully awkward small talk about the ‘good old days as a Tiger!’ made him cringe, as if that ever were the case for him. 

Having left this shit hole in the middle of the night seven years ago, he took nothing with him but some saved cash, his guitar, a full tank of gas and the clothes on his back. 

The heavy ache in his chest, brim filled with remorse, was an added carry on, something that didn’t go away with the miles he had put between him and Hawkins. 

He had planned to keep this town in the rearview, but life, probably karma, had other plans. 

Back in Hawkins strictly on “business,” that's what he told Jeff when the smiley old friend grabbed him into a bear hug in the checkout line, crushing the chips he was carrying to a powder in its aluminum bag. 

Technically, it was family business. But he hadn’t mentioned that to Jeff. He didn’t want the questions, didn’t want the pity.

He barely even knew his uncle that well anyway, but being the only living relative of the deceased, he didn’t have a choice when the call came through that he had passed. 

A week. That was the timeframe he told his job that he’d be gone for. Leaving just enough time to plan the funeral, and sell the trailer. 

Coming home to the haunting shadows of Hawkins was like playing in a graveyard filled with demons of his past. Sorrow filled every dark corner, looming around him like a fog, making him unable to forget the damage left behind. 

For years it had worked out fine, he had moved on. But every now and then, he had to push his inner demons down, and still to this day, years after the fact, they kept trying to crawl back up. The shame of his past coming to the forefront.

The music changes to another upbeat song that was popular on the radio, Jeff nods along to the beat, strumming his fingers against his belly like he was playing the guitar. 

He looked over at his old highschool friend and smiled for the first time since being back here, “still play?”

Jeff stretched a wide grin across his face, chuckling a little too loud, “only in my dreams… working seventy-hour weeks doesn’t really allow me to have that kinda freedom.” He nodded and smiled a little at the waitress who was coming to take their drink orders, “so what have you been up to man? It’s been years!”

He knew all too well about not having free time to spend the way he had wanted to. He didn’t even own a guitar anymore. The last time he saw his Warlock, it was sitting in a pawn shop in Nashville— the last of his many possessions sold to make ends meet. 

Ordering a beer, he counts his budget for this trip in his head, deciding to buy Jeff’s drink too. Maybe being back wouldn’t be so bad after a drink or two, a little liquid courage to get him through the night at least.

The pleather seat creaks beneath his weight when he leans back further into the booth, stretching his arms out wide. Trying to gain a sliver of comfort since being home. 

Working the pole to Ginger’s song of choice, Once Bitten, Twice Shy, you found it hard to get into music you could care less about. But you didn’t have time to complain. 

Legs crossed and spinning upside down, bare besides a face full of makeup and a red thong, you pretended that you were anywhere else but there. 

How nice it would be to not have to crawl across dirty dollar bills, teasing a faceless man with your body so that he would be eager enough to slip a twenty into your g-string.

Collecting your tips from your set, you tap them against your vanity in the dressing room, counting out loud your mind already knowing how much money will be put away after bills are paid. 

The long jagged crack in your mirror served as the only looking glass you liked to look in. The warped shapes of your face looking back at you made it easier to swallow the life you were living, as if it were a fever dream, a disturbed Alice in Wonderland type reality. 

In the mirror you weren’t a dancer at Queen of Hearts. You could be a nurse, a librarian, a cook in a shitty home town restaurant who went home smelling like grease instead of men’s cologne and wearing suspicious stains. 

It could be easy, simple really. Bus tickets weren’t terribly expensive. Going to any city, a map in your hand and the saved coffee can of cash tucked into your purse. You could almost imagine the taste of the ocean. The thought of even stepping outside of Indiana was enough to power you for the rest of the night. 

As easily as the daydream came it fluttered away when the boss stepped into the dressing room. 

His eyes loomed in a dead stare, sweat pooling on his temples. The ice in his glass shifted as it melted into the whiskey. A Colombian cigar tucked into his fat mouth had an inch long ash waiting to fall. 

He wasn’t much taller than you, barely older, but his attitude and small dick made him seem eight feet tall. 

“The hell are you doing in here? Fucking Christ woman, the girls are drowning out there, those needle dick college fucks are about to swing fists and you’re in here staring at yourself?”

“Just takin’ a little break Tommy, I gotta change.” 

“I don’t need any lip from you, better watch it before I match that other scar y’ hear me?” 

His threats didn’t scare you, it was who he answered to that made you terrified. A bad report to the big boss and you’d be drinking your meals through a straw. You knew because it’s already happened. Turns out you don’t need your mouth to swing around a pole. 

“Loud and clear.” 

This type of life was the only one you had ever known. You quite literally grew up with this environment right under your nose, and everyone at the club knew it. 

The romance novels you kept in your purse were full of knights in shining armor type of men, another fallacy to your looking glass. 

The thought of anything else was only real in your daydreams. Escaping the festering wound of Hawkins was impossible, almost unheard of. No one with your background got out. 

But he did.

Shoulder to shoulder, squeezing in sideways with grimy singles fisted in their hands, the club was stuffed to the hilt with sweaty, drunk, and extremely horny men. 

“… here!” you slam two more drinks onto the heaping tray and shove it into Wendy’s hands, “take this to those asshats and tell them we are out of triple sec, no more Long Island Ice Teas, if they want a drink they can order beer like everyone else.”

Wendy swung her hips with the Long Islands in tow over  to soften the hearts of the college boys. Batting her lashes, sitting topless on their laps and letting them tell her stories of the parties they went to, the classes they skipped and the girls they fucked. Anything to keep them from hollering and starting a fight with the locals. 

Lisa Ann was working over the business men from out of town, their briefcases shining with a matte patent leather, expensive watches adorning their wrists. Her pretty Marilyn Monroe smile on display as she brought over their drinks, tussling their hair between her pink fingernails, putty at her fingertips.  

Between the rest of you rotating between pouring drinks, collecting payments and trying to wiggle past the grabby hands of Donny, the roar of the busy hour had started to lull. 

All of you were tired and crabby, legs cramping and toes pinched in uncomfortable shoes. Jolene wiped her brow and blew out a deep breath. 

“Take fifteen,” you said to her, “I got it from here.” 

She shot you a wink and disappeared into the dressing room. 

Peeling the soles of your boots from the floor you lean your back against the shelf of liquor bottles. Working your hands on the base of your neck behind your head.

The usual crink that ached when you were stressed was flaring up again. Causing your shoulders to tense up and sending a pinched dull ache from your back up to your throbbing temples. Radiating your jaw, with a heat so fierce it could melt glass and it wasn’t even eleven o’ clock yet. 

Your eyes are pressed closed in a tight squeeze, maybe you could shut the pain out by pretending it wasn’t there.

“Tiffs just about done in room D,” Veronica chirped, her bracelets jingling in a metallic tune, “the ‘doctor’ again,” she explains with air quotes chuckling to herself.

“He’s only here on nights she’s workin’” you say exhaustedly,  “she’s his favorite.” 

Being one of the few regulars that wasn’t married, he was somehow the slimiest worm in the dirt. Tall and slender framed with icy white hair, he seemed to stare down his nose at the girls, his voice an eerily calm when he asked for Tiff, handing over the crisp fifties to secure her for the allotted amount of time. 

Beads click together as she stumbles in from the back, adjusting her lipstick and holding the ripped strap of her bra, followed behind her like clockwork was the doctor, tucking his oxford shirt into his slacks. 

Your jaw felt like it was going to ignite, as if it were covered in tension rods and the gears were  cranking it tighter and tighter, sweat beginning to form on your back, “can you hand me my purse?” 

Rustling your bag from underneath the bar, Veronica hands over the canvas tote, her emerald eyes staring at you expectantly like a serpent watching its prey, “care to share those little party favors?” 

Rolling your eyes, you move your hand through the contents inside. Pushing past a checkbook, lipsticks, and the papered corner of a tampon. Finally your fingers close around the smooth unlabeled bottle. 

Two tablets land in your palm when you pop the cap, and you shake it begrudgingly to release another tablet from the bottle for Veronica.

She giggles and grabs two shot glasses, pouring bourbon into them both. 

“Only one,” you instruct, a serious look in your eyes, “I’m not picking you up from the floor later.” 

A coy little smile on her lips, she brings the shot glasses over, handing one to you, “you worry too much.” 

Placing the pill in her free palm, you clink the glasses together in a little cheer. 

“To us,” Veronica grins, “may our titties stay perky, our asses juicy, the boys pockets fat and our kitties not loosey.” 

You roll your eyes and she laughs, her lips close around the glass the same as yours, and you swallow down the liquor, wincing at the taste. 

Within fifteen minutes the temporary high coats your brain like a warm blanket, floating you to a place far away from shiny poles, 6 inch heels, and ass slaps, away from Hawkins. 

Jeff listens intently as he explains a very bland and watered down version of how he left Hawkins and traveled east, working odd jobs. 

Skipping the part about how he lied about his age to find work, and how he spent an entire month getting his ass kicked after dishwashing shifts at some swanky restaurant outside of Raleigh. 

He explained the good stuff, how he worked part time at a tattoo shop for one of his buddies he met in Philly. His full time gig being a lead shift at a factory. 

It wasn’t that impressive, he knew that, but he couldn’t make himself give a shit what anyone thought of him. For only being twenty-three, he was proud of having a paycheck every two weeks from a legit place. 

The click of the waitresses shoes on the floor had Jeff looking up, thanking her for the drinks. She was dressed a little more conservative than the other waitresses had been, wearing a black mini skirt and a see-through red long sleeved top, showing off black sparkly stickers that covered her nipples. 

But that wasn’t what had him taking a second look. At first glance he thought maybe it was just a note written in pen, a reminder of some sort on the top of her hand, lots of people wrote on their hands right? But when she set the drinks down, reaching past them and across the table to grab a napkin, sopping up spilled beer, he almost choked on air.

It wasn’t something written in pen, or a weird unlucky shaped birthmark. The marks on her hand were two small symbols, they had faded with time and were blown out a little on the edges. 

Of course they were, because the identical marks on his hand were blurred the exact same way. Two little symbols, done on the hottest day in July. The smell of his childhood room stung his nose as he thought of that day. 

A day when you were both only thirteen. 

The regulars were bellied up to the bar holding an aluminum can toast to their long gone friend, hollering for you to play some David Allen Coe in a final goodbye. 

Flicking through the jukebox to find “Never Even Called Me By My Name,” you were too busy to pay any attention to the toast of the deceased buddy.

Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have been completely blindsided. 

“Clovie?” A disgustingly sweet saccharine voice laced between bubble gum pink lips sang out from behind you, tapping you simultaneously on the shoulder, “be a dolly and run the drinks over to table 8, would ya?”

“Why c—”

Tiff was already gone, the door to the dressing room swinging shut in a shower of White Diamond perfume before you could even spin around and tell her where she could shove those aforementioned drinks. 

Outside of collecting her own tips, and pleasuring the doctor, Tiff never lifted a finger to help. 

Wiping your hands on the cleanest towel you could find, your muttering goes unheard as you cross back over to the bar and grab the cracked black plastic tray set with two large overflowing mugs of draft beer. 

The ground was sticky under your boots, like walking in half dried paint, sometimes you wondered if Wendy actually served a full drink to anyone. 

Balancing the heavy tray on your palm and shoulder, you pray that it won’t snap before you’re able to place the drinks down. 

Table 8 was occupied by a guy you had seen before but couldn’t remember from where, and a long dark curly haired woman who was facing away from you. 

The smile on your face was the fakest one you could make, hoping to maybe get a good tip before Tiff could notice and take her claim. 

“Alrighty,” your customer service voice sang with a false sweet sincerity, “looks like we have two Busch Lights?” 

The guy you had greeted smiled eagerly, moving his elbows from the table allowing room for the frosty mugs to be placed. 

Your fingers work gingerly to set the ruby colored drink napkins down first. The beer was placed carefully, his greedy fingers grabbing the handle before you could barely remove your hand from it. 

The second beer started to slide on the tray, and you over corrected causing it to land with a thud on the table, sloshing the pale ale all over the table—luckily not on the woman. 

So much for a tip, huh?

Apologizing quickly, you lean across the table and reach for the paper napkins. Wiping up the mess hastily you toss the wet heap onto your tray. 

Turning to the woman to offer her a look that’ll hopefully get you in her good graces— well enough that maybe her husband would reconsider tipping, “I’ll go fetch a rag and come back with another beer free of charge sweetheart,” you start to smile sheepishly, “I’m so s—”

The eyes you were met with were the deepest shade of brown, struck with astonishment, crowded by a grove of thick lashes, a look of dismay etched into them. 

Blinking once, twice, you couldn’t register if you were truly seeing this or hallucinating. 

You hadn’t seen those eyes in years, a flash of recognition drops on your face and the perky smile fades. Heart falling to the well of your stomach, punching the air from your lungs, heat rising to the surface of your cheeks. 

In an instant, you’re brought back to many years before tonight. When those eyes were younger, full of teenage angst and rebellion. 

Hell must’ve froze over, pigs were without a doubt flying overhead: Eddie Munson had returned to Hawkins. 

taglist: @mmunson86 @sidthedollface2 @winchester-angel @mrsjellymunson @joannamuns9n @tlclick73 @mewchiili @spacedoutdaydreamer @emxxblog @maybeisthemoon @str4ngergirlw0rld @chrrymunson @insertcoolnameherethanks @kellsck @prestinalove @mandyjo8719 @onegirlmanytales @mopeymopeymouse @veravee-blog @taintedcigs @eddies-acousticguitar @oeuryale @kthomps914 @bangaveragewhitewine @lil-quinnie @corrodedcoffincumslut @definitionwanderlust @madaboutjoe @littledemondani @eiightysixbaby @usedtobecooler

[steddieas-shegoes]

a lot alike

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'gareth'

rated t | 997 words | cw: mention of shitty parenting | tags: side steddie, gareth and eddie are best friends, post vecna

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Gareth Emerson is born on July 25th, 1968.

Gareth's parent's divorce is finalized on August 8th, 1968.

Gareth's dad leaves town and never looks back on August 12th, 1968.

***

Eddie Munson is a lot of things, but first and foremost, he's Gareth's best friend. He's more like an older brother at this point, and an annoying one at that.

But he's always there for him, even when things go to absolute shit.

***

On March 29th, 1986, Gareth's dad decides to visit him.

It's not great timing considering the town is in shambles and his best friend is still technically facing murder charges. Steve Harrington says they'll be cleared, but he isn't sure he trusts Steve Harrington much. Robin Buckley backs him up, though, and he had a little bit of a crush on Robin for most of his Freshman year, so he supposes he can find it in himself to trust her.

No one is allowed to see Eddie except for his Uncle Wayne, and Wayne barely leaves his side.

So when Gareth's father comes into town, he doesn't know who to turn to.

Jeff and Frankie would probably be understanding about how confused he is, but they wouldn't get it. Not like Eddie would.

Eddie's dad came and went in his life more times than anyone could count, finally being forced to stay away thanks to a lengthy prison sentence and protective order keeping him away for nearly a decade. He knew what it was like firsthand, and knew Gareth well enough to know that most comforting words wouldn't help.

He's walking up and down the neighborhood, stepping over the cracks that make it seem like the town may splinter into pieces at any second, when Steve Harrington pulls up next to him in his BMW with his window down.

"You wanna go see him?" Steve asks.

"They'll let me in?" Gareth asks back, a little stunned to even see Steve in this part of town. He had no reason to be here as far as he knew.

"Hopper convinced them to let him make a guest list of a few people. You're on it. Hop in."

Gareth had no choice but to believe him.

***

"Nice to see you, son," Wayne patted him on the shoulder just outside of Eddie's room. "Doing okay?"

Gareth shrugged, pretty sure Wayne already knew the answer to that question.

"Well, Ed's on the upswing now. He's still in a lot of pain, so maybe keep your visit today short so he doesn't push himself." Wayne sighed. "Heard your old man was in town."

"You got some great hearing, then."

"He botherin' you and your ma?"

Gareth knew he was just looking out for him, but Steve was standing just on the other side of the door talking to Eddie about something before Gareth went in and he didn't need the King of Hawkins High to hear about his daddy issues.

"Nah. Just heard about the earthquake and decided to check on us for the first time ever."

"You let me know if he starts causing a problem for you two."

It was sweet of him to offer, but probably not necessary. His father was a piece of shit, but he never actively caused problems with them. He just...left.

"Can do."

Wayne squeezed his shoulder before walking down the hall and getting on the elevator.

When Gareth walked into the room, Steve was sitting on the side of the bed, arguing in a hushed tone. His head snapped up when the door closed behind Gareth.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt," he said as he stood awkwardly by the door. He was trying not to gawk at how bruised and scarred Eddie was, but failing. He'd assumed things were bad, but he didn't realize they were this bad. "I can wait outside."

"It's okay, Stevie here was just heading out. He's on a top secret mission to get me some burgers and fries so I don't have to eat another nearly expired fruit cup for dinner." Eddie smiled, or tried to, his mouth falling down into a frown when it seemed to pull on stitches holding him together.

"You gonna hang out a bit? I can grab you something too," Steve offered as he stood, his hand brushing against the back of Eddie's. "I could stop somewhere else if you don't want burgers. I think the pizza place is open again."

"A burger's fine, man. Thanks."

"Cool. Be back soon."

It didn't look like he wanted to leave, but Eddie gave him a small smile and nod and Steve did.

"Not King Steve, man. Anyone but him," Gareth groaned as soon as he was sure Steve was gone. "How?"

"He's not so bad. He's buying you lunch, right?"

"I guess, but I need the whole story soon."

"Maybe after you tell me about your dad being in town."

Gareth gulped. He didn't think Eddie would've heard, but maybe Wayne had warned him.

"Not sure what to say about a guy I don't know." Gareth sighed. "Just wish he hadn't bothered. We're fine. We've been fine this whole time."

Eddie nodded. "He being polite?"

Gareth smirked. That was Eddie's nice way of asking if he needed to get Wayne to take care of someone.

"He's fine. I promise. He probably won't stick around for long. Not with the way half the town isn't even here anymore and the other half is barely functioning." Gareth nudged Eddie's unbandaged hand. "You gonna be okay?"

"If this didn't kill me, nothing will!" Eddie grinned, wincing after a few seconds. "But man have I got some ideas for our next campaign."

"Yeah?"

"Yep. Steve offered his place when I break free if you want."

"Harrington's house used for DnD instead of parties?" Gareth couldn't quite believe it.

"Won't be the first time," Eddie said as he winked. "You in?"

"Sure."

Eddie went off on a tangent about some new monsters while Gareth sat back and smiled.