#that fact that i made this SIX MONTHS AGO and it's been sitting in my drafts ever since

[druidgroves]

Varric: We’d all best get to the Gallows, and quick. It’s going to be quite a show.

DRAGON AGE 2 | ACT 3 ↳ The Last Straw - Anders’ Fate

[ellecdc]

hello! would you maybe be willing to consider writing a kind of follow-up to the poly moonwater fics where reader is pregnant? maybe when she has the babies and everyone’s reactions?? ty for reading my request🙏

I love this little family so damn much 😭🫶

poly!moonwater x afab!reader who gives birth to their twins

CW: pregnancy, hormonal fits, brief discussion of Regulus' childhood, brief discussion of Remus' childhood, going into labour, portrayal of breastfeeding though nothing is described, Barty losing his fucking mind, Uncle Sirius for Best Uncle 2024, also the babies look like their daddies to avoid describing/labelling the mother's features

Remus felt for you. He really, really did.

But also, he was a little afraid of you.

Scratch that, he was very afraid of you.

But his sympathy for you ran deeper than his fear, which is how he found himself sitting in one of the (many) gliders Regulus has purchased for every room in your shared home as you fought to find a comfortable position in your bed.

And yes, your bed.

Because you had since kicked Remus and Regulus out of your shared bed.

And though they didn’t feel particularly bad about it, you claimed it was their fault.

You see, after a particularly worrisome fall - that took place  at six and a half months pregnant (with twins, no less) as you missed a step on your way up the stairs of your townhouse - unfortunately for you, and fortunately for Remus and Regulus, it happened in front of all of your friends one night when they were over for dinner, which resulted in a lot of fussing by James and Sirius, and caused Barty to go marching upstairs and begin moving all of your furniture and belongings into the spare room on the main floor.

“Like fuck my Treasure is navigating these stairs in her condition. The two of you are sodding useless; this should have been done months ago.” He spat venomously as Evan shouted at him that it was “not polite to reconfigure someone else's house without permission.”

You vehemently protested the move.

Regulus and Remus didn’t think it was such a bad idea.

Because of their ‘betrayal’ (read: their lack of support in your arguments against your most capricious friend devotee), the boys were not allowed in ‘your room’.

So, perhaps Remus was already pushing the limits by taking up residence in the glider as you tried and failed to find a comfortable position to read in, determined to take a nap. 

“The babes giving you grief, dove?” He asked softly, earning him a derisive scoff from you. 

“What do you think?” You spat. 

Remus grimaced but decided to soldier on. “They may be ready to come any day now.”

That was the wrong thing to say if your quick glare was anything to go by.

“No they are not.”

“Dove,” he started, closing his own book and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he considered you. “Anywhere from 34 to 38 weeks is full term for twins. The fact you’ve made it to 35 is incredible, baby.”

Your lips pinched as your brows dipped, and Remus was sure you were close to tears. “No, I’m not ready, I-” you let out a breath as you cut yourself off, alerting Remus to the fact that you were about to give away the sex of (one of) the babies. “Baby B, they need more time.” You admitted, voice quieter as if you were afraid saying it any louder would somehow jinx it and trigger your own labour. 

“They’re going to come when they’re ready.” He repeated.

He left the room after you threw your book at him. 

He followed the sounds coming from the kitchen where he found Regulus on his hands and knees underneath the cabinets, of which he’d emptied of all their contents.

The second Regulus found out that the three of you were expecting twins, and due to the nature of the superfetation and thus the risks involved, he quit his job and strong-armed (read: lightly encouraged) Remus to do the same. 

And while Remus focused on catering to you and ensuring you were comfortable (or…as comfortable as humanly possible when you had two little freaks using your organs as trampolines) and well fed, Regulus focused on…whatever this was.

“Reggie?”

“Mhm?” He responded quickly, voice muffled from where his head was still shoved deep within the lower cabinets.

“What are you doing?”

Regulus shifted and his head made a painful thump sound when it connected with the top of the cabinet before he pulled himself out of it.

“Cleaning.”

One of Remus' brows arched at that. “The lower cabinets?”

“Right.”

“Why?”

Regulus rubbed the back of his head as he looked between Remus and the mess he was currently surrounded by in the name of ‘cleaning’. 

“Well…the babies-”

“Won’t be concerned with the lower cabinets.” Remus cut him off, looking down at his boyfriend lovingly.

Remus watched as Regulus took a deep breath and deflated significantly. 

Remus pushed aside some large pots and various cleaning products as he joined Regulus on the floor and pulled him closer by the ankle. 

“What’s going on inside that head of yours, love?” He asked him quietly, rubbing his thumb along his Achilles tendon as Regulus seemed to organise his thoughts.

“I don’t think I’m going to go back to work.” Regulus blurted finally.

Remus fought to school his expression as he tilted his head in consideration. “Ever?”

Regulus shook his head and rested his chin on his knees. “I don’t know. Maybe just part time or something…I just- I don’t…I don’t want to be like him.”

“Like who, sweetheart?”

“Like my father.” Regulus bit out, bitterness colouring his tone. “Avoiding my family and responsibilities by hiding at work. Coming home to find out the babies have done something wonderful and I missed it. I…I want to be here, and I’m afraid; I’m afraid I’ll be more like him than I mean to be.”

Remus smiled sadly at Regulus as he squeezed his ankle twice. “I already know you’ll be nothing like him, my star. Considering you’re so worried about it, I know you’ll be 100 times the father he was. But, I’ll be here to make sure that stays true, okay?”

Regulus’ eyes met Remus’, and he felt his heart squeeze at the redness rimming Regulus’ eyes as they turned glassy. 

“I’ll take care of you - both of you; all of you. You’ll never have to want for anything, you know that right?” Regulus stated urgently. 

Remus smiled softly at him as he nodded. “I know, love.”

“You could stay home indefinitely too, you know.” Regulus offered shyly. 

Remus chuckled. “You just don’t want to have to face our little mama bear all by yourself.” He teased. 

Regulus chuckled in response but his eyes morphed into a lovesick gaze as he stared unseeingly out the archway of the kitchen. “She’s just uncomfortable and stressed right now.”

“She’s gonna be such a good mum.” Remus agreed quickly.

“The best.”

“We’re so lucky.”

“Rem? Reg?” Your voice sounded from the hall before your form hobbled into the archway as you used the door frame for support.

“What’s the matter?” Regulus asked quickly, kicking his feet out and sending various pots toppling over on the tile floor.

Whatever you had been on your way to say seemed to be placed on the back burner as your brows pinched and your eyes darted across the chaos that was currently your kitchen.

“What were you doing in here?” You asked slightly breathlessly. Both Remus and Regulus stood sheepishly.

“Erm, uh….cleaning?” Regulus answered in the form of a question.

One of your brows raised as you continued scanning the mess. “You’re not very good at it.”

“What did you need, dove?” Remus asked gently.

Your face softened as you looked up at him worriedly. 

“I think my water broke.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the messy kitchen as Remus and Regulus stood staring at you dumbfoundedly. 

“You…” Regulus started before clearing his throat. “You think?”

You grimaced as you looked down to your stomach sheepishly. “No I…I’m quite sure. I think-” You paused to suck in a breath through your teeth. “I think it’s time.”

The breath that followed the end of your sentence bordered on a groan and the boys jumped to action. 

“Okay, come here amour.” Regulus said gently as he supported you with one hand on your elbow and the other on your lower back and he guided you to a chair in the dining room. “Rem, can you grab the babies’ bags?”

“On it.” He answered quickly and went running to the nursery to grab two matching nappy bags. Merlin, babies come with a lot of stuff.

“Are you grabbing our bag?” Remus called to Regulus who was then running up the stairs to the ensuite bedroom.

“Oui! Amour’s bag is in her closet.”

“Got it!”

Regulus and Remus reconvened in the living room with four bags, two baby carriers, and enough panic to fill an olympic swimming pool.

“Okay, baby bags have nappies?” Regulus asked, reading off a list in his hands.

“Check.” Remus responded.

“Snappies?”

“Check.”

“Blankets?”

“Check.”

“Hats and booties?”

“Got it.”

“Okay. And who packed mama’s bag?”

“She did.”

Regulus let out a relieved sigh. “Okay, no need to check that one then.”

Remus offered him an unimpressed look as he re-zipped the babies’ bags and threw them over his shoulder.

“Okay, you grab the carriers and our bag, I’ll grab the rest.” Remus instructed, which Regulus complied as they stepped up to the floo.

“Alright, St. Mungo’s.” Remus said clearly as the flames surged green and the two men stepped through to the intake room of the magical hospital.

Both men were breathless as they nearly collided with the desk where an unimpressed mediwix looked them both up and down.

“We’re checking into the maternity ward; our partner has gone into labour.” Remus explained in an exhale.

The mediwix moved his gaze between both men, their stomachs, and the various belongings they were carrying.

“Right,” he drawled before his eyes returned to Remus’. “And, your partner?”

“Y/N L/N.” Regulus added quickly, causing the mediwix to move his judgmental stare to him.

“Right….and where is she?”

Both men spun to face each other in a mixture of horror and embarrassment.

Remus rounded the corner of the kitchen to find you sitting where Regulus had left you, one hand massaging a point of your stomach as you considered him with a look full of judgement and mirth. 

“Where’s Reg?” You goaded as Remus helped you up from your chair and started making the slow trek back towards the floo flames; his face burning hot with shame that he was sure was spreading to the tips of his ears and well down his chest. 

“He was too embarrassed.” He admitted quietly.

You sounded like you were getting ready to laugh when you doubled over and a pained whimper escaped your lips.

Remus quickly bent down so he had one hand on each of your arms, trying to help keep you upright.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I’m sorry. We’re going to get you in a bed and feeling better, okay?”

You whimpered again and looked up at Remus sadly. “I’m sorry.” You cried quietly.

“Dove.” He admonished sadly. “What on earth are you sorry for?”

You took in two large breaths as you tried to breathe around the pain. “You have to do this every month.”

Remus wanted to cry. For you, or for himself, he wasn’t sure. He loved you so sodding much he couldn’t even tell what exactly it was about what you said that touched him so much.

“You’re so much stronger and braver than I am though, dovey. So if I can get through it, I know you can too, yeah?” He offered softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’m only brave because I learned it from you.” You gritted out through a sob. 

“We can argue about this later, okay? Let’s get you checked in; I’m sure the mediwix is glaring daggers at Regulus for having abandoned his pregnant partner.”

He managed to coerce a small laugh out of you which he considered a win before you both stepped through the flames. 

Remus didn’t grow up expecting much out of life.

Bitten at only four years old, he was certain something would go wrong with his little body during one of his transformations and he’d be dead long before he ever hit Hogwarts age.

He couldn’t attend muggle school growing up due to his affliction and the risk of performing accidental magic in front of muggles.

Though he was certain he was going to die before age 11, he was even more certain that should he make it to 11, he’d never be accepted into Hogwarts.

When he was accepted into Hogwarts, he was certain he’d never make any friends.

When he made friends, he was certain they’d hate him if they found out about his lycanthropy.

When his friends accepted him for his lycanthropy, well….he never imagined he’d be so lucky as to find a partner who was just as accepting.

Let alone two.

For as long as Remus Lupin could remember, he never imagined ever feeling as much love or as loved as he currently felt in this exact moment.

Not only did he have two people who he loved beyond measure, but those two people gifted him two of the most perfect, tiny little beings he could have never imagined possible.

And suddenly - sitting here in a hospital room with you resting in a bed with your eyes closed as Regulus wiped lovingly at your face with a damp cloth, with a tiny little black-haired baby swaddled to perfection fast asleep in a see-through bassinet on your other side, and with an even tinier fawn-haired baby snuggled perfectly into Remus’ bare chest - every single full moon was worth it.

Every broken bone, every scar, every ache and pain and sleepless night that brought him here was absolutely, without a doubt, worth it. 

“Knock knock!” Remus could hear Lily murmur quietly yet brightly from behind the closed hospital door.

“That is so cringey, Red. Why wouldn’t you just knock?” Sirius muttered. 

“Because!” She hissed back and he could hear what sounded like Sirius being swatted with her purse. “They could be sleeping! I don’t want to startle them with a loud knock.”

“Oh yeah, Rem and Reg are definitely gonna piss their pants at the sound of you knocking on the door. Shouldn’t mama be all drugged up right now anyway?”

You chuckled under your breath as you peeled open one of your eyes to look over at Remus who was looking at you with a matching smile as you listened to Sirius being walloped three more times.

“Okay, well, you guys settle this out here then.” James decided as he pushed the door open.

He smiled at you and Regulus before his eyes met Remus’ form in a glider as he was currently doing skin-to-skin with his miniature doppelganger. 

James made a very embarrassing cooing sound (if you asked Remus) as he made his way into the room, tiptoeing like he was avoiding invisible trip wires. 

Lily and Sirius stopped their scuffle as they followed James in, beaming widely at Remus.

“Oh my Godric, Moony.” Lily cooed, looking awfully close to tears as the nickname so unusual out of Lily’s mouth caused Remus’ eyes to well up similarly. “It’s you as a baby!”

“Who was right? Girl or boy?” Sirius asked quickly, daring to reach forward and lovingly stroke a finger along the downy soft skin on the baby’s cheek.

Remus snorted and Regulus groaned. 

“Girl, Pads.”

“Yes!” Lily and Sirius cheered quietly as they gave each other double high fives, clearly over whatever tiff they were having in the hallway mere moments ago.

“Better luck next time, Reggie.” James called towards him, causing you to narrow your eyes dangerously at your friend.

“Wait.” James said as he caught sight of a little something in a bassinet behind Regulus. “WAIT.”

“What?” Sirius asked, craning his neck to see what James was looking at.

“No…” Lily breathed out disbelievingly.

“Twins?!” Sirius shrieked.

“What?” Regulus asked derisively, and Remus had to work really hard to keep his face neutral at that.

“Wha-” James started, violently whipping his head back and forth between the two infants in the room. “What do you mean, what!?”

“There’s two!” Sirius exclaimed.

Your mouth dropped open in ‘shock’ as you looked at Sirius aghast. “You see the other one too?”

The room fell painfully silent as James, Lily, and Sirius all looked bemusedly between the family of five before Remus couldn’t take it anymore and started giggling. 

His daughter began to stir from the rumbling of his chest causing Regulus to scoff in faux admonishment.

“Would you knock that off, Remus; you’re going to give her shaken baby syndrome.” He muttered before he was gently prying the tiny infant from Remus’ chest and wrapping her up in a blanket before holding her close to his chest.

“Mama.” Lily breathed out. “Two!?”

“Two.” You confirmed. Remus delighted at the shy yet proud smile you adorned as you tucked your chin to your chest. 

Throwing his jumper back on, he moved over to perch on the opposite side of your bed and pulled the little bassinet closer to the two of you.

“Are they both girls?” Lily asked.

“Yes.” Remus laughed, causing Sirius to cackle from where he stood looking over Regulus’ shoulder at one of his nieces. 

“You were wrong twice little brother!”

“Sod off, Sirius.”

Sirius smacked Regulus up the back of the head. “You watch your mouth around my nieces, hellion.” 

“Isn’t hellion a swear word?” James queried.

“It’s not a swear, it’s a noun.” Sirius explained.

“But then wouldn’t fuck be a verb?” Remus asked, causing the room to fall silent as everyone pondered that for a moment.

The silence didn’t last long as the sound of two heavy footfalls grew in volume before they stopped abruptly in front of the hospital room.

“Am I too late!?” Barty screeched (albeit quietly) into the room as he and Evan stood in the doorway catching their breaths.

“Too late for…what, Junior? What did you think was happening here?” James asked.

“Shut up.” Barty spat as he moved into the room, shoving past everyone to press kisses against your forehead. 

“My beautiful, sweet Treasure. All this work for two tossers. We could still run away, yeah? You, me and the baby; just say the word.” 

“Try babies, Junior.” Sirius taunted, causing Barty to straighten up so quickly he nearly collided with Lily as he turned to look at Sirius incredulously. 

“What!?”

Sirius smirked as he pointed to the baby in Regulus’ arms as Barty moved to inspect the tawny-haired babe.

“A Lupin. That’s too bad.” Barty muttered quietly, causing Regulus to kick at his shin and you to shout a reproachful ‘Bartemus!”.

“And there.” Sirius continued, pointing to where Remus was picking up a black-haired babe from a clear bassinet to pass into your waiting arms. 

“A Black!? Even worse!” Barty shrilled.

“Barty!” You chided again, though the smile playing at your lips severely diminished the severity of your tone.

“Oh, oh gods, oh my. I-” 

Barty didn’t seem to know where to look; pained puffs of air leaving his lungs as he spun comedically on the spot, dividing his attention between you and the two baby girls.

“Rosier, your boyfriend’s about to combust.” Lily teased as she leaned back into James who quickly wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head. 

“Barty.” Evan tried, causing Barty to look at him in horror.

“There’s two!”

Even Evan seemed to find some humour in the state of his boyfriend as his lips quirked up into a smirk. “Yes, babe. I counted that many as well.”

“Two!?” He shouted again as he turned his sights on you.

“How’d….How’d you have two in there!?” He barked as he pointed accusatively at your stomach.

“Magic?” You asked shyly, looking down at your daughter who was beginning to fuss.

“Way to go, Junior. You’ve upset her.” Sirius grumbled.

“She’s hungry.” Remus corrected, stroking her dark hair before moving his hand to stroke yours in much the same way.

“Her?” Barty asked quietly, watching as you helped the infant latch. 

“Two girls, Uncle Barty.” You offered quietly, smiling softly up at your fiercest friend.

“I’m a girl uncle.” He said in awe, moving his smile towards the baby in Regulus’ arms.

“What are their names?” James asked eagerly. 

You looked shyly up at Remus who in turn fielded the question to Regulus. 

“This here,” Regulus started, pausing to clear his throat as he looked down at his daughter. “Is Rome Valeria Lupin.”

Lily let out a breathy ‘awe’ as she touched her hand to her chest, and Remus pretended he didn’t notice Sirius wiping a tear from under his eye.

“Named after the Empire, just like her daddy.” James commented with a soft yet proud smirk.

“And that one there is Soleil Pax Lupin.”

Sirius’ gaze moved to the little head he could see nuzzling at her mother’s chest. “A Sunny little girl.” He whispered quietly.

“Pax, that means peace in Latin, yeah?” Evan commented, smirking as Barty scoffed at him.

“Of course it does, Evan. Everyone knows that.”

James’ eyebrows furrowed as he looked towards Remus. “I didn’t know that…” He admitted quietly. 

“And Valeria means strength; Rome was a little younger than her sister, but she was a powerful little fighter.” Remus explained, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“They’re perfect, you guys. Just perfect.” Lily commented emphatically, earning nods in agreement from James, Sirius, and Evan.

“With no help from these wankers, surely. You did a great job, Treasure. They may have lost the lottery in terms of fathers but these girls couldn’t have asked for a better mum.”

And though Regulus rolled his eyes with an annoyed shake of his head, no one bothered to argue.

These two girls really lucked out when it came to their mummy. 

“Oh gods.” Barty whispered as he stood hastily.

“What?” Regulus asked cautiously.

“Oh gods.” He shrieked, turning a withering glare towards his friend. “You sods should have told me!”

Remus helped you right your robe as you pulled Soleil away from you and began patting gently at her back. “We thought it would be a funny surprise.” He explained.

Barty scoffed derisively and turned his ire onto him.

“Well ha ha, very funny.” He deadpanned. “I’ve only bought one of everything!”

Regulus waved him off after he passed Rome to his brother’s eagerly awaiting arms. “That’s fine, Barty.”

“No! It's not fine, Barty!” Barty volleyed back. “Evan, let’s go.” He ordered as he bent to press another kiss to your head, kissed his hand and gently pressed it to Soleil’s shoulder and did the same to Rome (much to Sirius’ chagrin). 

“Where?”

“Shopping! I need to go back and buy another of everything that we’ve bought!”

“Over the past seven months!?” Evan asked incredulously.

“Yes!”

Remus could hear them arguing all the way to the floo flames.

Lily offered to take Soleil from you to finish burping the baby as the room fell into a comfortable silence.

“So, when can we start trying again?” Regulus asked, causing Remus to grimace and you to level him with a look that would send a lesser man straight to his grave.

“Okay,” Regulus acquiesced. “We’ll talk more next week.”

Sirius laughed as he looked down at the babe in his arms.

“Sounds like your papa’s going to be sleeping on Uncle Siri’s couch, Roro.” He cooed.

From the look on your face, Remus was sure Sirius was quite right.

A/N: thanks to some of the ideas that were sent to me from anon's, like the idea that they rushed to the hospital and forgot reader at the house 🤣

[authorhjk1]

Idol Competition

IU X Kang Seulgi

IU sits on the couch in her apartment, her phone in her hand. It's 9:55 am on a Monday. The fourth of December to be exact.

Five more minutes. She has five more minutes until her deadline. IU wonders if she is able to still pull it off. It's quite cold outside, so she expected her to not go through with it. But the other woman sounded more than confident.

Lee Ji-eun checks the chat history on her KakaoTalk app. No picture to proof her accomplished mission yet. IU smirks. Four minutes left.

Is this it? Is this going to be the moment she wins this competition? It has been going on for months now. The two women come up with new challenges almost every day.

Kang Seulgi had two days for this one. IU sees the six turn into a seven. Three more minutes. Even if she could do it in the cold, she would still need to find someone to do it with her. IU wonders who could be crazy enough.

But then again, it's Seulgi. She is a famous woman. And really pretty. There is no doubt that someone would say yes.

Two more minutes.

IU is already thinking about the prize. Although you could say that every mission was a prize itself already.

Her phone vibrates and Ji-eun sighs in disappointment. She clicks on the picture Kang Seulgi send her just now.

The younger woman is kneeling on a blanket. It's visibility windy, her hair flying in all directions behind her. The waves of the ocean are captured on the left side of the picture.

It could have been a normal picture of a woman on a beach. Except for the fact that Seulgi is completely naked. And that it looks like she just good a facial.

IU zooms in on her face. She licks her lips as she sees how well someone came on her competitor's face.

Seulgi is smiling into the camera, hands behind her back, pushing her tits a little forward.

"How often did you get caught?"

IU bites one of her nails as she sees the notification that Seulgi is typing a response.

"Twice. The second guy even stayed and watched while I got my face fucked."

IU moans at the thought. She remembers the challenge from two weeks ago.

Seulgi made her go shopping without her credit card. When she wanted to buy something, she had to convince the seller with something else. It didn't matter if it was a man or a woman, IU did her best to buy as much as she could. In the end, she got caught by a young couple in the isle of some store, her face a mess while the seller was abusing her throat.

"Was it very cold?"

"It was alright. Sex makes you warm real quick."

IU chuckles at Seulgi's message.

"Do you already have something in mind for me? Or do I need to wait?"

Ji-eun's eyes widen when she sees Seulgi's next text.

"Go to SSHS."

That's Seoul Science High School.

"Find a student who is younger than 20 and give him the best school day of his life."

IU can't help but let her hand slide underneath her shorts. Being over thirty years old already, she recently discovered that this is somewhat a new kink of hers. Younger guys who are almost half her age. Legal of course, but young. This could be her chance to freely enjoy this kink of hers.

"Deal."

"You've only today. Should be a piece of cake for a slut like you."

"I love you too."

IU teases her back, before getting off the couch. What to wear for her visit to high school?

Ji-eun walks towards her closet. Should she dress up as a teacher? Or a student?

She can feel how wet these thoughts make her pussy. The idea of letting some young man fuck her, forces IU to move her hand back into her shorts. She let's herself sink into her bed, while looking at the opened closet. Her head falls back as she starts to finger herself.

IU nervously looks around, before reaching inside the bookshelf. Now that she is here, she is way more cautious. It was surprisingly easy to get inside the school building, considering that strangers are not allowed.

Wearing her mask, Ji-eun was able to pass as a teacher while walking through the hallways. She is now standing in the library. The perfect place for her challenge in her opinion.

Now that she has placed her phone inside the bookshelf to record the proof, she is looking around to find the right guy.

"Ms. Lee?"

IU turns around on instinct, her heart sinking. Did she actually get caught already?

"I apologize. I thought you were our homeroom teacher."

The young girl apologizes. She doesn't seem to recognize her. IU takes a deep breath, relieved that she is fine.

"It's alright. Can I help you anyways?"

She tries to act natural, hoping the girl won't catch on.

"Yeah. Me and my boyfriend are looking for the right textbooks for our research. I'm not old enough and he lost his library card. We wanted to ask Ms. Lee for help."

Ji-eun nods. Does that mean her boyfriend is at least eighteen? She knows you have to be over eighteen to borrow specific books from the library.

"I'm sorry, I can't help you with that. You better ask Ms. Lee."

"Thanks, teacher."

The young girl bows and walks towards a table. A guy, who seems to be her boyfriend, is waiting for her there.

IU can't help but bite her lip. The first guy she finds looks quite handsome as well. She doubts he could resist her. After all, relationships in high school aren't serious anyways.

She watches the girl leave the library, before walking over.

As expected, it only takes a couple of words, before IU takes the boy's hand and leads him towards the bookshelf. He just turned eighteen four months ago. Just the right age to fulfill this fantasy.

She can feel his stare on her legs as she walks in front of him. Ji-eun deliberately chose this outfit. It's not too revealing, but it highlights her long, flawless legs.

Once the pair reaches the shelf where IU put her phone, she turns around.

"I will make sure that you enjoy yourself."

She gets on her knees in front of him.

IU expected him to not last very long, but here she is. Her face pressed against books about biology as she gets fucked from behind. The recording must be ten minutes long already, plenty of footage for Seulgi to enjoy later on.

Ji-eun was able to stay mostly quiet up until now. The guy's pace keeps increasing as he starts to reach his limit. She feels his young cock in her wet pussy, enjoying the fact that he is barely older than half her age. She never doubted herself. She knew every guy wants to fuck her. Whatever their age.

"Turn me around."

IU is close to her own orgasm herself. The student does as she says, turning her around to face him. She leans against the bookshelf, staring at the one across the isle. That's where her phone is hidden. Her dark, lustfilled eyes are glued to the camera as he starts to thrust into her again.

Her small Gucci shorts are lying at Ji-eun's feet. She wasn't wearing underwear, knowing she would have to take it off anyways.

"You fuck me so good."

She whispers into his ear as she places her head onto his shoulder.

His hands hold her small waist, pounding her into the shelf full of books.

"Fuck!"

IU is unable to not moan loudly, when she finally cums. Her pussy contracting around the young guy's cock, making him orgasm as well. She can't believe how good this felt. How good it still feels.

This was a better fuck than what she expected. Not just because he is way younger.

As he let's his cock slip out of her, IU watches his cum drip out of her pussy. She can't blame him. Her pussy is just so incredibly tight when she cums.

"Oh fuck."

Seulgi sighs as she cums on her fingers. Her phone is in the other hand, her screen showing IU's new video. Seulgi knew she could pull it of, but never expected it to be this hot. The way Ji-eun looked at the camera while she got railed into the bookshelf....

Seulgi tries to collect herself as she hears her members walk around. Yeri and Joy both seem to be in a very good mood today.

With shaky fingers, she starts typing on her phone.

"What do you have for me?'

Seulgi is genuinely curious. At this point the two of them did pretty much everything. She doesn't even know what task she should give IU after this one.

"The two of us have a music show soon, right?"

"Yeah."

"If that hot camera man is there again, I want you to suck him off, while I watch."

Seulgi remembers the face fucking on the beach mere hours ago.

"Deal."

"Why don't you cum on my pretty face, hmm?"

Seulgi kneels in front of the young man, stroking his cock. IU is sitting on the couch behind her, watching and getting herself off. IU's dressing room looks like it has become a scene of some dirty movie as Seulgi wraps her lips around the man's cock once more. Her head bobs up and down, making him groan and take a fistful of her hair.

Seulgi's pussy feels even wetter than usual, probably because she has someone watching. She wants to prove to IU that she is the better one at sucking cock.

"Are you enjoying your reward?"

IU sighs as she looks at the guy, who's eyes are glued to Seulgi's face. He nods, unable to understand how ge got himself into this. When he started working, he never expected someone like Seulgi to walk up to him after the show, asking if he wants some head.

She is now doing her best to make him cum, her slow blowjob proving enough for the guy eventually.

While IU has her hand rub her pussy, she watches how he starts cuming on Seulgi's face. Rope after rope of his cum stains her skin, some of it getting into her eyes.

Seulgi let's out a satisfied hum as she starts to clean his cock.

"You taste delicious."

She gives his tip one last kiss, before he starts to pull up his pants. There is another group about to perform.

As the two women watch him leave, Seulgi takes some of the tissues from the small coffee table and starts to clean her face.

"Anything else?"

Seulgi shakes her head.

"I can't come up with a good idea."

IU sighs as she licks her fingers clean. She enjoys the taste of her pussy just as much as the guys who eat her out.

"Me neither. I was afraid this would happen."

"So what now? Do we end this in a tie?"

IU raises and eyebrow.

"Do you think you are better slut than me?"

Seulgi shrugs her shoulders.

"Let's just say I got two faicals today. What about you?"

IU shakes her head.

"We can't end it like this."

The notification sound of Seulgi's phone interrupts their conversation. The younger woman unlocks her phone, before scrolling around.

"What are you doing?"

She sees Seulgi bit her lip as she seems to read something.

"There is another smut fic about me."

"You actually read those?"

"They are hot. I like how my fans think about me."

She gives IU a wink, before she keeps reading the new post.

The wheels in the older girl's mind start to turn.

"Do you think they would do this to us in person? What they write?"

"Unnie..."

Seulgi looks at her.

"I like how you're thinking."

"We should invite some of the writers so they have more inspiration for their stories."

The two of them laugh.

"That's a good idea."

Seulgi scrolls through her phone.

"But there are so many. If we would try to fuck them all, our careers would be over before we got to all of them. We don't have so much time."

"Who says we have to fuck them individually?"

IU's smirk makes Seulgi chuckle.

"I like where this is heading."

"But how are we going to get them all in one place? They probably live all over the world."

Seulgi ponders for a moment.

"How about we send them dms and pictures of us? It should work. Especially when we tell them that we are inviting others as well. This way they can communicate with each other, making sure we aren't trying to scam them or something."

"Sounds like a plan. What could go wrong?"

IU regrets those words as soon as she opens the door of the practice room. Two weeks later and here they are. The two women look at the fully packed room. Seulgi tries to count the guys who are here. They messaged about twenty guys, but it now looks more like thirty or forty. It seems like word has spread.

"Is this a good or a bad sign?"

IU looks around as well. She had a threesome before, but this is quite different. Even if Seulgi and IU get used at the same time, there are still gonna be at least fifteen guys for each of them.

"Are you backing out?"

IU shakes her head.

"Why would I?"

Seulgi chuckles. She is nervous, but tries to hide it.

"Let's make another bet. Whoever makes the most guys cum in 15 minutes wins. The other person is going to be a free use for everyone."

Ji-eun likes the idea. She imagines all those guys taking turns on her and Seulgi, using their bodies as fuck toys.

"Sounds like I'm gonna win."

The older girl is confident. The high school boy is proof of the fact, how tight her pussy can become when she cums. No one survives that.

"But no fucking."

IU looks at Seulgi.

"What?"

"No fucking. Only your mouth and hands."

"Hey, that's boring."

Seulgi scoffs.

"You are not up for that?"

IU rolls her eyes.

"Fine. Watch and learn."

She walks inside, all heads turn towards her as Seulgi follows quickly after.

"Hi, everyone!"

IU waves.

"I guess the two of us don't need to introduce ourselves. You all know, why you are here?"

She sees everyone nod their heads.

While IU talks, Seulgi let's her eyes roam the room once more. Now that she is inside, she can count properly. She stops at 31 as her eyes falls on to a man, who is standing further back. He is a little taller than most of the guys in the room. She sees his biceps underneath the sleeves of his shirt, the bulge in his pants visible, without him even having a hard on.

Seulgi licks her lips. This is going to be a fun evening. Because she zoned out for a couple of moments, she didn't catch what IU was saying.

But when suddenly all of the guys start walking towards them, Seulgi immediately feels her panties getting damp. This is it. In the back of her mind, she still has a little bit of doubt left. It vanishes soon though as the first guy reaches her.

She sees IU kneeling down next to her, Seulgi does the same. The sound of ten guys opening the zippers of their pants almost makes Seulgi drool. She watches the first guys pulling their pants down, taking their cocks out.

Seulgi glances at the clock, about to start their bet. But IU is already reaching forward, taking hold of the first man's cock.

"Are these all for me? So nice of you."

She coos as she holds another man's dick with her other hand.

Seulgi doesn't want to fall behind. She reaches for the man nearest to her, pulling him forward by his cock.

"If everyone is gonna be as big you...."

She trails off, feeling the guy getting harder in her hand.

Seulgi decides to use her mouth early. She takes the man's cock into her mouth, savouring the taste. At the same time, the other guys around her make her use her hands.

By now, pretty much all the guys have gotten rid of their pants and are standing around the two women. IU is starting to suck off her first guy as well, both her hands busy with stroking two other men.

Seulgi closes her eyes as she hears everyone moan, occasionally switching cocks. There are five guys directly standing around her right now. More than enough to enjoy herself.

She is excited as she feels everyone's stares on her. This is something entirely different than singing and dancing on stage. And yet, it makes her equally happy. That rush of adrenaline makes her suck the guy's cock even faster.

IU takes another man into her mouth, savouring the new taste. Wearing this this suit might not have been the best idea, because they guys can't have easy access. But she still feels someone from behind sneaking his hands around her waist. She moans around the cock in her mouth as she feels someone rub the fabric over pussy.

Seulgi is starting to suffer the same fate as IU. The guys around her start touch her body, making her squirm underneath them. All the attention makes her wet as hell, wishing they would fuck her already. Why did she make that bet with IU?

She regrets it now as the first guys let's his hand sneak inside her shorts. His strong fingers make Seulgi moan around the cock in her mouth. The man who she is blowing puts his hand onto her head, unable to resist the urge to cum in her mouth much longer.

IU has driven one of the guys who stand around her to a similar level of arousal. He is pushing her head onto his cock, while her two hands are still busy, stroking the four guys on her sides, switching occasionally.

Seulgi let's out a surprised gasp when she feels the first man cuming. But it's not the cock in her mouth, but one of the guys on her right. She was stroking his cock up until now. His warm cum hits her pretty face, making her moan around the dick in her mouth. It makes that guy cum too. He shoots his load down her throat. Seulgi feels like she is in heaven. The warm sperm on her right cheek makes her sigh in pleasure as she turns towards the next guy, ready to suck him off.

IU is keeping up with Seulgi, making the first guy cum in her mouth. She swallows all of it immediately, ready to give another guy head. The guy on her left is trying to take her jacket off, which makes it harder for her to use her hands. Eventually, she gets rid of that useless piece of clothing, feeling two hands unbuttoning her shirt.

Seulgi feels someone's hand dip a finger inside her pussy. She has been unable to keep her hands off herself for these last two weeks and yet she melts at his touch.

Ji-eun keeps sucking off the guy in front of her, until she feels someone cuming on her hand. She looks to her right, letting his dick fall out of her mouth. She licks her hand clean, before taking the guy who just came into her mouth. His cum tastes delicious as she cleans his cock, hoping she can make him cum again soon.

Seulgi feels a pair of hands groping her tits underneath her grey top.

Still with another man's cock in her mouth, she turns her head towards him. With a seductive stare, she eggs him on to slide his hands underneath the fabric.

Seulgi let's her tongue swirl around the top of the cock in her mouth as she feels her nipples being pinched. The other man is now inserting a second finger into her wet snatch. This was supposed to be a competition on how many guys they can get off, not how many guys can get her off.

Either way, Seulgi tries her best to outcompete IU as she feels several hands on her body.

The older woman feels how the fingers on her covered center now start to make her pants wet. Her panties are already drenched, this many men around her too much for her mind to handle. Ji-eun never felt this good.

Someone is now letting her white shirt slip off her shoulder, exposing the lack of a bra. Her upper body is only covered by her tie, which doesn't hide much. Multiple hands make use of her newly exposed skin, some pinching her nipples, while others let their hands wander over her body.

The sight of the naked celebrity in front of him makes the guy in her mouth climax. IU feels his cum paint her mouth as she gulps it down, already looking for her next victim.

"Oh fuck."

The guy in front of Seulgi groans as she pulls him out of her mouth.

"Oh yeah. Paint my face."

Seulgi closes her eyes and sticks her tongue out. Two quick strokes later, she feels his cum staining her skin. Some of it hits her nose, but most lands on her lips and tongue.

"Good boy."

Seulgi winks at him as she cleans her lips with her tongue, making sure she doesn't waste a drop.

Once she opens her mouth again, she is surprised when two guys thrust into her at the same time. Seulgi never sucked off two guys at once, her competitiveness showing as she starts without hesitation. She is going to win this bet and she is going to humiliate IU, until she admits that Seulgi is the bigger slut.

At the same time, IU has another man cuming in her mouth. She almost chokes at the amount of cum he forces down her throat. Once she let's his cock fall out of her mouth with a loud pop, she feels a hand roughly grabbing her tie. Still on her knees, she gets turned around, faced with another hard cock. The guy's hand is still holding her black tie as he pulls her towards him, making Ji-eun take his cock.

Seulgi is unable to speak or do anything properly with her mouth as she tries her best to keep the two dicks inside of her. Only her tongue is able to swirl around their tips occasionally. The two guys keep thrusting into Seulgi's mouth with no intention on stopping anytime soon.

IU's mouth is being used as well. The men in the room starting to grow more confident. You don't have a lot of chances to get a blowjob from Seulgi or IU.

That being said, the guy in the older woman's mouth uses this rare chance to finally cum in her mouth. This must already be the third time she is swallowing someone's load. IU is barely able to keep up with counting. Her hands are slowly starting to get tired after stroking so many guy's cocks. She glanced at the clock. Seven minutes to go. How can she win this bet? She sees Seulgi sucking off two guys at once. Needy slut. IU watches for a moment as they both cum inside Seulgi. They make the younger woman choke as they fill her throat.

Once they are done and take a step back, Seulgi breathes heavily, some of their jizz got onto her face. As she wipes it off, she sees someone else standing in front of her. The guy she noticed earlier. He seems even taller, now that she is kneeling.

Seulgi scoops up some of the cum on her face with a finger, before licking it off with her tongue.

He hasn't taken his jeans off, but Seulgi already knows how big he must be. She reaches forward, fumbling with the belt. A guy on her right starts rubbing his cock all over her face, which makes her stick her tongue out. Seulgi keeps eye contact with the guy in front.

"Come here."

IU whispers towards one of the guys to her left, before starting to get rid off her pants. Seulgi said she is not allowed to use her pussy. No one said something about anal. The guy is not the biggest, which makes him perfect for this. As much as IU is used to have a cock up her ass, she always needs to adjust at first.

"Fuck my ass. Cum in me."

She slips off her grey panties, throwing them to the side. They are heavy and wet with her juices. She sees one of the guys pick it up and wrap it around his cock, before stroking himself with it.

IU feels a familiar tingle inside her body as she lies on her back. All the guys above her look down on her. The man who is supposed to fuck her is now kneeling between her legs, another above her head. The latter pushes his dick down, making Ji-eun take him into her mouth.

The guy between her legs rests his tip against her puckered hole, before slowly starting to push forward. IU moans around the dick in her mouth as she feels how her ass is getting stretched out.

"Fuck. You are so tight."

Seulgi turns to her left after hearing the man groan.

"Yah! Unnie!"

The younger woman stares at IU, who is lying on her back, getting her ass fucked. Her mouth is too full to answer.

Seulgi is about to say more as the big guy in front of her grabs her head and turns her towards her. He got rid of his boxers while she was distracted. Seulgi only manages a gasp, before he pulls her onto his cock.

With one forceful thrust he is already halfway down her throat. Seulgi gags and chokes. Even if she would've been prepared for this, she couldn't have taken so much at once. She feels her jaw getting heavy as the guy fucks her face. He uses her throat like a fleshlight, pounding a way like there is no tomorrow.

Seulgi feels her throat starting to get soar as tears start rolling down her cheeks. She is realizing that this is one of the roughest face fucks she ever had. But definitely not the last one.

His big cock keeps hitting the back of her throat, making Seulgi struggle for air. But he doesn't let go of her head, which means she can't back away.

The fingers in her pussy curl upwards, making her lower body tingle with pleasure. The combination of getting face fucked and fingered pushes Seulgi towards her limit. She never expected to be in this situation. On her knees, surrounded by almost ten guys. All of them stroking their cocks to her getting her throat bruised and her pussy played with.

Seulgi has to close her eyes, tears keep falling from underneath her eyelashes. They mix with her make up and the cum from earlier, turning her once flawless face into an absolute mess. The mixture starts to drip down her skin. Together with her saliva that spills out of her mouth. She is unable to close it. Her body feels numb as she is on the brink of orgasm as she gets the face fucking of her life.

IU's cheating has left her mind a while ago, her brain empty except for the pleasure she is feeling. And how soar her throat is. Seulgi doubts she is able to sing tomorrow. Or even the whole week if this continues.

She hears IU's voice over her own gags, but her own mouth is too loud to hear what the older woman is saying.

"Fuck, yes! Give me your cum!"

Ji-eun moans as she sees two guys on both her sides, stroking their cocks, ready to cum. The guy in her ass keeps her mind in a weird state of bliss as she feels like she is in heaven. The man who was fucking her mouth is replaced by another, who starts where he left of.

How many guys did she already suck off? Five maybe?

IU moans as around the new cock in her mouth. The two men start to cum all over her body. They cover IU's skin in warmth. Her chest, her tummy, her throat. All of it.

While IU keeps getting fucked, Seulgi feels someone from behind, who is starting to pull her shorts down.

Because the guy who is fucking her face is taller, she had to get on her knees to reach his cock. That means her white shorts can be slipped off easily.

Seulgi feels a pair of hands tug at her pink thong. The rubbing of her clit pauses for a moment, almost making Seulgi climax untouched.

The man who is holding her head in place gives Seulgi a second to relax. He pulls about halfway out, letting his cock rest on her tongue. She takes heavy breaths, trying to prepare herself for the next face fucking.

Another hand begins to play with her pussy as she feels the cock in her mouth starting to move again. This time, he doesn't fuck her fast. It's one slow, forceful thrust after another. It makes her head rock back everytime, before he pulls her onto his cock again.

Seulgi reaches the same state of pleasure as she did before. Hanging on the edge of her orgasm, she takes the face fucking like a champ, trying to keep eye contact with the man who is mercilessly using her.

Seulgi feels a pair of hands grope her butt. She is excited at first, but then, she feels someone's cock touch her rear entrance. She tries to shake her head, but the hands on head won't let her. She was never really the anal type. Plus, she doesn't want to cheat like IU does.

She doesn't have a choice. As the men around her see her struggle, they take holds of her wrists and guide her hands towards their cocks. Seulgi is unable to defend herself.

The cock down her throat, the fingers inside her pussy and now the tip of some man's cock in her ass. It all proves too much for Seulgi. Her shriek is muffled by the man in front of her as she cums around someone's fingers.

Seulgi's body shakes as she practically gets spitroasted. With every thrust into her mouth, she gets pushed onto the cock in her ass. With every thrust from the man inside her ass, she is getting forced to choke around the cock in her mouth.

She realizes how hot this must look for the others as she feels someone nutting on her grey top. His cum stains the fabric and Seulgi is reminded of the bet.

For a moment, she lost sight of the goal, just enjoying these men, having their way with her. But as much as Seulgi likes this situation, she still needs to make more guys cum than IU.

"Yes! Fill my ass up!"

Ji-eun moans loudly as she feels the cock in her ass starting to throb. In that moment, the guy above her climaxes, cuming all over her face. IU gasps as the unexpected facial hits her.

Before she is able to clean her face with her tongue and her fingers, the man between her legs cums inside of her.

"Oh fuck!"

Another moan escapes her cum stained lips as she feels his load paint the insides of her ass.

"Fuck! Please slow down!"

Seulgi screams. Half in pleasure, half in pain. The guy who is fucking her ass is the same guy who fucked her face so good a couple of minutes ago. He left a huge facial on her face, before giving others the chance to enjoy her mouth. Now, he is standing behind Seulgi, after getting her off the floor.

Her legs feel like jelly as she takes his pounding from behind. Her hands are useless by now, just loosely wrapped around two guy's cocks.

Another guy now steps in front of her to shut her up.

"You are too big for my ass."

She whines, hoping he would slow down, before another cock pushes past her lips.

Seulgi needily sucks on it, trying to blend out the pain in her ass. She has been used by so many guys now. She lost proper count a while ago. And if she would've looked up to check the time, she would have realized that the fifteen minutes were over fifteen minutes ago.

But Seulgi is too busy getting stuffed with cock from both ends. The black hairband she used to make a ponytail is barely holding up. Her hair looks like it's in a messy bun by now. Drops of white cum decorate her black, silk like hair.

IU is taking two cocks at the same time, too. But she is in a different position. She is placed on all fours in a circle of about ten guys. They all take turns fucking her ass and thrusting into her mouth.

The guy who is currently using her throat holds her tie in his hand, making her choke, whenever he gives it a light tug. The fact that she is getting choked makes IU even hornier. It would be something worthy of exploring later. Is she into getting choked?

Her thoughts are interrupted, when the man in her ass shoots his load. Ji-eun can almost feel how her body becomes heavier. This is the fourth time they came in her ass. If she counted correctly, she made them climax around 23 times already. There is more than enough proof all over her body.

A couple of minutes ago, someone used her still soaked panties to tie her hair back. Someone came on them beforehand. But instead of being disgusted, IU wonders if that counts as making them cum.

"I'm gonna gonna cum in your ass, bitch."

It's the first time the man behind her talked to Seulgi. Her dripping wet pussy craves his cock as he keeps fucking her ass. Because her mouth is closed, Seulgi can't answer. She feels someone's hand now rubbing her clit.

Another hand slaps her right ass cheeks. She doesn't know if that was the guy who is fucking her or someone else. The sting causes her to moan around the cock in her mouth.

"Fuck!"

The guy behind her groans, before he pumps Seulgi's ass full with cum. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as her legs almost give out. His warm cum in her ass makes her see stars.

After he leaves her freshly fucked hole, Seulgi does her best to recover. She remembers that she set a time limit on their bet. She checks the clock on the wall. They have been doing this for over thirty minutes now?

"Unnie! Time's up!"

Seulgi's voice sounds hoars after she removed the cock out of her mouth.

IU tells everyone to stop what they are doing. Seulgi has to kneel down again, her legs too weak to carry her.

Ji-eun slowly walks over to her. She feels cum leak out of her ass. Everyone is staring at the pair, waiting to find out who lost.

"So?"

Seulgi looks up at IU. The older woman is still wearing her tie, her hair now held back by her panties. Her body is covered in cum, wherever you look. Her face, her tummy, her chest, her feet.

Seulgi looks similarly used. Her back is still warm from the load of cum she got, while someone fucked her ass from behind.

"25 now."

Seulgi's eyes widen. She didn't expect it to be this close.

"Wow, unnie. You are no slouch."

Ji-eun raises an eye brow.

"Why do you sound so happy?"

"27."

"What?"

"I made them cum twenty seven times."

Seulgi feels someone's cum drip out of her freshly fucked ass and onto her legs. She grins up at IU, who is looking at her with anger and surprise written on her face.

"You know what that means, right?"

IU nods hesitantly.

"Let's tie her up boys."

Seulgi chuckles as she sees someone grabbing IU's wrists and holding them behind her back.

"What-?"

She tries to struggle against his grip, but Seulgi shakes her head.

"You can't run away, unnie. You are now officially a free-use whore."

Before she can reply, someone already stuffed her mouth with a piece of silk. She only realises a moment later that she has Seulgi's pink thong in her mouth. Someone is covering her mouth, so she can't spit it out.

IU's tie is finally gone too, now being used as a way to tie her hands together. She tries to resist, but the guys around her are way taller and stronger than her. Ji-eun sees someone getting a chair from one of the corners of the practice room.

Seulgi suggested this location. It's Red Velvet's former place of learning choreos, when they were rookies. They used a second room outside of the SM building. No one uses it anymore.

When someone sits her down, IU stares at everyone around her. The about forty guys wait for Seulgi's first move.

"You two,"

Seulgi points at two guys on her left.

"Suck on her tits."

They do as she says, both stepping on either side of IU. The older woman moans into Seulgi's panties as she they lean over her. They both wrap their lips around her nipples, sucking on them. The occasional bite makes her squirm in the chair.

"I feel like the gag is now making her too quiet."

Some of the guys nod in agreement.

Seulgi reaches forward to take her panties out of IU's mouth.

"Don't forget, you still have to admit that I'm the better slut."

IU would've stuck her her tongue out, but is currently unable to do so. The two guys working on her tits make her sigh and mewl.

Ji-eun's eyes widen in surprise as she feels Seulgi working on her pussy. It feels weird as she tries to look down, wanting to know what's going on. The guys' heads are blocking her view.

Her head sinks back as she feels Seulgi pushing her thong into the older woman's pussy. A deep moan escapes her lips, once the piece of silk is completely buried inside of her.

"You always bragged about how tight your pussy is. Let's see if that's still the case."

She turns around.

"Guys, I want you to stretch her out like crazy."

IU moves her head to be able to see what's going on. The first guy is already standing in front of her, his cock in his hand.

"Wait. First pull out-Fuck!"

IU moans loudly as he pushes half of his cock inside her with one thrust. She can't tell yet, if Seulgi's panties make her feel better or not. But IU can't help but squirm even more as the man starts to fuck her.

She feels fuller than usual as the guy pushes fully into her stuffed pussy. Together with the two guys who keep playing with her chest, he makes Ji-eun see stars.

She realises this is only the beginning, when another guy steps forward. He grabs IU's ponytail, forcing her down. She automatically opens her mouth, ready to suck his cock. It has become an instinct for her by now. Without even thinking about it, she starts to suck him off.

The two men stop sucking her tits as they both watch how the new guy makes her bob her head up and down on his cock. He and the guy who fucks her stand side by side.

Seulgi looks around them, trying to see what's going on. She feels a pair of hands wrap around her waist. She looks up, seeing the man who just came in her ass.

"You still don't have enough?"

Her cheeky grin makes him chuckle.

"I never expected you to be such a whore."

His cock is now resting between her cheeks. Now that she feels it again, Seulgi can't believe how his dick fit in her ass.

"And this is probably the only chance I'm ever gonna get. So I want all of your holes."

Seulgi leans her head on his chest.

"Take me then."

She feels him aligning his cock with her pussy. He slowly pushes inside, making Seulgi moan. Her half open eyes see, how the guy who is fucking IU is cuming inside her pussy. She hears the older girl's moans as he pulls out and leaves. A moment later, the next guy stands in front of her.

Seulgi can't believe what she has done. What she is still doing. What would her members say to this? She chuckles as she thinks about Yeri's nature. The maknae would probably follow her example.

Her smile is wiped off Seulgi's face as the man behind her increases his pace. His thick cock makes her body heat up as he almost hugs her into his chest.

Seulgi is almost standing on his toes, only his hips working overtime. He has his face in her neck, kissing her skin.

IU moans as another man walks forward. The man who just came in her mouth already left, leaving her throat all sticky. She would've begged for a break, but she knows that Seulgi won't give her one. Although the younger girl is currently occupied with getting fucked, IU dismisses the idea.

She invitingly opens her mouth, before the guy even reaches her. Instead of pushing his scock into her mouth, he takes a hold of her ponytail. Only now, IU realises that he has been stroking his cock while he approached her. His cum is now painting her face, leaving another layer of jizz.

IU moans as the warmth hits her face. At the same time the man in her pussy cums as well. He shoots his load into IU, giving her a second cream pie within a couple of minutes.

"Just... Just give me a second."

Seulgi breathes heavily, almost missing her chance to humiliate IU even further. Slowly, she manages to get of the guy's chest she was leaning on. Standing in front of the older woman, Seulgi reaches down. Her freshly fucked pussy already oozes with cum. She has to fumble around a little, before finally finding her own thong deep inside Ji-eun's cunt.

IU whines as Seulgi slowly pulls it out. There is no sign of the fact that the silk was pink once. It's stained with IU's juices and the other guy's cum.

"They are gonna fuck you for real now."

IU shakes her head, knowing what Seulgi is planing. But because her hands are tied, she can't defend herself.

Seulgi pushes her thong into IU's mouth. The older woman tastes the mixture of her own juices and two loads of cum.

"Take it like the whore you are, unnie. I don't want to hear any complains, once I'm back."

She turns around, taking the hand of the guy, who just fucked her.

"Come with me."

And with that she leaves IU alone with the forty guys. Bound to the chair, unable to yell after her. She sees some of them start to walk towards her.

"Seulgi!"

Her muffled screams stay unheard as Seulgi and her special friend enter the practice room next door.

"I have two more hours until I have to be back at the dorm."

She slings her arms around his neck, grinding her naked center against his cock.

"I want you to fuck me until then."

How long has it been already?

IU can't tell, the clock is hanging on the wall behind her. 30 minutes? An hour?

She would've thought the guys would stop at one point, but she is proven wrong. This is their only chance to fuck Lee Ji-eun however they want. They can use every single one of her holes.

Korea's number one celebrity isn't even sitting on the chair anymore. They started to take turns with sitting in the chair, making IU sit in their laps.

She never experienced having all three of her holes stuffed with cock. But that's the case right now. The man who's lap she is sitting on is thrusting upwards into her ass. The man in front of her is fucking her pussy. Another has placed both of his hands on her head, forcing her to lean to her left.

IU doesn't know how long it has been since she was able to talk. There are still three guys standing in line behind the guy who is fucking her face.

She also doesn't know how often all of them came, since Seulgi left. Probably all of them at least once or twice. Maybe even more. That would make at least forty to eighty times.

That could be the reason why about fifty percent of IU's skin is covered in cum. Her tits and her midriff are full with it, but they still don't compare to her face. She feels like she has several layers of make up on. Her hair probably wasn't spared either.

And how many cream pies did she already get? At least a quarter of their loads. She must have swallowed so much cum by now. Probably more than a liter or two.

Ji-eun moans around the cock in her mouth as she climaxes once again. Her pussy pulsates around the cock in her, making the man cum in her snatch. She even lost count of how many times she came.

Where the fuck is Seulgi?

"Oh god! Oh god! Oh god!"

Seulgi mumbles and moans. She is lying on the sofa in the corner of the second practice room. The man she took with her is fucking her missionary style. His hand is in her hair, forcing her upper body to lift off the couch.

"Gonna cum!"

Her warning is almost too late. Seulgi climaxes right after the last word leaves her mouth. Her pussy grips onto his cock as he keeps fucking her through her orgasm. Her body is covered in sweat and cum. How often did he make her cum already?

Seulgi moans as she is taken toward another high. She feels his cock suddenly leave her pussy, before he pushes against her puckered hole. The young woman moans and whines as he starts to switch with every thrust. First her pussy, then her ass hole and then her pussy again.

Seulgi can't do anything but lie there, feeling her holes getting used in such an unholy manner.

She is a mumbling mess underneath him, feeling his cock in her ass and then in her pussy again.

Her eyes rest on his sweat covered body as she feels him trying to hold back his climax. As they lock eyes, they both know that this is the last one. The pair is too drained to go on much longer.

"On my face. I want it on my face."

The man nods, unable to form words. Seulgi's ass too tight for him to think straight.

He manages to switch between her holes for a couple of times, before he finally pulls out once and for all.

With awkward movements, Seulgi manages to push herself off the couch. Her limbs feel like pudding, her energy barely enough to keep her eyes open.

He strokes himself to climax as he stares at Seulgi in front of him.

How is she still able to look this cute?

That thought rushes through his head, right before he orgasms. His load isn't as big as it used to. Seulgi's pussy has claimed more of it for itself already.

It's still enough to make her sigh with pleasure though. The warm cum covers her nose and cheeks.

IU opens her eyes. She looks around the room, realizing that she is the only one. And a moment later she recognizes her bedroom. How did she get here?

She hears someone in the kitchen, fumbling with the pans.

Ji-eun tries to get up. Her body feels soar all over. She feels like she has been hit by a truck. Her body seems to be clean on the outside, but not on the inside. She can feel someone's cum in her pussy and ass. Her throat is still sticky, making it hard to breathe.

IU can't even remember how many guys came in her throat as she reaches for the glass of water on her night stand.

Her feet barely lift off the ground as she stumbles into the kitchen, only wearing a robe.

Seulgi seems to be making egg fried rice.

"Hello, sleepyhead."

Seulgi chuckles at IU's perplexed look on her face.

"I brought you here after you passed out. Do you know how long it took me to get all of that cum off your skin?"

IU shakes her head.

Seulgi pours the rice into two bowls.

"I have good news."

Ji-eun is only able to sit down at the counter, waiting for Seulgi to hand her a spoon.

"I found someone knew to compete with us."

IU looks up. Her eyes still look sleepy and tired and exhausted. And yet, Seulgi is able to catch a glimpse of lust in them.

"Who?"

"She should be here any minute."

In that moment the doorbell rings.

"She and her members had a similar competition. Like the two of us. She won and is looking for women, who are on her level. I told her we got fucked by forty guys at the same time."

Seulgi says as she walks towards the door.

"I-I'm not sure if I can start having sex again immediately. Maybe give me a couple of days."

IU's tired, hoarse voice makes Seulgi chuckle.

"Don't worry. Me and Jennie already have something planned for the two of us."

She opens the door.

"Hi Seulgi!"

Jennie and Seulgi hug each other.

"Ready to go to the movies?"

"Yeah, just let me eat dinner."

"What?"

Only now IU realises what time it is. She slept the whole day.

"Hi, unnie."

Jennie waves at her. The older woman takes a look at her outfit. She immediately knows that watching a movie will not be the only thing they do in the cinema.

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

(Alternative ending)

Hi everyone!

I hope you enjoy the first story of the December special.

I haven't written something like this before, so I'm not sure how well it turned out. I did my best to write a good build up, because I didn't want to jump straight into the main part.

Have a great day! See you next week for the second one!

[magics-neptunes-things]

Secret Love II

So, here we are with the second part! I don't really where I'm going with it right now to be honest, so I'm just gonna I’ll just let my imagination run wild.

Thanks for your reviews, don't hesitate leave me some, it always makes me very happy to know what you think of my writings :)

Enjoy!

P.S Part one is HERE

____________________________________________________________

A few hours after leaving your hotel room, you return there hoping to be as discreet as you were before. On tiptoe, you reach your bed and slip under the covers, your mind always with Alexia. She also went to her room, you both agreed that it was important to enjoy the last hours of sleep before dawn. While you are looking for sleep, you don't realize that Ona’s breathing is no longer as deep as when you left, indicating that she is awake.

"... going to be late!"

Ona’s voice comes to you like through a fog and you need a few blinks of eyes to finally fix your gaze on her face.

"Breakfast is in seven minutes, you know how is Vilda with late people"

Oh man. You jump of your bed, frantically searching for your clothes by making more mess than anything else. You sprint in the bathroom to wash your face and comb your hair in a messy bun, trying to get the sleep of your face.

"Ona go, don't be let yourself" you say to your roomate.

"You sure?" she asked, popping her head by the door.

"Yeah"

"Ok. Your shirt is upside down."

You swear before you put it right, jump in your sneakers and go out slamming the door of the room. Obviously the elevator doors close a few meters from you, so you decide to take the stairs. It’s a miracle you’re on time and you're not even the last one.

You spot Alexia, sitting next to Jenni and Irene, with the same fresh, rested look as if she had slept 12 hours straight. This woman, you thought, before serving you a breakfast tray and looking for a free place.

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

"Y/N what's that?"

You turn around but Aitana had time to have a close look to the hickey Alexia made two days ago. Her loud question made everyone turn around, even if you all were supposed to be focused on your strength exercises.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, your mind racing while looking for a good excuse.

"You got a bruise on your neck"

At this point those who were furthest away turned their attention to their exercises, but you feel that the look of several of your teammates burning your back. You crossed Alexia's eyes for a second and open the mouth to talk, but another voice answers before you.

"It must have been when you fell while getting ready, the morning you were late. I thought she was gonna break her neck."

The second sentence is more for Aitana than for you, but she seems to accept this answer with even a small laugh before grabbing his dumbbell again. It's Ona's look that you cross this time and since you don’t know what to tell her, you’re starting to do your exercises again.

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

"So, you and Alexia uh?"

You were back in your room, reading a book while listening some music. It was free time but it was so cold outside that you didn't want to go out for now. Ona had said nothing until now, even during the meal time when you found yourself sitting in front of her. Even if you knew the subject was coming at some point, you appreciate the fact that she chooses to be sure she isn’t being heard by anyone to bring the subject.

"Well... Maybe"

You can't fight back the smile on your face and your vague answer seems to be enough for your roommate.

"Who knows?" she asked.

"No one, apart from Alexia’s mother."

"Even Jenni?"

You bite your lip and shakes your head. You know Alexia want to talk about it with Jenni, she's her bestfriend after all. But you had a rule and she just get with it.

"We got together six months after I arrived in Barcelona, I had a hard time understanding what was happening the first time she tried to flirt with me."

You smile in spite of yourself, the flirting was not necessarily the strong of Alexia but you always found it touching.

"And then we broke up when we lost against Wolfsburg, she thought our relationship was what kept her from focusing on the game and the win."

You swallow with difficulty, these memories being particularly dark for both of you. But now that you’ve started talking about your story, you can’t stop. Especially since the Catalan seems to be an excellent listener.

"After that we lost the final... It was awful. I spent every second trying not to look at her, not to show anything to anyone. No one knew and they thought I was disappointed that we lost the final when I was in reality heartbroken."

Lost in your thoughts, your gaze on your hands, you notice only when you feel her presence that Ona left her bed to sit next to you. She places her hand on your arm and you look up at her smiling, which must probably seem strange to her given with what you're saying after.

"Weeks and months passed and we found ourselves training for the Euro. And you certainly don’t need me to remind you what happened with her ACL."

Ona’s grimace speaking of herself, you continue, leaning against the wall behind you.

"I wrote her several times to tell her that I was thinking about her, but she didn't answer. I didn't expect her though, I knew that she had cut contact with almost everyone. But when we were eliminated and I returned to Barcelona, I found her one time on my doormat. She was... I never saw her like that Ona. She was destroyed."

The memory of this moment gives you shivers and you shake yourself mentally to return to the present.

"I let her in and she talked about her insecurities. She told me she was supposed to be in rehab in 15 minutes, but she didn’t want to go. She felt that it was useless and that she would never play again. So I threatened to call her mother and took her there. That’s when we started seeing each other again and got back together soon after."

There was a small silence, during which Ona seemed to digest the information you had just given her. With frowns, she looks at you thoughtfully when answering.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it was this deep. And I’m sorry you both had to go through this without being able to tell anyone."

"It's in the past now. I can't talk for her but she makes me really happy. You really saved us this morning, but please keep it to yourself for now"

"I will"

She smiles and you kiss her cheek before she gets up to go to the bathroom. Thinking it's better to inform Alexia, you take your phone.

You - Can you talk?

Mi Reina ♥ - Yes, what's up?

You - Ona knows about us, I kind of just told her everything.

Mi Reina ♥ - Well she kind of cover you up this morning so it was obvious Guapa

You - Sorry if my girlfriend can't keep her lips to herself :)

Mi Reina ♥ - Touché.

Mi Reina ♥ - Can I talk to Jenni about us, since Ona knows?

You - If you want to, it's ok for me.

The next day, it didn’t take you long to realize that Alexia had spoken to Jenni. You have surprised the gaze of the striker several times, examining you with a thoughtfulness look. Every time you catch her looking at you, you were foolishly blushing and it was only when Alexia slapped her head that she stopped looking at you.

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

Time pass and here you are, at the final of the World Cup. The more you advanced in the tournament, the harder it was to manage time for you and Alexia. But you had a few moments, thanks to Jenni and Ona who covered you a few times. You didn’t escape Jenni’s threatening conversation, based on "Hurt my best friend and you won’t see the light of the day again" but other than that she seems to have given you her blessing.

You were in the locker room once again, but this time it was the Final. You were playing against England, your last game of the tournament. You're not really listening what Vilda is saying, focused on your boots. You start the match, next to Alexia, Ona, Jenni and your others teammates. You’re stressed, you can’t wait for the game to start now.

You haven't forget the promise Alexia made this night in your hotel, but you haven't bring to topic again. Even if it doesn't happend, you couldn't be more happy.

What it seems an eternity later, you were on the fields and the referee was blowing in her whistle. You made it, you were World Champions. Tears of joy and relief invaded your eyes and you find yourself caught in a collective embrace, without really knowing who is tight against you. Cries of joy, tears and the cheering of the crowd around you seem to come from far away.

When you are able to stand up, you find yourself facing Ona who also huggs you before mumbling "I have to find Lucy". Of course she have to, not matter what is her relationship with her, they are really close.

You search for a particular person too, your eyes scanning around for pink hair. When you spot Alexia, she's on the ground and Jenni is helping her to stand up.

A bit like in a dream, you start running towards her before throwing yourself in her arms. The mix of emotion makes you feel like you’re floating when you wrap your legs around her waist and she hugs you back.

"We did it" you say, while she keeps you in her arms.

"Yes we did" she answers, with the most beautiful smile in her face.

If you weren't already madly in love with her, you'll probably fall again right now.

"So… What now?" you asked soflty after some seconds of silence you passed admiring her.

"I'm going to kiss you."

And she did, barely letting you the time to understand what she said. Keeping you in her arms, she approaches her face to yours and places her lips on yours, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Of course you hear exclamations of surprise around you, but you can’t focus on anything other than Alexia. She ends up putting you down, letting go your lips for a few seconds to catch her breath. You then kiss her a few seconds later, drawing her as close as possible.

You may have won the World Cup, but ultimately your greatest victory is her.

[olsenmyolsen]

You Have Me For The Night (18+)

master list

dark master list

MCU AU (Female Reader X WandaNat)

Summary: You need a job and money. Luckily, Natasha Romanoff knows exactly what you can do.

Word Count: 11.7K

Content: Heavy Smut! Sex!!! Fingering, Mommy Kink, Daddy Kink, Edging, Begging, Strap, Praise, switch!Wanda, Transactional Relationship, Corruption kink(?), Oral, Handjob, Aftercare, Feelings

Also special thanks to @lesbianpizza for their help from time to time ❤️

Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff were stuck, and they knew it.

To be more specific, their marriage was stuck.

They loved each other deeply and cared for one another more than themselves. But between training, missions, and the workload of it all. They never ended up on the same page. Or together. In fact, it had been weeks upon weeks since Natasha had touched Wanda and vice versa.

So when week five turned into six. Both of the women felt like they were losing it. Wanda wanted to cry because Nat was across the globe while Natasha wanted to capture their mark and kill the man who made her miss her very spicy scheduled FaceTime call with her little Wands.

But here's where you come in.

You see. You've always been.. flexible. Open-minded.

And with a little download of a very specific new app and a background check using SHIELD encrypted servers led one wife... renting... you for the other.

But we're getting a little ahead of ourselves. So let's back it up a bit and show what happened before you pulled up to a lovely house in upstate New York.

"How's the job hunt going?" Your best friend and roommate Ava Starr asked, making you sigh. Truth be told, since your girlfriend up and left you five months ago for her coworker Jean. You haven't done much of anything. I mean, you cried and got angry and cried again. Got sad. Thought about adopting a cat. But didn't and then cried about not adopting the cat. On top of that, since your father's recent death, you've been coasting off his inheritance. But that money was slowly disappearing.

Hence, the job hunt.

"Oh, it's going.." You reply while you skim through Netflix before switching to Hulu, not satisfied with any of the options. Ava huffs from the kitchen before entering the living room and yanking the Roku remote from your hand, turning the TV off. "Hey!" You barely moved from your laying position on the couch.

Ava walks in front of you, making you eye level with her legs. "Did you use my razor? Your legs are looking better than normal." "Y/N!" Your roommate exclaims, making you look up to her. "Get up." You shake your head. "No."

"Y/N."

"I don't want to." Ava rolls her eyes at you. "Y/N. Now." You groan loudly and annoyingly before sitting up. "Child." Ava huffs at you before sitting right next to you. "Have you at least gone out?"

You know what Ava is getting at. The have you tried dating or hooking up? Question. "Tuesday night." You reply, making Ava furrow her eyebrows before she closes them. "Y/N. You and I went out for Chinese on Tuesday night!"

"I went out!" You whine. "With me. We're not dating!" Ava yells and pushes your shoulder lovingly. "We could."

"We could what?"

"Date." You wiggle your eyebrows as Ava laughs. "No. We couldn't. You're not my type."

"What to pretty?"

"Too annoying." She beat you there. "Besides. You know what I'm getting at." Ava gets up to check on her pasta. You let your body go limp and slide down the couch, forcing your sweatshirt to ride up, exposing your stomach. "Did you even try the apps I downloaded for you!" Ava yells from the kitchen. You mumble in response to her that she surprisingly hears.

"Maybe you just need something new," Ava spoke as she came into the room again with a bowl in her hand. "Maybe." You reply. "Where's your phone?" Ava asks as you slide back up the couch, pulling your shirt down. "I don't know somewhere ar-"

"I got it."

You shrugged as Ava typed in your password and searched through the App Store for you. She started asking you questions, but you were too focused on stealing her bowl of food to notice. She even slapped your hand away when you weren't being as sneaky as you thought.

"Oh, can it." Says your so-called best friend.

You sniffed loudly as she handed your phone back to you. "What is it?" You asked, looking at an empty profile of yourself. "I downloaded an app called hush. It's supposed to solve the two biggest problems you are doing nothing about. Basically, have sex. Get money."

You looked through the photos of the women on the app and felt your face getting warm. "How did you find out about it?" You asked, unable to pull your eyes away from a blonde woman named Carol. "I didn't. It was new. But the reviews seem to be nothing but praise. Plus, only women are allowed to use it. I think it connects to your phone account or something.. I don't know... I just signed you up and hit okay every time a thing popped up." That made you pull your eyes away.

"What if I'm signed up to have like my kidneys harvested or something!?" Ava shrugs at you and spins a forkful of noodles. "It'll be better than to hear you close and reopen Netflix fifteen times a night."

"You're being mean tonight."

"Only because I love you."

You got that right.

You flip through the profile and information tabs. "hush haven for under satisfied hores..?" You did a double-take as you read the words again. Ava snickered while watching you. "They spelled whores wrong." You pointed out, making Ava smack you on the arm.

"Okay, so once I upload my.. pictures.." You look to Ava, who nods along. "And select which category I'm in. Giver or Muse... Then it looks like I wait until someone swipes on me. And then the conversation can start.."

Ava sets her bowl of food down and leans over to help you. "Alright. Let's get to work." She states, forcing you to look at her dumbfounded. "But I was going to look through my.." "Nudes?" She cuts you off. "So what, dude? I've known you half your life. Grow up." Ava makes a point and grabs the phone out of your hand. You don't even try to fight because you get distracted by her pasta. Not wasting another second, you grab it and shove a forkful in your mouth.

"Hey!" Ava finally looks up from the phone. "Come on! I bought dinner on Tuesday." You claim, which Ava rolls her eyes at. "Fine." Ava goes back to your phone before she remembers. "Wait, no, you didn't! I did!"

It's a wonder how you ended up in the bedroom of Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff.

As Ava and you set aside your food-related differences and finish setting up your profile. Across the globe, The Black Widow is sitting in a dingy one-bedroom flat waiting for her ride home after taking down an illegal arms operation.

When her phone rings, she expects it to be Wanda but gets disappointed when it's a bald one-eyed man. "Fury," Natasha says in a manner only she can to a superior. "Romanoff." He replies. "I see you didn't run into any trouble on your little excursion." He smiles, knowing Natasha isn't. "Just the usual. Wasn't even a challenge. I made one guy break his own arm just so he wouldn't have to deal with me."

Fury raises an eyebrow. "I'm sure he was more than happy to do so." Natasha shrugs. "Eh, I still pepper-sprayed him." Natasha leans back in the wooden chair she's in. "So what's the call for?"

"I got some intel on a dark web app called hushquietly launching. Don't know if it's legit. Don't know if it's not. But I figured while I got you waiting on a ride, you could help me out. What do you say, Romanoff?"

Natasha sighs. Nicks got her. "I'll let you know what I find."

"Appreciate it. Say hi to Misses for me when you get home." The line goes dead, and Natasha is left wondering about Wanda. Her smile. Her laugh. Her eyes. Her body. How much she misses her touch. How badly she wants to be with her right now. To feel her.

She dips her back and bites her lip before remembering where she was. "Goddamnit!" Natasha curses and storms off to gather her laptops and get to work.

Safe to say, over the next couple of hours, Natasha couldn't find anything on this so-called hush. The keyword existed but not in a way that would be important to SHIELD or The Avengers. Natasha even scoured the ligament app stores repeatedly, and nothin- "Wait a minute.." Natasha leaned forward and clicked on an app that she could've sworn wasn't there a second ago.

Once the app opened, it was apparent that this was not what Fury was looking for. But.. Natasha didn't stop... She looked over the fine detail of the signup menu and the tagline below.

"A special someone for your special someone."

She looked over the full name of the app before she made sure to think about what she was doing. The line between right and wrong was a little blurry. But the line in the sand was quickly drawn when Natsah's phone went off.

A text from her wife.

"I don't know when you'll see this, Milaya, but I just want you to know that while I think about you every day... right now, I'm thinking about you in a way that makes me cry because you can't fuck me."

Attached was a photo of her Sokovian in Natasha's favorite red lingerie set.

Natasha's fingers hovered over the keys to type a response before stopping herself and smiling.

Not too much later, a message was sent.

Natasha leaned back in her chair, smiling, sipping on a beer. On her laptop was every single thing she could find about you. When everything came up green, and the a-okay was given to Natasha's brain, she let you know your services would be required.

Natasha held her phone and double-checked that the cameras inside and outside the house were in working order.

They were.

"This should be fun."

Ding!

Your phone lit up with a notification from hush. It worked. Whatever you and Ava did worked. "Dude!" Ava looked at the message from a very hot redhead named Natalie. "You have to take this!" You paused your show and looked at the message. You barely skimmed it before you saw the price that was being offered to you. That made you go over and re-read everything Natalie sent.

"I told you the Halloween Catsuit picture would be a good choice!" Ava cheered as you clicked on the pictures of Natalie. You knew the pictures had to be of her. The app ran an algorithm that detected fake/ai photos. So, was Natalie like a model? Or just sculpted by the gods? What did they need you for? 

But as you re-read the message for a third time. You still couldn't believe it.

"Hello Y/N,

I'm just going to cut straight to the chase. I want your services tonight for my wife, Wendy.

I'm away on business, and lately, I haven't been able to give my wife the satisfaction she needs. So, inquiring someone as beautifully stunning as you isn't a wrong place to ask. I'm willing to spend $10,000 for tonight's services and hoping we can bend the rules a little. If you accept, we will discuss more.

Hope to hear from you ;)"

You stared down at your phone, unaware of Ava reading over your shoulder. Your only focus was on three things.

1. Natalie wants you to fuck her wife. 2. She called you beautifully stunning, which means she's seen your pics, and that made you get very, very, very warm. 3. $10,000.

Your phone dinged again as a new message appeared while your brain was processing.

Okay, now there was one more thing on your mind.

Natalie's wife, Wendy.

"After this, I won't be able to send you anything else until you accept. So, with that in mind, Y/N, here's a picture of Wendy from Halloween last year. I thought you might enjoy this since you posted that very sexy Catsuit photo from Halloween. Anyways, cute, right? Just imagine what she's like when she is begging to be fucked like the slut she is."

The accept button was staring at you in the face.

After looking at a picture like that, how could you say no?

"She's gorgeous," Ava spoke up for the both of you. You just nodded before moving your lips. "She is." Then it dawned on you once again."Holy fuck."

Wendy's wife was about to pay you $10,000 to have sex with someone that you'd pay to hurl slurs at you. Not that you think Wendy would, but you get the point.

Natasha's phone beeped on the bedside table where she was staying. She leaned over, wearing nothing but a black t-shirt and bike shorts, having changed after Fury told her that her ride would be delayed.

Anyways. It wasn't Wanda or Fury messaging her.

It was you.

She smiled and felt the giddiness run through her body when she read the words: "I accept."

The money hit your account quicker than you thought possible. Seconds after you accepted Natalie's offer, the money was there.

Along with an address and Natalie's preferences for what you should wear for Wendy.

- No Panties - Black Dress - Black Tights - Black Heels - Peach Lipstick

You didn't know why it had to be peach lipstick, but when you asked Natalie, she told you to "ask Wendy."

Regardless, Ava and you couldn't believe it. You couldn't think that this was actually happening. That this was going to work. Which meant you couldn't believe that you had to tell Ava that she was right for once.

Luckily, Ava didn't let it get to her head. (She did, especially because she just happened to have the peach lipstick you needed.)

Ava offered to drive you to the location typed in, in your maps app, but you've seen the way she drives, and you'd like to arrive in one piece, so you Ubered.

"Couple of minutes out." You messaged "Natalie".

Unbeknownst to you was that Natasha was already tracking you. Laying in bed, one arm propping her up, she watched a little dot, you, arrive closer and closer to the house she and her wife, Wanda, shared.

Natasha could imagine your face sprinkled with curiosity as the Uber made its way up the winding road that was their driveway.

Even better was the fact that Wanda knew nothing. After messaging her wife earlier, she had to be left to her own devices, which was nice and all, but Wanda was missing contact. Her vibrator and fingers could only do so much. She missed the touch of someone on her body. Lips on her own. Fingers in her hair. She needed it and more!

Badly!!

Wanda turned off the living room TV after not paying attention to anything for the last half hour and was ready to head upstairs when her phone started ringing.

Stopping in front of the stairs, she smiled. "Hi, baby!" Wanda giggled, hoping Natasha would be home soon. "Hi detka." Her wife replied. "How are you?" Wanda asked as she ran up the stairs to peel off her sweats she put on following her afternoon activities. "I'm good Wands. Waiting for my ride out. So I'll be home later than scheduled."

Wandastoppedmoving as her pants fell to the ground, revealing the red strap she put on earlier just for Natasha. "Oh.." The disappointment in Wanda's voice was evident. "Wanda-" "No, it's okay, Tasha. I get it." Wanda sadly took off her top and was about to remove the harness when Natasha's voice spoke up on speaker. "Stop what you're doing!"

Wanda froze her movement. "Don't take that off!" Natasha spoke again. "How did- cameras." Even though Wanda couldn't see it, her wife smiled. "Turn around for me, beautiful." Wanda took her hands off the strap and turned around to the camera in the corner of the ceiling. Smiling at it when she saw the red light glowing underneath it.

Natasha was watching.

"Was that for me?" Natasha smirked. "It was."Wanda grabbed the phone and walked around to the side of the bed, bringing herself closer to the camera. Leaning back so Natasha gets the full of view of her naked wife with a 7" red silicone cock.

"What was my little witch planning on doing with it?" Natasha asked, knowing full damn well. Wanda playfully rolled her eyes at the nickname.

"I think only good girls who come home are allowed to know," Wanda spoke as she turned around, showing off her big smooth ass. Working out with a spy has its benefits.

"So if I were there, you'd do something about it?" Natasha asked while her eyes watched your dot stop right in front of the house. Your Uber leaving. Wanda still having no idea.

Wanda sat on the bed, smiled, and stared at the camera as she started moving her hand up and down the shaft of the cock. "Yes." The Sokovian spoke.

Nat bit her lip as the ring camera went off. The noise and notification alerting Wanda as well. "Is that you?" She looked up to the camera, asking. "No, baby. It's not. But it's for you, my Wendy."

Wanda turned and grabbed her phone, confused. "For me? Wendy-" The alias made Wanda remember times before the I Do's. "Natasha, what did you do?" Wanda was about to take her strap off yet again when Natasha commanded her not to.

"Keep it on. But on your pink robe. She'll explain everything detka. I'll call you in a bit. I'll be watching on cams."

With that, Natasha hung up and left Wanda in their bedroom, horny and confused about what her wife had in store. She turned her head and saw the red light still on. Okay. Wanda thought. Let's see what this is. She ran to the bathroom and slipped on her pink-colored robe before making her way downstairs.

On the front porch, you felt sillier and sillier. The doorbell had gone off twice, and no one had come to the door. You were about to call it quits and probably cry when you got home when your phone buzzed.

"She's coming, baby, don't worry."

If the term of endearment didn't make you blush, then the woman on the other side of the door would have when it flew open, revealing the woman from the photo sent earlier.

This time, instead of a Halloween costume, she was wearing a bathrobe. Her smooth skin was darker than in the photo, and the picture you saw didn't do her eyes justice. Standing before you, you could see pools of emeralds she had been blessed with. Her freckles and moles danced across her body, making you look everywhere before you focused up and smiled as she did the same. "Hi." She softly spoke.

Her slightly accented voice makes you want to scream without the s.

"Hi." You smiled like an idiot, even extending your hand like one, too. "Y/N." Wanda smiled at your cuteness. "Wendy." She said, knowing you'd believe it. "So what do I owe the pleasure, Y/N?" Wanda stepped onto the front porch, coming closer to you. She was now at your level. A bit shorter than you, thanks to your heels.

The step down made her cock jiggle, not that you saw. You fumbled over your words, making Wendy smile and giggle. You froze and let a heatwave run over your body. That giggle of hers, you'd do anything to hear it again.

"Try again, sweetheart."

The pet name should've clued you into the fact that maybe Wendy already knew what you were doing here, but it didn't. You just smiled and started speaking while trying not to get lost in her eyes.

Oh, Tasha, she's so cute. Where did you get this one?

While you poorly explained the events that led you to having an app placed onto your phone, Wanda decided to look you over discretely.

Natasha dressed you. If the black on black on black wasn't a giveaway, then the peach lipstick would've been.

Wanda smiled as she watched your kissable peach-covered lips move. She was going to have fun with you.

Wanda's eyes quickly moved up your body again past the black heels that you'd be in all night and up your legs. Your dress stopping not even mid-way down your thighs.

Wanda was highly aware of what all of this meant.

"...so then, after seeing that cute costume, I accepted. I must say you're much more beautiful in person. Natalie didn't do you justice." You rambled, and Wanda picked up the name Natasha was going with. "Why thank you, Y/N." Wanda smiled before opening her mouth again.

"I know you said this was your first time using this.. app.. but have you ever done something like this?" Wanda needed to know. You slowly shook your head, and Wanda had to do her best to keep her lips from spreading into a wide smile. "Good." She said. "Good."

You watched Wendy look you over once more. "You look stunning, Y/N. I'm lucky to have you tonight." You opened your mouth in shock. "No, Wendy, believe me. I'm the lucky one." She smiled at you before turning around and opening her door wide for you to follow her in. "We'll see."

Natasha watched you follow her wife inside on the ring camera and slowly moved her hand over her clothed pussy, still wet from when she saw Wanda's cock.

Your heels were loud against the hardwood floor of the modern house in the middle of nowhere. "It's beautiful." You looked around as you followed Wendy into a giant kitchen. "Thank you. Natas- Natalie and I designed it ourselves." Wanda quickly looked into the corner of the ceiling, the red light on.

"Could I interest you in anything to drink?" Wendy walked to the other side of the kitchen island. You were about to answer when you closed your mouth shut as your eyes landed on the woman's green eyes staring back at you. Her robe was no longer closed like it was moments ago. Instead, it was strategically open—a clear view of Wendy's side boobs and flat stomach. You could now pinpoint a mole on her left breast. You licked your lips as she leaned forward over the island. Her lower half was still a mystery to you as her boobs threaded to spill out.

"I- I-" You stuttered, forcing Wendy to lean up and smirk at you. "You really haven't done anything like this before. Aren't you adorable?" She said the second sentence under her breath, but you heard her.

That made your legs press together.

Through the laptop screen, Natasha smirked, too. Wanda and Natasha were always teaching each other things. But the ability to flirt and get what you want was masterfully taught to Wanda over the years. "You're doing so good, baby.." Natasha moaned as her finger brushed over her covered clit.

"Here, we'll start with some water." Wendy turned away from you, opening their fridge and pulling out a water bottle. She opened it quickly and set it down near her. "Come here." She spoke softly to you. You swallowed and made your way across the kitchen. The only noise in the house being your heels.

Wanda closed a drawer and placed a straw in your bottle as you stopped before her. Still unaware of the surprise under the robe. "I wouldn't want you to mess up your lipstick."

Not yet.

"Thank you." You awkwardly smiled and took the bottle from Wendy, who watched you drink it like a proud mother. "Good job." She whispered as her right hand pushed some of your loose hairs behind your ear. Her delicate fingers moved down behind your ears and to your neck. Stopping there. "Finished?" She asked as her other hand reached and grabbed the water bottle from you. You nodded as Wendy took a sip as well.

The cold contact from the water made goosebumps appear all over Wendy's body.

Wanda gasped and had a giant smile form as her nipples became hard and brushed up against the robe concealing them. Her eyes pierced through you as you smiled back at her. Your eyes quickly moving up from Wanda's cleavage. "Y/N?" She asked, setting the water down. "I'd like to ask a couple of questions that maybe my wife didn't ask or maybe things she already knows. If that's okay?"

You nodded.

"I like for you to speak when spoken to Y/N." Wendy gently but sternly reminded you as she ran her cold hands over your dress down to your hips, where she kept them in place. "How old are you?"

"25." You replied, making Wendy's face light up. "Wow. Still so young.." Wendy bit her lip. "Do you have a girlfriend?" You shook your head, earning a squeeze on the hips from Wendy. You did your best to hold in a moan but lightly failed. "Speak up, baby." Wanda teased.

"No girlfriend." Wanda smiled. "Good girl. Boyfriend?"

You quickly shook your head and told her no, making Wendy laugh. "Even better, detka.." She whispered as your breath became more erratic. "Safe word?" She asked.

You shook your head before speaking up. "Never had one before." For a split second, Wanda felt bad that you never had one, but her eyes sparkled with wild thoughts. "Mango. That's the word we'll use." The older woman decided. "Don't be afraid to use it either. It stops all actions and can keep you safe. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good girl."

Natasha watched as her wife's hands moved from your hips to behind your back, right above your ass. Wanda was slowly pushing more and more into your space. Your lower back up against the kitchen island.

"Come on, Wanda, show her the camera..." Natasha pleaded.

"You can put your hands on me," Wendy spoke as she watched your hands rise and fall. "Go ahead. Touch me." She looked up to you. You placed your hands on her shoulder, still covered by the robe. "Are you nervous?" You both knew the answer, but Wanda wanted to hear you say it. "Yes."

"That's okay." Wendy's eyes sparkled. "Pretty soon, you won't be." That made your stomach flip positively. You think. "Here..." Wendy quickly removed her hands from you and pushed herself away. Covering her body with the robe again and leaning on the counter a couple of feet away from you.

You wanted to whine at the loss of contact and the sight of her body, but you didn't. Instead, you looked shocked. "I'll start slow and help ease you. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good girl." Your cheeks went red again, but Wendy didn't stop to comment on it. "To help tonight go smoothly for you, I'm going to be honest." Wanda looked at the camera and back to you. "Wendy is not my name. It's Wanda. My wife is Natasha, not Natalie."

That definitely didn't help your nerves, but it made you feel better knowing that maybe they lied because for a good reason. "I trust you not to tell anybody about it tonight, so there's no harm in telling you our real names."

"Oh... okay. Is it a safety thing?" You asked as your nerves settled a bit. Wen-Wanda nodded. "Yeah. Something like that." You nodded back. "Will Natasha be mad?"

"She's probably a little annoyed as we're speaking, but come tomorrow morning, she'll be just fine. Don't you worry about her." Wanda scrunched her nose up at you as she took a step closer. You looked at her fondly as her eyes grazed over you. In a normal conversation, she's still a goddess.

How can she even be looking at me?

Wanda played with the large belt of her robe before letting the ends causally fall. You watch in one quick motion. Wanda slipped a shoulder out of her robe as she approached you. "Y/N.." She breathed out as you lifted your hand to touch her bare skin. The minuscule divots in your thumb smoothing over her shoulder. "Yes.." Your voice lost itself as you felt a yearning build deep within you.

"I want you to look at me," Wanda commanded, watching your eyes find hers.

She took a step towards you. "Y/N, in the corner of the ceiling, there is a camera with a red light on under it. That's Natasha. So I want you to say hi. Okay? Tell her that her wife is in good hands tonight. You do that, and you can touch more than just my shoulder... Is that something you want Y/N?" Before you can respond, she says:

"Because I want you to touch me."

Wanda bites her bottom lip and watches as you process this information. The two of you becoming wetter with every passing second. Especially when Wanda lays her left hand on the inside of your left thigh. "Tell her hi, baby.."

You close your eyes as the feeling of Wanda's hand on you burns, but it feels so fucking good. You turn your head and open your eyes to the red light in the corner. "Hi Natasha.." You pant as Wanda's hand rises. "Keep going." She says, like you're not struggling already. Fuck it has been a while since you got laid. "Your wife is in.. good hands t-tonight."

You turn back to Wanda, who surprises you by jumping into you and kissing you. You melt as your lips collide. A moan slipping through your lips. You inhale Wanda for the first time tonight and smell lavender. Her body falls on yours, and you wrap your arms tightly around her, pulling her closer, hoping to relieve the pressure between your legs.

But that's when you feel it and moan into Wanda's smirking mouth. "Wanda!" You moan again as Wanda pushes into you harder this time. "Oh, Y/N!" Wanda removes her lips from yours and sends them down your chin before latching onto your neck. Kisses slowly morph into bites and marks of territory.

After all, you were hers for tonight.

Natasha watches your breaths become ragged as you throw your head back and moan loudly. Natasha pants and moans her wife's own name as she slides two fingers up and down her wet clit before slowly putting her middle and ring finger into her needy pussy.

"Oh, Wanda! Fuck!"

"Take my robe off!" Wanda looks up at you, detaching her mouth from your red collarbone. You nod and make work of the robe before it falls to the floor, revealing Wanda and her heavenly body. You push her by her shoulders to get a good look at her.

Perfection. That is all that comes to mind.

"Natasha is lucky." You reiterate your point from earlier as you look down at her body. You're in awe even when your eyes land on the real surprise of tonight.

"Look at how wet you've already gotten it, Y/N."

You do, indeed, take a closer look and see that down the tip of the fake cock is your wetness. "No panties, baby?" Wanda asks in a voice that makes your brain short-circuit. You shake your head. "No panties, Mommy."

You, Wanda, and Natasha all went wide-eyed at that.

Your therapist is going to have more issues to work out next Thursday.

Wanda quickly recovered, unlike you, and took steps closer until she was right up against you like before. The tip of her cock sliding through your wet lips. Earning a visceral moan. "Just wait till later.." Her words hit your burning ears. You nodded and almost begged her to just fuck you right there, but Wanda placed her hands on your hands, stopping you from touching her. Her hips moving forward and back at a quicker pace as she placed kisses on your neck once again.

You couldn't process words, much less speak, at this moment.

You shrieked when Wanda bit you hard. You squirmed when Wanda's mouth didn't stop leaving darker marks than before. "Y/N.." She groaned. "I want you to thank Natasha for this." Your mouth hung open as the length of the cock continuously slid up and down your wet pussy. "Thank her for the both of us. Can you do that?" You wanted to say yes, but the feeling of pure bliss was coming, and you didn't want it to stop.

Neither did Wanda, but this was just light fun. This was the first phase.

Once you two made it upstairs, that's when the real fun would begin.

But for now, the hunping began to slow, as did Wanda's kisses on your neck.

She lifted her head and let go of your hands. Her cock remained still as she took her hands to your face. Pulling your chin down to look at her. "Don't make this difficult," Wanda warned you as you were coming down from your non-orgasm. You went to nod, but Wanda's other hand touched you. While Wanda's shaft was up against your thighs and pussy her fingers found your clit. Soaked and desperate for attention again, she slowly began circling it with precision.

"Look at the camera and thank my wife. Thank Natasha." Her pace increased, as did your breathing. You closed your eyes and opened your mouth.

"Thank-k.." Wanda's other hand reached your back and held you in place. "Keep going, Y/N."

"Th-thank you-u..." You moaned loudly. "Wanda!" "Don't stop!" Her middle finger was now helping you get closer and closer to the edge.

"Natasha-ah! Thank you!" You squealed as Wanda's fingers immediately left you. In an instant, your back slammed against the kitchen island as Wanda thrusted her cock against your clit. You stumbled in your heels and fell back onto the countertop. Your open legs and wet thighs on display for Wanda thanks to your dress riding up.

Wanda was in love with your body.

Meanwhile, you had yet to cum. You had never experienced something like this, and you were so thankful that it wasn't going to stop. "Come here." Wanda reached up and grabbed you by your wrists. Pulling you off the countertop and in front of her yet again. "Strip!"

You stumbled again as you tried to find your footing. Two times, you had been denied an orgasm, yet you couldn't help but feel a little shy and smile as you nodded and went to take your heels off for Wanda. But she stopped you forcefully, grabbing you by your arm. "Y/N.." She looked at your furrowed brows. "We talked about this earlier. I like for you to speak when spoken to Y/N." You nodded again. She was right. "I'm sorry."

Then, a smile appeared on Wanda's face. "There we go. But what else do we say? I'm sorry..." You tilted your head at her before it dawned on you. "I'm sorry, Mommy."

Wanda smiled wider and leaned forward to kiss you. "That's my girl. I'm sorry I had to grab you like that, but I want you to be good. Okay?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"Okay. Now, I only want you to strip out of the dress. Keep the tights and heels on for me." You nodded again as Wanda pulled you away from the kitchen and island and more towards the open space of the giant room. Closer to the camera. "Do it here." She turned to you and waited for you to get to work. Once you started, a smile never left Wanda's face. "You're so beautiful, Y/N." She said again, making you blush. "Isn't she Nat?" Wanda looked up to the camera while she walked around you. Hand stroking her wet cock.

All thanks to you.

Natasha twitched as her wet fingers slid over her swollen clit. She smiled and watched your dress hit the floor. "She's adorable," Natasha spoke to herself. But Wanda knew. She also knew Natasha was going to thoroughly enjoy what was to come.

You weren't sure what to do. Well, you knew you wanted to have sex; no, sorry, that's wrong- You knew you wanted to be fucked by Wanda, but you were in no position to make demands or ask questions. Since you stepped foot into this house, Wanda was in charge.

And you didn't want to upset Mommy.

So your anticipation built over the next few seconds as Wanda stared at your body. You could see it in her eyes that she was fascinated with you, which was nice. It felt terrific. But all you wanted was her touch again. To actually feel her again!

So when Wanda stepped right over your dress and put her hands on your body, you let out a moan just for her. Your thighs clamped together just as her lips found their way to your nipple, sucking it into her mouth, biting your breast. Her left hand landed on your other boob. Her fingers trailed to push it up and take it into her hand. Groping you. The rough feeling sending waves of pleasure all over your body. Her other hand found its way to your hip bone. Kneading and pulling you close. Forcing your wet thighs to push up against her cock. Begging for an opening.

You rolled your eyes back and spread your legs for Wanda's cock to slide right in and over your core. Both of your stomachs slamming into one another, making you put your hands on Wanda's back. Pulling her close. "Someone's desperate." She chuckled as you squirmed and nodded.

You wanted it so bad.

But you were denied once again as Wanda began to pull back. You immediately refocused your eyes and looked down at Wanda with a plead stuck in your throat as she lifted her mouth off your boob.

"Does someone want to cum?"

You nodded. "Please." Wanda smiled at that and kissed your chest up to your neck. Her cock sliding up and down your pussy. "Not yet." You went to whine, but Wanda stopped you. "Not here. Let's go upstairs." You looked down at Wanda to make sure she was serious.

Wanda slowly pulled her long red silicone cock from in between your thighs and grabbed your hand to lead you. "We'll go slow. Just follow me." You nodded and slowly did follow Wanda.

No matter how close, your legs felt like jelly.

"What about Natasha?" You asked as you hit the first step. "You'll be seeing her soon," Wanda replied with a smirk you didn't see.

The same style used throughout the house continued into the bedroom, shared by the woman placing you on the soft bed and the woman somewhere else watching you through a camera.

It was cute, and it seemed to suit Wanda for the most part.

"That's Natasha's side," Wanda said as she came back to you from closing the bedroom door. You went to move, but Wanda stopped you. "Don't." Stern but gentle. You were picking up that that's how Wanda was. She was caring, giving, and someone who you could easily trust. But slowly, she showed you she can be strong, disciplined, and hard.

No pun intended.

"Scoot back a bit." You did as you were told and moved your ass away from the edge. Wanda sat down on the bed right next to you. You felt her soft legs brush up against your own, making you react. "You've been wonderful so far tonight, Y/N." Wanda's left hand started rubbing up and down your thigh. Your kegs spreading themselves open without being told. "See." Wanda brings her hand closer to your center. "You're so good. I know you can't wait to have my cock inside you, huh?" You rolled your head over to Wanda as your body begins to buckle as her hand brushes over your clit.

You have never been teased for this long.

"I can't wait, Mommy." You whine. Wanda smiles. "Thank you for being honest, baby." She leans into you and kisses your lips. Each kiss becomes shorter as your moans grow louder.

Wanda keeps her hand touching your wet folds, only stopping to grab your hand and place it on her cock. You freeze momentarily. "It's okay." Wanda breaths over your ear. "I just want to feel your hand jerk me off. Just for a bit, baby." Wanda kisses the side of your face and is happy when your hand slowly goes up and down her length. The action causing the inside of the strap to push up against Wanda's clit. "What's the safe word Y/N?"

"Mango."

Wanda hums. "Mommy is so proud of you." Wanda moans before her hand slips down, finally inserting two fingers inside you.

Through the camera in the corner, Natasha watches you moan the loudest you have all night. A smile on her face as the naked redhead flops her head back to her pillow as she works herself closer to another orgasm of the night. "Fuck her, Wanda. Make her your slut."

You continue pumping Wanda's cock as you feel yourself tighten around her fingers. You try not to, but you fall flat on your back as the pleasure is reaching its tipping point. "Oh god. You're so tight, Y/N! My cock is going to wreck that pretty pussy of yours!" Wanda is overjoyed at the sight of your body covered in sweat as her two fingers slide in and out of you. The faster and faster she goes, you shut your eyes tight as the pressure builds. You let out a vital moan as you feel the bed shift.

Wanda, getting up on her knees, moves her body closer to you. Your hand still on her cock lazily jerking her off as Wanda doesn't stop her assault on your pussy. "Is someone going to cum?" Wanda asks through ragged breaths as she's having just as much fun as you. Your mouth drops open, and you go to speak. But you just moan as your eyes roll back. "Going to cum for me, baby? Is my Y/N going to cum?" Wanda teases as her fingers curl inside of you. "Answer me." She demands but doesn't slow down.

"Ye-s! Momm- fuck!! I'm going to cu-mmm! I want cum so bad! Can I cum?!" The rest of the words get lost in your throat as Wanda pulls your legs back and has you spread so she can pump her fingers deeper into you. "You want to cum for me?" You rapidly nod as your brain goes dizzy. Wanda smiles as she runs her left hand through your hair before pulling the back of your head up. "Cum for Mommy!" That puts you over the edge. Your legs shake. "Holy fuck! I'm cumming. Oh my god! I'm cumming!"

Hearing your moans and pleas pushes Natasha to cum at the same time you do. A bliss-filled smile on her face as she removes her right hand from her center but keeps her left hand pressed on her throat until she's close enough to see stars.

She wonders if Wanda will do that to you tonight.

"That's it, baby." Wanda praises you as you come down from your high. Her fingers coated in you as she pulls out, making you whine at the loss. "It's okay," Wanda says, but when you look over, her eyes are on her hand. Not you. She also knows you're watching but doesn't pay you any attention as she slips her two Y/N-coated fingers into her mouth.

She moans and savors the taste of you.

She would never admit it, but you were almost more addicting than Natasha.

You tasted sweet, and Wanda wanted more. You watch her hand silently reach down to your spread pussy and slide the same two fingers between your folds. Careful not to brush past your clit.

She knew how sensitive it was at the moment.

You watch the finger shine in the bedroom's light before her tongue runs up the length of her middle finger before she finally looks at you. "Have you ever tasted yourself?" You shook your head. "No, Mommy." Wanda brings her fingers to you. "Open for me." You let your mouth drop open. Tongue flat as Wanda's fingers lay down on the pink bed. You close your lips and suck on her fingers.

A moan gets stuck in your throat.

You love the way you taste.

"I taste good, Mommy." Wanda smiles at you widely and nods.  "Yes, you do, Y/N." She would like to think that she finger fucked you, dumb. Made you a submissive pet. To be hers. But Wanda doesn't know you.

She doesn't know how correct she'd be.

She doesn't know that you just had one of the best orgasms of what you're now realizing is a pretty bland, sex-filled life.

She doesn't know that something did happen when her fingers were inside of you. A switch got flicked on. Not only were you hers for tonight. But you wanted to be Wanda's for every night. You wanted more.

One app turned you into a dumb submissive little slut.

Your eyes dropped from Wanda's to see your hand was still on her fake cock. "Mommy?" You asked. "Yes." Wanda tilted her head with a smile. "I want more." You said, bringing your eyes up to hers. Both are blown out with lust. "I want your cock."

Wanda giggled, making it jump. "Where do you want my cock?"

Before you could answer, a cell phone started to ring. You knew it wasn't yours based on the ringtone and Wanda's reaction of looking in the corner at the camera. "Hold on." Wanda gently let go of your head and moved off the bed to her bedside table. Your lips curled into a smile as you watched her 7-inches jump with every step.

As Wanda picked the phone up, you looked over her body once more. You couldn't believe the natural beauty she had. Her body was yours to worship. Well, yours and "Natasha!" Wanda exclaimed purposefully.

You looked up at Wanda, holding her phone up.

FaceTime call, you thought.

You move your body slightly to lay more in the middle of the bed. Your head closer to the pillows than before. You try not to listen to Wanda and her wife's private conversation just in case it's important, but when "she's being such a good girl" gets said, you turn your head to Wanda, who is already looking at you. She winks at you, causing your stomach to flip and a giddy smile to appear on your face. "You missed her tasting herself?!" Wanda makes a gasping sound. "Tasha!"

"Give the phone to her Wands." Wandaobeys her wife, crawls onto the bed, and gives you the phone. On the screen is Natasha lying on a bed with her red hair sprawled out behind her. Her green eyes piercing you through the screen. She looks so fucking beautiful. More so than the photos on the hush. You see why her and Wanda are together.

It made a wave of jealousy wash over you before remembering the reason you were here.

You leaned up against the pillows as Natasha looked over your face. You quickly peered over the phone to see Wanda on her knees in front of your center. You smiled and wrapped your legs around her. Her mind getting the message, bringing her hands up and down your thighs. Just her touch was enough to make you hold in a moan.

"You've been doing so well, Y/N," Natasha told you. "Thank you." You shyly replied. "Don't be nervous just because I'm here now."

"You were always here," Wanda added, making Natasha wave her off. But only you could see it being in a smile to you. "Mommy says you taste sweet. Do you agree?" It'sthenthat you notice Natasha's right arm appears to be moving out of frame from the camera.

Natasha was fingering herself to you.

And she called Wanda Mommy.

"Yes, I do. Mommy's right." That made Natasha buck against herself, and you felt pride in making that happen. But your face of pride quickly disappeared when you felt Wanda's cock rub up and down your wet pussy. The tip sliding across your clit. Her movement growing faster. "Wand-mommy!" You moaned.

"Daddy just wants to see you taste yourself."

Daddy? But before you could question what you already knew, Wanda accidentally pushed half the length of the cock into you. Making you scream in pleasure because you and your pussy needed it.

You held tight to the phone as Wanda didn't give you time to adjust to the size before she started pulling back out of you. Your body practically going limp as you tried your best to remain strong for Mommy. And Daddy. "Take it, Y/N. It's okay. It's okay!" Your eyes focused back to Natasha as she wore a smirk. You nodded and saw Wanda smile.

"Come here." Wanda pulled out of you and reached down to place her hands on your arms. "Trust me, baby." She spoke softly as she started pulling you onto your black, tight, covered knees. You didn't realize that she grabbed the phone away from you in the process.

Wanda held onto you as she moved to the edge of the bed. She slid off to stand straight up but kept you on it. That's when you realized. With an arch of the back and on your knees, you were face to face with Wanda's cock. The very same that's covered in you.

"Go ahead." You looked up to see Wanda and the phone looking down at you. "See how you taste on Mommy's cock." Daddy said. "I-" You started to speak but stopped. Feeling a little embarrassed. "Have you never-" Wanda started but stopped when you spoke over her. "No, I have! It's just been a long time." Wanda's eyes soften. "I'll be gentle. Remember the safe word?" You nodded. "Mango."

"That's right, baby. Mommy will take good care of you. This is just for Daddy. Okay?" You nodded once again. "Okay."

"She's so good for you," Natasha said to Wanda as you got closer to her cock.

Just like with Wanda's fingers earlier, the fake cock showed how wet you had gotten it in the light of Mommy and Daddy's bedroom. You looked up to Wanda and Natasha. The former gives you an encouraging smile.

You reached your hand out to the cock and began stroking it before bringing your mouth to the base. With your tongue flat against it, you licked up from the bottom to the top. The ridges and feeling of it made you smile as the taste of your own wet pussy landed in your mouth. "Oh god." You heard Daddy moan.

You repeated the process again and again to ease yourself into the act. Soon enough, the tip of the cock was entering your mouth. "Let me know when it's okay for me to move Y/N." You looked up to Wanda and nodded as you pushed another inch into your mouth. Thankful for Wanda choosing now to be extremely kind.

You pulled your mouth off the cock and let a string of salvia fall to your chin. Wanda's hand was quick to wipe it away. "You're doing so good. Daddy is proud of you." You smiled widely and started stroking the cock faster as your mouth sank lower onto it. You gagged, of course, but that didn't stop you. You simply swallowed and kept pumping Wanda's cock into your mouth. Your tongue running up and down it as the cock felt good against your soft lips.

When you reached the halfway point, Wanda placed a hand on your head and started to move her hips.

"Mommy's getting a little restless, Y/N."

With the cock still in your mouth and tears welding in your eyes, you looked up to see Wanda with her head thrown back, pushing the cocking further into you. "Oh fuck." Wanda exclaimed, making you moan at the sight before gagging again. "Baby, it feels so good on my clit. Oh my god!" Wanda moaned as the vibrations from your gag had her hands tighten in your hair. "Don't stop, Y/N!"

You weren't going to. If Wanda was going to cum you wanted to be the one to do it.

Determined, you brought a hand up and placed it on the back of Wanda's thigh, pushing her more into you. The cock sliding down your throat. "Oh baby, you're such a fucking slut!" Daddy spoke through her own moans as she watched her wife fuck your mouth. Wanda nodded in agreement and started pushing your head onto the strap.

The sounds of the wet cock, your gags, and the three of you moaning being the only thing to fill the room.

You made sure to push the base of the strap with every jerk you gave it, so it made Wanda buckle. Her moans and breaths becoming inconsistent. "Keep going, Y/N! Make her cum! Make Mommy cum!" You could hear Natasha's fingers rapidly fucking her pussy. You swirled your tongue around the shaft and moaned one last time before you pulled your head back. Letting the cock slide down your tongue out of your mouth. Coating your chin and chest as salvia dripped off of it.

You swallowed what you had left in your mouth and brought your hands up to Wanda's strap. You began to jerk it off, staring straight up at the camera. "Daddy, I want you to cum too. I want you to cum for me. I want you and Mommy to cum all over me." You acted like a slut for the two of them.

Natasha knew it couldn't happen, but goddamn if she wouldn't shoot loads all over that pretty face of yours.

Meanwhile, Wanda had her eyes on you again. Blown out and fully aware of the orgasm she was about to have. The center of the strap pushing back into her pussy and clit was enough to take her to the edge. But you. You on the bed, jerking her off.

That's what made her cum. Her green eyes looking into you. "Don't stop, baby. Don't stop, Y/N! Oh my God. Oh-ooh, my God!!!" Wanda gripped your hair harder than ever before as her eyes rolled back. Fingers holding your skull still.

The inside of the hardness ruined as she came.

At the same time, hearing her wife moan your name. Moan for you. Natasha came. Natasha came for you.

You sat on the bed as Wanda held you still. You were in awe as you watched Wanda start to come down from her climax. Her body was now in a glow of sweat that made her look sexier than ever. The grips on you loosened. For a split second, you swear you saw her green eyes turn red. But when she looked in your direction, you saw how soft they were. She smiled. You smiled back and got up on your knees. You grabbed the phone as it was about to slip from Wanda's hand. When you looked, you saw Natasha still recovering. "You did so good." You said to both of them, but mainly Wanda, in a hushed tone before pulling her close to you, and with Natasha watching, you kissed her wife on the lips.

She responded by pushing her lips into yours and putting her hands on your body to steady herself from almost falling.

Jelly legs and all.

"Let's get me out of this." You nodded and giggled as she did, too. With help from Natasha on the other end of the phone propped up on her bedside table, the harness finally fell to the floor.

Wanda sat back down on the bed and pulled your body in between her legs. With you still in your heels, her face was at eye level with your stomach. Her hands placed themselves on your ass, moving them up and down as her pink lips started kissing your stomach.

You blushed hard as not everything about tonight was new, but this was. This was intimate and special. And you couldn't do anything but love it. Your cheeks became more pink as you grew wetter with each kiss and lick Wanda's mouth left on you. Your hands placed themselves on her head. This time, it was your turn to run your hands through her hair.

You moved back a bit, but to place a kiss on top of Wanda's head, this made the older woman look up at you.

She reached up and pulled your chin down. A gentle kiss placed on your lips. "Come here." She whispered as your body fell onto the bed with hers.

Legs quickly become intertwined as her arms wrap around you. Her mouth immediately attaches to your collarbone as your breath moans into her ear. "Thank you." She moans as your hands grab onto her sides. "Thank you for tonight, Y/N."

You shake your head and kiss her forehead, making her look up at you before you kissed her face and lips. You never want to stop doing that. "No, Wanda.. thank you and Natasha."

You looked into each other's eyes. You realized another thing about tonight right then and there. A one-night stand or a relationship never made you feel how you felt in this moment.

Wanda had only ever felt this way about one person before.

Natasha watched the two of you and smiled. She succeeded in her mission for her wife to have a night like tonight.

Come morning, that app would be off your phone, and there would be no need for Natasha to ever use it for you again—and Vice versa.

Natasha watched you lean down and kiss Wanda's collarbone. Slowly working your way to her chest, kissing over her little moles and freckles. Wanda smiled and moaned at certain spots. "Y/N?" She said, looking down at you. "Yes?"

"I want you to take off your heels and tights."

You looked down and back up. "Are you sure?" Wanda nodded, yet you still looked at the phone for Natasha's confirmation. "Do what she says, detka." You sat up on the bed as the two watched you.

"What does detka mean?" You asked as you placed the right heel down. Wanda took the question. "It means baby, honey, sweetie. It's a term of endearment." You made an "ah" noise and took off your tights. "Any other questions?" Wanda teased.

That made a lightbulb go off. "Yeah..." You briefly looked at Natasha, who looked sleepy (probably due to the 4 orgasms she had) before looking at Wanda. "Nat- Daddy made me wear peach-colored lipstick. Why?" You were now fully nude for the first time tonight, making you feel free and closer to Wanda.

Just like she wanted.

You got on your knees and crawled your way up to the bed before flopping back down into the position you were in earlier. Your legs intertwined with Wanda. Arms around one another. Face to face. Wanda kissed you. "That's a good question." She laughed. "You see... before Natasha and I said the I Do's. We were more open.. kinda like this.." Wanda rubbed her hand up and down your back. "Natasha would bring home pets, toys, and pretty girls like you." Wanda smiled at the memory. But her eyes focused back on you. "And do you know what they always wore?"

"Peach." You responded to Wanda's praise.

"But don't worry, Y/N." Wanda pushed her head closer to you. To lay it on your shoulder. "None of them were ever like you." She kissed your shoulder. You kissed her head.

You two sat in silence for a moment before Wanda disrupted it. "I want to cum one more time." She spoke in a hushed tone. You nodded. "Okay." You replied because you would be stupid not to.

Wanda untangled herself from you and looked back at Natasha and the phone. Only to see her wife passed out. Wanda let out a small chuckle before moving Natasha to the phone charge. Keeping the call active.

Wanda lays back down and motions you over. Her pearly white show themselves as you place your legs over her. Half your body on her—half on the bed.

You begin to kiss Wanda as softly as possible. Almost as slowly as you are soft, you drag your hand across her skin. You feel the goosebumps your breath against her face sends across her body. Wanda moans another kiss into your lips as her hand places itself around your wrist, directing you to feel how wet she is. "It's for you." She says into your ear before shrieking because of the bite you place on her. It didn't hurt her. It was just surprising.

Truth be told, you just wanted to leave a mark.

But the mark you would leave behind isn't one that's visible.

You moan into Wanda as you slip your fingers inside her for the first time tonight. "You're so tight." Wanda whimpers as you don't slow. "Please keep going!" You push her one leg to the side with your knee so she can spread her pussy for you more. "Right there! Right there!"

Wanda wraps her arms around and holds on as you curl your fingers, hitting her spot. "Don't stop. Oh my god! Y/N Please Don't!" Wanda's mouth drops before slamming shut as the point is approaching. "You wanna cum?" You ask as you stare at her with her eyes closed shut. "Wanda wants to cum?"

This was your first time in the bedroom calling her Wanda.

She opens her eyes, shocked, but her face is flushed and red. Contorting as she is close. "Yes Y/N! Please let me cum!" She looks at you, pleading. "Moan into me as you cum. You can cum baby. Okay? Cum for me, Wanda. It's okay!" You and Wanda crash your lips into one another as she tightens around you. She smacks your thumb away from clit as she cums. Your fingers become coated in her, and you feel like you've just won the lottery. "That's it. That's it! Ride it out." You coax her and leave a trail of kisses across her forehead.

Her tight hold that her arms have around you loosens. Delicately, you pull your fingers out of her. Wanda winces and sighs at the loss of you. But is overjoyed with what just happened.

"Have you ever tasted yourself?" You ask, half teasing, half not. "I have." You bring your fingers closer to your mouth, but Wanda's hand grabs your wrist. "But not from you." Before you can protest, your fingers are in her mouth. Her tongue runs over and in between your two fingers. Moaning at the taste. Because of you.

Wanda pulls your fingers out quicker than you'd like. "Well?" You ask, but instead of an answer, Wanda leans into you and puts a hand on the back of your head to keep you in place as she French kisses a mixture of you and her into your mouth. Your stomach erupts with butterflies as you taste Wanda. Both of your moans are muffled in each other's mouths. You continue to make out with one another.

Eventually, you two swallow and come up for air but find each other still in the same position even after silence, and your lingering touches are the only thing.

"Wanda..." You open and close your mouth. Unsure of what to say.

You look down at Wanda, whose head has fallen onto your arm, and see her with her eyes closed. Her breathing slow. She's fallen asleep. You peer over to the plugged-in phone and see Natasha the exact same as before. You don't want to disturb Wanda, and as much as you want to stay and help clean up. She's asleep, and she's not yours. Tonight, you were her's.

But tomorrow, she would not be yours.

Plus, as much as you'd want to have... this... be your life. You can't. Natasha paid you to do a job, and you did it...

With a heavy heart, you begin to untangle and move Wanda. It's not easy at first. It's like once she falls asleep, she has dumbbells attached to her. But eventually, you move and place her in a more comfortable position.

You scoot yourself to the edge of the bed and pick up your heels and tights. You look for your dress before remembering its in the kitchen downstairs. You make your way to the door of the bedroom and unlock it. Opening it, surprised to find out it doesn't creak like every door in every house you've ever had. "Huh." You open it wider and look back just in time to see Wanda crinkle her nose in her sleep and flop onto her side. You smile at her cuteness and pull the light switches down.

Yeah, they have that kind.

You close the door, but just before it closes, you take one last look at her figure lying on the bed, next to it on the table Natasha. You both give them a smile and shut the door.

Lucky for you, Wanda didn't turn out the kitchen lights, so instead of stumbling around in the dark, you find your dress on the floor easily. After tossing it into your hands, you begin to locate your phone. But for the love of God, you can't recall where you had it.

Your heels click as you walk from one side of the house to the other- "Y/N?!" You scream, jump, and almost break your ankles because of the voice from behind you. "Wanda!" You exclaim as you come down from your fright.

"What are you doing?" Wanda asks as she rubs sleep out of her eyes. "Me?! What about you? You're supposed to be sleeping?!" Wanda looks you over with a frown on her face; she says: "Are you leaving?"

The way she says those three words made you look at her like you just broke her heart. "Wanda-" She shakes her head and steps off the last step in the stairs. "Don't leave." She walks up to you and takes your hand in hers. Ignoring the guilty look on your face. "Come on." She starts to pull you, making you stumble before you stop and remove your hand free. "Wanda, stop!"

The Sokovian turns around and looks at you with hurt written on her. "I don't want you to leave," Wanda speaks up. You go to open your mouth and fight that you have to. That you can't stay. You would tell her that tonight was one of the best nights you have had in a long time. You'd say that feelings are bubbling under the surface after one night with you and Natasha, so imagine what would happen if you stayed. You want to say that this was a job, and that's it.

In another life, you do those things.

In another life, it works out. In some, it doesn't.

But here. In this one. You look at Wanda and drop your dress, tights, and heels on the floor.

"Till morning."

"Till morning." She repeats.

That night, you fell asleep with your arms wrapped around Wanda Maximoff.

In the morning, when Natasha Romanoff arrives. She smiles to see that the cameras were right. You never left.

In case it wasn't obvious. Natasha wanted to keep you around. For her and Wanda. So when she opened the bedroom door to confirm that yes, you were still here. Cuddled up with her wife, Wanda. Natasha widely smiled.

"Moya Lyubov," Natasha whispered as she sat on the edge of the bedroom next to her sleeping wife. She brushed hair that had fallen onto her face. But it was no use. Wanda was a dead weight when she slept.

That you didn't know. Which is why it's a wonder how or why Wanda woke up when you were trying to leave last night.

But you woke up when you heard whispering. When your eyes peeled open, you smiled before remembering that you weren't supposed to stay over. But Natasha must've sensed or seen the panic on your face. "It's okay. I'm glad this happened. I wanted it, too." Natasha spoke as her eyes went from Wanda to you.

Natasha sat there as she just looked at you and Wanda. "So now what?" You quietly asked, unsure of what to do. "Now.. this..." Natasha gestures to the three of you. "Transaction is done." She smiles, hurting you. "Oh." You take a breath. "Okay." You go to move, but Natasha stops you.

"This one is done." She says with a smirk that you pick up on. "Oh.. okay." You say again but with a smile, making Natasha laugh. "But you'll have to use the app every time." But Natasha just shook her head.

You never used that app again after the first night.

After one week, Natasha and Wanda stopped paying you. After one month, you had two girlfriends. After three months, their home became your home.

So yeah, Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff were stuck at some point in life.

To be more specific, their marriage was stuck.

But that's where you came in.

Happily married to both.

dividers by @/benkeibear

[holllandtrash]

gone | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (part 3 to fragile line)

I just know You're not gone You can't be gone

The 2023 season is painful, its challenging and Daniel is still very much in your life in all the ways he shouldn't be.

word count: 9.9k (i dont even know how) warnings/tags: angst, heartbreak, all the painful stuff

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Do what?” 

You exhaled a breath that made your entire body shake, “You know what, Daniel.” 

Of course he did. For the last few months, he was experiencing the exact same things you were. The uncertainty, the tension, the sleepless nights, god you were so tired. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be you and him. You were supposed to be a team. 

So much went wrong, too much. Daniel stood in front of you now as you asked yourself if you were too far gone. 

And you both knew the answer to that one. 

That first race back in Hungary…you were a mess. You probably would have been a little bit more put together had Oliver not pointed out the lineup for the driver’s press conference. 

“You’re kidding,” your jaw dropped, staring at the list. “Who’s smart idea was it to put myself and Daniel together?”

“This is Formula 1,” Oliver sounded apologetic, he did feel bad about the situation. “The FIA doesn’t care if he’s your ex.”

The FIA didn’t care but the entire world watching did. Speculations on what would happen, where you would sit, what would be asked flooded social media. 

When you showed up on Thursday, Lando patted your back and told you to breathe.

“Easier said than done, Lando. I don’t see you being forced to sit with your ex.”

He chuckled at that because you had a point. “Look, I love Danny, but don’t let him get to you, alright?”

Originally, Lando did try to switch the sessions. He talked to Zak, PR, everyone, just because he knew how much you were dreading it. But alas, it was you who was now standing outside the media room, leaning against the wall as you waited to go in and get these next twenty minutes over and done with.

Your plan was to just say as little as possible to everyone. You were banking on the fact that the attention would be solely on Daniel and his return, and that was made clear when he walked into the hallway, getting warm greetings from other drivers and those standing nearby.

He had absolutely no reason to stand next to you, not when there were about ten other people who would have been dying for a few seconds of his time. 

Daniel cleared his throat, hands behind his back as he leaned against the wall as well. 

You counted six seconds before he opened his mouth, speaking to you for the first time since the awards dinner months ago. 

“Not even a hello?” He asked, but he wasn’t the least bit surprised that you were completely avoiding looking in his direction. You ignored him and Daniel laughed to himself at your lack of response.

The door opened again and you took a breath of relief when you realised you were about to be called into the press conference. Just get it over and done with.

Daniel didn’t have the same priorities and spoke up again, “I just want to know-”

You promptly cut him off, you had to. “Look I think it would be best if we just-” god this hurt, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. “Let’s just not talk, okay?”

You pushed yourself away from the wall when one of the media assistants handed each of you a mic and gave you the thumbs up that it was time for the five of you to head out onto the couch. Daniel quickly followed behind you, voice low enough that you could hear but it was unlikely anyone else could.

“So that’s it? You have nothing to say to me?” He asked. “For the person who got you into Formula 1?”

You as well spoke in a harsh whisper, “You may have fast tracked my career but I could have made it to Formula 1 without your help.”

You liked to believe that was true. Was it? You’d never know now.

“But you did take my help,” he pointed out, a groan slipping past his lips as he sat down on the couch. You made sure to distance yourself from him, leaving room for Carlos to sit between you. Even still, Daniel wasn’t done. “You took my help, my resources and then my seat.”

“And what did you do?” You hissed, arms crossed over your chest as different media personnel started to slowly trickle into the room, the lucky ones who claimed the first row were probably close enough to hear you and Daniel.

“Pardon?” He turned his head towards you. Carlos instinctively leaned further back, not wanting to be in the middle of this conversation, but watching and listening intently, as were the other drivers.

“What did you do, hmm?” You repeated, eyes scanning the growing crowd before you snapped your head in his direction. 

For a moment, this feud didn’t matter. Your heart skipped a beat, like it had the hundreds, thousands, of other times when his eyes met yours. The same brown eyes that for months you allowed yourself to get lost in. One look from him and everything around you faded to black. Nothing else seemed important when Daniel was looking at you, giving you his undivided attention.

But this moment wasn’t like all of those other ones.

You snapped out of it, returning to your original thought, much to Carlos’ dismay as he thought you guys were done and had started to relax in between you. 

“We both replaced a driver before their contract was up, Daniel.” You stated, wanting to point out the hypocrisy in his actions. “You are no better than me. We did the exact same thing.”

“It wasn’t the same and you know it,” Daniel retorted, not skipping a beat. He had those words lined up for weeks now, waiting for the chance to say them because there was no way in hell you weren’t going to point out the similarities in your actions.

But Daniel was right. It wasn’t the same. The biggest difference being, you were in love with Daniel when you signed that contract with McLaren, and he was in love with you. 

It wasn’t just a driver screwing over another driver. You drove a wedge between the two of you.

You had the thought to stand up and walk out. The press conference hadn’t officially started yet, the last few reporters were just finding their seats. You could say you’re ill, something came up, really any excuse to get out of here and away from Daniel’s harsh stare.

Don’t let him get to you. Lando’s reminder floated to the front of your mind and you forced yourself to just sit back and look at the small crowd instead. It was clear to everyone who even glanced your way that you did not want to be sitting there, but thankfully Tom Clarkson got the session up and running.

Of course Daniel was the star. Tom had questions about his return, about his short break, about being back with familiar faces. Daniel answered them all with such ease, the familiar heartwarming grin on his face that you couldn’t bear to look at. 

You zoned out, really, arms crossed in front of your chest as you tried to ignore the double standards coming from your right. You doubted Daniel was going to get as much hate online as you had gotten. No one was asking him how he felt about taking another’s seat, everyone was just happy he was back.

“And Y/N, onto you-”

You snapped your head up, plastering on your best smile.

“Last year you finished quite high in Hungary in Formula 2 and after your best finish out in Silverstone, you must feel quite confident going into this weekend?”

You lifted the mic up to your lips, “Yes and no, you know the car’s upgrades are proving to be paying off and we’re hoping to use them to our advantage this weekend but one can never be too confident. As a team we’ll be fighting to be at the front again but in the back of our minds we know that everyone else is doing the same.”

Tom nodded, content with that answer, “And is it nice to have another familiar face on the grid? Daniel acted as a sort of mentor for you during your time in F2, did he not?”

You tensed up and next to you, Carlos felt it. He nudged his arm against yours, a subtle move of encouragement. Carlos, like most of the drivers, knew how uncomfortable the situation was for all involved.

But you couldn’t process the kind gesture. Not when you could practically feel Daniel staring at you, burning holes into the side of your head as he waited for your response.

“I think, yeah a lot of people are probably happy to welcome him back,” you spoke quietly, and not at all convincing. But hey, at least you removed yourself from the answer and gave a general response. One that no one could flip on you.

Tom tried, though, “But personally, what’s going through your mind right now?”

You had so much media training. You knew the proper answer would be something along the lines of how Daniel is a great asset to the sport and how the grid is better with him. Nothing personal, but just facts the general public could agree with. You knew what to say.

But you scoffed instead, “Why aren’t you asking the other drivers how they feel?”

Max spoke up from the opposite end of the couch, “It’s great having Daniel back.”

You shot him a quick, yet thankful, smile. While he was good friends with Daniel, anyone on that couch could see how that question was only given to you because of your history with the Australian. And this press conference was supposed to be about motorsport, about the racing coming up. 

You stayed quiet for the rest of it and as soon as it ended you bolted out of that room. 

Unfortunately, so did Daniel.

He caught up to you with ease, “Hold up, Y/N, I want to talk.”

Daniel reached for your arm and you pulled it out of his grasp as you turned around to face him, “I don’t think there’s anything left to say. No, you said plenty last year. What was it, exactly? Something about how taking your seat before your contract was even up was the worst thing I could have possibly done? I’m not going to sit there and listen to everyone praise you for coming back when you dragged my name through the dirt for the exact same fucking move. I’m not going to listen to a single thing you have to say, knowing you’re the biggest hypocrite this sport has ever seen but won’t admit it.”

Daniel huffed out a short breath. For a second, you thought he was going to apologise, but that thought quickly left when his forehead creased, his jaw tightening, “Sometimes you gotta burn a few bridges in this industry, but you figured that out all on your own, didn’t you?”

You shook your head, taking a few more steps backwards as heavy sarcasm dripped from your tongue, “Nice to have you back, Daniel.”

It really was anything but nice. Not when that entire race was focused on how you and Daniel interacted in the paddock- or the lack of interaction was probably a better way to phrase it. Everyone knew you two to be connected at the hip. Now you were turning around and walking in the opposite direction to avoid him.

The next race was worse. Spa. It was a challenging track already, you knew this going into the practice sessions. You were prepared for a difficult weekend.

What you weren’t prepared for was leaving the garage towards the end of Q1 to set a lap time, only to be blocked by Daniel before you could cross the finish line. He slowed down before the straight, like many drivers did before giving it all they had on their way to start a flying lap. 

But Daniel didn’t speed up like you expected him to. He kept you behind him for as long as he could before shifting gears and taking off. When it was your turn to cross the line and get your time started, you heard the call come in from the garage. 

“Times up,” your engineer, Ronnie, said through the radio. “You didn’t cross the line in time.”

Once that timer hit 0, no one was allowed to start a new lap. Every other driver made it across in time, but Daniel’s little move kept you from throwing your hat into the ring for Q2. 

You embarrassingly made your way back around the track, pulling into the pit lane to park in the garage. It wasn’t long before other drivers followed, but they had all set lap times. Climbing out of the car, you noticed that Daniel didn’t make it through either.

Serves him right, you thought. 

God, you wanted to give him a piece of your mind. 

Right on time, you watched on the screen as Daniel dove into the pit lane. You ignored the calls from Ronnie and Oliver, not a single thought in your mind except to ask Daniel what his problem was.

Oliver knew what you were doing as soon as you stepped out of the garage. You ripped your helmet off and shoved it into his hands as he hurried to walk at your pace. Your eyes were set on the AlphaTauri garage just up ahead and you could hear Oliver warning you, telling you to just turn around and go back to McLaren but the second you saw Daniel get out of his car, you snapped.

“What the hell was that?” You asked, eyeing him up from where he stood at the garage opening. 

Daniel wasn’t the least bit surprised to see you, but he did stand up straighter, already anticipating whatever you had to say to him. 

“You’re a prick, you know that?” Your insult did little to offend him. 

“It's not my fault you left the garage late,” Daniel shrugged, taking no responsibility for your inability to set a lap time. 

“It’s completely your fault for slowing down more than necessary.”

“I didn’t want to run into traffic.”

“You fucked up my qualifying, Daniel.”

You felt Oliver’s hand on your shoulder. He wasn’t trying to pull you away, but the touch was to get your attention. Aside from AlphaTauri crew members watching this interaction, there was also a camera pointed directly at the two of you, streaming live to F1TV and whatever else broadcast that chose to air it. 

Daniel wasn’t as concerned about his media appearance, stepping forward the slightest bit so you were only inches apart. 

“If I were you, sweets, I wouldn’t be blaming your problems on the person who got you into this sport.”

You were so close to losing it on him for that comment. You probably would have, had he not thrown in his old nickname for you. Only it wasn’t sweet anymore. There was a distaste on his tongue as he said it, you heard it. He only said it to throw you off, to remind you that he no longer cared for you the way he used to. He was using it against you now.

Daniel saw the way you froze, completely losing your train of thought and he used it to his advantage to walk away from this conversation. He was happy to get the last word in and all you could do was drop your head and walk as close to Oliver as humanly possible as you made your way back to McLaren.

The altercation was heavily split down the middle by all who watched. Some people agreed that Daniel slowed down purposely to keep you from crossing the line in time to start a lap. They also agreed that he should have owned up and apologised for it, saying that it wasn’t in his character to leave another driver so defeated after something that was clearly his fault.

Other people agreed that it was your fault for leaving the garage too late, taking Daniel’s side. They said that it wasn’t very mature of you to confront him like that, or to swear at him. It only added to the conversation of how women weren’t ready to have a place in Formula 1. 

Your PR manager advised you to put out a statement about it, an apology. You ignored her advice. In your opinion, the only person who had to apologise was Daniel.

Of course he didn’t, though. 

Which meant you didn’t apologise when after the summer, In Zandvoort, you braked a little early when Daniel was behind you. You played it off saying you anticipated the turn too early. Daniel happily complained about you in the media pen when he was forced into the grass and then ultimately the barrier, forcing his race to end early. Social media blew up, like usual, feeding into this childish feud. 

That’s how it went for most all, of the races. It wasn’t as though you were purposely trying to ruin his weekends, nor was it his goal to ruin yours, but if you happened to be alongside each other during the race or near each other during qualifying, fans started to put their money on who would target who first.

You didn’t like that that was what your weekends turned into. It was one thing to want to know where the rest of the drivers were in comparison to you, but to be so focused on Daniel was taking it to the extreme.

But you were determined to prove you were a good driver without him, that you were a better driver than him. That taking that McLaren seat wasn’t a mistake and if anything, he should be regretting being so harsh on you. You wanted him to eat his words, and it helped your case that he was definitely struggling in the AlphaTauri. 

You finished ahead of him a handful of times. You could try and convince yourself it was skill, but a determining factor really was how horrible Daniel’s car was. That was proven when you were struggling with an upgrade package in Singapore. Some analysts compared the pace of the McLaren to the AlphaTauri, and said that the upgrades were really more like downgrades. 

When Daniel finished ahead of you, claiming sixth that race while you crossed the line in 17th, you were furious. You told the team that as a whole, you were much better than that. That the McLarens should not be finishing in the bottom five considering how successful you had been mid season. 

Those closest to you knew what you meant. You shouldn’t be finishing behind Daniel. 

Things weren’t perfect after that, despite going back to the old set up. You were back to fighting for points, but so was Daniel. And you hated it. You thought you could rely on the McLaren being better than the AlphaTauri, but you forgot to take into account that Daniel truly was one of the best drivers on the grid.

It got to the point where you and Ronnie had a code. If you finished ahead of him, on the radio, Ronnie would say way to go champ. If Daniel finished ahead of you and you weren’t already aware of it during the race, Ronnie would say there’s still work to be done. 

Again, those closest to you knew how much it meant to beat Daniel. 

You wanted to prove to him, and everyone but you wouldn’t lie to yourself it was mostly him, that you deserved that fucking seat. That you made the right choice by signing the contract, despite it meaning he was without a car for a few months. You shouldn’t have felt guilty for putting yourself first, your career first, if you were doing something great, which you were. 

Plus, the better you did, the less of a reason Daniel had to judge you. How could he still be upset with you for taking that McLaren seat when you were doing what he couldn’t? Scoring in the high points, being consistent, for the most part. How could he say that taking his seat was the worst thing you could have done when ultimately, it would boil down to jealousy? Daniel struggled in that McLaren, and he assumed you would too. That wasn’t the case. 

And deep down, even if you didn’t want to admit it, there was still a part of you that aimed to make Daniel proud. Even if you couldn’t get back to when you were each other's biggest fans, you hoped that he had moments when he looked at the driver standings and nodded to himself, smiling maybe, because even if you weren't on the best of terms, you were doing what he always knew you could do. 

You had no idea, but moments like that did come for Daniel. They were far and few between, rarely caught on camera or at least, never brought to your attention. You had no way of knowing Daniel was leaving the AlphaTauri garage, conflicted about how he felt about your accomplishments. You were doing better than him, there was no denying that. He just chose not to admit it.

The only time that season where you knew he was proud was at COTA. One of his favourite races on the calendar.

You qualified well, P3. That hadn’t happened since Silverstone. The race itself didn’t produce anything too horrible, aside from a few drivers at the back of the grid collided early on and unfortunately Daniel was one of them, being forced to retire. 

You, though, you were flying. Your biggest competition was Lando who had started P2, again, similar to Silverstone. For most of the race, your job was to defend Carlos who was aiming for that podium, wanting to take P3 from you. 

Typically, you would have boxed first. That’s usually what happened to give Lando the advantage. And with Carlos most likely being on an undercut strategy, you expected the call to come in to box ahead of him. 

But that didn’t happen. Instead, you watched Lando pull into the pit lane, giving you the automatic second place position. In your mirrors, you watched as Carlos pulled into the pits as well.

“What’s going on?” You asked Ronnie through the headset. 

“Plan F.”

Plan F was one you joked about, but never actually executed. Plan Fight you and Lando called it, but both of you knew that you’d never actually be given the go ahead to fight it out for the podium positions, not wanting to risk damage to the cars.

“Plan F?” You repeated, the shock in your voice evident. That made for good content on F1 Twitter.

“Box this lap,” Ronnie instructed before going on to explain. “Carlos is struggling with his pace, we believe his main goal will be to defend.”

From what you knew, Lewis was behind him, and if Carlos was struggling with his pace he wouldn’t be fighting for a podium, he’d be fighting to keep that fourth place position. 

Which meant you and Lando were also free to fight. 

Pitting for new tyres dropped you back a bit, but it didn’t take long at all until you were right on Lando’s tail again. You stayed there for the majority of the last half of the race, the gap wavering anywhere between half of a second to three seconds behind. 

You tried to pass, truly. But Lando’s defensive game had always been strong. You looked for the opportunities in the corners, along the straights, but it wasn’t until the third to last lap did the chance come. 

You had closed the gap as much as you could, not needing to worry about whoever was behind you, you figured it was still Carlos. As you approached the back straight, you knew Lando was expecting you to dart to the left in an attempt for an overtake on the inside, you had tried it in five out of the last ten laps and each time you were still left eating his dust. 

You veered slightly to the left, giving Lando the impression that was your goal and the second he made the move to defend, you steered the car to the right and gave it everything you had. It was a tricky move, vying for the outside overtake going into the tight corner, but when it seemed to work out, you had the inside line for the following turn and Lando was soon in your mirrors. 

He tried to take that position back, but you took advantage of the clear air and set off, determined for your first podium, determined to finish ahead of Lando.

Lando ended up claiming third, crossing the finish line only a second after you did. After a victory lap, where he jokingly flipped you off, the two of you pulled into parc ferme. Immediately, you collapsed into Lando, arms tight around him because not only was this a success for you, but for the team. Both McLaren drivers on the podium for the first time this season.

Through the cheers, you could hear Lando yell something about making history. Whether that was in regards to both of you or the fact that you were the first female to ever podium in F1, you weren’t sure. It didn’t matter anyway. You just knew you were proud.

You jumped into the arms of your team next, those standing behind the barrier. Adrenaline was pumping through you, you just wanted to celebrate with everyone. When you eventually took your helmet off, a few tears were streaming down your face and you didn’t even think about the risk of turning into the new George Russell crying meme. 

You were shaking as you stood in the cool down room, too amped up to sit. Max had been through this dozens of times before. Nor was this Lando’s first podium either, but you were on top of the world.

The ceremony went by in a blur. As did the post race conference. You really did try to take in each second of it, thankful that Lando was there at your side the entire time. This entire process was new to you and if Lando wasn’t in your ear telling you to breathe, where to go, to enjoy the moment, you would have been a mess.

There was so much that happened following that race, there was no way you could have known what was going on with any of the other drivers. It wasn’t until you got back to your hotel room at the end of the day with instructions to ‘get changed because we’re going out’ from Lando, did you see what you had missed.

It felt like hours since you even looked at your phone. You had called your parents, but you didn’t have much time for anything else. Now that you were sat on the edge of your bed, you were able to scroll through your texts and notifications. 

You were able to see the clip you were tagged in way too many times, on way too many platforms.

It was short, but any longer and you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. You clicked play and watched the video of you crossing the finish line. Lando was following behind, but whatever broadcast this was from didn’t care about his finish. The shot switched to Daniel, from where he stood in the AlphaTauri garage.

Whoever was filming caught his live reaction of you coming second at COTA.

The nod, the faint curl of the corner of his lips because as much as he tried, he couldn’t fight the smile on his face as he watched you take your first podium position in F1, something that he once dreamed for you.

But you not being part of his dreams anymore didn’t mean that he stopped wishing you accomplished yours. 

This brought you back to the first video you watched of him a few years back, before you even met him, where he spoke so highly of you. He wanted you to succeed so badly back then and he wanted to be at your side while you did so.

Now here you were, succeeding, but where was Daniel?

Maybe that’s where some of his hostility lied. You didn’t need him, clearly. Or at least, that’s what he thought. 

The reality was, you wanted to prove you could do this without him, but you wished you didn’t have to. 

You were conflicted, you both were. And it didn’t help that you weren’t speaking civilly to each other because my god a simple conversation would probably do wonders for both of you. 

That was Lando’s thought, as he sat down next to you in the booth and handed you the glass of coke, no rum much to his dismay. You didn’t drink during the season, even if you had something to celebrate, Lando knew this. Champagne on the podium was the only exception.

Tonight, though, as you sat in your thoughts and replayed the image in your mind of Daniel smiling up at the screen, you figured that another exception wouldn’t hurt. 

You turned down the coke and grabbed his drink instead, downing it in one gulp and instantly regretting it because you were fairly certain it was tequila based and tequila just wasn’t something you ever enjoyed. Lando laughed and handed you the coke to chase it down with. 

“You’re letting loose tonight?” He asked, sitting down beside you. His arm stretched across the bench behind your shoulders. He didn’t even try stifling his chuckle as you struggled with the bitter taste left in your mouth.

“I need to,” you answered. 

“You deserve to,” he corrected. Lando reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet and then a sleek black card. He didn’t say anything to you, nor to the server who came by and knew that by him dropping the card on the table meant he was asking for bottle service. 

It wasn’t long before you had a row of shots to split between the two of you and a few others who had crowded the booth, some you knew, some you didn’t. Not that it mattered, you just wanted to drink, you didn’t care who you were with.

Lando being there was a godsend, though. He knew that you were a lightweight and told you that the glass in your hand was a vodka soda when in reality he asked the server for you to just be given water after a few hours of the most carefree drinking he had ever witnessed from you. 

The music was blaring, you had gotten up to dance at one point, but you kept finding your way back to the booth. Clubbing wasn’t your thing and Lando, whether he liked it or not, was an anchor for you tonight. He kept you safe, kept you from drowning in the sea of people and alcohol. 

He could do a lot that night, but he couldn’t prevent the inevitable storm that was Daniel Ricciardo making an appearance at that Austin night club.

Lando saw him first and turned to you with the intention of suggesting that you both called it a night. But no words came out when he saw the painful look of desire and despair mashed together on your features as you spotted the Australian driver. 

You didn’t drink often, but if you did, you would know that feelings are often elevated under the influence. You’d also know that alcohol lowers inhibition, giving you a false sense of security to say what was really on your mind.

“I don’t get it,” you spoke quietly and Lando leaned in closer to hear you over the music blasting from all corners. 

“Get what?”

You pulled your gaze off of Daniel before you could accidentally make eye contact and looked at your teammate instead. He seemed concerned for you, he always did when Daniel was involved. 

Lando always did what he could to get your mind off Daniel and the past. He was a good friend, a good person to have in your corner but he wasn’t who you wanted there at the end of the day. You had grown to love Lando, not in the way you loved Daniel, though, so you couldn’t deny that you wished it was the Aussie sitting next to you in the booth, celebrating your podium. You hated that you wanted that.

“Do you miss him, still?” Lando prompted, knowing you had lost your train of thought. 

When you shook your head, Lando gave you a look that clearly showed he didn’t believe you, but it was true. You didn’t miss Daniel. What you felt was much worse.

“I don’t miss him,” you answered, glancing towards him again. He stood at the bar talking to a girl that you envied because at least she was talking to him. “But I think he’s my missing piece.”

You hadn’t felt whole since the day you and Daniel split. You walked out of his flat but you left a piece of you there, a piece you desperately tried to get back through race weekends and training and distractions but it was no use. It would always belong to Daniel and you feared he had no intention of giving it back. You feared, that no matter how much time had passed, you’d always feel a little incomplete. 

You stood up to leave soon after, thanking Lando for the drinks and assuring him you’d send a text when you got back to the hotel. 

Lando tried to follow you to the door, wanting to tell you that he would go with you, the concerned friend making another appearance, but before he could get a word out he watched as someone cut him off, also making a direct line towards the door of the club.

It took Lando a second to realise it was Daniel who was walking after you now. Lando just stood there and raised his hand to the back of his neck, asking himself if he had just made a mistake by not stopping Daniel.

When Lando asked the next morning if Daniel spoke to you, you gave him a questionable look, telling him that you didn’t talk to him at all. Lando explained that he had seen Daniel leave the club right after you, but you just shrugged, chalking it up to getting into the uber before Daniel had the chance to catch up to you.

But Lando saw the photos. He, like everyone else, saw images of Daniel climbing into the car right after you. He wasn't the least bit surprised you lied about it. 

You didn't want to tell Lando that Daniel had grabbed the side of the car door before you could shut it, pulling it back just enough for him to slide into the backseat next to you. You shuffled over to make room, but you couldn’t get a single word out. All liquid courage vanished and instead your palms were clammy, the car felt stuffy and you couldn’t even look at him.

Daniel as well, didn’t say anything. His legs were spread out slightly, knee hitting yours as his hands were folded together in his lap. 

Why did he follow you?

This was the first time in ages you had been alone together, minus the driver. 

The hotel was a short drive away, but it felt like ages, the two of you sitting in uncomfortable silence. You weren’t bickering like you often did if you were in the same room, but at this point you’d rather that than whatever this eeriness was. 

You thought maybe, maybe, this was your saving grace. Maybe Daniel had followed you out of the club to tell you he was proud of you, to tell you he still loved you, to tell you he was tired of this feud and wanted you back.

But the longer you sat in silence, the more it sank in that that wasn’t the case. 

You used to love each other. Now you couldn’t even hold eye contact.

Daniel waited until the driver pulled onto the street of your hotel before saying anything. 

“Checo’s gone after this year.”

You turned to him, unsure if you had heard correctly. “What?”

“He’s gone,” Daniel repeated, more confident this time, still not looking at you though. “Marko told me on Friday.”

You had way too much alcohol flowing through your system to be able to process this. Checo’s contract wasn’t supposed to be up until the end of 2024. 

But Nyck’s wasn’t supposed to be up in June and Daniel’s wasn’t supposed to be done at McLaren in 2022. These things happened in Formula 1, as unfortunate as it was for the driver getting the boot, these things often happened. 

And Daniel…why did he know this information? Why didn’t the rest of the grid know it? Did Checo even know?

You inhaled sharply, “Does this mean-”

“The news is dropping tomorrow morning, but I wanted you to know first,” Daniel cut you off, his forehead creased with tension. His jaw was clenched, like he wasn’t happy to be saying this but felt the need to anyway. “I’m driving for Red Bull next year.”

The first thought that came to mind was he’s done it again. Taking another driver's seat before their contact ended. 2-1 now. He was officially a shittier person than you were and you so badly wanted to rub it in his face. 

But you could see now that that was why he told you personally. He didn’t want to wait until you heard the news like everyone else, he didn’t want to give you an opportunity to attack him for this, to make him feel like the bad guy even though that’s how he made you feel this entire season so far.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t all that difficult to bite your tongue. 

“Congratulations,” you settled on, quietly but you meant it and you caught him off guard because he truly was expecting some sort of lashing out. 

The driver pulled up to the hotel right at that second and you thanked him before stepping out, not giving Daniel a second look, again catching him off guard because you always looked back at him when you were together. 

Daniel waited a second. And then a few more before he bolted out of the car and into the hotel. You had made it to the elevator by that point and Daniel had to slide his hand between the doors to keep them from shutting. You watched as he pushed his way in and just like the car ride, said nothing.

You were on your way up to the twelve floor and Daniel waited until you arrived at the level before opening his mouth, waiting till the last second, wanting to cling onto this civil moment with you because who knew when it would come again?

“You’re not mad?” He asked.

The door opened and you had to brace yourself before standing up straight and walking out of the elevator, needing a moment to remember what side of the hall your room was on.

“I’m livid,” you answered, honestly. You were happy for him, but you were also angry about the situation. You didn’t know it was possible to feel both things at once, but in your drunk state, it was extremely possible. 

“Livid?” Daniel walked behind you, trying to gauge the rest of this conversation because you didn’t sound livid. 

“Enraged,” you said.

“Enraged,” he repeated.

“I want to wring your neck, Daniel,” you said, hearing him chuckle behind you because you didn’t sound the least bit threatening as you fumbled to unlock the hotel room door. The lock kept lighting up red and after your third failed attempt, Daniel took the card from your hand and unlocked it with ease, pushing the door open for you. 

You didn’t thank him, instead relying on the wall once you stepped inside to lean against as you pulled your heels off. Daniel followed you inside, standing at a cautious distance until you dropped your shoes because part of him thought that maybe you would throw them at him. You were enraged after all.

You weren’t sure why he was still there. He had told you what he wanted to tell you and he had no reason to still be hanging around. 

“What?” You finally asked, now sounding a little more on the annoyed side as you turned to stare at him. “What do you want? Why are you still here?”

“I want to talk.”

“About what?” You scoffed at him. “About the Red Bull contract? Congratulations, Danny. You deserve it. You deserve every fucking seat on this grid apparently.”

There it was.

“I knew you were mad.”

“I said I was mad!” You exclaimed, appalled that he was saying it like he discovered what you had already made perfectly clear. “I’m pissed, Dan. You have such a cult following that no one is going to bat an eye at you taking Checo’s seat, just like no one complained about you taking Nyck’s. Whereas I do it, I get offered the chance of a lifetime, to make history and I’m considered the villain? I didn’t end your contract, Daniel, I just replaced you and for some reason, no one cares about that narrative! They just care about you.”

You were yelling now. Daniel was probably regretting having followed you but it was too late for him to turn and walk out at this point.

“You know what the shitty part is?” You asked, stepping closer to him. Daniel could smell the vodka on your breath. That's how minimal the distance was between you. The last time you were this close you were wanting to rip his head off outside the AlphaTauri garage. 

“What?” He raised his eyebrows. Daniel couldn’t even begin to guess where you were going with this.

“This news is going to drop and my name is going to be circulating in the media again. They’re going to compare this, you taking his seat, to me taking yours. I will never be known as the first female signed to McLaren. I will forever be linked to you, no matter what you do in this fucking sport.”

You shook your head at him when he stayed silent. Pulling your eyes off of him, the heaviest exhale passed through your lips and you turned around, wanting this night to end. After you waved your hand in the air you muttered something about how he could see himself out.

But he didn’t go anywhere. 

And because he didn’t go anywhere and because you were drunk, you easily thought of more to say.

“You didn’t even like McLaren,” you sighed as you turned back around to face him, leaning against the wall. Your head was spinning. Maybe if you were lucky, this conversation wasn’t actually happening and it was a drunk figment of your imagination.

“No, but I loved you.” 

You definitely didn’t imagine him saying that.

“I loved you,” he repeated, the past-tense admittance felt like a stab to your chest. “And I wanted nothing more than to race alongside you without feeling the need to prove something, to be your partner off the grid. I wanted to love you and race at the same time and you ruined that.”

All you could do was shrug your shoulders. You had said everything you needed to say at this point in defence of your contract, “I’m a driver, Dan. The race, the seat, it comes first, everything else second. You of all people know that.”

“We could have had both.”

Both. Love and a spot in Formula 1. 

Clearly not.

“Could we have?” You asked, unsure if you even had an answer, but you needed him to really think about it. To think about it if that really was a possibility for the two of you. 

Daniel and you held each other's stares for a minute, waiting for the other to say something. You were still waiting, hoping, for him to say he was proud of you, that he still loved you, that it didn’t matter what happened in the past, but it did matter. Daniel was still waiting for a sincere apology, but you had nothing to apologise for. Signing that McLaren contract was the best thing you’d ever done for yourself, despite the strings to Daniel you had now found yourself tangled in, McLaren was where you were supposed to be.

“I’m tired, Dan,” you shook your head and glanced towards your room down the hall. Physically, mentally, you were drained. And you weren’t ready for what was to happen tomorrow when his contract news came to light.

It didn’t even feel like you had gotten a podium a few hours ago. The last thing you wanted to do was celebrate. You just wanted to crawl into bed and forget that Daniel had followed you here.

He didn’t stop you as you walked down the hall. He waited for you to look at him, but again, you were past that. What was a second look going to do at this point? You wiped your makeup off as best as you could and slid under the covers of your bed, quickly falling into a dreamless sleep.

And sure enough, the news dropped of his contract, of his new seat, and it wasn’t long before people started comparing it to what you had done the year prior. 

The first thing you saw when you woke up that morning, aside from the glass of water that Daniel had put next to your bed, was the news alert on your phone stating that Daniel was to replace Checo for 2024. 

The second article you read was about you. Speculating how you would feel about Daniel’s permanent return. The article highlighted the moments of your relationship, starting from the day he signed on to be your mentor to the time in the AlphaTauri garage when you were fighting over the qualifying lap he ruined.

And then there was a photo of you climbing into the car from last night, followed by Daniel getting into the car shortly after.

His name was trending. Your name was trending. Half the people online cared about his return to RBR. The other half wanted to know if you two were getting back together.

No one gave a single shit that you made history yesterday, landing that podium. 

You were the first female to score a podium position in Formula 1 and all anyone cared about was your connection to Daniel. Just like when you won the Monaco Grand Prix during F2, all anyone cared about was Daniel’s influence in your racing. When you were signed to McLaren, all anyone cared about was how you were replacing Daniel.

Daniel. Daniel. Daniel.

People didn’t care about your accomplishments. They only wanted to find a way to connect them all to Daniel.

You scrolled through the article and a new one was suggested for you at the bottom of it. Why Y/N Y/L/N Owes Her Career to The Honey Badger.

Instead of reading it, you threw your phone with as much strength as you had down the hall, out of your sight. You heard it hit the floor and slide across the hardwood. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you read something positive about yourself without a hint of Daniel’s influence. 

This wouldn’t have been as hard of a pill to swallow if he was still in your life the way you wanted him to be. If he really was still at your side, supporting you, cheering you on, you could look past the articles and speculations about how he was the only reason you were in the sport. It wouldn’t matter what people were saying if Daniel was in your ear reminding you of your potential, reminding you that you deserved that F1 seat.

But he wasn’t going to do that, not anymore. What you had was gone and you were left with the bitter memories and an unforgiving path you had to walk alone to prove yourself in this field.

You wanted to prove you didn’t need Daniel, but the entire world was making it their mission to remind you that at one point, you did. Maybe you still did, maybe you didn’t know who you were without him because let’s face it, everything you did on the track still revolved around him.

You cared about where he finished. You went out of your way to outscore him and only him. You didn’t do anything to relieve the tension in the paddock. You were very much playing into the narrative that he was still a key player in your life.

How could the world move on if you hadn’t?

Hearing footsteps make their way towards you, you sat up in bed, already knowing it was Daniel who didn’t leave when he should have.

You weren’t concerned about your appearance, he had seen you in a much worse state. He had better mornings as well, still wearing his clothes from last night, the bags under his eyes gave away the fact that he was about as tired as you were.

He had your phone in his hands, but he didn’t spend much time looking at the article on the screen. Instead, he dropped it to the table next to him and leaned against the doorframe, exhaling a heavy breath.

You didn’t move, content with the distance between you now because you had to be. Despite wanting nothing more than to be with him, you couldn’t have that anymore. Everything had to be at a distance.

Your phone chimed. Once, twice, and then about four more times. You knew it was people telling you about Daniel’s contract, not knowing that you had been given the inside scoop last night. 

At one point, you loved being connected to Daniel. Now, it was a burden. It was haunting. Each time someone mentioned him to you, sent you something about him, asked you a question about him, you were reminded that the connection was gone. 

Your lips parted and you had to take a quick, self-assuring breath before finally saying what had to be said.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Do what?” 

Your entire body trembled as you spoke, “You know what, Daniel.” 

Of course he did. He was as tired as you were. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this and yet here you were, staring at each other knowing that you were both too far gone to ever find your way back. 

You thought, maybe, possibly, you could work things out. For a brief moment, when you knew he was proud of you, you thought you saw a silver lining amongst the grey skies. And maybe you did, maybe it was there, but it was way beyond your grasp. You couldn’t reach out and grab it, you could only dream of it.

There was one solution. One that broke you, knowing you were stuck with it. You didn’t want to admit it. You wished you could push it down and keep living the way you had but you just couldn’t do it anymore. 

You were tired. This was hopeless. You both needed closure, but he wasn’t going to say anything which meant you had to.

“I’m stuck, Daniel. I’m stuck living in the moments between the day we met and the day I left because those are the moments that meant the most to me and I haven't been ready to let them go. I’ve never wanted to move on but you forced me to. You forced me to become the bad guy, to do this without you, to grow without you, to prove that I don’t need you but I do need you, I’ve always needed you. From day one, I needed you. My first time in the F1 car, I needed you. If I crashed out, I needed you. I always needed you, Daniel, and then after a five minute conversation you decided that I didn’t anymore. You made that decision for me, for us.”

You paused, you took a breath, you weren’t done. Despite being so painfully close to breaking down, you weren’t done.

“And now here I am, finally succeeding, finally making history in this sport, but it doesn’t mean anything because no one cares unless they find a way to connect it to you. I will always be in the shadow of the man I love and for this entire season, I’ve let it happen because it was the only way you’d still be in my life.”

Daniel cleared his throat when he heard that four letter word, standing up a little straighter, “You still love me?”

You glanced down at the duvet wrapped around your hips. It was heavy, suffocating, much like this conversation. “Truthfully, Daniel, I can’t imagine the day I stop.”

Daniel didn’t need to say anything for you to know he no longer felt the same. He had stopped loving you the day you signed the contract with McLaren. He may have been proud of your achievements, he may have appeared to have extended a short olive branch, one that gave you false hope, but he didn’t love you. 

Because it always came back to that one question. How could he love you- how could he be in your corner when you had pushed him out of his own? You may not have been the one to initiate his leave, but you gave him that final shove. 

That was a move you had to live with. 

“I love you,” you repeated, your eyes then trailing towards your phone where that stupid article was still displayed on the screen. “I always will, but I can’t be tied to you anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”

Even though Daniel was the one that had broken up with you all those months ago, this hurt more. Hearing you finally cut ties, knowing you didn’t want to be done but had to be, broke him. There was no salvaging this. 

“I think-” your voice cracked as you spoke, but for the sake of this conversation you did your damn best to hold it together. “I think we need to be done.”

We are done, Daniel wanted to say, but he knew there was more to your words.

Watching your bottom lip quiver made him want to pull you into his arms one last time. He wanted to apologise and hold you close before the tears could fall. 

“No more comments to the media,” you stated firmly. Daniel nodded. 

You were stronger than him, maybe you always were. Daniel could barely get a word out and here you were, laying down what had to happen moving forward.

“No more interactions,” you then said, raising your hand to your arm, a soothing gesture or maybe an anxious one, he couldn’t tell. “No more- no more following me out of clubs for people to see. No more giving anyone a reason to connect us. I don’t want you in my life as anything more than another driver on the grid. You’re not my teammate. You’re not my partner. You’re not in my corner. I don’t want to worry about what you think about me anymore. I don’t want to worry about where you finish and I don’t want you to care about where I’m at. I want you to focus on driving just like I want to focus on driving. That’s it. That’s who we are. We’re drivers, Daniel. That’s all we’ve ever been. Strip back every layer of us and racing remains. That’s how it should be. We’ve-” you sucked in a breath, your words getting caught in your throat for a second. “We’ve always known that, I think. That at the end of it all, we’re drivers first. We were foolish to think we could be anything more.”

You couldn’t have both. You couldn’t be in love while on the grid together.

You were only ever drivers. That’s why you signed the McLaren contract. That’s why Daniel didn’t think twice before replacing Nyck and now Checo. You both put your careers first. It wasn’t selfish, it was in your blood, and you couldn’t hold it against each other anymore. 

And you couldn’t hold onto it either.

As much as you liked to think there would come a day where you would still be in love, both of you on the grid, you accepted now that it would never happen. It was a dream, one you had to let go of. You had to mend the hole in your chest that he created. You couldn’t let him be that missing piece.

You had to respect Daniel as a driver, much like he had to with you. But that was it. No more conversations. No more subtle comments made about each other or to each other. You needed distance. No more missed looks in the paddock, because surely someone with a camera would catch it. No more watching the screen if the other was showcased. No more petty feuds. No more interactions. No more caring.

You had to cut ties with Daniel. It was the only way you could focus on yourself and your career.

Surely, enough time would pass where an article would be written about you that didn’t mention his name and his assistance in getting you to where you were now. But that wouldn’t happen if you were still holding onto him. You had to let go for the rest of the world to.

Daniel pushed himself away from the wall without saying a word. You watched, tense, as he slowly made his way towards you and sat down next to you on the bed. Knees touching like they were in the car ride last night. As you turned your head and stared up at him, you could make out the details in his face that you used to cherish, that you had memorised so early on in your relationship. 

But he had changed. There was a sliver of unfamiliarity in his eyes, a reminder that this wasn’t the Daniel who was in love with you anymore.

You had to look away.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you whispered. You kept your hands folded in your lap, worried that if you unclenched your fingers you would reach out for him. 

Daniel nodded, agreeing with you. He raised his arm up, tucking it over your shoulders and pulling you against his side. You inhaled a sharp breath at the gesture, knowing this would be the last time you’d feel his touch. He rubbed his hand over your arm, neither of you thinking to say anything else, because there really was nothing left to say.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You were supposed to be in love. 

And maybe, in another world, you would be. If you didn’t make the move to F1, you could still be in love. If you settled with F2, if you moved to a different series, he could still support you and you could still be his biggest fan. 

But you were drivers. Career focused, determined, passionate drivers who wanted nothing more than to win. You both craved the honour and prestige of a Formula 1 seat more than anything, more than each other. You’d be lying if you thought otherwise.

You were drivers, so inevitably, it was always going to end like this.

__________________

is this the finale or is there one more chapter for these loveless drivers?

taglist: @torossosebs@whatthefuckerr@jspitwall@oconso@tsarinablogs@landowecanbewc@somanyfandomsbruh@christianpulisic10@storminacloud@sunnytkm23@formula1mount@azxulaa@icarus-nex@spideyspeaches @moonvr @destourtereaux @baw-sixteen @cinderellawithashoe @love4lando @alesainz @blueanfield @itsmeempar @vellicora

for some reason im struggling to add anyone else to the taglist, i deeply apologise. i would recommend turning on post notifs but i know its sometimes annoying, but i rly am struggling with my mentions

[angels-sins0]

i beg you to continue with this fic of ghost, i want reader to gain some strength and make something 😭

Ghost x f!reader

Cw: I apologize in advance, emotionally (un)available Simon, age gap relationship (Simon is depicted in his late 30’s and the reader is around 21), older man!Ghost, young & naive!reader, slight spoilers for MWIII, brief mention of a developing alcohol addiction, hurt/no comfort, angst, screaming and crying, please don’t kill me for this.

Six months had passed since you last saw Simon. Truth be told, you’ve never felt better than you do right now.

You had moved out of your apartment three months ago after getting a promotion at your job, earning more money than you ever thought of having.

Life was good without him. You didn’t have to worry about getting your feelings hurt anymore.

Simon on the other hand, had been going through the worst months of his life.

He lost a good friend of his while on a mission which resulted in him frequenting the bar close to his house more than he’d like to admit.

Work was hard then and it was even harder knowing he couldn’t see you or hear your soft voice again.

He hated whatever it is he felt when he thought about you and the last time you were together. He despised himself for the way he treated you.

He missed your sweet laugh and the way your eyes lit up each time you saw him even if he proceeded to ruin you moments later.

What was it about you that made him feel weird inside whenever he thought of you? If only he felt that way when you were still with him.

Simon felt like he saw you everywhere around him, like you were with him no matter what he did. It was a strange feeling at first but he had learned to succumb to the comfort it brought him.

It didn’t help that you were the main star in his dreams more often than not. Whether it be dreams where he fought harder to have you back in his life or him fucking you in your bed, a guilty part of him enjoyed the latter.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to see you, had to look at your face one more time, hold you in his arms and never let you go again.

Simon stood in his apartment and contemplated if he actually wanted to do this.

What if you didn’t want to see him?

What if he was too late and you had found someone who treated you the way you deserved?

He had to try, right? Sure he would be hurt if you didn’t want him anymore but at least he would have some kind of closure.

And so, he made his way to your new place. He had gotten the address from Laswell but not before she made some snarky comment about him finally “getting laid”.

Simon knocked on your door and stood looking down at his feet.

Then you opened the door and he swore his heart could’ve popped out of him at that moment.

“Hey,” he breathed out, but you just stood there, rendered completely speechless by the fact that he was actually in front of you.

“H-how did you find me?” You said after a few moments of silence.

“I’ve got my ways.” He said plainly. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do.

Should you let him in?

All the while, you both just stared at each other.

“Do you want to…?” What the hell do people even say in these situations?

“Only if you want me to.”

And so, you moved to let him in, closing the door behind you and leading him to sit on the couch.

It was awkward. You didn’t even look at each other, just sat there in silence.

“Why are you here, Simon?” You asked. Why the hell would he show up now?

“I’ve been…thinking a lot about where we left things off.” He looked at you and you nodded slowly at his words.

“And?”

“And I think— I know I was an asshole to you and you didn’t deserve the way I treated you.” He sighed, and you stared at him, dumbfounded.

“It took you six months to figure that out?” You didn’t know what it was exactly that made you so angry. Was it his audacity to show up after all that time and think you’d be okay with it?

Simon went quiet again.

You stood up from the couch. “Do you have any idea what it’s been like for me the entire time you were away? How long I spent crying over something that wasn’t real? We had nothing! And i still felt like you were everything to me…even when I knew you’d never feel that way about me. Did you really think that—I would…let you in again after all this time?”

You couldn’t help the sob that escaped you, covering your face with your hands to wipe away your tears so he couldn’t see them.

He got up as well, slowly approaching you and he gently pulled you into his arms. You reluctantly relaxed into him, the tears still falling from you.

“I’m sorry for making you feel like this…I wish I was better—i want to be better…” Simon cupped your face with one hand, the other still wrapped around you and placed his forehead on yours.

With your eyes still closed, you hadn’t realized he’d lifted his mask up above his mouth. Your faces were impossibly close and he leaned in to connect your lips together in a kiss.

You felt like you were being controlled by something and it made you kiss him back, even when part of you wanted to push him away.

It went on for a couple of seconds before you eventually pulled back and stared at him.

“Is this what you’re really here for?” You said, voice laced with a hint of anger.

“No! Fuck, no! I wanted to calm y’down and it just happened.”

“I wanna be better and i wanna make you happy but most of all I want you to forgive me for how things were between us.” He was almost pleading, his eyes searching yours for any emotion.

You couldn’t help but scoff.

“All these words…and you still kissed me with your mask on, what does that tell you, Simon?”

He stayed silent. “It tells you that no matter what we have, you’ll never be able to feel like you can let your guard down around me.”

“But i-“

“And if we really decide to do this, what happens when you think i’m not enough or when you feel like you don’t want me anymore? How the hell am I supposed to be okay with that?! It took me six months to start feeling better even though what we had was nothing!”

“You are enough! For fuck’s sakes, you are all I’ve ever wanted!”

“Then show me who you are! I’m never gonna be able to love you if I don’t fucking know you, Simon!”

“You know I can’t do that…”

“Well, then you have your answer…” You looked down, not wanting to see his face anymore.

But he couldn’t look away from you, part of him knowing this was the last time he’d ever see you so he wanted to memorize everything about you.

“I think you should go.” You said, breaking the silence between you. “Please don’t try to come here again.”

You looked up at him and for the first time since you’ve known him, Simon looked hurt. You couldn’t help but feel a pang in your heart at the sight of him standing there, trying to salvage whatever this was but ultimately failing.

“Right…”

“I’m sorry for everything I did to you.” Were the last words he spoke before leaving.

On his way home, he had this weird feeling in his chest that he couldn’t explain, it made him realize why he was always so closed off and why he never tried to have something with someone.

Simon has always had this unexplainable fear of being rejected and left alone, and tonight, you invoked that fear further into him.

He had two thoughts that kept circling through his head.

He was never going to love again.

And the second one that pained him every time he would think about it.

You were gone and there was nothing he could do about it.

@ghost-is-my-bbg , @evehasdied , @darlingvinny , @dragonstoneshortcake , @dest-nai , @imhereforthespice , @graciewacey , @annoyinglysweetobject , @7thsthings , @kaa212 , @rorylover71 , @deareststhings , @dxrak , @ghostslillady , @kazuhyahs , @spookyboogyuniverse , @dangelus , @kenz-ee , @goodkittyspost , @puppybittingotherpuppy , @skulfan1 , @prttylilkittn , @emmalandry , @justgivingupsblog , @simpforfic , @ciggsaftersex , @massiveduckkidcookie , @c3r3al-k1ll3r887 , @riverbutghost , @spxctorslxxt , @marriedtoeddie , @delightfulwolflawyerfreak-blog , @sixxslut , @ghostslittlegf , @tf141glory , @ghostswife141 , @prazinos , @toastedkjeks , @naio-kummer , @sunsetsimon , @livingdead-g1rl , @chimochai , @yo1mamma , @loving-azerath , @lanadelreygirly777

[steddieas-shegoes]

Part 2 to this post

When gay marriage became legal, everyone expected Steve and Eddie to run to the courthouse and get it done.

They’d waited long enough.

But they were watching the news on a hospital room television instead of their home, keeping Wayne company while he received his last chemo treatment.

It had been a really rough six months, Eddie taking the brunt of caring for Wayne so Steve could work and pay the bills for all of them. But they wanted to.

Wayne had done so much for both of them, he deserved to be taken care of now.

The doctors had said he was getting to an age where the chemo would most likely only extend his life by a few years at most, that the cancer growing in his body would only be stopped temporarily by this drug that made him weaker than any cancer could.

At first, he didn’t want it. He told them both it wasn’t worth putting his body through it at his age, but Eddie convinced him through tears that he wasn’t ready to let him go yet.

And Wayne always did have a soft spot for Eddie’s tears.

Every other Friday, Wayne was brought to the hospital by Eddie, sometimes accompanied by Steve if his day off lined up right, hooked up to an IV of fluids and a harsh chemo mix, and kept for observation for 8 hours to ensure it didn’t cause any major issues on his frailer than he’d like to admit body.

The last treatment hadn’t gone well. Wayne ended up having low oxygen levels and high blood pressure, so they kept him overnight. Overnight turned into 3 nights, four days, which is sort of like a cruise to the Bahamas if you take out the fact they were in a hospital in Indiana.

Steve was holding Eddie’s hand as they all watched the tv, their silver wedding bands from a decade ago resting on their ring fingers.

It didn’t have to be legal to mean something to them.

Wayne had been much livelier over the last 24 hours, his blood pressure back at a normal for him level, though his oxygen level still fluctuated between too low and normal.

“Would ya look at that? They did it.”

Steve looked over at where he was sitting up in bed, smiling at the tv.

“They did.”

Eddie was wiping a tear from his cheek.

“Took them long enough.”

Everyone in the room huffed out an unamused laugh.

It did take way too long.

“Steve.”

Steve looked back over to Wayne and noticed he was looking tired again, like the news was the only reason he’d been forcing himself to be awake.

“You remember that bet?”

They’d made a lot of bets over the years, usually during March Madness. Wayne purposely bet against Steve because it was an easy win, even though they liked the same teams and often had similar brackets.

So no, he didn’t really remember whatever bet he was talking about now.

“Oh come on. I’m the old one here. You’re supposed to have great memory.”

“I’ve had like, eight concussions. My memory is like a goldfish.”

Eddie snorted next to him and nodded in agreement. Just this morning Eddie had to remind him that it was trash day despite it being the same day every week for the last 17 years they’d lived in their house.

“You owe me $5.”

“I’d remember that.”

“Eddie asked for you.”

Steve and Eddie looked at each other with concern. Was Wayne having a stroke? Was he slowly losing lucidity? He’d never shown any signs of memory problems, but sometimes being in the hospital had a lot of negative effects.

“When Eddie woke up in ‘86. I told you he’d ask for ya first and he did. Never collected on the bet because you two were too much.”

Steve suddenly remembered everything from that day, tears pooling in his eyes at how all of this started.

If he hadn’t stayed to hold Eddie’s hand then, would he be holding it now? Would they be husbands in every way but legally?

Steve looked at Eddie with a smile.

Then he turned to Wayne and smirked.

“Bet you $5 I propose right now.”

Wayne smirked back at him.

“Bet you won’t.”

Steve gave him the look that said ‘just watch me’ and stood up, dropping to one knee slowly.

“Eddie Munson. We already wear rings. We’ve lived together as husbands for so long, I can’t even believe we aren’t actually married. But I want to be. I want to fill out the stupid paperwork at the courthouse and maybe plan a little wedding with our kids and family. I want to have a honeymoon and be young and in love even though we aren’t young anymore. I want to be yours in every way starting right now. How does that sound?”

Eddie was crying. He was always more emotional than Steve, he just hid it better. Usually.

“You wanna be mine?”

“I’m already yours. I just want us to have everything.”

“Then I wanna be yours.”

“Good.”

Eddie leaned forward and kissed him, more passionately than they usually ever did in public or around Wayne. It was a special occasion, though, what choice did they really have?

After a minute, Steve pulled away and looked over to Wayne.

“Sorry about your $5.”

“I’m not.”

Wayne had never been more pleased to not be able to collect on a bet.

[bri-sonat]

Bloodied Waters

Pairing: Brienne of Tarth x Reader

Warnings: mentions of blood and slight violence, a tiny bit of angst, fluff, non-sexual nudity and intimacy. Slight canon deviation.

Synopsis: When Brienne returns covered in traces of battle, you give her comfort and safety - and a nice bath.

A/N: This has been sitting finished since July but I haven't wanted to post it for many reasons. For some reason I don't hate this fic anymore so I am taking the opportunity now so I can't revert back to my original state, lol. As per usual, English isn't my first language and all that.

Thank you to @daydream-cement for being the most supportive and encouraging friend I could ask for, and for reading this and giving me your opinion months ago.

Two months.

It had been two months since you had seen her last. Since she rode off to fight Gods knows what battle. In this time of uncertainty, you couldn’t be sure where she was sent off to anymore.

The imminent threat of the Night King and his army breaching The Wall weighed heavily on the land and it resulted in Brienne being away more than usual – but she had never been away this long.

You couldn’t be blamed when you began to wonder if she was still alive after the six-week mark and she hadn’t returned or been heard from. No one had from the company she had departed with. And when it hit eight weeks, your worries didn't get any better. 

So, they were all either dead or still fighting for their lives. Those were the only reasons your stress-ridden brain could come up with.

If she had been removed from this mortal realm, she would have died alone. Alone somewhere. Probably in immense pain.

Even if it hurt you to even entertain the thought, you hoped her possible death had been fast. That way, she didn’t have to suffer.

Your heartbreaking thoughts were cut short by the sound of a horn, signaling that the group had returned and to open the gate. From your window, you could see a band of people on horses, three of them unmanned, which made you feel uneasy.

It was usually easy to spot Brienne in a crowd of people, but her straw-blonde hair was nowhere to be seen. The pit in your stomach that had been growing over the past weeks seemed to drop when you couldn’t find her.

Maybe the chance of her losing in battle was more probable than you had been willing to accept.

But until someone explicitly told you that she had perished in battle, you would have hope for her survival.

You witnessed as the gate was opened and the warriors rode in - the people and horses disappearing from view before the gate was once again closed.

Staring out the window and waiting for a knock on your door was only going to drive you mad, so you decided to pass the time in some other way.

Scurrying about your room, you tried finding something to do but restlessness got the better of you, and you soon found yourself waiting for that knock on the door that could either be the face of your love, or the worst possible news.

After fifteen minutes of silence, you started to land in the fact that she may not have returned, and the person who knew about your relationship was slowly making their way to your room to deliver the bad news.

You couldn’t take the agonizing pain so you left your room to venture for some hot water – hoping a nice hot bath might allow your tense body to relax. If even in the smallest bit.

When you returned to your room, hot water acquired, you were surprised to discover that there was no one waiting outside your door, nor had you met someone on your walk to or from. It was strangely silent.

The bath basin sitting in the adjacent room to yours looked more and more inviting by the second and you sprang into action before the water in your hands turned cold.

Pouring the large water cans with hot water into the vessel, you pondered how it would be to bathe with Brienne. How it would be to have such calm intimacy with the person you loved more than anything in this world.

The thought made you the tiniest bit sad and even if you wanted to keep the image in your head for as long as you could, you knew it was better to think about something else for now until you knew that the fantasy was a possibility.

You filled the rest up with the cold water from the large bucket next to the basin so it would even out to a nice lukewarm temperature.

Just as you were about to take your clothes off, a knock on the door disrupted your actions and you nearly ran to the door to open it – desperate for any piece of information regarding Brienne.

When you opened the door, you were met by a face you knew all too well, only this time, it was covered in dried blood, grime, and dirt. “Brienne, oh, Gods.”

You reacted quickly by ushering her inside your room and closing the door after her. She didn’t say a single word and her eyes were empty – apathetic and void of any emotion.

You didn’t know if the blood was hers or not but there was only one way to find out.

Carefully, you sat her down on your bed and undid her sword belt and fur cape before you began removing each piece of her dark armor, sneaking eventual glances at her emotionless face, your heart breaking each time she did not even make a move to look at you. She just stared dead ahead.

Never had you seen her like this before.

When all her armor was discarded, you were hit with the stench of iron, sweat, and mud – the smell of what you assumed to be battle. You moved your attention to her gambeson and gloves, working fast to get everything off to assess her condition – if she had been injured or not.

You remained quiet throughout your entire undressing of your girlfriend, if Brienne wanted to talk – she would. You assumed she needed some silence to process everything and just enjoy being back in a safe location.

The moment her gambeson and the rest of her clothing had been removed - you took hold of her dirty hands to guide her up to a standing position. You raked your eyes over her body and found nothing except for more blood, most likely having run down her neck and invaded the skin protected by the armor.

“The blood is not mine,” Brienne croaked out. The sudden noise made you jolt, your eyes snapping up to meet her desolate ones.

“Right...,” you responded, her statement confirming that she was not wounded in a way that would warrant blood. With your worries settled, you guided her to the other room. You had poured the bath for yourself, but she needed it more.

Slowly, she stepped in, her hand in a steadfast grip in yours as she descended into a sitting position until her entire body was underneath the surface – releasing a sigh once the water enveloped her.

You let go of her hand and grabbed a bar of soap sitting on the table next to the basin and she let the hand you had previously been holding fall under the water as well.

Brienne sat in the basin, staring into nothingness – her breathing slow. You rolled up your sleeves, kneeled next to the tub, and submerged the bar in the warm water before you began gently cleaning her skin from the stench and the mud and blood that tainted her soft skin.

Starting with her face and neck, you used your hands to gently apply the soap and you observed the suds turning a brownish red as it mixed with the blood and dirt on her skin.

As your eyes scanned her face, you noticed that her disheveled blonde hair had also been soiled by blood spatter and dried mud. 

“Close your eyes.” It was a gentle command, and Brienne complied – closing her eyes without question.

Using a cloth, you dunked it in the water and allowed it to soak before wringing it out – bringing it to Brienne’s face to wipe away the lather. You dipped it in the water again to rinse it, but you caught a glimpse of it before you did – the color of the froth alien on the white fabric.

With her face now clean, you moved on to her hair. 

Normally you’d utilize your own mixed hair wash for this, but you didn't wish to leave Brienne in her current state to go and collect it. Soap would have to do.

Your movements were slow and calculated as you pressed gently on the bottom of her chin, signaling for her to lean her head back. Brienne complied and tilted her head back and you maneuvered yourself so you could have the perfect view needed to wash her dirtied hair.

Utilizing one of the jugs you had carried the water with, you dipped it in the water to fill it up and used it to wet Brienne’s straw blonde hair, going over it once or twice before you were confident that all the strands were permeated.

You grabbed the bar of soap once again and dragged it against the palm of your hand – getting a decent amount on it before placing the bar to the side and rubbing your hands together. Tenderly, you started massaging the soaping into her blonde curls and scalp, making sure that all the dirt and blood loosened from her locks.

Brienne hummed as your hands mildly rubbed her head – adoring the alleviating feeling it gave her. The feeling of comfort and security. Her eyes were still closed, and she could feel the corners of her lips twitch the tiniest bit as you pressed a kiss to her forehead before moving to fill the jug with water to rinse the soap out of her hair.

You worked softly and slowly when you combed your fingers through her locks – pouring the water over her hair as you did, making sure that all the lather was washed away.

With her hair, face, and neck clean – it was time to wash the rest of her body.

You moved away from the head of the basin and switched to sit at the side of it again, kneeling next to it. You grabbed the bar of soap and immersed your hand into the water that was starting to turn red at this point and started to cautiously drag the bar across Brienne’s chest – removing all the dried blood and dirt.

Whilst one of your hands was in the water, the other one rested on the rim of the basin, right next to Brienne’s ear, and before you knew it, you felt her leaning her head against it. A small smile started playing on your lips at the intimate position you had found yourselves in.

You had never experienced this type of closeness with your knight before – it was incredibly heart-warming and you wouldn’t complain if you found yourself in this position again; without the blood and dirt, of course. 

Brienne’s head rested against the back of your hand at the same time as yours worked on washing her arms, hands, chest, stomach – anywhere you had seen dried signs of battle.

You enjoyed every single second of the casual intimacy. The fact that there were still new ways to be so deeply close even after so many months made you incredibly giddy inside even when the situation you discovered it in was somber.

Like it had the entire time, the only thing filling the silence in the room was the splashing of the water as it hit the sides with your hand continuing to move as it scrubbed Brienne’s skin. It remained like that for a very long time until the blonde woman opened her mouth to speak for the second time since she had come home. Your hand that was scrubbing her sides halted briefly before continuing - her voice surprising you. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You couldn’t help but inquire as to why she was thanking you. What you were doing right now only seemed like the most obvious choice. You took care of each other in any way the other person needed, and you were more than happy to offer her this small service.

She was quiet for a few seconds before she spoke again – her voice low, almost like a whisper. “For this... and for giving me a reason to keep fighting. It... It didn’t look very promising for a few moments, and I was... I was harboring the idea that I would never return to you again.”

You leaned forward to press a kiss to Brienne’s forehead as you continued scrubbing her skin beneath the surface of the water. “This is the least I can do for you... you take care of and for me every day. I wanted to return the favor. Thank you for coming back to me. And you’re welcome. I’m glad to provide you with a reason to keep fighting if it’ll bring you back to me each time.”

Brienne hummed and whined slightly when you removed your lips from her skin. To have someone care for her in the way you did made her feel so gleeful and she was so grateful for you and all you did for her. “Still... Thank you.”

“Anything for my knight.” You smiled as you washed her and finished your response – already knowing the next words coming out of her mouth.

The blonde woman chuckled slightly and silently, having had this exact interaction with you many times before. By now, she knew you did it as a way of making her smile and it worked; every single time. “I’m not a knight.”

“To me you are. You’re my knight.” You saw the smile that crept up on Brienne’s lips at hearing your words, even if she had heard them many times before at this point. “Besides, if you were a man, we both know you’d be a knight by now. You have the traits of a knight, so in my eyes, you are a knight. Even if you don’t have the title.”

Brienne adjusted her head to press a kiss to the back of your hand before returning to rest her cheek on it again. “You’re too nice to me. Thank you.”

“I only treat you in the way you deserve to be treated. Not my fault you’re such an incredible person.” You said this in a way that made Brienne smile and blush – something that you did with ease many times over the two years you had known the adorable knight. It only got worse once you began your relationship because it made you able to be more frank with your compliments.

The blonde didn’t offer a response to your words – silence filling the room once again. The way Brienne spoke about the battle, it seemed to have gone bad, so much so that she thought she wouldn’t make it. You knew she would talk to you about it if she needed to and you had no reason to ask but a part of you wondered what happened that caused her to see no hope.

The rest of the bath went by in tranquility, the occasional kiss on Brienne’s forehead and the planting of lips on your hand mixed with the comforting sounds of water making the second part of the experience a very pleasant one.

After helping Brienne out of the now red-stained water and planting her before the burning fire in the other room to dry with a fur wrapped around her, you told her to stay put before running as fast as you could to her room to collect her comb, and dry and clean clothes for her.

You didn't wish to leave her but the clothes she arrived in were bloody and dirty, and you knew Brienne would appreciate the gesture. 

When you returned, she sat with her legs drawn up to her chest with her arms wound around them on the fur you had put on her.

You slowly approached her and sat down next to her – her folded clothes placed on your bed, the comb resting on the pile. “Hi.”

Her skin was dry now. Her hair was still a bit damp but you knew it wouldn’t be long until it was fully dried as well.

Brienne sighed and leaned her head against your shoulder. She stared into the crackling fire – the flames dancing in her beautiful blue eyes. “...Hi.”

“How are you feeling?” You wrapped an arm around her naked form and pulled her close to you. You had missed her so much and you were not ready to let go anytime soon except to get undressed to join her in bed.

“Better now... A little tired.” Brienne hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks, and she was exhausted at this point. The adrenaline had finally worn off completely and she felt the fatigue creep up on her like she had expected it to once she was back in your safe company.

“It’s getting late... Do you want to go to sleep? I will deal with the water tomorrow.” The sun had started setting as you were washing Brienne and it had been well below the horizon for a while now. You pressed a kiss to the top of the knight’s head and awaited her answer.

“Yes, please.” Brienne sat snuggly in front of the warm hearth, but she knew that it was much nicer to be in your embrace. It was warm, cozy, and oh-so-comfortable.

“Okay... Let’s get you covered and tucked in.” You stood up and began removing the things scattered about the bed. Brienne’s discarded armor, her dirty clothes, her cape, and her sword were swept off the mattress and placed on a round table close to the hearth. Her clean clothes and comb remained on the bed, and you squatted down next to her to lay a hand on her shoulder. “Do you want to get dressed?”

Brienne leaned her head against your hand and closed her eyes. “No. I want to feel you pressed against me entirely. I don’t want clothing to restrict me from sensing all of you.”

You almost melted from her sweet words. You rubbed your thumb against her skin, the pad of it grazing against the tip of one of her scars. “Alright, my sweet Brienne.”

The knight lifted her head from your hand and you slid it down her arm – leaving it to rest on her bicep. You gently rubbed it up and down as she opened her eyes and stood up.

You swiftly removed the pile that was on the bed and placed them on the table as well. You would have to comb her hair tomorrow instead. 

With the bed empty, Brienne could pull off the furs and crawl in under them – covering her bare body and providing her with warmth and comfort for the first time in weeks.

She laid on her back as she watched you undress, folding your clothes and placing them on top of your trunk.

You finally crawled into bed and cuddled up next to Brienne, her skin incredibly soft. She hummed as you slung one arm and leg over her torso, bare skin against bare skin, and rested a hand on your thigh.

Her other arm went around your shoulders and pulled you closer – your head resting on her chest.

Her rhythmic heartbeat was a consistent reminder that she was indeed alive and still with you. After two months of being apart, the whole situation felt imaginary, but her steady heartbeat let you know that it was real – that she was indeed with you. “I can hear your heartbeat.”

Brienne’s hand on your thigh rested securely and her thumb drew soft lines across your skin. She smiled at your words as she kept her eyes closed to invite slumber. “It’s beating because and for you.”

Her words caused you to pull yourself even closer to her, which was impossible to do at this point. A smile and a blush crept up on your face, she always said the most adorable things and you had no idea what you did to deserve her love, but you were so thankful for her. “You’re sweet. I love you so much.”

Brienne chuckled quietly and you could tell she was close to falling asleep by her voice. “You bring out that side in me... what can I say? I love you, too. Thank you for being here when I returned.”

“I will always be here when you return,” you whispered. You were starting to feel the weeks of worried sleep catch up to you by now and you were more than ready to finally fall asleep in her embrace once again.

The only response Brienne gave was a hum and it fell silent after that.

You heard the knight’s breathing even out after a few minutes, and it signaled that she had fallen into a slumber that you hoped was a deep and restful one. You could only imagine the conditions she has been having to sleep in, and you couldn’t see them being comfortable.

You listened to her breathing and heartbeat for a few more seconds before sleep claimed you as well. Now back with a safe Brienne, you knew that you’d sleep incredibly well. You always did with her.

When you awoke the next morning, Brienne would kiss you all over to make up for two months of being away from one another. But that was up to you in the future to find out. Until then, you were more than happy to finally be with her again, and you remained clinging to your knight all night long.

------

taglist: @na-shoba, @pastanest, @the-fuck-do-i-know, @christies-fleur, @idontlikepexple, @lord6-6fandom, @sapphicmitski (can't tag you for some reason)

[tmpestuous]

Six Days

Summary: You make the effort to avoid Bucky during a mission after he upsets you in an argument, but things quickly take a turn for the worse. 

Pairing: bucky x avenger!reader

Word count: 4k

Warnings: fluff, angst, slight mentions of torture/hydra experimentation, blood, canon level violence, hurt!reader, sad!bucky

a/n: welcome to my first (real) post! i haven’t written in a long time so my apologies if this is a bit rusty. this was inspired by an excerpt on a post i saw and decided to turn it into a prompt: 

“He held her face in his hands. 

‘Do you think I care about anything but you?’”

--

You were on edge. 

This was the first mission in a long time where you hadn’t spent the night before with Bucky, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s arms, and waking up with another before heading off. Your regular routine almost happened. It would have happened if it hadn’t been for the argument that happened just about five minutes before you were ready for bed, an argument you deemed unnecessary and frustrating the second you stormed out of Bucky’s room and back into the one you barely spent any time in anymore. 

Not having that routine definitely threw you off your game. After dealing with a restless night and a series of tosses and turns, you decided to just stay up until you had to leave. 

Biggest mistake you could have ever made, you thought.

You packed everything you needed and, first thing in the morning, walked straight into the kitchen to fill up a thermos with a lot more coffee than you’d ever drink on a normal day before heading off to the quinjet launchpad without a word. Everyone else eyed you as you walked out; your usual, greeting nature was replaced by a silent one, a sight no one had seen since you first joined the Avengers. Once you exited, everyone’s eyes quickly turned to Bucky who had walked in just as silent. Though it was less rare for Bucky to avoid conversation, the two of you being separate was the clear elephant in the room.

Bucky looked up to meet everyone’s gazes on him, his brows furrowing immediately in annoyance.

“What’s the problem?” 

“Something going on between you and Y/n?” Sam asked without hesitation. He beared witness to the entirety of your relationship with Bucky, especially since he was often assigned to missions with the both of you. If anyone could tell something was off, it’d be him. 

“She’ll get over it,” Bucky replied monotonously before also heading out to the launchpad, everyone else straggling out shortly after.

You were already sitting in your normal seat inside of the quinjet, scrolling absentmindedly on your phone to distract yourself from the eyes that would eventually fall on you as you heard everyone else approaching. 

Though you were still angry, Bucky was not. In fact, he was more angry with himself than he was with you. He didn’t even think he was upset with you at all, but he was convinced you thought otherwise. 

Finishing a shower after an intense sparring session had never felt better to you. 

You had been with the Avengers for about two years now, picking up on more useful ways to use your fighting abilities rather than always being so destructive. Old members of Hydra, who decided they wanted to somehow reinstate and resolidify the organization, had taken you–along with more people than you could count on both of your hands–to be experimented on with a serum similar to the ones used on Bucky and Steve. After managing to escape, you had definitely lost a piece of yourself. It took a while to warm up to the thought of fighting alongside such honorable people, but after two years, you had found your home. 

The first year and a half was strictly training and shadowing anyone who had gone on a mission. You were eager to prove yourself as being part of the team, and in the last six months, Steve and Tony had agreed to allow you to not just shadow missions, but be part of them. You had just finished mission 26 as being “part of the team” two days ago, and Steve had stopped you before your workout with Natasha to let you know that he thinks you might be able to do your first solo mission. 

That news definitely kicked your motivation into overdrive during sparring. Natasha’s never been one to go easy on you, per your own request, and was riding on a 10-0 streak against you.

That streak got broken fairly quicker than she had expected.

Upon finishing your workout, you were most excited to tell Bucky the news. He had been there the whole ride to see just how hard you’ve worked to get to where you are today, especially sharing the experience of being under Hydra and struggling to use your abilities for the right reasons. 

But for some reason, things just didn’t go as you expected. 

And it hurt. Really hurt.

Bucky stepped on the jet and gave you a quick glance. Everyone else had taken their usual seat, meaning the only one available was the one he always took right next to yours. He sighed deeply to himself before sitting down, seeing you immediately cross your arms across your chest from his peripheral vision.

This was definitely going to be a long trip.

You didn’t say a word to him the entire ride. Not even so much as a shoulder or thigh touch. You kept your stoic nature for all of the ten hours you were sat next to him. 

Bucky was losing his patience, and the only person he blamed was himself. This might have been the first day in the year and some months that you’ve been together that you hadn’t said a single word to him, and it was eating him alive.

It was most definitely eating you alive too, but you couldn’t get the argument you two had out of your head. 

Bucky was starting to pack his things when you had walked into his room, his attention quickly diverting to the door and onto you, shooting you a soft smile.

“You’re back already?” He asked, knowing you always took a hefty moment to yourself to relax after sparring with Natasha. 

“You are now looking at the woman with a singular victory against Agent Natasha Romanoff,” you said confidently with a playful victory bow, making Bucky chuckle as he stood up and made his way over to you. 

Standing up straight to look up at him, Bucky cupped your face in his hands and kissed your forehead. “I’m so very proud of you, baby,” he said with his lips grazing yours that had just pulled into a small smile. 

“I also might have really good news,” you said in an eager tone, which Bucky noticed and loved immediately. 

“What’s the good news?” He asked right away as he wrapped his arms around your waist, wanting to hear your excitement. After seeing you have so many losses, with yourself and others, he knew you took every win very seriously. You reminded him of himself when he first joined the Avengers as well, and knew just how difficult it was to adjust and get even just a glimpse of triumph.

“Steve pulled me aside today and said he thinks I might be ready for solo missions,” you responded as you wrapped your arms around Bucky’s neck. “He saw how well I did during the last mission and wants to see how I do alone. He just wants Tony to agree first.”

Bucky’s face dropped slightly. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked rather than answering his question, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

Of course you thought you were ready. You had prepared long enough for this and knew you could take on the challenge. You also thought that Bucky of all people would be able to recognize that and agree. 

“You’ve only been on 26 missions, honey,” he contested. “It took me a lot longer than that before I was even able to handle a mission with just Sam.”

“So you think that I can’t go on a mission by myself because it took you longer to adjust than it took for me?” you asked incredulously as you pulled out of Bucky’s grasp and took a few steps back. 

Bucky ran his hands over his face in frustration. He knew just how stubborn you were; he had seen it mission after mission and debrief after debrief. You were never one to stand down from defending yourself and your decisions. However, you had never been so persistent with him over anything beyond a playful dispute between the both of you.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Y/n, so can we table this conversation and go to bed?” he bargained with you softly. 

You scoffed. “You just patronized me by implying that I’m incapable of handling a mission on my own and you want me to ‘table the conversation’?”

Given your tenacious anger, you knew it’d be best to not say anything at all until you felt a lot calmer about the situation. You had surely pondered if you were just overreacting, but Bucky’s words still hurt you.

He was never one to patronize you or make you feel like you couldn’t do something. In fact, it had always been the opposite. To hear that he felt you were incapable of taking on something you felt you were ready for had stung you harder than any other accusation ever thrown at you. He was the man you loved, the one person on the team who you trusted the most, and he thought you were unprepared.

So you avoided him. The jet landed and you gathered your things and walked right past him. You got lucky that Clint couldn’t come on the mission anymore and you could take his room so you wouldn’t be stuck with Bucky for the entire week. 

Bucky had felt like he was stabbing himself in the chest. He couldn’t sleep the entire night. This seemed to be a mission of firsts for the both of you, including the first time you were both on a mission and slept in different rooms since you’ve been together. 

The next morning, Bucky felt he made it worse. He wandered over to your room before it was time to meet everyone else, knocking on the door loud enough for you to hear it but not make himself obvious in the hallway.

You opened the door, looking right at him though Bucky felt like you were looking through him.

“Can we talk?” he pleaded softly. “I know this isn’t the best timing—”

“Then maybe we should wait until we get back, don’t you think?” you interrupted, your voice a bit raspy from the lack of communication with anyone.

“I can’t think straight on a mission knowing that you’re upset with me, baby,” he said, a slight tremor in his voice. You knew he didn’t want to upset you, but you also didn’t want to direct your anger towards him. It was the one thing you had both promised to each other. “Please?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, Bucky,” you replied sternly, your use of his name feeling like a knife through his back. “Can we just do this after?”

He nodded, not wanting to prod you any further than your limit. He whispered a soft “okay” before walking back to his room.

That was the last you spoke to each other before everything happened.

Your mission started off smoothly. You were paired up with Steve, who wanted to monitor you a bit closer while on a mission to further confirm his confidence in you. He also didn’t want to pair you with Bucky when you had tension with each other, wanting the mission to go successfully and without distractions.

You and Steve would take the fifth and sixth floor of the building to locate the files you needed to extract. Natasha would take the third and fourth floor, Bucky and Sam the first and second. Tony would be eyeing the outside perimeter for extra threats and also spotting Natasha a helpful eye, though everyone knew she could handle herself well. 

After fighting off a few straggling guards, you found the file you needed. The only problem was the faint beep, beep, beep you heard somewhere in your vicinity. Steve was keeping watch outside, fighting off the backup that was eventually called when they realized you were here. You couldn’t locate where the sound was coming from, but you knew it wasn’t a good one. 

“Hey, Steve, you busy?” you said, the hint of fear in your voice.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, hearing your tone. You could hear his shield bouncing off the walls as he responded.

“I’m hearing a beeping noise from in here and I can’t find it at all,” you said as you kept tearing the room apart carefully, not trying to accidentally trigger anything. 

“What do you think it is, Agent?” he asked, and you knew he was trying to turn this into some sort of test like your life wasn’t probably at risk.

“The only possibility is an explosive of some sort,” you responded, trying to hide the irritation in your voice from still being monitored on a mission like a child. “I can’t really make out where it’s coming from and it’s nowhere that I’ve searched in the entire room, so it’s probably hidden somewhere.” The beeping then started at a quicker pace, only making your nerves go into overdrive.

“I’ll finish up out here and then help y—”

Boom. 

“Rogers? Y/l/n?” Tony spoke anxiously into comms.

“What the hell was that, Tony?” Bucky asked immediately, not liking the tone in his voice while he said both yours and Steve’s names.

“Explosion on floor five. Rogers and Y/l/n aren’t responding.”

“Y/n? Steve?” Sam tried to reach out. Nothing.

“All I’m getting is static, guys,” Natasha chimed in. “I’m headed up.”

Bucky jolted into the staircase, running faster than he could even process. He eventually caught up with Natasha, Tony and Sam both flying in from either side of the building to the fifth floor. The entire floor was filled with smoke, though the hallway was a bit clearer than the room you had been in alone.

Natasha caught a glimpse of Steve, who was thankfully conscious, as he tried to lift himself up with a a cough to expel the smoke from his lungs. Tony helped him up and Steve immediately caught Bucky’s eyes, filled with anxiety he hadn’t seen in him in a while. He then looked at the door and Bucky understood that you were in there.

He knocked the door in with no hesitation, though something was blocking his entry. Steve and Tony made their way over to help him push the door, moving the cabinet that had been flung across the room with the impact of the explosion. Bucky slipped through the door, blue eyes scattering across the room until he saw your hand sticking out from behind some debris. Using his metal arm to lift up the equipment that had fallen on top of you, he moved it over to the side before kneeling in front of you. He noticed the large piece of shrapnel sticking into your abdomen, a fairly large blood stain tainting your suit and your breaths extremely shallow.

Your eyes were half open as they landed on him, though your body desperately wanted to fall out of consciousness.

“Hey, honey, I’m here,” he said as your eyes glossed over. 

You felt too weak to talk, it hurt just to breathe with the impeding metal in your stomach. The one moment you wanted to say something to him and you couldn’t. 

“I’m here, okay? We’re gonna get you out of here,” he said as his eyes stayed firmly on you, his ears tuning out Steve directing Sam, Tony, and Natasha to prepare for an emergency evac back home. “You’re gonna be okay, everything’s gonna be okay.” 

Bucky cupped your face lightly, running his thumbs across your cheeks carefully over a few cuts. His face and tears streaming down his cheeks was the last thing you remembered seeing before the darkness reeled you in.

_

It had been six days. 

Six days since you all successfully evacuated the mission. Six days since they removed the metal from your stomach safely. Six days since they found out the extent of your other injuries from the blow. Six days since you had been unconscious. Six days that Bucky hadn’t left your side for a second.

He had already regretted everything he said to you the night before your mission, but now he felt like he had made the biggest mistake of his life by even upsetting you. Bucky knew you probably wanted to cool down, memorizing all of your coping mechanisms and the way you communicated your feelings. But something in his head told him to talk to you sooner, and he only wished you had let him before everything else fell apart.

He hadn’t slept in the six days you’d been unconscious. You had suffered such a serious head trauma that the doctors in the medical wing of the compound were surprised your scans came back clean. On top of the fractured ribs, the wound in your stomach, and the broken leg, everyone had already known you were a trooper.

By the sixth day, Bucky’s eyes were finally starting to get tired. 

He fought sleep off as hard as he could, not wanting to take his eyes off of you for a second. Sam had come in several times throughout the week to bring him food to eat, though he could barely finish any of it. Steve had urged him to go shower every day, promising to watch you and alert him if any changes had happened, pleading with him until he finally agreed. Bucky would rush to shower and immediately ran back as he had finished and gotten dressed. Steve would just give him a pat on the shoulder and a longing look, knowing he couldn’t push any more out of his best friend who was watching intently over the love of his life. 

Bucky laid his head on the small space on the side of the bed next to you, his thumb running soothing motions back and forth on your hand as his solemn, blue eyes watched you take small breaths in and out with your eyes sealed shut. His eyes then pulled him into a slumber, one he didn’t even remember falling into.

After a few hours, he felt you shuffle a bit on the bed, shooting his eyes open and seeing you rub your eyes with your free hand, his hand still intertwined in your other one. 

“Y/n?” he spoke softly, your eyes redirecting to his face and a small smile creeping on yours.

“Hi,” you said groggily. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

Bucky sat up and shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for, baby. I’m just glad you’re awake,” he reassured as he let go of your hand and moved his to rest on your cheek. “How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?”

“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” you joked in a tired voice. “How long have I been out?”

Bucky sighed, though he was glad you were feeling well enough to be playful. “Six days,” he answered. “You had a lot of injuries.”

You nodded slightly. “What about the mission?”

“Natasha and Tony took care of it,” he informed you. “They stayed behind while we evacuated to finish and found a copy of the file. Mission successful.”

You nodded once again, biting down on your bottom lip as you knew there was still unresolved tension between you and Bucky. He noticed it too, but he didn’t think it was the right time to talk about it. Not right after you woke up. 

_

A few days later, you had been discharged from the medical wing and had gone back to your room. You had told Bucky you wanted to go back to his, but he had insisted it’d be better for you to rest in yours. 

He stayed with you the first few days you were in recovery, though he didn’t sleep next to you. It hurt a bit, but you had at least felt comfort in knowing he was in the room with you. 

One morning, you had woken up and saw Bucky sleeping peacefully on the couch chair in the corner of your room, knowing he had finally gotten rest after a few days. You stayed watching him and he met your eyes immediately when you woke up.

“Hey,” he said in the raspy morning voice you knew all too well. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you said as you sat up a bit in bed, to which Bucky moved to your side to help you do.

“Don’t exert yourself too much, Y/n,” he warned in a light tone. “You’re still recovering and I don’t want you to prolong y—”

“Buck, I’m okay, I promise,” you cut him off, placing your hands on his face and forcing him to look you in the eyes. His normal, cerulean eyes were a bit more clouded. They looked more gray in the dim lighting of your room, but you could also make out the sting of sadness in them. 

The longer he looked in your eyes, the more tears formed in his. “I could have lost you,” he said with a crack in his voice. “I almost lost you without making things right with you. I’m never gonna forgive myself for that.”

“We don’t have to talk about this right now, Bucky—”

“No,” he cut you off this time. “I can’t wait any longer, Y/n. It’s eating me alive and I want to make things right with you. I need to make things right with you. Everything that went wrong on that mission only made everything worse. You could have died while being on bad terms with me and I’m never, never, going to let that happen again. Do you understand me?”

You nodded slightly, tears quickly glossing your eyes as well while a tear slid past Bucky’s. He cupped your face in his hands, wiping the tears that fell down your cheeks with his thumbs as you started to play with your fingers in your lap.

“Do you think that I care about anything in this world but you?” he said, a noticeable shake in his voice while he didn’t break eye contact with you. “There is nothing that compares to you in my world. Nothing. When I heard that explosion and Tony say your name, it felt like my heart dropped. I don’t want to experience that again. Especially if I’m not with you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “So you mean—”

“I said what I said because I’m too scared not to be with you, Y/n. It’s wrong and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I felt you weren’t ready to be on your own. You’re more than ready and I was clouded by my own fears and patronized you when you didn’t need that. I can’t lose you, I can’t picture what the rest of my life would even look like without you in it. But my fears should never come in the way of your accomplishments that you deserve and earned, honey. Never. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you and I’m sorry that it took everything that happened for me to say it to you.”

If the tears weren’t falling from your face before, they most definitely were now. You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s torso and sobbed into his chest. He was crying too, but he wrapped his arms around you and rubbed small circles in your back to soothe you the way he always did.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out between sobs. “I didn’t want to fight with you, I just—”

“Shh,” Bucky comforted you. “It’s okay, baby, I know. I didn’t want to fight with you either, it’s on me.”

You pulled away slightly to look up at him once your sobs died down, sniffling a bit as he looked down at you with all the love and adoration he’s always had for you.

“Promise me we’ll never fight before a mission again,” you urged softly, and even though your tone was slightly playful, Bucky knew you were also half serious.

“I promise, baby,” he said, kissing your forehead twice. “Now let’s go back to sleep.”

You nodded as he made his way around the bed and slid next to you, carefully wrapping his arms around you as you both laid down and enjoyed each other’s warmth again.

__________________________________

thank you so much for reading! i thoroughly enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoyed reading my first piece! 

[wonwoonlight]

chocolate rum cookies | jeon wonwoo

➝ Wonwoo x Reader

➝ nonidol!au // friends with benefits to ?? // fluff // ...slice of life? // angst if u squint

➝ word count: 3.5k~

➝warning: no smut scenes but there are mentions of sex and implications of it so minor dni!! mentions of alcohol, food, curses. very self indulgent bc i write this for my birthday hehe. this wonwoo made an appearance <3

➝A/N: hi. so this wasn't exactly... planned. i was just randomly sitting down with my google doc open and suddenly i finished writing... this in one day. gotta say that, when you do write for yourself, it is much easier to write and it's been quite some time since i'm actually happy with what i put out. but also just to put it out there, this fic is actually finished somewhere before february ended but i decided to post it for my birthday because i did start writing it with the thoughts 'i miss wonwoo' and 'i kinda wanna post smth on my bday' so. enjoy. i'm happy to say i'm content with how this one turns to be. here's to turning 25 lol

[✾✾✾]

You hear the door open, signalling Wonwoo’s arrival, and when you feel his presence nearby, you don’t even look up from your phone when you say, “No.”

Wonwoo smiles in amusement, irking an eyebrow as he settles next to you. “I haven’t said anything though?”

“You’re gonna ask me out again.” You roll your eyes, already used to his antics. You don’t even pretend to care about his mock heartache anymore when he clutches his chest.

You’re not sure what Jeon Wonwoo has in his mind, but he’s been asking you out on dates everytime he sees you since last month. Problem is, you see him a lot. A little hard not to with the friends with benefits situation that has been going on between you and him for the last six months.

Even right now, you’re in his place. You’ve been here since almost half an hour ago, entertaining yourself as you wait for Wonwoo to get home because he’s out when you called, and when he said you’re allowed to use the access he’s given you some time ago, you decided to barge into his place like it’s your own.

You’re practically here more often than in your own dorm, anyway.

It almost feels like a second home to you.

But you don’t want to think too much about it. Not about the fact that you have access to Wonwoo’s place. Not about the fact that you’re basically exclusive. Not about the fact that you talk to him practically everyday.

Nope.

“You don’t even pretend to consider it anymore.” He sighs, and you hate that you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. You’ve been telling him to cut it out, but it surely doesn’t look like he has any plans of listening to you. “Here, I got this for you.”

Now that catches your attention, and you actually jump a little on the sofa before you take the small package, take Wonwoo’s face in your arms, and kiss him square in the lips as a thank you.

“You won’t go on a date with me but will kiss me over some cookies. Nice,” he grumbles, though the grin blooming into his face when you pull away betrays him.

Clutching the cookie into your chest like it’s the most precious thing in the world, you regard him with stars in your eyes. “Where did you even find this? I’ve been looking for this forever and I couldn’t find it! I don’t even know the name of the shop that sells this?”

“I’m just capable like that.” He shrugs like it’s nothing, telling you he was out with a friend and the packaging looked familiar so he got it just in case. You’ve been telling him about that craving of yours, a chocolate rum cookie that some random classmate offered some time ago–one that is so good but you don’t know the brand, only remember the flavour and the packaging.

And you can’t even ask that classmate again because she was an exchange student that you’ve only spoken for a total of two times in your life, and she has returned to her country.

You don't even know her name.

“You have to tell me where you got this.” The packaging just has to be so empty; a very simple but elegant design that doesn’t state the shop’s name whatsoever.

“Mmm. Perhaps if you say yes I’ll bring you there.”

“No.”

“Hard pass then.” He chuckles and messes your hair. “Eat. I’ll buy you some more if you’re a good girl.”

The innuendo is not purposeful on his part, and it’s two seconds later that he realizes what he’s just said and he cringes so hard that you laugh, because as much as it’s physical between the two of you, Wonwoo absolutely abhors that particular… moniker. It’s always been an on-going joke between you two, and you laugh some more when his frown deepens, launching yourself into his lap and peppering kisses on his jaw.

“You want me to be one?”

“Shut up.” He grunts, though his arms wrap around your waist anyway and he bends his neck to give you more access.

“I can be if you want to, you know?” You whisper against his ear, not missing the way his hold tightens around you. You’re suddenly very aware of the fact that the only thing separating you and him is the clothes you’re wearing.

“Shut up.” He repeats and kisses you some more. When it gets almost hard to breath, he doesn’t forget to get the cookie out of your grasp and carefully places it on the coffee table before hauling you up and carrying you into his room, your squeal and laughter echoes throughout his empty apartment.

You don’t get to eat your chocolate rum cookie until later that evening, already showered and dressed in Wonwoo’s oversized hoodie as you cuddle into his chest with a movie playing in front of you.

[✾✾✾]

You don’t know what’s taking Wonwoo so long, but he’s already fifteen minutes late without any text messages so you decide you’ll just get some drink first and let loose. He’s probably going to be pissed because he’s never liked it when you go to a bar by yourself (something about men looking at what’s his, whatever that means) but whatever, it’s his fault for being late and you’re currently not relaxed enough to wait for him by yourself in a place full of people. 

The whiskey burns your throat in a pleasant way, though now that you think about it, you shouldn’t have drunk everything in one go when you still have moments to spare as you wait for Wonwoo. But, then again, you can always just order more.

You’ve never been to this bar before, but after hearing how good the vibe is from a friend, you decided to go to check it out. Clubs have never really been your style–people are way too drunk and the music is too loud.

Your friend is absolutely correct when she said you would fit right with this particular bar; there are just enough people for it to be crowded but not really crowded that you get dizzy. Plus, the music is up to your taste and you find yourself nodding to whatever’s playing in the background as you scan through the sea of people while you lean on the wooden bar.

You were just about to order again when someone joins you by the bar, a tall, handsome man that doesn’t look sleazy at first glance. And he’s offering to buy you a drink. You subtly try to check him out; this guy is definitely taller and bigger than Wonwoo, though he doesn’t look harmful and he doesn’t look like he’s hunting for prey. His smile when he offers to pay for your drink looks… honest, if anything. The guy doesn’t even look flirty. Perhaps he thinks you’re interesting and are in need of some company.

The side of your lips lift in an amused smile, Wonwoo will be pissed as fuck if he finds out, but do you care? No you don’t. You’re not going to turn down free drinks from a handsome stranger that doesn’t look dangerous.

“So how come you’re by yourself?” He bends to your height, not too close that it makes you uncomfortable, and just enough for you to hear him over the music. “I’m Mingyu, by the way.”

Hmm. Handsome and with manners.

“Why do you want to know?” You answer with a teasing smile, sipping on your cocktail. Mingyu laughs when you say you’re not telling him his name, if only because he hasn’t earned it yet, and you’re pleasantly surprised when he says it’s understandable and he’s glad you know how to play your cards. “What about you, why are you by yourself?”

“Eh. I just feel like drinking tonight and you seem to be someone who doesn’t mind talking to strangers.”

“Ouch. Is that how I look like? Easy?” You pretend to be offended, and it’s almost cute how Mingyu laughs yet again and rephrases his words. If this was you six months ago, you’d definitely flirt with him and eat up everything that comes out of his mouth, perhaps you’d even end up going back with him. The guy is handsome and you can actually hold conversations with him, which is already a very big difference compared to a lot of guys that have tried talking you up in places like this.

But alas. Your eyes twinkle as you catch the figure of the man who’s the exact reason why you’re not flirting with Mingyu making his way towards you, why you don’t feel the excitement that used to rush through your blood at times like this, and why ‘handsome’ is the only thing you think of Mingyu even though he seems much more than that.

You don’t care enough to think about Mingyu in different aspects.

The way Wonwoo immediately grabs your waist is almost funny, and you have to actually bite your lip and clutch the cocktail glass between your fingers to stop yourself from grinning. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Your boyfriend?” Mingyu asks goodnaturedly–almost concerned, even–making sure he’s not some random guy who’s grabbing you without consent. 

“Yes.” Wonwoo almost growls, and you have to plant your palm on his chest to calm him down, telling him Mingyu is harmless even though your ears are heating up from his word. You’d need to get back to that boyfriend thing later.

Mingyu sends you a look, and you’re absolutely, thoroughly would’ve swooned if you’re… uh… single (you are) and you’re not seeing… anyone (huh?). But you send him a smile, an actual smile this time, and you nod before you tell him it’s nice meeting him.

Wonwoo refuses to look at the interaction, but you can tell that he’s more relaxed than he was seconds ago and his grip on your waist is now replaced with his thumb caressing you through the material of your dress.

Would it hurt to push his button one more time?

“Hey.” You call to Mingyu once again when he’s about to leave, making both guys turn to you in confusion–Wonwoo more so in betrayal–and when you tell him you’d love to see him again someday and finally tell him your name with a wink, Mingyu gets exactly what you’re playing at. Another laugh bubbles out of his throat and he returns the gesture with a ‘have fun!’ before making his way out of your sight.

“What the fuck was that?”

It’s not often that Wonwoo curses, and you know you’ve pushed just enough of his buttons for him to react this way. If anything, though, adoration fills your chest and you have to physically hold yourself back from squeezing his cheeks.

“What? You were late and he accompanied me. Nice guy, right?” You try to play innocent, placing your glass on the bar and turning in his arm to face him. He looks especially nice today, with his hair styled a little and a denim jacket that you haven’t seen him worn before. You can feel your heartbeat picking up the longer you stare at him, and you don’t register what’s coming out of his mouth because you’re lost in your head.

Your eyes fall to his lips, and it’s when he clicks his tongue that you finally look back at him, eyes meeting his in mock innocence.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?”

You shake your head to confirm his suspicion. The guy can't even get mad at you even if he wants to.

“So.” Wonwoo raises his eyebrow in question, urging you to continue. “Boyfriend, huh?”

Wonwoo opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t give him room to talk more because you already dive into his lips, your palms on his shoulders and his arms wrap around you once again–probably muscle memory at this point. There’s no rush in this kiss though, you really just feel like kissing him and you do exactly that. Wonwoo doesn’t seem to mind either, because his lips chase yours when you’re about to pull away.

“Won I–”

“Hmm?”

“I need to–”

“Mmm.”

“Need to–”

“To what?” He finally pulls away, annoyed that you keep on trying to pull away. Even in the dim lighting of the bar, you can tell that he’s a little flushed too and there’s something about it that makes your heartbeat speed up once again. Were you two just… kissing in a public space for no reason at all?

“Need to breathe, baby.” You finish your sentence, suddenly shy now that you’re looking at each other. You dive into his neck before he catches your embarrassment though, and he simply chuckles before he takes a sip of your drink, whatever annoyance in his chest from looking at you and Mingyu, whoever that guy is, disappears just like that.

God, it’s not funny how whipped he is for you.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing.”

“Let’s go on a date.”

“Not a chance.” You beam, though you reject him with a kiss on his cheek and you tell him to finish your drink because you don’t feel like being here anymore. You won’t let him ponder too long on your rejection though, your fingers caressing his neck and your lips finding his ear. “Actually, let’s go back to your place. I don’t have anything to do tomorrow.”

Wonwoo shudders a little at that, still not used to the way you’d get vocal about what you want when you’re tipsy. That’s your code of saying you want to have rough sex all night–or however he would have you, really.

So Wonwoo finishes your drink in one go and grabs your hand to pull you out of the bar, missing the way you exchange grins with Mingyu as you accidentally catch his eyes before you exit the place.

[✾✾✾]

“You know you’ll spend less money if you just tell me where to buy these cookies?” You pout, still trying to get it out of him.

He doesn’t relent though, simply shrugs and places your hot chocolate on the table. “I don’t mind buying you things.”

“But whyyyy.” You whine, crossing your legs to face him on the sofa.

“I told you I’d bring you there if you go on a date with me.”

You stare at him, mind wandering to how easy it is for him to say this over and over again. You still don’t know why he’s suddenly so adamant about that, and while you actually do feel butterflies in your whole body everytime he does it, sometimes you wonder if he’s just messing with you.

Does he really mean it?

But if he does, wouldn’t he eventually be done with you because you keep on rejecting him?

But if you say yes and he’s actually just joking–what does that make you?

What if you try it out and it… messes things up?

You’re happy with whatever you have with him now, and you trust each other enough to know you are exclusive. Is there really any need to put a label between you two?

“Hey, you okay?” He asks, snapping you out of your daze.

“Huh. Yeah, sorry. You were saying?”

You see the way Wonwoo presses his lips together and you can tell the gears are turning in his head. But he beats you to it before you can ask, and your heart breaks a little at how soft he sounds.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“What? No!” You sit straight, taken aback from the sudden turn of the conversation. “What makes you say that?”

Wonwoo sighs and repeats his words. But he faces you this time and, for the first time since he asked you the question he’s been asking you the past few months, it’s obvious how unsure he is, as if he’s suddenly questioning himself on what he’s been doing.

“Am I making you uncomfortable by asking you out on a date?”

“Oh… Wonwoo…” You take his hand, your desire to comfort him bigger than anything. You don’t like seeing him like this, and as much as your own thoughts have been haunting you, you suppose you do need to talk about it one way or another. “No, you’re not. But… Can I ask you something?”

He doesn’t answer, but you take the way he squeezes your hand as a ‘yes’.

“Why?”

He doesn’t seem to get your question, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean why?”

“Why do you suddenly want to date me?”

It’s almost comical the way he blinks slowly, then repeatedly, like he doesn’t get why you’d ask that. He thinks carefully before he says his next words though, and he mentally winces at what he’s about to say but there’s really no other way to say it.

“We’ve been… sleeping together for, like, six months.” He starts, and his face contorts like the words personally offend him. But the more you listen to him talk about all the things you’ve been doing the past few months, how you’re basically a couple without the title, the more you feel both warm and afraid about however this talk is going to end.

You don’t realize you’ve been holding his hand tighter, but he doesn’t say anything and you realize how protective you actually feel of Wonwoo because it doesn’t sit well with you that he seems to consider himself so small.

“It’s not… sudden. I’ve just finally gathered enough courage to ask you.”

“I’m afraid.” You throw it out there the moment you open your mouth, not sure how to tell him except to just go straight to the point.

“Of what?”

“Falling in love.” You cast your eyes down to where your hand and his are joined. “Of being attached to you.”

For a moment, the air around you seems to tense ten-fold that you’re sure you can cut through it with a knife. But when Wonwoo doesn’t say anything, you brace yourself for more honesty and continue.

“I’m… already attached to you more than I thought I could be with anyone. And it scares me sometimes. What if you leave me? I think I’d be able to cope better if you decide to end things with our current… relationship than an actual one. It scares me.”

You feel his hand letting go of yours, and you panic that he’s finally had enough, but he cups your face in his palms to calm you down, and as much as you’re anxious, you can feel yourself calming under his gaze.

“If you want me to be honest, I think I already like you more than whatever you probably feel for me.” He smiles so softly you almost cry. And when you’re about to refute his words, he gently places his finger on your lips to keep you silent. “And no, that’s not something I want to debate with you. I’m fine with liking you more. I want to like you more than you like me. Will you let me do that?”

You open your mouth to say something–anything, but nothing comes out except for your tears so you simply nod and fall into his embrace. Your tears dry up almost immediately after that, but you sniffle a little as his words echo in your mind. Wonwoo probably doesn’t know what he’s talking about, because you’ve liked him for as long as you can remember. Probably not long after you started your deal with him.

He doesn’t know how you melt every time he takes care of you. How you’d try to stay awake longer after he falls asleep after another night of passionate sex, his arm over your body and your back against his chest, just so you can pretend it’s real between you two. How you’d remind yourself that it’s not real when you wake up in his place even though you’d still drag yourself out to make breakfast for him, willing your heart to calm down when he wakes up moments later, hugging you from behind even though you tell him to move away.

You probably already love him more than he can imagine.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” You ask once you’ve calmed down, getting out of his embrace to look into his eyes.

“Nothing. Why?” He tilts his head, a little confused at the sudden change of topic.

“Let’s go on a date?” You ask shyly, though your eyes immediately cast downwards again once you realized you can’t handle looking him in the eye as you ask him this. But that’s why you missed the way his face blooms into a grin, missed the way his eyes suddenly twinkle brighter than every single star in the universe combined. “I think you promised to tell me where you buy those cookies if I go on a date with you.”

He laughs at that and throws his arms around you, so tight that it hurts a little. But you don’t say anything, happy that you’re here in his arms and a little giddy now that everything’s out of your chest.

Wonwoo pulls away and cups your face once again, then searches for something in your face before he closes his eyes and gives you the softest kiss you’ve ever experienced in your life. A promise. One that says he’s not going to leave and he’s going to try his best to remove every single doubt you have in your mind.

[✾✾✾]

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don't allow any translations or reposting of my works.

A/N 2: and for my birthday wish, hopefully i'll get to see you even once in this lifetime.

[morningberriesao3]

Dirty Words

Steve Harrington X Eddie Munson

Summary: Steve gives Eddie a lesson on dirty talk, but things start to get carried away.

Word Count: 10.2K

Chapters: 1 of 1

Content Warning: Explicit m/m sexual content including dirty talk, masturbation, hand jobs, spit and cum as lube, allusions to anal sex, scent kink, spit kink, multiple orgasms, and oral sex. Excessive swearing. Recreational drug use and drinking. This post includes explicit sexual content, foul language, and sensitive themes. It is intended for those 18 and older ONLY. I am not responsible for the media you consume.

Disclaimer: All characters in my fics engaging in sexual acts are—and always will be—18 or older, even if not explicitly stated.

DIRTY WORDS

Eddie is feeling all floaty and shit. The weed Argyle gave him really is better than the skunkweed he’s been peddling in alleyways since he was sixteen years old. Not that he’ll ever admit to it. Definitely a fact he’ll take to his grave.

But for now, Eddie has the weekend off from his new, lousy day job that Steve and (mostly) Robin managed to bag him at Family Video. To be honest, it had been a last resort. But turns out, business is shit after he fucking finally graduated high school. And now—cherry on top!—he’ll have to figure out how to file taxes and shit. Welcome to the corporate world.

With a sigh, Eddie takes another drag from the perfectly rolled joint that he made himself. Argyle can’t top him on that, at least.

Eddie giggles to himself. Top him. Shit, Argyle could top him if he really wanted to, considering how fucking pent up—

The phone rings, making Eddie jump a good six inches from the sunken couch cushion he’s lounging on. He scrambles to a sitting position, and then lifts himself onto his legs that only slightly wobble like a newborn giraffe underneath him. He runs to the yellowing, plastic phone that’s hung up on his uncle’s trailer’s wall, hoping that maybe it’s the guy Eddie’s been fooling around with on the other end of the line. Maybe he could try the whole phone sex thing. Again. And not fuck it up this time.

“Hello?”

“Eddie?” Steve asks, voice all staticky through the speakers. “Why does it sound like you just ran a marathon, dude?”

Eddie realises he’s panting. He’s not sure if it’s from the short dash to the telephone, or if it’s because his blood was rushing to his cock for a minute there instead of his lungs.

Either way, he should probably consider going for a jog once in a while or something. It’s kind of sad that he’s winded.

“Shut up, man,” he says. “Maybe I was running a marathon. You’d never know.”

“I do know. It’ll be a cold day in Hell when you decide to exercise willingly. The sun will be rising in the West. The sky will be green and the grass will be blue when Eddie Munson runs a marathon.”

“You forgot when pigs fly.” Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He nearly drops the phone that’s wedged between his ear and his shoulder. “Did you call to talk about my general lack of fitness, or is there another reason you called, Harrington?”

“I’m bored,” Steve whines. The phone line crackles. Eddie can only assume Steve is, like, laying in bed or something.

Laying in bed, in those navy blue sheets. Shirtless. Maybe fresh out of the shower. A little wet still, his hair sticking up around his head—

No. Nope.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and tries to will away the next image (a towel slipping away from Steve’s hips), because three months ago he made a rule for himself. No more fantasising about Steve goddamn Harrington.

It had been becoming nearly impossible to look the other man in the eye after some of the things Eddie imagined doing with him.

Steve continues on, completely unaware of Eddie’s wandering mind. “Robin is working tonight and tomorrow so she can’t hang.”

“Glad to know I’m your second choice,” Eddie teases.

“No! No, I would have called you either way.”

“Sure you would have.”

Eddie smiles to himself. He’s not actually miffed. He and Steve have become way closer than he would have ever imagined possible. It started when Robin would ask him to hang out, and then she’d invite him along with her and Steve, and then somehow he and Steve just started hanging out alone. And it wasn’t even all that awkward.

Turns out Eddie is cooler than Steve thought, and Steve is more of a loser than Eddie thought.

“Eddie,” Steve groans. And Eddie tries not to be perverted about how good it sounds. “Come on, dude. Let’s hang out.”

“Can’t, man,” Eddie says. “I’m busy.”

“What? No you’re not. It’s nine at night and you’re at home. I also know Wayne works a double, so he won’t be back until tomorrow night.”

“It’s weird that you know my uncle’s schedule.”

“No it’s not; he works the same shifts every week. Point is, I know you’re alone. Unless you have other friends that I don’t know about?”

“I do have other friends!” (Not really. Just a guy Eddie’s made out with a couple times in the city, and the members of Corroded Coffin who’re away for the summer.)

“Oh.” Steve goes quiet for a moment, and Eddie feels like he won. But then, “Well, are they over right now?”

“No, but—”

“Then you’re not busy! I can bring movies. I have Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and Wildcats—”

“What makes you think I want to watch a sports movie?”

“And Labyrinth.”

Eddie’s jaw clenches. Shit, he loves David Bowie, and he hasn’t been able to get his hands on a copy yet. But he also knows Steve won’t just return the movie before Eddie has the chance to see it, because Steve isn’t mean like that. Not like Eddie is.

“I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Getting high and being alone!” And jerking off for the next hour and a half to see how many times he can make himself come before it becomes unbearable.

Eddie doesn’t add that last point, for obvious reasons.

“I like getting high. Please, Eddie? I’m so bored. And my house is empty and quiet, and you know how I get nightmares when—”

“Okay! Okay, oh my god, fine. You’re so whiny.” Eddie had no idea Steve was such a beggar. He kind of likes it. “But you have to bring beer as payment. Afterhours fee.”

“Yes,” Steve says, sounding like he’s doing something dorky like punching the air. “Beer it is. See you soon.”

“Hey, Harrington, can you give me, like—” half an hour, Eddie wants to say. But the line goes dead.

He wonders if he can manage to pump one out before Steve gets to the trailer. And the thing is, his dick is harder than he’d like to admit after hearing Steve’s voice. So he’s going to try.

Eddie runs to his room, pulls down his flannel pants so the elastic sits taut under his balls. He doesn’t bother laying in his bed; he just sits on the edge of it, facing his mirror, watching as he fists his own cock and gives it a few tugs. It’s not a narcissism thing, Eddie just likes the visual. Likes to imagine it’s someone else’s hand, or someone else’s cock. Likes to see the tip of it, shiny and red, as his foreskin pulls down his shaft to expose it.

He wonders if Steve is cut or not.

Fuck—no. No, no, no.

Eddie shouldn’t be thinking about Steve, he should be thinking about the guy from the bar. About how hard his dick had been, pressing into Eddie’s hip as they made out against the wall in the alleyway.

Yeah. Yeah, okay, that’s doing something…

Eddie watches as his hand pumps over his cock, watches as it starts to strain, the veins popping from the skin as he builds himself up. He squeezes hard around the crown. It only gives a little under the pressure, considering how hard he is, but it makes his dick offer up a pearl of precum that he gathers and spreads around the slit. When he lifts his thumb away, a sticky string connects his hand between his legs.

He likes the way that looks. He likes when things start to get messy. He wonders if he’ll ever get to see the guy from the bar’s cock like this, if he also likes to play with cum and spit.

If Steve ever plays with cum and spit when he’s on his own, like Eddie does. He wonders how Steve touches himself, what he likes, what he doesn’t like, what sounds he makes, what face he makes…

Oh fuck, oh fuck. Yeah, that’s fucking good.

Okay. Okay it’s fine, Eddie will just think about Steve one more time, and then he’ll for sure stop doing it. Just this one more time…

A jolt travels from Eddie’s cock into the tight muscles of his stomach as he imagines Steve’s face all twisted up in pleasure. Those strong thighs bracketing Eddie’s head as he sucks back little dribbles of salty white that leak out of Steve. His nose brushing against a mound of dark hair that Eddie just knows would grow thick around the base of Steve’s cock; little curls that smell like honey and almond soap, because Steve uses the expensive shit.

Jesus Christ. What he wouldn’t give to go down on Steve, just once. Just one time.

Eddie’s mouth waters as his hand flies harder, faster. He’s so fucking close. Just a quick, dirty orgasm before Steve comes over. Steve. Fuck, yes, Steve—

There’s a loud knock on Eddie’s front door.

No! Shitshitshit. He just needs two more minutes. Maybe not even that, just one—

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is muffled beyond the walls of the trailer. Eddie almost considers letting him wait outside while he finishes up, but he can hear Steve’s footsteps getting closer to his bedroom window.

A rock hits the glass and shocks Eddie enough that it sets him back. Now it would definitely take the full two minutes.

“Shit! Goddamn fucking Harrington—” Eddie stands from the mattress and releases his cock from the death grip he had on it. It bobs between his legs, so fucking stiff that there’s no way it’s going away on its own anytime soon. “One sec!”

Eddie has no choice but to tuck his cock into the waistband of his pants. The tip pokes up under his navel, like it’s staring angrily at him for not finishing the job he started. It’s throbbing, and leaking, and getting the fabric it’s tucked into all damp.

“Same,” he mumbles to his dick as he grabs a longer t-shirt and pulls it over his head.

Another rock smacks against his window.

“Coming!” Well, he was about to anyway.

He doesn’t jog to greet Steve, because he doesn’t want to risk his dick slipping from its hiding spot. That is a conversation Eddie wants to avoid.

When he opens the front door, Steve has another rock in his hand, aimed towards Eddie’s window.

“You better not throw that, Harrington.”

Steve’s head whips around. His eyes are full of mischief, a small smile on his lips. His hair is freshly washed and styled, just like Eddie suspected. And his outfit is positively sinful (if you’re horny like Eddie is). Grey sweatpants and a plain white tee, which Eddie thinks is the guy version of lingerie.

Totally unfair, especially when Eddie would just like if his dick would go soft again.

“Why did you take so long, dude? Your trailer park is scary in the dark.”

Eddie gawks at Steve. “You’ve literally fought monsters and a dark wizard in an alternate dimension, and you think my trailer park is scary?”

“Yeah.” Steve points over his shoulder to a mobile home down the lane. “There was an old dude watching me from his window.”

“Mr. Jackson?” Eddie tilts his head, sees the curtains ruffling as his neighbour draws them back. “He’s… mostly harmless. I think.”

“You think?” Steve flings up Eddie’s steps and quickly locks the door behind him.

“Totally. I mean, besides the shotgun he keeps next to his couch. But that’s reserved exclusively for handsome young men that come around the trailer park after nine PM.” Eddie checks his watch, gasps in mock fear, widens his eyes, and peers out of the window behind Steve’s head.  “That means you’re not safe! I think—I think I hear him loading the gun!”

Steve grabs Eddie’s arm, just for a second, as he cranes his head to look out the window. When Eddie’s sarcasm finally sinks in, he lets go and punches him (a little too hard) where his hand had been. “You’re such a dick.”

“I think that was kind of a compliment,” Eddie says, rubbing at the place where he would surely bruise. “I did say you were handsome.”

Steve flops down on Eddie’s couch and tosses a bag full of VHS tapes and a six pack onto the ground by his feet. He leans back, like he’s making a point, flourishing his hand over the length of his body with the most disgustingly sexy lazy smile on his face. “Yeah, well, that’s common knowledge.”

Jesus.

Eddie looks down to make sure his cock is still out of sight. He can feel it pulse between his legs as he hears Steve’s voice, sees how he stretches on the sofa. But thank God, he’s still tucked away and Steve should be none the wiser.

He takes his place next to Steve—makes sure his shirt drapes loose enough around him that it hides how hard he is.

He wonders if blue balls are a real thing. Will Eddie have severe health defects if he doesn’t come? Will his boner go away on its own?

Questions that he’ll find out sooner or later, he supposes.

“Little full of yourself, are you, Harrington?”

Steve sighs. “Not at all. It’s actually hard work being this gorgeous. You would know.”

Eddie feels his cocky expression fall from his face.

Did Steve just call him gorgeous? Or did Eddie totally misinterpret his words? He blushes and figures it’s better to be safe than be sorry. “Sure,” is all he replies with.

“So,” Steve says casually, “where’s this weed I’ve been hearing so much about?”

Eddie smiles, big and sweet, and points towards his bedroom where he left the joint to fizzle out in an ashtray before he molested himself. “Be a dear and go grab it from my nightstand?”

The truth is, Eddie’s pretty sure the tip of his dick slipped from under the elastic of his pants when he sat down. Miraculously, he thinks it’s starting to deflate by the teensiest fraction, but it would still basically slap Harrington in the face if he tried to stand.

Which—good thing or bad thing? Eddie isn’t sure. That would all have to do with Steve’s reaction. But he’s not willing to find out.

Steve rolls his eyes but gets up like a good little boy to fetch the ashtray. He brings it and the lighter to the coffee table where Eddie had been smoking before.

Fifteen minutes later, Eddie is back in his floaty state with a beer between his legs instead of a hard on. Turns out, stiffies don’t actually last forever if you don’t let yourself come. It’s just very, very frustrating.

“You up for another beer?” Steve asks slowly, reaching into the bag to grab two bottles. His eyes are glazed and blown, and Eddie thinks he looks totally fucked up already. It’s hilarious.

“Yeah, I’m down.”

Steve hands Eddie a new PBR, and his eyes do this little flare thing that makes him look adorable. “Woah.”

“Woah what?” Eddie asks, popping the cap and replacing his empty bottle with the new one.

“Being up for something and being down for something mean the same thing, even though they’re the opposites. I just realised that.”

Eddie smiles against the lip of the bottle, feeling the glass clink against his teeth. “Shit, man, you’re so high.”

“Am not.” Steve honest to God giggles as he makes eye contact with Eddie. “Okay. Maybe a little.”              

“I’m glad you came over, Harrington,” says Eddie after a beat. “Better than another night alone.”

Steve opens his mouth, like he’s about to say something, but he’s cut off by the sound of the telephone ringing.

Both men turn their heads to stare at the wall phone, but Eddie doesn’t make a move to stand up to actually answer.

Because, for some reason, his mind is suddenly going a million miles a minute.

He knows it’s not his uncle calling in the middle of work, and he knows it’s obviously not Steve. The chances that it’s Robin are slim to none because her shift doesn’t end for another half hour. Gareth and Jeff are away with their respective families.

So the most logical answer to who’s calling after dark, would be the guy from the bar.

And the thing is, Eddie doesn’t want to raise questions. Isn’t sure if he’s capable of thinking of a good enough excuse as to who it was or why he’s calling. Yeah, he could probably have at least answered and told Bar-Guy to call back tomorrow, that he has company, but his brain isn’t thinking fast enough. So he just kind of… stares at the phone as it rings.

“I’ll get it,” Steve says after a few seconds, and suddenly he’s standing from the couch and reaching for the telephone—

“No!” Eddie pounces, because that’s even worse than if Eddie just answers the damn phone himself. He flounders towards Steve, grabbing the outstretched hand, stopping it from curling around the phone. “Stop! Stop—just let it ring!”

Steve gawks at him, but holds his hands in surrender in front of his chest.

The phone rings one more time, and then the kitchenette goes quiet.

Eddie heaves a sigh of relief, even though he probably just made more questions arise than he avoided by not picking up.

“What—what was that about?”

“Nothing,” Eddie huffs, dragging his feet back to the couch.

Steve follows closely behind. Just as Eddie flops onto the cushions, Steve is on top of him, tickling the shit out of Eddie’s arms, his sides, his stomach.

Eddie was not expecting anything like this—Steve’s hands all over him, his leg slung over Eddie’s to hold him down, the smell of Steve’s breath hitting his face. It’s not a bad smell, like freshly brushed teeth and beer and weed, and it’s warm, because their faces are so close together.

All Eddie can to is half-shriek-half-laugh, even as his mind muddles with confusion (and lust. Obviously).

“Tell me!” Steve commands, digging his fingers into Eddie’s neck, down his back, dangerously close to his thighs…

The boner that he just got rid of starts to fill out once more.

“Stop, dude!” Any sense of authority is lost under Eddie’s laughter that he can’t control. “No! Stop!”

“Come on, Munson. Spill the beans.”

Eddie tries flipping onto his stomach, but Steve follows him, blanketing over his back. The panes of his chest press behind Eddie, hard and warm, crowding him against the pillows. And there’s also friction.

Friction that could easily become a problem if Steve keeps goddamn moving against Eddie, making his hips rub against the couch—

“Okay! Uncle. Uncle!”

Eddie keeps panting face-down as Steve lifts himself away from his back.

“So?” Steve asks with a smile in his voice, triumphant from his win. An unhonourable win, as far as Eddie is concerned. Tickle torture is a serious offense. “What’s up your ass?”

Eddie snorts as he sits up, casually grabbing one of the throw cushions to hold against his lap.

Nothing, he wants to say. That’s the problem.

Instead, he just kind of adverts his gaze and goes for the truth.

“I’ve—kind of—been talking to…” this guy.

It’s not like Eddie has been hiding his sexuality from Steve, per se, but other dudes are way less accepting than girls about it. His first official ‘coming out’ had been to Robin (an obvious choice after she told him she’s a lesbian), and then to Nancy.

Apparently, Steve had been really cool when Robin told him she likes girls. But this is a different situation. Steve might be afraid that Eddie will, like, come on to him or something. Which… fair enough. Eddie probably would.

So, instead of finishing with the whole truth, he dampens it down a bit, and says, “Someone.”

“Oh. Shit.” Steve’s eyes do this thing where they drop to the floor, and then shoot sideways to Eddie, his eyebrows crumpled like a cartoon above his nose. He grabs the blunt, takes a deep drag. “That’s good though, right?”

Eddie shrugs. “Sure.”

“Sweet. So what’s the issue?”

All of it. Everything.

Because said guy lives all the way in Indianapolis—two hours away—and the only chance they have to communicate is through phone. Which, by proxy, means that the only times they can actually meet up is after a phone conversation.

Not to mention the fact that they aren’t, like, official—that they just made out a few times. Once outside of the bar, and a couple times in the back of Eddie’s van, which left him achingly hard when they parted ways.

This circles back to point number one about the phone conversations. They’re awkward. They don’t know each other well, don’t know what to talk about. Things don’t just flow naturally. Not like they do with—oh, say—Steve.

Maybe the worst part is that Eddie is a twenty-one-year-old man with raging hormones that—as much as he wishes otherwise—he cannot control. His self-discipline is basically nil. Nada. Zero. He’s fucking horny all the time.

So how is he supposed to deal with long-distance plus rare phone calls?!

Bingo. Yep. Phone sex. It’s the obvious answer, is it not?

So Eddie, like, tried.

And he thought it started well!

What are you wearing? Is that not fucking obvious where Eddie was headed? Is that not the exact line that they use in movies and shit? That’s what he said—What are you wearing?—and then he shoved his hand down his pants and waited for Bar-Guy to get into it, start saying something filthy into the speaker that would get Eddie going.

Maybe like… ‘Nothing at all,’ or, ‘tight boxers that show off my cock,’ or—fuck—'a towel slung low on my hips’. Something like that!

But all Eddie got was, “Uh—sweatshirt. Jeans. Why are you breathing hard?”

And then Eddie had said, “Just thinking about you,” with his low and gravelly voice, to help keep the conversation moving (again, he thinks this is pretty obvious and, like, at least a bit sexy).

Here’s the real kicker. The dude then said, “Are you… touching yourself?”

And it was not a sexy question. He sounded completely weirded out! Horrified! Disgusted!

So Eddie pulled his hand out of his pants and basically yelled, “No!”

Deny deny deny. Eddie is good at that shit.

The conversation had gone on to other things. Dinner plans, or something. Eddie didn’t really care. All he could think about was that this guy probably didn’t want to fuck him. They’d had the opportunity before, and it never progressed. And the thought of Eddie even fisting his own cock all but repulsed him.

Such a damn shame. Because Eddie is so desperate, so pent up, so sick of fucking his own hand, that he’s literally about to drill a hole in one of Uncle Wayne’s oranges and go to town until there’s nothing left but pulp.

Eddie doesn’t tell Steve any of this. He just groans really loud and buries his face in his hands, and says, “I don’t know!”

“C’mon, man. Something’s up. Out with it.” Steve waves his hand in encouragement, vaguely gesturing to the empty trailer and himself. “Safe space.”

Eddie peeks through his fingers at Steve, and he just looks so… genuinely curious. Like he actually wants to help, or at least hear, Eddie’s problems.

“Okay, fine.” Eddie snatches the joint from between Steve’s fingers and sucks it back like it’s water, keeping his gaze from Steve’s (beautiful) hazel eyes. “It’s just that I… I kind of made it awkward. Last time we talked on the phone. I tried to initiate… uh”—he clears his throat—“phone sex.”

Steve’s eyes go wide, his forehead crinkling with surprise. His lips are shiny and pink. But that second part doesn’t have anything to do with Steve’s expression—Eddie just happened to notice them.

“Fuck,” Steve says, leaning forward to set his bottle on the table in front of them. “Yeah. I’ve been there before, man. What happened?”

“What do you mean, what happened?”

“I don’t know. What did you say? I assume it didn’t go well considering how you’re all… tense and shit.”

“Tense and shit.” Eddie laughs once, then mumbles, “You have no idea.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Steve encourages.

“It’s not! I started with the classic, what are you wearing?” Eddie drops an octave, making fun of his attempt to sound hot. “And then I got an actual play by play of what they were wearing.”

Steve sits back and thinks about it for a minute—his legs splayed, and his arms crossed over his chest. “I think the issue with that is… it’s obvious, but it’s not sexy.”

“How is it not sexy, dude?” Eddie asks, exasperated. “It’s literally a steppingstone into, like, a form of sex!”

“Yeah, sure, but it doesn’t get you hot. You know?”

“No, Steve, I don’t know. Because I’m always hot. Someone could bend to tie their shoes and I’d fucking cream my pants.”

Steve hiccups a startled laugh. “Fuck. Me too. It’s been forever.”

“I don’t think it’s natural for a guy to go this long, man.” Eddie swigs back the rest of his beer and cracks a third. Lights up a new joint, too. And honestly, regardless of his tolerance, he’s pretty fucked up.

“Do you know how many chicks I’ve gone out with? None of my dates have even led to hands stuff. It at least sounds like you’re close to sealing he deal.” Steve lolls his head towards Eddie with a cheeky little smile on his lips. “I mean, if you didn’t suck at talking dirty.”

“I do not suck!” Eddie cries, grabbing the throw cushion from his lap to smack it against Steve’s smug face.

Steve catches the pillow and rips it playfully away from Eddie’s grip. “Then show me.”

Eddie stares at Steve for way too long. He narrows his eyes after a few seconds. “You’re kidding me.”

“Not kidding. I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’re doing wrong.” Steve leans forward, plucks the joint right out of Eddie’s slack lips. “Just pretend I’m on the other end of the line.”

“No way, dude.”

Steve curls his hand up to look like a telephone, pretends to dial in a number. Brings it up to his ear. “Riiiinngg. Riiiinngg. C’mon, Eds, you’re getting a sexy phone call. Pick up. Riiinngg.”

Eddie feels his face flush red. He’s not sure if it’s from where this conversation is headed, or out of sheer embarrassment for Steve’s sake. “Holy fuck. You’re such a loser, Harrington.”

“I’ll just pretend you already answered and said hello. Hey, Eds. It’s… wait, what’s this guy’s name?”

Eddie opens his mouth. Then closes it again, because Steve just said guy. Not girl. Guy. Is this a slip of the tongue? Or did Buckley out Eddie to Steve? Or Nancy?

No, neither of them would do that. Maybe Steve just figured it out from context clues.

But still, to be sure, Eddie just says, “What?”

“What’s his name?” Steve askes again.

So—shit—it definitely wasn’t a slip of the tongue. But Steve isn’t freaking out. Hasn’t freaked out in the past. And he’s looking at Eddie expectantly, but not judgy or anything.

Eddie clears his throat. “Nick.”

“Nick! Strong name. Not as strong as Steve, but not everyone can be a Steve—”

“Come on, man!” Eddie groans. Again. Hides his face. Again.

“Okay, Okay!” Steve clears his throat. “Hey, Eds, it’s Nick. What’re you up to?”

Eddie sucks in a breath and lets it forcefully out of pursed lips. “Uhh—hey, Nick… I’m…”—his eyes flick sideways to catch Steve staring at him with a half-smile on his face—“no. Nope! I can’t do this.”

Eddie goes to stand from his perch on the couch, but Steve’s arm shoots out to grab him. “Alright. Let’s just do it, you and me. No phone roleplaying required. Just start with saying a compliment you’d tell Nick or something.”

“Alright… Okay… Uh, you’re—I mean Nick—is really funny?” Eddie says. Nick isn’t all that funny but, fuck, it’s all Eddie can think of. Steve is funny, though, so it’s easy enough to say.

“Yeah, good. That’s good. What else?”

“And you’re really hot. Really fucking hot.”

“Good.” Steve shifts around on the couch, maybe trying to get more comfortable. “And then Nick would say something like, You’re really hot, too.”

Eddie stifles a giggle. “I really don’t think he would.”

“Well, just pretend he does. And then it’s your turn to keep the conversation heading in the direction you want it to.”

“By saying what, Harrington?”

“Try saying how I—Nick—makes you feel.”

“Okay. You make me feel… like I’m vibrating. Like I’m pressurized, or something.”

“Yeah?” Steve breathes, his voice dropping an octave. Probably just getting more into character. “What does that make you do, when you feel like that?”

“It makes me… makes me hard.” Eddie feels his hips pitching forward. His cock twitches under his flannel pants.

A dangerous game they’re playing. Maybe Steve doesn’t know just how serious Eddie was when he said he’s pent up.

“Fuck,” Steve says lowly.

“Too much?”

“No! Nah, it’s good. It’s hot. I mean, sometimes it’ll take longer to build into that kind of stuff, but keep going.”

Eddie nods nervously. “Okay. Uh, what do I say now?”

Steve sits up a bit to adjust the band of his sweats. “Sorry. So, you said it makes you hard. And then I’d say… me too. That it makes me hard just talking about it. Just thinking about it.”

Eddie’s dick is starting to properly fill out again. It makes sense since he never got to come after taking himself right to the edge before Steve came over.

He takes a steadying breath to try to will it away. “Shit. Okay.”

“Do you like that?” Steve asks. “Do you like thinking about how hard my cock gets when I think about you?”

“Fuck, Steve.” Eddie pulls at the hem of his shirt, desperately trying to stretch it beyond his crotch where he is most definitely about to tent his pants. Maybe if he wore boxers it would have been easier to conceal. “I don’t think we should do this.”

“It’s okay. It just means we’re doing good, right?” Steve slides his hips forward, making his sweats tighten against the bulge between his own legs.

Eddie lets his eyes linger there for longer than he should. There’s no way that Steve is getting turned on by all of this, but shit, he is. The proof is in the pudding—if the pudding is his dick that is suspiciously growing under the heather grey fabric.

He can’t help but blurt out, “I want to suck your cock.”

Because it’s true. Eddie’s mouth is watering just from the thought of it. But as soon as the words push past his lips, he realises that it’s not exactly fitting in the theme of phone sex. So he quickly adds, “If we were together right now. Instead of—uh—just on the phone.”

“Fuck, yeah. You’d suck my cock so good.” Steve licks his lips, and Eddie swears his eyes trail over his body, landing between his legs and then back up to his mouth. “I’d fuck your throat so deeply you’d gag and drool all over yourself.”

Eddie can’t help himself from groaning at that image. And as if his body is proving to Steve just how right he is, a trickle of saliva escapes the corner of his lips before he’s able to swallow it back.

He lifts his hand to wipe the back of it against his mouth. “Jesus, Steve.”

Steve shifts closer to Eddie. His voice is low and soft and seductive, and Eddie is having a very hard time remembering that this is a game as he says, “And then I’d ask if you’re touching yourself.”

The words echo those of Nick’s. But when Steve says them, he doesn’t sound horrified at the thought. He sounds like he wants Eddie to be fucking his hand while they talk. Like the thought turns him on almost as much as it does Eddie.

“I would be, by now,” Eddie confesses, wiping his sweaty palms against his knees. He desperately wants to trail them higher, wants to rub between his legs where he’s throbbing and hot. His pants feel like a sauna. They’re humid and sticky, and he knows it’s partly because he’s radiating heat, but also because his cock is already starting to dribble.

“I would be, too,” Steve says. “I mean, Nick would be, too. If I was Nick. And I’d—I’d ask how you were touching yourself. What it felt like.”

Eddie glances between Steve’s legs again. And—holy shit—Steve is hard. As hard as Eddie.

His cock is fucking massive, as far as Eddie can tell. Thick, and long, sitting sideways inside his pants against his hip. Eddie knows it would stand proud by Steve’s belly button if it wasn’t trapped.

And he’s also pretty sure Steve is circumcised by the obvious ridge he can see under the fabric.

Maybe it’s dumb, or false hope, or just how ridiculously horny he is (again), but Eddie is feeling encouraged. Because he’s not the only one who’s getting hot. He’s not the only one who’s participating, or the only one who’s bricked up.

So… why not get into it a bit more?

“I’d say that I have my hand wrapped around my cock. That it feels heavy in my hand. And wet. That I’m leaking all over myself.” Eddie’s hips pitch forward on their own accord, the sensitive tip of his dick deliciously grazing against the flannel of his pants. “And I’d tell you that it feels good. Really fucking good. But it would feel better if it was your hand instead.”

Steve is the first one to break.

Eddie can tell it’s an automatic reaction when he reaches for his cock and squeezes where it’s straining under his sweats. Awareness shimmers in Steve’s eyes, and he quickly pulls his hand away again. “Shit. Sorry.”

“It’s all good,” Eddie says fast as a whip, repeating Steve’s words from earlier. “Just means we’re doing good, right?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s laugh is small and breathy. “Really good.”

Eddie swallows his nerves, decides to see if he can keep whatever this is going. “What would you say after that?”

It seems it’s Steve’s turn to be flustered. Eddie can see red creeping up his neck, like his chest is flushed. It reaches his cheeks and makes him look all bright and pink. “I’d tell you what I’d be doing.”

“Which would be?”

“I’d be reaching under my pants, and I’d circle my fingers around my dick. Gently at first, because—because I’m sensitive down there. And I want to make it last.” Eddie watches as Steve’s hands lift back to his lap. And then pinch the hem of his shirt. A strip of his sun-kissed stomach flashes as his fingers tease against the drawstring of his pants. “Like this.”

Steve’s hand disappears as it pushes down into his sweats. It moves along the length of his cock. He adjusts so it’s no longer sitting sideways; it’s now straight up, as big as Eddie assumed, dangerously close from peeking past the waistband.

Eddie would not be upset if it did.

The best part is when Steve’s hand starts moving under the fabric. Long, soft strokes that Eddie can tell are featherlight, mostly just fingertips teasing against his skin. Just enough to make Steve bite down on his lip and his breath hitch in his throat.

“Steve—fuck.” Eddie’s mouth goes dry as he watches Steve touch himself. And he has a few fleeting thoughts.

First is the classic, Am I dreaming? Because surely Steve Harrington is not jerking himself off in Eddie’s living room on a Friday night while they say filthy things to each other under the guise of another dude.

Impossible.

The second comes after Eddie subtly pinches himself and doesn’t wake up. Which is, Is this a joke? Because now that he knows he’s (probably) not asleep, there must be some other horrible explanation for what’s happening. He racks his brain, plays back the events that led him here.

Eddie doesn’t think he could misinterpret everything. But he’s probably done dumber things in his life.

Plausible.

And the third—which is the thought that’s taking up the majority of his consciousness—is, Am I allowed to touch myself, too?

He doesn’t let himself consider this one too long. Because there’s no way in Hell that Eddie would be able to stop himself. Not if a gun was pointed to his head.

So he shoves his hand down the front of his pants and squeezes his cock way more aggressively than Steve.

It’s both not enough and instant satisfaction. Like when you start scratching an itch and it seems to get itchier as your nails dig into your skin, but at the same time it’s doing exactly what you need to soothe the discomfort.

Eddie’s lips part as he grabs his balls and gives them a taut squeeze. His dick basically weeps against his skin. So much precum is pushing from his slit that it’ll be a miracle if there’s any left when he actually comes. Fuck, he hopes this time he can actually come.

His heart is beating so goddamn fast in his chest that there’s a good chance if he stops for a second time this evening, it will give out. He really, really will die.

“Does it feel good?” Steve practically purrs the question.

Eddie nods fervently, but he’s not able to form words. He doesn’t know where to look; Steve’s blown eyes that seem more black than hazel, his hand that’s speeding up under his sweats, the damp patch that’s forming where his cock must be leaking nearly as much as Eddie’s if it has already soaked through the fabric, or the growing expanse of abs on show—flexing in tandem with Steve’s strokes—as his free hand continues to lift the hem of his shirt.

Fuck, Eddie wants to come. Right now. He wants to come right fucking now.

He squeezes the base of his cock, bordering on the verge of pain, to stop his orgasm in its tracks. “So good, Stevie.”

Steve’s head falls back against the couch cushion, his eyes flicking between Eddie’s legs, his mouth, back down again… back up. He’s pumping himself with more intent now, his wrist twisting with each upwards stroke. “I wish it was your lips on me. I just know how good they’d feel. You have perfect dick-sucking lips.”

Eddie attempts stroking his cock again. It zaps into the coil in the pit of his stomach, but if he goes slow he’s sure he can go at least thirty second before he’s on the edge again.

“You have no idea, Steve,” he says, his tongue wetting his lips like he just might fall to his knees and start sucking Steve off for real. “I’d keep them nice and soft like you said you like. The inside of my mouth would be so wet—fuck, I’m salivating just thinking about it. And then I’d seal them around your big cock and hallow my cheeks when you least expect it, and you’d fucking thrust into my throat in surprise—”

Eddie moans, dropping his grip on himself yet again. That time it was really close; he can feel his dick pulsing under his pants. If he were alone, he’d push them down and watch as his cock twitched against his abdomen, angry at the loss of his fingers at the last possible moment.

Across from him, Steve speeds up; his hand moving in quick, short bursts against his tip. He makes his own noise, his eyes rolling back into his skull and then closing altogether.

It takes everything inside Eddie not to grab himself and come inside his pants right then and there. Shit, Steve looks so fucking good. Eddie desperately wants to see more. The colour of Steve’s dick, the way it strains, if it’s curved or straight, if it’s shiny. He wants to see it leak, wants to see Steve’s fingers catch the pearls of precum that are soaking through his pants and rub them into his skin. Wants to see it web between his fingertips—sticky and white. Wants to suck it off of them.

Shit. Fuck. It’s a miracle Eddie isn’t coming untouched. He’s still right there, on the verge of his orgasm. One single, insignificant, breath of a touch would one hundred percent set him off.

Steve’s eyes open. He drops his own dick, wipes his palm against his t-shirt. And he scootches closer to Eddie.

Just the brush of Steve’s thigh against Eddie’s makes him tremble, makes Eddie feel like he’s going to lose any semblance of control that remains.

They’re pressed right against each other. The length of Steve’s leg is warm and strong against Eddie’s, bigger than his. Thicker. Just like the rest of him.

Steve spits in his hand. Eddie watches as it pools in his cupped palm, watches as Steve brings that hand back down to the front of his pants. He stretches the waistband away from his body, and for a split second, Eddie catches a glimpse of his cock. Just the crown, broad and pink like Steve’s lips, right before the elastic snaps back and covers him again.

Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t you dare fucking come, Eddie Munson.

“And then,” Steve says, adding fuel to the fire, “I’m gonna bend you over the arm of this couch. You’ll look so hot, with your back arched and your ass on full display.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Fuck it. Eddie sticks his hand back down his pants, but barely touches himself. Just draws a line up the fat vein on the underside of his cock. He can feel his heartbeat under the pad of his finger.

“I’ll push into you so slowly. You’ll feel so full with my dick in your tight little asshole. And you’ll make those sexy little noises the whole time.”

Eddie makes one of them right as Steve says that—a low, quiet rumble from the back of his throat.

“Yeah, just like that. And then… then I’ll start fucking you. It’ll feel so good, Eddie.” Steve fucks his fist harder, his hips lifting from the couch like he’s chasing his own touch. His hand sounds wet on his cock, slapping and squelching each time it smacks against the base. “I’m gonna fuck you so good that you start crying. That you start screaming. Your scary neighbours will know how good I’m fucking you from the noises they hear coming out of your trailer.”

Eddie wonders if he lets himself come if it’ll be the end of whatever is happening. He knows for a stone-cold fact that he’ll be able to stay hard after the first time. But Steve doesn’t know that. Not yet. Maybe he should tell him.

But for now, Eddie tries to regain some control, some semblance of his quippy, cocky personality, just so he doesn’t come off entirely as a whimpering fool (if it’s not already too late). He tries to smirk. “Bold of you to assume I’m a bottom, Harrington.”

“A bottom?” Steve asks, and Eddie realises that maybe it’s a term that he’s never heard before. Because he’s straight… (question mark?). Again, Steve uses context clues. Smart guy. He presses impossibly closer into Eddie’s side, and asks, “Are you telling me you don’t want to feel my cock inside of you? Don’t want my cum dripping from your asshole for hours after we fuck?”

Eddie’s whole body vibrates. That’s it. The end. He fists his cock and pumps it hard, pulling his foreskin forward enough to cover the head, back to expose it, all underneath the checkered fabric of his pants. “I’m gonna come, Steve. I’m coming.”

His teeth bite painfully into his lower lip as he lets himself tumble from the ledge. Cum surges from his cock hard enough that he knows it would have painted his entire chest if it wasn’t contained inside of his pants. Each wave of his climax makes him whine aloud. It sounds crude, mixed with the slick slap of his hand against his skin.

“Shit,” Steve mumbles, staring as Eddie’s working fist, eyes blown wide like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

And maybe it shouldn’t, but Eddie’s left hand reaches out with a mind of its own, gripping high on Steve’s thigh. Squeezing it hard enough to leave a bruise, while his right is covered with hot, slick cum.

“Don’t stop,” Eddie babbles, riding out his orgasm for everything it’s worth. “Keep going. Keep talking. Don’t stop. I’m not finished yet, I wanna come again. Please. Please.”

“Oh, fuck, Eddie.” Steve brings his own hand down atop where Eddie’s is still sunk into the flesh of his upper leg. For a moment, he thinks Steve is going to pry his fingers away, but instead he laces them with his own.

It’s such a simple thing, holding hands, but it feels intimate. Intentional. Like this isn’t just some game.

Eddie shouldn’t be thinking that. But he is. He is. And it’s the moment he consciously knows he’ll be ruined for anyone else. End game for Eddie Munson. Steve held his hand while they jerked off. He’s in love.

Steve yanks him from his internal monologue. “You can come twice in a row?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, his hand still squeezing between his legs. Each stroke sends a bolt of lightening through his entire body, but his dick barely softens in his hand before it stiffens back up to steel once more. “Usually more than that. Four times if I want, but—but not as much cum comes out as the first.”

“Oh my God,” Steve breathes. “Fuck, that’s so hot. Can I… Can I see?”

His eyes flicker down to Eddie’s crotch.

“Sure.” Eddie pretends he’s confident as he tugs down his pants, lifting his hips enough to push the fabric under them.

His cock springs free from where it was trapped.

He doesn’t want to be self-conscious of his body, but he can’t help but wonder what Steve sees. If he’s at all disappointed that Eddie’s dick isn’t as big as his. It he thinks it’s weird that he’s uncut or that his dick curves upwards. If he let his pubes grow too long.

But Steve’s eyes go heavy with desire, taking in every inch of Eddie. The way his entire dick is shiny and sticky with his own cum, how it gets stuck in the hair that grows below it. His fingers squeeze around Eddie’s, involuntarily or in encouragement, he doesn’t know. But it makes him feel better.

Eddie is about to ask if Steve would show him more, too.

Steve beats him to it. “Do you want me to—?”

“Yeah. Fuck, yeah.”

Steve brings the hem of his shirt to his chin, catching it between his teeth. His whole chest is on display, his olive abs flexing as he pulls down the front of his sweats, tucking the elastic waist under his balls. His hand circles his cock, so thick his fingers barely meet.

And now they’re both just… bare. Basically naked as they jerk off next to each other, hands still intertwined like they’re some sort of couple. Things go quiet for a few moments as they just watch each other. How their hands work against themselves, speeding up, slowing, twitching.

Eddie’s cum gets sticky on his hand, against his cock. When he pulls his fingers away from his body it feels a bit like glue, tacking his hand up so much that it’s hard to slide it over his length.

“Spit on it,” Steve whispers, like he knows exactly what Eddie is thinking.

Eddie nods, bringing his hand up to his mouth—

“Wait.” Steve unlaces his fingers from Eddie’s, grabs his wrist. “Can I?”

“Shit.” Eddie huffs a breath through his nose. “Sure, Harrington.”

Steve lets a long string of saliva fall from his pretty, pink lips. It wets Eddie’s palm, mixing with the cum that covers it, making it slippery instead of sticky. Instead of letting go, though, Steve brings Eddie’s hand down to his own lap.

“Wanna switch?”

And—holy fucking fuck. Eddie trembles with ill-contained delight. He doesn’t even reply, just wraps his fingers around Steve’s cock before he can even think about what’s happening. What it means. That it’s changing the dynamic—they’re getting involved with each other instead of just themselves.

It doesn’t even matter. Not right now.

Steve’s head falls back against the cushions. “Oh God, that’s amazing.”

Eddie slides his fingers up Steve’s shaft—so heavy and hot in his hand—just as Steve described he liked. Soft and gentle. He twists his wrist in the same way Steve touched himself, watches as his lips part and his brows crinkle together, marvels at the vision of Steve’s cockhead surging from his grip, so flushed against the paleness of his hand and the silver of his rings.

He squeezes a bit harder and watches Steve’s hips rut towards him.

“You look so good,” he tells Steve, voice getting lost behind the moans that Steve keeps loosing from his lungs.

“Eddie?” Steve pants, thighs twitching as Eddie dares to circle his thumb around Steve’s slit, gathering more wetness to join the rest.

“Hmm?”

“Were you serious earlier?” Steve asks, barely a whisper. “About wanting to suck me off?”

Eddie’s hand stills on Steve, his eyes shining wide with shock and want. “Yeah? I mean—yeah. Very serious.”

“…Would you?”

Steve doesn’t have to say anything else. Eddie is already sliding onto the floor, already grabbing Steve’s knees and spreading them apart so he can slot himself between them. As soon as he’s bracketed by those strong thighs, they clamp down against his waist. A powerhouse of muscle, locking him to where he kneels.

Eddie is slightly intimidated by Steve’s cock. Will he have to unhinge his jaw like some sort of python to fit it in his mouth?

He leans down and kitten licks the tip, testing how it might feel on his tongue. Steve’s body jolts from that alone, makes a little whimpering noise that makes Eddie’s dick dribble onto the carpet.

“That’s it,” Steve encourages as Eddie’s lips close around the crown of his cock. “That’s perfect. Fuck, I can’t believe this is happening. It’s all I think about.”

Eddie moans, opens his jaw wider, and then sinks forward. Steve’s cock glides against Eddie’s tongue. It tastes like hot, sweaty skin. And cum—whether it’s Eddie’s from his hand, or Steve’s pre, it’s salty and heady and makes Eddie’s mouth even more wet as he salivates.

“Fuuuuck.” Steve’s fingers bury themselves in Eddie’s curls, tugging him closer.

It’s different than his fantasies. Steve doesn’t smell like honey and almond soap, and Eddie’s nose most definitely cannot reach Steve’s pubes, even as the tip of his dick brushes against the back of his throat. But the dark curls at the base are exactly as Eddie pictured. Perfectly trimmed and up-kept, as nicely as the hair on Steve’s head.

Eddie can’t help but pull off Steve to trail his tongue all the way down his shaft. He noses along Steve’s inner thigh, shamelessly burying his face in that thick thatch of chestnut hair. And then he deeply inhales the musky scent of Steve.

Steve groans, shallowly thrusting against Eddie’s cheek, the tip of his cock grazing Eddie’s ear, getting lost in his mane of hair.

A rope of drool connects Steve to Eddie, his tongue lolling from his mouth to rub against the side of Steve’s balls as he drinks in his smell. He dips his chin lower, until Steve’s dick is standing straight up, resting against his forehead.

The noise Steve makes is fucking sinful—completely wanton—as Eddie shoves his nose into Steve’s balls and breathes him in, committing everything to memory. His scent, his taste, his sounds, his face—everything.

Eddie isn’t sure if this will happen ever again. Isn’t sure if it’ll even be acknowledged. So he’s going to enjoy every goddamn minute while he’s so up close and personal with Steve’s cock.

“Ah—Jesus Christ. You are a freak, Munson.” Normally, those words might hurt. But Steve says them with such lust that it can’t possible be construed as anything but a compliment. Eddie wraps his hand back around Steve’s cock and starts pumping him with purpose, sucking his balls into his mouth and rolling them around his tongue. The wet, slurping sounds are totally lewd in the quiet air of the trailer. “Shit. Ohhh—shit. I’m close. I’m about to come.”

Eddie hums in encouragement, keeps his lips sealed around Steve’s balls. His hand flies above his face until he can feel how tight Steve’s balls get, can feel his cock pulsing in his hand.

He pops off, rests Steve’s cockhead onto his tongue, and jerks him off fast and dirty.

“Eddie—Eddie!” Steve’s thighs tense around Eddie’s middle. Cum surges from his slit into the back of Eddie’s throat in thick rivers, coating his tongue and teeth in sticky white release that he happily swallows down.

Fuck, Steve tastes good. Feels good. Sounds even better as he comes with Eddie’s name falling from his lips. Eddie closes his eyes and revels in the moment, lets himself savour the twitch of Steve’s dick as it empties into his mouth, the intrusion as he thrusts into Eddie’s throat, and the threat of himself gagging against it. He keeps swirling his tongue, even as Steve’s cum stops spurting. Even as his noises become high, and his body starts seizing with each flick against his sensitive tip.

Eddie desperately wants to make the moment last forever, doesn’t want to acknowledge that Steve is basically crying from overstimulation above him.

Finally, the fingers in Eddie’s hair tug him away. He whines at the sudden emptiness, wants to lean back in and feel Steve’s cock soften completely inside of his mouth.

Steve’s eyes are still blown and lustful, and strangely soft, as he says, “That was so fucking good.”

He smiles and gives Steve’s knees a squeeze as he leans back, his own shaking under his weight as he hauls himself back up onto the couch. He feels a little weird now that Steve came, because Eddie is still hard. Still wanting. But he also came once himself. Not from Steve’s hands but from his words, and it was enough. Maybe he should just tuck himself away and let this thing end naturally—

Before he can make a decision, Steve is reaching towards Eddie’s lap. “Is this okay?” he asks as he wraps his fingers around Eddie’s cock.

Eddie lets his gaze fall between his legs. His dick gets swallowed up by Steve’s big hands. He likes the way it looks so red as it peeks out from his fist.

“Is that a real question?” Eddie’s hands flounder in the air before they land on the couch cushions and bury themselves there, his nails digging into the upholstery as Steve starts fucking him with his hand.

“I knew you’d be good,” Steve says lowly. “Knew your hands and your lips would feel incredible. I can’t believe how hard you made me come. I wanna make you come like that.”

Eddie’s jaw swings open and his eyebrows knit together, and he thinks to himself that it’s not going to take long at all for Steve to get what he wants.

Steve leans forward, and for a second Eddie thinks he’s going to put his mouth on him, but he just lets a string of spit fall onto the tip of Eddie’s cock and gathers it with his hand, spreading it along his skin that moves in tandem with his strokes. It’s almost as good.

“Oh, Jesus—Steve.” Eddie sucks in a breath as Steve’s fingers tighten, forcing a bead of precum from his slit. “I’m gonna come again. Keep doing that. Keep—keep doing that!”

Steve nods, watching as he works Eddie back to the edge. Watching as he expertly rubs his thumb against the spot that makes Eddie see stars.

His second orgasm is stronger than his first. Eddie’s vision blurs out of focus—probably because his eyes are crossing—and the noise he makes sounds like an animal getting fucking murdered. The muscles in his torso tighten and tense and shudder as Steve enthusiastically jerks his dick, cum gathering in his fist, eyes watching with rapt attention.

Eddie’s body goes limp as Steve slowly lets go of him. When he’s able to focus his eyes, he notices that Steve is looking at his hand in fascination, watching Eddie’s cum stretch between his fingers as he scissors them.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever done that,” he says, bringing his wet hand up to his face. Steve smells his fingers, and then decides to bring them to his spit-slicked lips. One of his fingers pop into his mouth, and he hums around it, as if he’s actually enjoying the taste of Eddie’s release.

Yep. Eddie could definitely, without a doubt, go a third round.

But before his dick does something stupid like get stiff again, he tucks himself away. “And? What did you think?”

Steve pulls his finger from his mouth, grabbing an old napkin from the coffee table to wipe the rest of Eddie’s spend from them. “I think I was wrong.”

Eddie’s heart hammers in his chest, waiting for Steve to start berating him or something for making him do something gay. Even though he’s pretty sure he wasn’t the one who initiated it.

But Steve just smiles and cocks his head to one side. “You definitely aren’t bad at dirty talk.”

A sigh of relief heaves from Eddie’s chest. He smacks Steve’s shoulder, but he smiles right along. “You’re a prick.”

As he stands to grab a towel from the bathroom, Steve calls behind him, “You seemed to like my prick.”

Eddie blushes ferociously. He catches his expression in the mirror and tries to wipe it away, but it’s impossible. He’s just bound to look like a totally fucked-out dipshit for the rest of his life, he guesses. As soon as the water runs warm, Eddie washes his hands and wets two towels. He cleans off his dick and his sticky thighs, and brings the second one to the gorgeous man who’s back to lounging on his living room couch.

“Did you?” Steve asks, taking the towel to better clean his fingers. When he shoves it down the front of his pants, Eddie adverts his eyes.

“Did I what?”

“Enjoy it?”

“Jesus,” Eddie laughs. “Yes, Steve, I enjoyed it. Fuck.”

“Good.”

Eddie sits next to Steve and tries not to let himself feel awkward. “Yeah. Good.”

“Want to watch Labyrinth now?” Steve casually digs into the bag he brought, grabs the VHS and wiggles it in front of Eddie’s face.

“Absolutely,” says Eddie.

They pop in the tape, and the TV screen glows blue before it starts playing through the ads. Steve sits next to Eddie, their thighs pressed up against each other, just like they had been before.

Steve reaches over and laces his fingers with Eddie’s. They stay like that for the whole movie.

_____

It’s been three days since Steve left. Since Eddie has even heard from him. Keith makes sure they don’t have many shifts together at Family Video (because they never got any work done), so it’s not uncommon that they go this long. But Eddie’s anxiety makes it feel like it’s the end of the fucking world.

God forbid he reach out to Steve himself.

But by the end of the third night, he gets a phone call.

“Hello?” he answers.

“Hey, man.” Steve is on the other line, sounding chipper and unphased.

Maybe Eddie was overthinking it.

“Oh, hey!” he says, a little bit too enthusiastically. He dials it back a bit, clears his throat. “What’s up?”

“Not much. Just got off work. I have the afternoon off.”

“Sweet.” Eddie nervously twirls the chords between his fingers. Time to be brave. “Do you—maybe—want to hang out then?”

“Yeah. That’s why I called, actually. I stole Psycho III from Family Video. Want me to bring it over?”

Eddie’s shoulders sag in relief. Things aren’t changing. Steve won’t estrange himself after what happened, because he’s a good person. Eddie doesn’t even know why he was worried in the first place.

“Sounds perfect.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, cool.”

A few ticks go by, and then Steve quietly asks, “Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m just wondering…”

Eddie waits, the suspense nearly killing him. “Wondering what, Steve?”

“…What are you wearing?”

MASTERLIST

SOCIALS

[chvoswxtch]

stakeout

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: going on a stakeout with frank doesn't go anything like you thought it would.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of guns, a lil steam ;)

word count: 9k

a/n: fun fact: I originally started writing this specific idea as a standalone fic months ago & then when i started doing this series, i knew it would be perfect for it, & i've been excited to finish it & share it with y'all ever since. grab a snack & a drink, get comfy, bc this is almost 30 pages of yearning & pining for our favorite soft bad boy frankie. thank you so much to my darling angel @spoodermain for being my wonderful beta reader & offering your genius feedback that really made this part shine. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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How you had managed to talk Frank into letting you join a stakeout with him, you still weren’t sure, but it was nothing like you thought it would be. The entire three hour drive upstate was nearly composed of pure silence, only interrupted by trivial questions on your behalf, and answers in the form of monosyllables and grunts on his. The two of you had been sitting in his truck for almost six hours now, parked off on the side of a dirt road a good distance away from what looked like an abandoned warehouse that you hadn’t seen anyone enter or leave from.

You were going absolutely fucking stir crazy.

“Why can't we just go in?”

Frank let out a deep exhale through his nose, glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye in pure annoyance before returning his attentive gaze back to the warehouse.

In his defense, you had asked this question at least five times already.

Letting out an impatient sigh of your own, you turned your body slightly in the passenger seat to face him while gesturing loosely to the warehouse with your hand.

“Frank, we haven't seen anyone in hours. We could go in, take a look around, and probably be back before anyone even-”

“Hey hey, no. Ain’t no we. Alright, you’re stayin’ your ass right here. And I already told you why. It’s too out in the open. I got no way of knowin’ if there’s anyone in there watchin’, and I can’t tell if they got some kind of security system ‘round the place-”

“So call Billy. See if he knows-”

“Bill ain’t the head of security for the entire goddamn world.”

Frank’s snappy quips and his irritated tone had you throwing your hands up in exasperation, and you dramatically sank back into the passenger seat of his truck, glaring out your window as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Fine. Then I guess we’ll just keep sitting here in fucking silence and you can keep brooding.”

Frank let out another heavy exhale from deep within his chest, and you could practically feel his intense stare against the side of your face.

“Look, I know this ain’t the most excitin’ thing, and you can’t sit still to save your goddamn life, but this is how we do this smart, and it’s how I keep you safe, alright? I ain’t takin’ any risks with you. I know patience ain’t your strong suit, but I need ya to try for just a little longer, alright? We don’t see any movement in the next hour, we’ll call it, and try again tomorrow. See if we can come up with another plan. Yeah?”

“Fine.”

Frank let out a tiny chuckle at your bratty response, and all of a sudden you felt something land in your lap. You glanced downwards as a crease formed between your brows, seeing an extra large version of your favorite candy bar. When your eyes flickered over towards Frank in curiosity, you noticed that he was already eyeing you with an amused smile. He shook his head slowly, returning his line of sight to the warehouse with another soft chuckle.

“Eat that and quit poutin’.”

A light scoff left your lips when you picked up the candybar and tore open the wrapper, suddenly noticing the way that you had been ignoring your body’s alerts of hunger. 

“I’m not pouting.”

“Whatever ya say, sweetheart. Just remember, you asked to come along.”

“And you let me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Frank shook his head again in response to the pure sass dripping from your voice, and you caught the way the edge of his mouth tugged higher upwards into a wider grin.

“Thought this would be the one time you were quiet for some reason.”

Letting out a dramatic scoff of bewilderment, you reached out to smack your palm against his broad shoulder, which only caused laughter to bellow from deep within Frank’s chest. You doubt he even felt your feeble smack through the black denim layer of his jacket. Rolling your eyes playfully, you looked away with a tiny victorious grin after noticing the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed like that. 

He looked so carefree; like that usual heaviness he carried around wasn’t weighing him down, just for that small moment. Frank had such a beautiful smile, and it made you feel like the luckiest person in the world every time you got to witness it. 

Taking a small bite of your candybar, you muttered under your breath, making him snicker.

“Asshole.”

»»———　　———««

Forty five minutes later, a police car silently pulled up behind Frank’s truck, and your heart started to hammer wildly in your chest. The flashing of bright red and blue was almost blinding in the opaque darkness surrounding the empty dirt road he had pulled onto. The truck was parked far enough away from the property that the flashing lights shouldn’t have alerted anyone that could be inside, but the explanation as to why the two of you were here in the first place was a whole other problem.

Especially considering that you were technically “missing”.

“Shit.”

Frank hissed quietly as he stared at the patrol car in the side view mirror, his full lips settling into a hard line as he reached underneath his seat to retrieve a pistol that was hidden. Your eyes immediately widened as the silver metal became illuminated by the faint moonlight, and you glanced frantically between Frank’s stoic face and the cop car in the rearview mirror.

“What are you doing?”

Frank hastily brought his index finger to his lips when you whisper-yelled at him.

“Preparin’ for a problem.”

Frank’s eyes remained narrowed on the reflection in the side view mirror as he pulled the hammer back on the pistol, the sound of it cocking in place only fueling the speed of your tumultuous heart rate.

“Put it away!”

Scrunching up his dark brows, Frank turned his head slightly to stare at you incredulously as if you had just said the most ridiculous statement in the history of the English language. 

“What?”

“Frank-”

“You got a better goddamn idea?”

Great. You’re not even supposed to be here, and now you’re about to either go to prison or die in a shootout.

Your eyes frantically searched around Frank’s truck for something that could help the two of you out. As Frank rested the gun against his chest with a firm grip on the handle and his index finger pressed along the barrel, an idea suddenly popped into your head that made your stomach flip.

“Put it away.”

Frank turned his head and stared at you curiously when he heard the firm tone of your voice, but his confusion quickly morphed into pure annoyance. He scoffed, opening his mouth to protest before you turned in your seat to face him.

“You asked if I had a better idea and I do.”

Frank stared you down for what felt like an eternity. His features were set in a harsher version of their normal broody appearance, and the hardness in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. A muscle feathered in his jaw as he ground his teeth, stealing one last glance at the side view mirror before stashing the pistol back underneath the seat, grumbling a string of curses under his breath.

“Now what? What’s this grand fuckin’ plan of yours, huh?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the door to the patrol car swing open. Quickly dashing across the truck bench, you ungracefully climbed onto Frank’s lap. His entire body immediately went rigid, and he looked absolutely stunned as he stared into your eyes. 

“What-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you grabbed onto the back of his neck and leaned in to firmly press your lips against his. Frank stilled completely beneath you for a good thirty seconds, and you could feel the tension practically radiating from his body. You started to worry that maybe you should have at least given him a snippet of your plan before-oh.

Oh.

A warmth suddenly spread across your thighs and it took a second for your brain to register that it was from Frank’s hands. They experimentally roamed up the expanse of your thighs until they slowly climbed up your hips, settling on your waist in a firm but delicate grip. All the previous anxiety that was buzzing in your veins seemed to be drowned out by the sensation of the tender pace of his lips finally responding to your chaste kiss.

God, his lips were as soft as they looked, and so warm. There was a bitterness to the way he tasted from the copious amounts of freshly brewed black coffee he had consumed, but it was cut through by lingering sweet mint from the gum he had spat out earlier. 

The gentleness of his touch and his uncertain kiss was surprising for someone who was so rough in so many other aspects of their life. You couldn’t help but grab a small fistful of the collar of his gray henley while you melted into his strong chest, your fingernails lightly scratching at the back of his neck with your other hand, holding him as close as physically possible. A low groan sounded quietly in the back of Frank’s throat when you dragged your nails against his skin, and it traveled straight to your-

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Jumping at the sudden intrusion of noise, you turned your head to see a young officer staring between you and Frank awkwardly, the end of his flashlight hovering over the glass of the driver’s side window. When the window was slowly rolled down, the seriousness of the previous situation broke through the haze of lust you had found yourself in, and you suddenly remembered why you were in Frank’s lap in the first place. Before you could scramble out an explanation, Frank’s rough voice cut through the timid silence and startled you.

“What?”

The young officer jumped backwards immediately from the way Frank practically barked at him, and you turned your head to stare at him in surprise. His chest was rising and falling quickly, his thick brows were knit together in pure frustration, and you could see that familiar flame of rage burning in his eyes.

He looked pissed.

Looking back at the officer, you let out a nervous laugh as you pressed your palm flat against Frank’s chest in an attempt to calm him, flashing the young man a soft smile.

“I’m sorry, is…is there a problem?”

He gulped as his eyes flickered from Frank’s unwavering hardened glare to you, nodding slowly as he uncomfortably gestured behind himself with his thumb.

“I…sorry to uh…interrupt. It’s just…well…this is private property. You’re…technically trespassing.”

Hearing the aggravated grunt that sounded from Frank as he opened his mouth to speak, you quickly covered his mouth with your small palm and let out another nervous laugh, trying to keep the officer’s attention on you.

“I’m very sorry, that’s um…that’s my fault. It’s…it’s our first night with a babysitter so, we got a little…carried away. I’m sure you can understand?”

There was a hopeful tone to your voice as your lips parted into the most convincing charming smile you could muster at the moment, hoping he would take the bait so that you and Frank could leave without a scene being caused. When the young man’s lips parted into a light smile, you felt a sense of ease wash over you. 

“Of course, I can definitely…understand.”

But that ease was short lived when you caught where his line of sight went, and felt Frank’s grip on your waist tighten possessively.

As the young officer spoke those words, he made the mistake of letting his eyes wander over your chest in a shameless way, and you panicked when you felt Frank lean forward, reaching with one hand underneath his seat while also shielding your chest from the man’s prying eyes with his large body.

“The fuck are you lookin’ at?”

The officer instantly took another large step back, holding his hands up in surrender and mumbling a string of apologies as Frank started going off on him, reaching for the handle to the door. You quickly grabbed his jaw in your hand and forced him to look at you, staring into his furious glare with wide eyes as you whispered frantically through gritted teeth.

“Frank, stop it.”

Glancing back over at the young man, you let out a soft laugh as you waved your shaky hand dismissively. 

“I’m really sorry, we’ll just…leave. We’ll leave. Have a good night.”

Quickly rolling up the window, you scurried back into the passenger seat and swiftly put your seatbelt on. When Frank didn’t move an inch, you turned your head to look at him, seeing a twisted up concoction of anger and confusion on his features. You hysterically gestured towards the steering wheel as you gawked at him.

“What are you doing? Drive!”

Frank’s jaw hardened as he let out a heavy grunt, turning the keys in the ignition and flashing the officer one final death glare before peeling off onto the dirt road in the opposite direction. Once the patrol car was out of sight, you let out a deep breath of relief and held your face in your trembling hands as you tried to calm your nerves.

Your mind was racing with all the worst possible case scenarios. What if that officer was with the Defenders of Freedom too? Is that why he was on that road? Did he get Frank’s license plate? Is he telling the others that the two of you found their base of operations? What would-

“That was good quick thinkin’.”

Frank’s gravely voice cutting through the silence made you realize that neither of you had spoken in the past ten minutes. Turning your head to look over at him, your brows knit together in puzzlement.

“What?”

Frank’s eyes darted over to you timidly, only for a moment, before settling back on the road in front of him.

“Your…plan.”

His voice sounded somewhat strained, and you noticed his features were blanketed in an expression you couldn’t fully make out from the faint glow of the street lights. He almost looked…shy?

Shy was not a word you would ever normally use to describe Frank Castle.

There was suddenly a feeling of heat nipping at the tops of your cheeks, and you were swiftly aware of the lingering sensation of your lips tingling from the kiss. 

Is that why he couldn’t hardly look at you?

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable.”

Frank arched one of his thick brows as his eyes flickered back over towards you once again, his full lips pursing slightly as he nodded.

“Yeah…I s’pose they do.”

There was a layer of questioning in his tone, and you leaned back in your seat as you looked anywhere but at him while clearing your throat.

“It usually makes people look away, or want to get as far away from it as soon as possible.”

A quiet grunt of agreeance sounded in the back of Frank’s throat.

“That’s…smart.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between you and Frank, and the small unoccupied space in the middle of the truck bed suddenly felt like an ocean separating the two of you. Tension hung thick and heavy in the miniscule space of the cab like an awkward fog that you couldn’t have even sliced through with the sharpened hunter’s knife on Frank’s hip.

For the next half hour, the quiet thrum of the truck engine was the only sound disrupting the tense silence.

»»———　　———««

Stepping past Frank’s large frame into the motel room he had rented for the night, your eyes immediately landed on the bed in the middle of the room.

The bed.

The one. 

Single. 

Bed.

Glancing over your shoulder at Frank, he caught where your gaze had gone, and there was a sheepish expression on his face.

“Last room they had.”

Doing your best to appear nonchalant about the situation, you gave a slight nod of your head in understanding as you surveyed the room. The dingy wallpaper was beyond faded and peeling where the torn edges pulled away from the top of the wall. What had once probably been a tasteful shade of tan looked more like a muted shade of gold. The queen size bed in the middle of the room was covered in a multi-shade paisley quilt that the word ‘ugly’ couldn’t even begin to describe, and contrasted sharply with the hunter green carpet beneath your feet.

“You didn’t make a reservation?”

The joke you attempted to make to lighten the mood fell flat as Frank eyed you with an unreadable expression, dropping his black duffle bag onto the floor with a slight thud.

“Wasn’t expectin’ company. It ain’t the Ritz, but-”

“Frank, it’s fine. I was joking.”

“Right.”

The uncomfortable silence and awkward tension were absolutely killing you. 

Things had never been this weird with Frank, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. So you did the one thing you always did when you didn’t want to deal with an unpleasant situation.

You ran away from it.

“I’m gonna take a shower.”

About halfway through rushing towards the bathroom, you abruptly halted in your steps when you realized that you couldn’t shower because you didn’t have anything. You had slept at Frank’s last night, and you couldn’t go by your place this morning since it was an active crime scene. 

You had no clothes. No toothbrush. No nothing.

“Shit.”

“You alright?”

There was a cautious tone to Frank’s deep voice, but it was clearly laced with concern when it nestled in your ears. You turned around to face him, your lips pulled into a tight expression that was supposed to resemble a smile, but probably looked more like a grimace.

“I just realized I don’t have anything.”

Frank cocked his head to the side slightly while he looked over at you, curiosity and confusion swirling around in his deep brown eyes.

“We couldn’t stop by my place this morning…and we left kinda in a hurry…so…”

All of a sudden you could see realization dawning on Frank’s face. His features softened considerably, and he quickly glanced at the small analog clock on the nightstand by the bed. It was late, and you were nearly in the middle of nowhere in some small town upstate about twenty miles from the location Frank had been given. There was nothing around the motel except a rundown gas station and a little twenty-four hour diner.

Frank turned his attention back to you, and his dark eyes wandered over you for a second before he met your gaze again. There was an apologetic expression on his features as he reached down to grab his duffle bag, walking over to set it down on the edge of the bed while he unzipped it and started to rustle through it.

“Here, I got some stuff you can borrow-”

“It’s okay. I can just-”

“Ain’t a big deal. I got extras of some things. Can’t promise anythin’ will fit or smell pretty.”

Frank glanced up to flash you a tiny smile as he held out a small pile of things towards you. As you reached out to take the items from him, your fingers lightly brushed against his, and you felt a spark shock through your system. Looking up at him, your lips tugged into a tight timid smile while you nodded.

“Thanks, Frank.”

Without waiting for a response, you dashed into the small bathroom for some privacy, hoping you’d be able to get yourself the fuck together.

Any attempt you were going to make to try to push that kiss from earlier out of your head was completely ruined when you began to lather his body wash in your hands to rub it into your wet skin, being careful to avoid getting any suds in your hurt hand, and comb it through your hair, since Frank was apparently a two in one kind of guy. Even though the temperature of the water was a degree short of scalding, the areas of your body that had been caressed by Frank’s large hands burned hotter.

He had touched you, really touched you, beyond the point of just trying to sell your distraction. He didn’t have to kiss you back the way he had. He could’ve just let his lips stay modestly pressed to yours until the officer walked up.

But Frank seemed to have lost himself in the kiss just as much as you had. 

So why was he acting so strange now? If he wanted that kiss as much as you did, why was he acting more reserved with you now than he ever had before? Was his perceived passion blown out of proportion by your greedy and selfish imagination? 

Or did he simply regret it?

The whirlwind of questions and convoluted doubt only got worse when you slipped his clothes on. 

His clothes.

Frank had given you a long sleeve black t-shirt that was ridiculously soft and comfortable. You had recalled seeing him wear it on several occasions. While it fit him snugly, the sleeves hung comically off your hands, and the bottom of it reached the middle of your thighs. Your eyes had momentarily widened seeing that he had given you a pair of his black briefs, but they fit you somewhat better than the sweatpants he had offered. 

It felt strangely intimate to be in Frank’s clothes. Granted, wearing someone else’s underwear is kind of intimate, but it also made you feel…comforted in an odd way. You were completely doused head to toe in the familiar scent of Frank, and that made you feel safe in a way that you had only ever felt with him.

When you stepped out of the steamy bathroom, Frank was sitting on the edge of the bed with his phone in his hand, staring down at it intently. He perked up when he heard the bathroom door creak open, and his eyes instantly snapped over to look over at you. His dark brown eyes roamed slowly over the sight of you in his clothes, and when he finally met your gaze, there was a look there you hadn’t seen before.

But it made your knees weak.

Trying to dispel the thick layer of tension in the air, you cleared your throat as you slowly walked over towards him and handed the pair of sweatpants back with a soft smile on your lips.

“I gave them my best shot.”

Frank’s eyes softened slightly and he let out a light chuckle, taking the sweats from you to place into his own lap.

“Everythin’ else work alright?”

“Yeah…yeah, um…thank you.”

“Sure. We’ll find a store first thing in the mornin’, get ya some stuff. How’s the hand?”

Frank held one of his large hands out towards you expectantly, and without even thinking, you placed your injured one on top of his.

“It’s fine. I wrapped it.”

He pushed back the sleeve past your wrist to inspect your handiwork, delicately turning your wrist from left to right to examine the placement and tightness of the layers of gauze covering your wounded palm and fingers. He made a subtle expression of pride, his dark eyes flickering up to meet yours with a nod of approval. 

“Not bad.”

“I had a good teacher.”

Frank looked up at you with slightly raised brows, and then a quirk of a smile curled at the edge of his lips when it clicked that you had learned by watching him tend to your hand last night. 

“S’pose you did.”

When Frank let go of your hand and rose from the bed, he moved to step around you, and you watched him toe off his boots by the door before starting to rummage through his duffle bag again. He had ditched his black denim jacket, and it looked like his shirt was straining against the expanse of his large back. When your eyes wandered upwards, your breath caught in your throat seeing a faint pink vertical line on the back of his neck.

The one you had left with your nails.

A surge of heat instantly spread across the tops of your cheeks, and between your thighs, as the phantom touch of Frank’s firm grasp on your waist burned once again on your skin. You had fantasized so many times about sitting on Frank’s lap and kissing him like that, but your imagination could never compare to the real thing. Your lips started to tingle again at the memory of his warm and soft lips responding eagerly to your kiss, and your ears rang loudly with the echo of his low groan that had sounded in his throat. 

You were all of a sudden painfully aware of the fact that you were getting wet in Frank’s underwear. 

You had never been so affected just from kissing someone before. Not even when you made out with a boy for the first time. Or…any boy you made out with for that matter.

Hell, Steven couldn’t even get you that worked up with his hand in your panties and detailed fucking instructions.

But Frank…Frank just drove you absolutely fucking wild.

“What happens now?”

Frank turned his head to look at you over his broad shoulder when your soft voice cut through the stillness. You could hear the faint desperation in your own voice, and you knew it heard it too. Frank never missed anything. There was a hesitancy to his features, and irresolution swimming around in his eyes, like he wasn’t sure what exactly you were referring to. 

What happens with the investigation?

What happens tomorrow?

What happens next with us, Frank?

Frank carefully turned around to face you fully, and while his face appeared neutral, there was something glowing in his eyes.

“With what?”

His words were laced with pure curiosity, but there was a coveted challenge concealed within them. You didn’t have the courage to ask the question you really wanted the answer to, and you had a feeling Frank wouldn’t answer it unless he was prompted. Even then, there was a good chance he would avoid it. A sobering thought washed over you that you might not be prepared for that answer anyway, so you decided to play it safe.

“Well…we can’t go back there, right?”

Frank’s lips pursed into a somewhat thin line. He almost looked like he was disappointed by your choice of question. His pensive eyes studied you silently for a moment before clutching that same pair of sweatpants he had offered you in his large hand and stalking off towards the bathroom.

“I’ll figure somethin’ out.”

When the door to the bathroom firmly shut, you flopped back onto the stiff mattress with a heavy sigh and closed your eyes. 

It was going to be a very long night.

These sleepovers with Frank were not going the way you had fantasized about previously at all.

»»———　　———««

Ten minutes later, Frank quietly emerged from the bathroom, and your eyes doubled in size as your jaw nearly became fully unhinged. The dark gray pair of sweatpants that he had offered you were slung dangerously low on his hips, and a delicious white sliver of the waistband of his briefs were peeking out above them. His cropped dark hair was tousled in damp curls, and droplets of warm water cascaded down the expanse of his lean and toned figure. Frank’s skin looked so smooth, like an exemplary chiseled piece of artwork carved into tan marble; a Greek god perfectly immortalized in impenetrable stone.

Your rapacious eyes were particularly interested in a droplet that was leisurely making its way down one of his deep cut v-lines, only to become absorbed by the fabric of his sweats. While you were marveling at the view of the unveiled Adonis before you, a sight abruptly caught your attention.

There was a faint pink scar above his right hip.

In an instant, you were no longer staring at him through cherry tinted lenses of desire, but with a slight pang of sadness cutting through your chest. There were numerous scars marked on Frank’s body. Some were faded, nearly blending in with his normal flesh tone, while some were opaque, a clear striking contrast of pain endured in comparison to the untainted color of skin that had never known affliction. Some were deep indentations nestled in his skin, almost to the bone, while others casually crested above the sea level of undisrupted ripples of flesh. 

“I was a Marine.”

Frank’s deep voice cutting through the silence of the motel room swiftly redirected your line of sight to his face. He had a gray tank top in his large hands, and he subtly seemed to be wringing it with a twinge of nervousness. There was an unrestrained expression of aversion in his eyes, as if he didn’t know whether to hide the evidence of an unforgiving past, or allow you to consume this rare moment of vulnerability completely.

For a moment your eyes dropped to the chain around his neck. 

The gold wedding band.

You hadn’t seen a glimpse of it since that night at the bar, when you’d caught sight of him in your guest bathroom with a few of his shirt buttons undone. You still didn’t know if it was his or if it had belonged to his wife, or what happened to her, but it was hard to look at now.

You didn’t like seeing him look so uncomfortable, so you did your best to put him at ease with a tender smile on your lips as you looked up at him in genuine understanding and grace.

“That…actually makes a lot of sense.”

Frank glanced down at the shirt in his hands for a moment, an apparition of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as a dry and short chuckle escaped his mouth.

“I’ll try not to take offense to that.”

The elusive, light-hearted tone of his voice made you wonder if you could try to dismantle at least one of the many walls that he seemed to have up within him. You didn’t want to pry too much, but you’d had so many questions about Frank for months, and it seemed like he was finally giving you a rare window to get a few answers.

“Is…is that where those came from?”

“Most of ‘em.”

Frank kept his gaze averted downwards on the shirt in his hand as he spoke in a hushed tone, like his admissions couldn’t be uttered above a certain decibel level. It almost appeared as though it was easier for him to be vulnerable with you if he didn’t have to look at you. 

Was he nervous to see your reaction to his rare divulgence? Or was there something lurking in the shadows of history that he couldn’t face?

Was he thinking about your lips as much as you were thinking about his?

You had to focus. You weren’t sure how grand or miniscule this window of opportunity was with Frank. This moment could be just as magnificently fleeting as a shooting star escaping across the cosmos, and if you blinked at the wrong second, you would miss it. 

This could be your one chance to finally break through those meticulously crafted barriers of his. To unravel the chains of mystery that seemed to weigh him down, and finally erase that invisible line separating him from everyone else that he never seemed to let you cross. 

But, you couldn’t push too hard. If your curiosity was too intrusive, he’d immediately shut down. If you misstepped over the delicate minefield of his own temper, you risked an explosion. It had to be the most graceful balancing act you’d ever done.

You had to treat this like the most important story of your entire career. Carefully pose the questions as innocent conversation, instead of an interrogation, and give him the space to answer as generally or as detailed as he wanted to.

Billy’s advice seemed to echo in your ears at that moment.

You gotta let him come to you.

“How long were you in the Marines?”

“Did four tours.”

When you didn’t speak for a moment, Frank finally lifted his head to meet your gaze. There was a twinkle of amusement shining in his warm brown eyes at your evident confusion, and he let out a light chuckle as a crooked smile tugged across his lips.

“All in all, little over ten years.”

A faint blush layered over the tops of your cheeks at your own ignorance. Normally when you interviewed someone, you had the benefit of being able to research them beforehand. With Frank, you were having to make up everything as you go with the extremely limited knowledge you had of him, and of his experience. You knew virtually nothing about the Marines, or the military in general, but seemed to be feeling generous in offering explanations.

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I was good at it.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Frank glanced around the motel room for a moment, seemingly lost in his own thoughts while pondering the question that lingered between you. After a beat of silence, he sat down on the edge of the bed with a heavy exhale, just a few inches away from where you had been sitting cross-legged on the middle of the mattress, and turned his head to the left to look at you. 

“Did you always wanna be a journalist?”

Frank’s question took you by surprise. He didn’t often ask you personal questions about yourself, but you decided if you answered his questions honestly, maybe he would do the same.

“I’ve always been nosey.”

The corner of Frank’s full lips quirked up into a knowing smile, and you couldn’t help but let out a huff of air through your nose in a quiet snort.

“That don’t surprise me.”

Giving Frank a playful roll of your eyes in response to his comment, you lightly shrugged your shoulders, looking up at him with a faint smile on your lips.

“I’ve always liked story-telling. I’ve never really had the imagination to come up with my own, but I like other people’s stories, and I’ve always enjoyed writing. I thought a club would look good on my college applications, and I wasn’t very athletic or talented in anything else, so I decided to join my high school’s paper. That’s where I really fell in love with investigative journalism, which I realize sounds ridiculous given I was reporting high school ‘news’ but-”

“It ain’t ridiculous if it was important to ya.”

The sincerity in Frank’s tone coupled with the depth of his alluring gaze almost made you forget what you were talking about. It also made you suddenly aware of the fact that every time you downplayed yourself, Frank was quick to cut off your self-deprecation with a genuine sentiment. For a second, all you could do was stare into his eyes, until you decided to bare your soul in front of him.

“It was the first time I really felt like I was good at something. Like I…I had a purpose. I had something that was…mine. I could do something meaningful…something that mattered. It could be something I was proud of.”

Frank stayed silent while he soaked up the candor of your confession, like he was taking the time to commit every piece of it to memory. Sometimes you felt like he could see right through you when he stared into your eyes, and you felt incredibly small under his undivided attention. His head dipped slightly between his broad shoulders when he turned his head to stare down at his clasped hands for a moment.

“I never knew what the hell I wanted to do. I was a…bit of a troublemaker when I was a kid. My parents…they were older, ya’know? Couldn’t really do nothin’ to control me. I knew that, and took advantage of it. I was a real…”

“Asshole?”

Frank’s lips parted into a crooked smile, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I was gonna say prick. But…yeah. I was a little asshole.”

“Well thank God you grew out of that.”

Frank dropped his head slightly to stare back down at his hands again with a light chuckle. Your eyes followed his gaze, and you noticed a few scars covering his knuckles, resembling jagged designs carved into a tree trunk.

“I enlisted when I was eighteen. Thought…what the hell, ya’know? Was never any good at school or anythin’ like that…and I didn’t wanna get stuck at some…shit job. Thought it was my ticket out, ya’know? Get to travel, play with guns and tanks, that kinda shit.”

The light smile that had been on the edge of Frank’s mouth dissipated slowly, and his thick brows slowly drew closer in together while he rubbed his right thumb over the back of his left hand.

“Bein’ a Marine…it was the first time in my life I felt like I was worth a damn. Like I was really doin’ somethin’, ya’know? Somethin’ good…somethin’ important. I was good at it, damn good at it. Felt like I…like I finally found-”

“A purpose.”

Frank’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, and there seemed to be a shared expression of understanding between the two of you. You knew exactly what he meant, and he could see that reflected in your eyes.

“A purpose.”

He repeated those two words in a more quiet and contemplative voice, like he was repeating them more to himself than to you.

“So, how do you go from being a Marine to a bodyguard for a high maintenance journalist?”

“Just that goddamn lucky, I s’pose.”

The edges of Frank’s mouth twisted up into a sardonic smirk when he turned his head to look at you, and you were about to retort with a smartass comment of your own when you noticed something you hadn’t seen before.

Without even thinking, your hand reached out to trace a circular shaped scar on Frank’s left temple with your index finger. He didn’t go rigid when you touched him this time, not like he had in the truck. The smirk swiftly vanished along with the playful crinkles beside his eyes, and his full lips parted slightly while he stared at you intently as you lightly traced your finger over the mark. 

It was indented slightly, and you could feel the faint dip beneath your fingertip. The edges of it were tinted more of a blush shade, making it obvious this wound had been made more recently than some of the others adorning his skin. It almost looked like a bullet hole…and that idea had your stomach twisting into tight knots.

“What’s this one from?”

All of a sudden, Frank’s large hand wrapped around your wrist to push your hand away at the exact same time he turned he pulled his hand away from your delicate caress. His lips were now pressed in a line and that familiar hardness was back in his gaze. 

And just like that, whatever moment you two were having was clearly over. 

Frank suddenly stood from the edge of the bed and silently pulled his tank top over his head, slipping his large arms through the sleeve holes and covering his body with the dark gray fabric.

“We should call it a night.”

Frank’s voice was flat, and you felt a surge of frustration burn in your bloodstream. Every time you felt like you were getting somewhere with him, he pulled back. It was like you were constantly trying to carefully navigate your way up an unclimbable mountain, and as soon as the peak came into view, you lost your footing and fell to the bottom. 

He grabbed one of the pillows from the bed and tossed it onto the floor, and a crease of confusion settled in the middle of your forehead.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll take the floor. You can have the bed.”

You looked down at the queen size bed you were sitting on top of, a bed of which you barely took up any space, and then looked back over at Frank, who was in the middle of making a pallet on the floor.

“Frank, you don’t have to sleep on the floor. This bed is big enough for both of us.”

“Slept in worse conditions.”

You pinched at the bridge of your nose in pure irritation at both the insensitive implications behind his remark and his unrelenting stubbornness.

“So you’ve told me, several times. Thank you, by the way, for telling me that you think sharing a bed with me is worse than whatever the hell your setup was in the military. You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Castle. I had no idea you were such a poet.”

Frank’s face twisted up in puzzlement and aggravation at the tone of sarcasm dripping from your clipped words.

“That ain’t what I-”

“I don’t want to hear a single complaint in the morning when you’re stiff and sore from choosing to sleep on the fucking floor.”

As you vexingly tugged back the thin and somewhat stiff quilt on top of the bed, you slid beneath it, the scratchiness of the cheap sheets against your bare legs only souring your mood even further. While you turned onto your side away from Frank and harshly smacked your hand against the button to turn off the lamp on the nightstand, he stared down at you with furrowed dark brows and a heavy frown in complete exasperation and perplexity.

“Oh for fucks-why is it always a goddamn argument with you?”

“Why are you always such an ass?”

“I’m an ass for tryin’ to be a gentleman and make sure you’re comfortable?”

Dragging your palms down your face with an irritated groan, you furiously sat up in the bed to look over at Frank with an exacerbated expression while the two of you raised your voices at each other in yet another argument.

“How are you making me uncomfortable if I’m offering, Frank? This bed is big, so big that you wouldn’t even have to breathe the same air as me. We could even put pillows down the middle just to make sure that we don’t accidentally touch in the middle of the night, because God fucking forbid-”

“Oh Jesus fuckin’ Christ, fine.”

Frank ripped the pillow off the ground and angrily tossed it onto the bed, tugging the covers back from the other side of the mattress to slip underneath angrily. He turned his head to glare at you as he harshly gestured towards himself in the bed.

“There? Happy? You gonna stop fuckin’ givin’ me shit, now?”

Returning Frank’s fuming glare with one of your own, the two of you seemed to be locked in an angry staring contest until you conceded and turned over again, dragging the unpleasant quilt up to your chin. You grit your teeth as you squeezed your eyes shut, letting out an aggravated exhale through your nose. 

As hot as your blood felt in your veins, there was also a nauseating feeling of disappointment settling in your stomach.

Frank wasn’t thinking about your lips. He wasn’t thinking about your kiss at all. If he was, it was him wishing it didn’t happen.

Maybe that was part of the reason he wanted to sleep on the floor and seemed so pissed off at you. He didn’t want to be near you. He was mad that you kissed him without his permission. 

You’d made him uncomfortable.

On the other side of the bed, Frank stared at the back of your head in the dim amber light of the room coming from the other bedside lamp. Turning his head to stare straight ahead blankly at the wall in front of him, he closed his eyes for a moment and let out a slow and heavy exhale as he grumbled a string of curses under his breath. 

After a few terse minutes of deafening silence, you could feel Frank shifting underneath the sheets, and his gravelly voice filtered in through the dense quiet.

“Look, I wasn’t tryin’ to hurt your feelin’s-”

“You didn’t-”

“Yes, I did. I wasn’t implyin’ that sharin’ a bed with you was such a bad thing, alright? I only meant I slept in worse places than on a floor, s’all.”

Frank genuinely sounded apologetic, and you felt a rush of guilt wash over you from the way you had twisted his words, jumped to conclusions, and reacted poorly. He let out another heavy sigh before speaking again.

“I just…wanted you to feel comfortable.”

The hushed tone of his voice made it sound like he was entrusting you with his deepest secret. Swallowing down your pride, you turned on your side to face Frank, looking over at him silently for a moment before letting out a soft sigh.

“Frank, you’ve never made me uncomfortable.”

He was laying on his back, his head slightly propped up against the headboard, but his face was turned towards you. He seemed to be searching your eyes for any thread of faultiness in your words that he could unravel. 

“I…I’m sorry I called you an ass.”

“You’re sorry for tellin’ me the truth?”

Frank arched one of his dark brows, and you could detect a faint smirk on the edge of his lips, even in the dim light of the room. You rolled your eyes as you laughed quietly.

“Can you just let me just apologize to you for making an ass of myself?”

Frank eyed you for a moment with a sly tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Aren’t good reporters s’posed to reserve their conclusions ‘bout somethin’ ‘til they got all the evidence?”

The low, hushed tone Frank spoke in to not disrupt the quiet peace that settled between the two of you made his voice sound sultry. That twinkle of amusement was shining in his eyes again, and you fought the grin that threatened to take over your lips.

Playful Frank was your favorite Frank.

“Are you implying that I’m not a good reporter, Mr. Castle?”

A low chuckle rumbled in Frank’s throat as he moved his right arm behind his head, closing his eyes while he turned his head to face upwards with a faint smirk on his lips.

“Considerin’ you’re trigger happy, and there’s ‘bout three guns within your reach, no. Absolutely not.”

“I am not-”

“Did you not just jump all over my ass a second ago over a misunderstandin’?”

Frank opened his eyes to look over at you, his thick dark brows raised slightly while that faint smirk remained subtly on his full lips.

Narrowing your eyes playfully, you poked your tongue against the inside of your cheek and lightly shrugged your shoulders beneath the quilt.

“Well, you gave me the conclusion that you were an ass the first day I met you, and you’ve only reinforced it since then. You also did just admit on record that you’ve been an ass since you were a kid, so.”

Another chuckle sounded from Frank as a grunt of agreeance sounded in his throat.

“I reckon you’re right ‘bout that.”

A few moments of tranquil quiet passed by between the two of you, but you were buzzing with questions on the inside. However, something he said abruptly clicked in your brain, and your eyes widened as you looked over at him.

“Frank?”

“Yeah?”

“Are there really three guns in this room?”

“Three on your side.”

Blinking a few times in dumbfoundment, your brows knit together as you stared over at him incredulously.

“What…what do you mean ‘three on my side’? How many are on your side?”

“Two, and a knife.”

“Jesus Christ, Rambo. Anything else?”

Frank let out a deep and amused chuckle at that, placing his left hand on his chest as he shifted slightly on his back to get comfortable.

“In the truck, yeah.”

“What? There’s more?”

“Go to bed.”

There was no firmness in Frank’s voice, just complete entertainment. You glanced around the dimly lit motel room cautiously, wondering where he might have placed them.

“Where are they?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Letting out a scoff, you turned your head to look at him in minor annoyance.

“What if someone tries to break in?”

“I’ll handle it.”

You narrowed your eyes at the mirthy smirk curling on the edge of his mouth.

“What if…five people break in?”

“Highly unlikely, but both guns on my side got a clip that hold 12 rounds. You done?”

An exasperated huff left your lips as you turned to lay on your back and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Isn’t it proper safety protocol to let someone know where loaded firearms are stashed?”

“They ain’t loaded.”

“You just said-”

“The ones on my side are loaded. The ones on your side ain’t.”

“Why the hell not?”

“You said it yourself. You’re nosey, and you never even held a gun before.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but to your irritation, Frank had a point. Not that you would admit that out loud to him. 

A few minutes of silence passed by before you spoke up again.

“You could always teach me.”

Frank opened his eyes and turned his head slightly to look at you, staring at you in a mixture of interest and confusion.

“Teach you what?”

You turned back onto your side to face him and lightly shrugged your shoulders.

“How to shoot.”

It was Frank’s time to stare at you in dumbfoundment. He arched one of his thick brows while he eyed you.

“You wanna learn how to shoot?”

“I mean…people are only trying to kill me.”

Frank didn’t return the playful smile that you flashed him, and it quickly fell from your lips. This was not going to be something he was going to agree to easily. You were really going to have to fight for this one. You had to show him that you were serious.

“If you hadn’t shown up last night, those men were going to kill me, Frank. I don’t ever want to feel that helpless ever again.”

The devout honesty in your voice was unmistakable, and Frank let out a deep exhale as he turned his head to look up towards the ceiling and closed his eyes again.

“Let’s deal with this shit first, then we’ll talk.”

There was a tiny surge of victory that coursed through you at that. It wasn’t technically a yes, but it also wasn’t a flat out no. You just needed to keep proving to him that this was something you were serious about.

You wanted to bring up the kiss, but you weren’t sure how to approach it. You didn’t want to ruin the peace your playful banter had brought about with Frank, but you couldn’t leave it alone. 

Why was he so goddamn hard to read?

Why was he still being so hot and cold with you?

Even if he was still your bodyguard, the two of you were way past the point of professionalism.

“Frank?”

“Hm?”

“I…I’m sorry…if I made you uncomfortable.”

The thin material of the pillowcase rustled loudly in the quiet as Frank turned his head to look at you inquisitively, like he had no idea what you were talking about.

“Earlier…when I…kissed you.”

There wasn’t a desert on any continent as dry as your mouth right now, and your heart was pounding so relentlessly against the sturdy ivory of your ribcage, you swore he could hear it a few inches away.

The cloudy ignorance seemed to dissipate from between his brows, and his features migrated to an expression of recognition. For a moment he didn’t say anything, and it made you realize you found his silence far more unnerving than his unwanted answers.

“You didn’t.”

There was such a confidence behind those two words that it nearly knocked the breath out of your lungs. Those two little words held so many portals of possibilities.

You didn’t; it just caught me off guard.

You didn’t; everything is fine between us.

You didn’t; I wanted to taste you.

Staring over at Frank, words seemed to completely vanish from your brain. You didn’t know what to say. You had no idea how to respond to that. The intensity of his piercing gaze sent a slight shiver tumbling down your spine despite the blazing warmth you could feel radiating from his body a few inches away from you.

The amber glow from the bedside lamp lit up his eyes like the golden hour of sunlight shining through a glass of whiskey. You wanted to get lost in him again. You wanted to take your rightful place on the throne of his lap, tangle your fingers in his hair like a crown, and let him rule over the kingdom inside your body.

“Frank.”

Was the delicate whisper of his name a desperate plea, or an enticing invitation? 

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he answered it.

For a moment, his mesmerizing stare dropped to your lips, and you swore you saw him start to lean in-

But then at the last second, he cleared his throat and turned over onto his side away from you, moving as close to the edge of the bed on his side as he could get. Frank’s voice was rough when it reached your ears, no trace of the warm and playful tone he had used just minutes ago.

“Get some sleep.”

That hopeful ember of desire that he had ignited in you had been completely snuffed out by his own hand before the flame could even catch, and the ambient light in the motel went out along with it leaving you in dumbfoundment and darkness.

tags: @twoshields @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @ferns-fics @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @yeah3459 @collaps3r @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @annalism @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98

[seeingivy]

out of the woods

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

--

satoru gojo finds hope in the simplest things. 

because despite it all, if anyone was allowed to fall straight into despair – if anyone had the right to –  it would be him. 

but he simply can’t. 

only because every time he finds himself at the edge of the cliff, there’s always something pulling him back. 

a bratty six year old with spiky hair, his smiley older sister, or you – his beloved coworker that he, by the grace of god, charmed right into his hand. a bored salesman, an over-enthusiastic pink-haired high school student, and the ingredients to rice balls. 

he supposes that’s why the words don’t hit him. that every other time, there were two, four, or six hands pulling him back. but the depths of this won’t impact anyone the way it would impact him. that he’d fall on his own this time. 

there would be a pair of hands missing. 

all he can think about is that the chairs in the ward are rather uncomfortable, that all hospitals have the same, shitty fluorescent lights, and that megumi’s probably wondering why the two of you haven’t called him to check on him after his mission yet. 

that you would have made some shitty joke about sitting in his lap instead of sitting in the chairs, that you’d complain the lighting in the room was too dingy to take any good pictures, and that you’d call megumi the second you knew he was home. 

“so when will she remember?” gojo asks. 

shoko looks at him, steely eyes staring back into his, and it’s enough to push him over the edge. he can tell there won’t be any pulling this time. 

“we have no idea of knowing when she’ll be out of the woods. it could be three days for all we know.” shoko states. 

“or three years.” gojo states. 

shoko swallows hard. 

“or three years.” shoko affirms. 

satoru realizes there’s three stages to it, two weeks after the fact. 

first, the slow walk to the edge of the cliff, with everything looming below him – the mere fact that he could sense that something went wrong when kugisaki returned from her mission alone. 

second, the pause right at the edge, where the rocks begin to crumble under his feet. there’s a wide expanse in front of him, ice cold water that he could plunge into at any second, and he can slightly feel himself leaning forward – someone telling him straightforwardly, shoko’s warm hands on his shoulders when he explained. 

and lastly, the plunge. it’s cold air obliterating his ears as he falls, the crush so hard that he can barely stand when it happens. and he makes no efforts to stand back up once he’s fallen, because for all he knows, his limbs are broken – when he has to sleep in his bed without you for the first time. 

satoru gojo finds hope in the simplest things, until he doesn’t. because the woman he’s spent four years loving doesn’t even remember who he is. 

--

the first thing you remember is icy blue eyes. in some object permanence, child-like type of way, it’s the only thing that makes you feel safe now. 

that and the fact that he’s always here. 

“okay, y/n. can you tell us what you remember?” 

shoko is standing across from you – gloved hands on her clipboard as she holds her pen firmly in her hand. 

“my name is y/n l/n. i’m a jujutsu sorcerer and a teacher at jujutsu tech. i lost my memory three months ago on a mission with one of my students when i got struck by a curse.” 

you try not to visibly wince. or make long pauses. only because it makes shoko and satoru’s faces droop a little more when you do. recalling the memories gets easier, more repetitive as time goes on, but it still feels like a warm sting rod is hitting the raw parts of your brain at times. 

“do you remember the student’s name?” shoko asks. 

“kugisaki.” 

“okay, that’s good. do you know who we are?” she asks. 

the instruction is helpful. the questions feel like a soft guidance – like each of your memories has been placed in a room that you need to unlock and that she’s presenting you right at the doorstep of the room. 

“you’re shoko. my doctor. but we were friends before in school.” you add. 

“that’s right. what about him?” 

you look over at satoru, at the way he’s stiffly sitting in the chair next to you. 

every time you look at him, the smiles are always genuine. soft and sweet – always accompanied with a gentle nod to encourage you. but you can tell from his posture, from the darkness under his eyes, that it must bother him all greatly. 

though, he has every right to be upset, to be tired. 

“that’s satoru. he was here when i woke up. and he’s my husband.” 

shoko scratches on the clipboard before she gives you a smile. 

“that’s good. anything else?” 

you frown. 

“no. no, i don’t think so.” you murmur. 

she gives you a nod, as she sets the clipboard down. and when she starts rummaging through her drawers, you feel your heart sink at what comes next. 

“wait. wait, can we not do that today?” 

shoko looks back at you, quickly flickering her gaze to satoru, before she meets your eyes again. 

“it’s really best if we try little by little, everyday. i need to be careful when we use reverse cursed technique on something so malleable as a brain and memories, so it needs to be in small amounts. but consistent. we can’t skip and lose precious time.” 

you look over at satoru, reaching for his wrist. his skin is searing and warm under your fingertips, and you squeeze hard over his pulse point. 

please. 

satoru gives you a nod, before sighing, and looking back up at shoko. 

“can i talk to her alone?” he asks. 

shoko gives him a curt nod, before shuffling out of the room and sliding the door closed. you look back at satoru, as he gestures for you to talk. 

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position with your friend….i mean, our friend.” you clarify. 

“s’okay, bug. what’s wrong?” he murmurs. 

satoru watches as you squint your eyes, an elongated pause in your response. 

one of shoko’s directions to him was to try to sprinkle normalcy in as much as he could – nicknames, memories, common phrases –  in hopes that something would trigger in your memory and help you remember. 

he’s supplied you with each story when you don’t remember and he can tell that you’re trying to commit them all the memory again. to retrieve the memories that he’s told you. 

“bug.” you state. 

“that’s right.” 

“because…” 

“we were on a mission and-” satoru adds. 

“and the curse was a bug.” you finish. 

satoru smiles brightly. it almost feels like praise, when he looks at you so warmly. when you can remember something. 

“big insect type thing.” satoru confirms. 

“and i hate bugs. so you started calling me bug because…” 

you frown. 

“i forgot why you did that.” you state. 

satoru scoffs. 

“it’s called flirting, princess. though, that was never your forté.” 

you smile. 

“you have horrible game.” you respond. 

you can tell that the tiny gripes make satoru really happy. you recall shoko telling you a story about how it related to something from before, but you can’t really recall exactly what it was. regardless, the smile you always get feels good. 

“oh yeah?” he asks. 

“mhm. you think calling the girl you like a bug is flirting?” you state. 

“girl i love. and you can’t even accost me for it, because it worked. we’re married, idiot.” 

the blunt admission makes your chest hurt. only because you can tell that he means it earnestly. 

and that it must be painstakingly true – that satoru gojo loves you – because he’s still sitting here three months later, when you can barely remember his name at times. or the fact that you clearly must have been in a very loving relationship with him if he’s still sitting here with you when he could, and maybe should have, run. 

you squeeze hard on his pulse point again, your hands still curled around his wrist. he uncurls his hand from your hold before locking his fingers in with yours and squeezing your hand back. 

“you’re like a space heater, satoru.” you state. 

“it’s part of my charm. when we still slept in the same bed, you’d always put your ice cold feet on my legs and try to steal my warmth.” he states. 

“and you’d let me?” you ask. 

he smiles. 

“and i’d let you.” he affirms. 

you swallow hard. 

“sorry. i’ll do the treatment thing. i just hate how it makes me feel after. s’kind of like…my brain got fried? and sometimes it jumbles things up more so i feel like i’ve barely made any progress. and….and i want to remember you all really badly i just-” 

you feel the warmth on your cheek this time, his nimble fingers transferring warmth to your face this time. 

“we know. just take your time, okay? we’re not going anywhere.” 

--

six months after the fact, satoru throws you a birthday party. 

it’s hard not to hold onto him like a tether when you go out in big crowds – the overstimulation  nauseating at times. and it makes your chest swell that he firstly, realizes it, and second, refuses to leave your side because of it. you lock your fingers in with his as he lightly guides you through each of the people in the room. 

“y/n sensei!” 

you swallow hard as four people present themselves to you, a harsh squeeze on satoru’s fingers. he obliges quickly, a hand on your back as you shake your head. pink hair, brown eyes. 

“you’re choso?” you ask. 

you watch his face fall quickly, before he shakes it off. 

“no, no. this is choso. but you were close, he’s my brother! we talked about him last time i saw you.” he responds, gesturing to the boy at his left. 

“right. i’m sorry. it’s todo.” you state. 

“no, no. he’s todo.” the boy responds again, this time gesturing to the boy at his right. 

you feel another hand loop around you – cold hands on your shoulders – that you welcome. that you easily recognize as one of the other constants, besides satoru. 

“ignore yuuji. and i promise, it’s just as confusing when you can remember it too.” megumi states. 

you smile. 

“are you flattering me, megumi?” you ask. 

satoru reaches forward, and much to megumi’s dismay, flicks his forehead. 

“you’re such a mama’s boy.” 

“oh, leave him alone, satoru.” you state. 

the group of them smile, even the ends of megumi’s mouth upturning, as satoru feigns shock by clutching his hands to his chest. you give them all a smile as they break up into their own conversation. 

satoru gestures for you to follow him into the kitchen and you give the group of them a smile as you walk away. you push yourself onto the counter as satoru reaches for the birthday hat and a tiny little book before he makes residence in between your legs. 

“okay, you ready, bug?” he asks. 

“for?” 

“you love to take pictures. lots of them. you’re kind of the sentimental type. so…” 

satoru hands you the book as you start to flip through all the pages. each one has four little polaroids in it – of you and him, megumi sprinkled in here, with little captions on each of them. 

new year’s 2021 

megumi’s sweet sixteen 

shotgun wedding :D 

“shotgun wedding?” you ask. 

“we had a quickie court wedding before we actually got married because we couldn’t wait. anyways! we have to-” 

“wait.” you state. 

satoru stops, bright blue eyes staring into yours expectantly. you can tell that he’s trying to brush it off quickly from the way he’s jittery as he shakes the camera in his hands. 

“i know you don’t like to remember memories like this one because they make you sad but-” 

“they don’t make me sad.” satoru states. 

“don’t- don’t lie. i can hear you crying sometimes in the other room after we talk. and i feel bad but, but maybe it’ll click or something?” you ask. 

satoru sighs, before giving you a nod. and he recounts one of the best days of his life, in as much detail as he can. 

“what if we got married tomorrow?” you ask. 

satoru looks over at you, your glasses still perched on your nose as you work through the crossword puzzle in the newspaper. satoru always thought that it was a little bit corny that you did it right before you went to bed, like a little elderly lady, but knew better than to poke fun at your “enrichment time in your enclosure” as you so poignantly termed it. 

“huh?” he asks. 

“like. went to court. got married.” you shrug. 

satoru reaches for the newspaper, before quickly shoving it straight to the side – not short of any protests from you – as he crawls straight into your lap, nose only a few inches away from yours. 

“i was still doing that, idiot.” you state, cupping his face in your hands as you squeeze hard. 

“you want to marry me?” he asks, voice laced with excitement. 

you scoff. 

“are you dumb? we’re engaged, satoru.” 

“but you want to marry me. tomorrow?” he asks. 

satoru watches as you pause, eyes so full of love that it makes his chest hurt. 

“dunno. was just thinking about it.” 

“and?” 

“stop trying to get me to say something cute.” you state. 

“so you admit it. there’s something cute to say?” 

you smile, before pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“no.” you state. 

“c’mon. we’ll do it tomorrow if you tell me. i’ll wear a nice suit, you can wear that silky white dress you have. have sushi with megs after, he can be our witness. pick up rings, get a bouquet on the way.” 

you smile brightly. 

“you’ll really do it?” you ask. 

“of course. s’nothing i wouldn’t do for you.” he whispers. 

you lean forward, pressing a warm kiss to his lips. 

“i just don’t like that you’re not my husband already. and i get the whole big wedding and clan members and blah blah blah but…i just want to be married to you now. i don’t really care how it happens, i just want that day to be here already.”  

satoru smiles, before leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek. 

“it’s settled then. we’re getting married tomorrow, bug.” he responds, before pushing off of you and shuffling under the sheets. 

you smile hard, following suit by placing your glasses on the nightstand and curling up into his arms. 

“s’bad luck to sleep in the same bed? because that means i’ll see you tomorrow morning?” you ask. 

“maybe. but who's going to keep your feet warm if i don’t sleep next to you?” 

“very good point, satoru gojo.” 

you look back down at the picture, pressing your fingers against the polaroid wrapped in the plastic. the two of you stayed true to your word – a plain but white dress and a simple suit – with your arms wrapped around his neck as you both cheese into the camera. 

you note that glittering necklace around satoru’s neck, as you press your fingers to the chain around yours. you had the necklace when you woke up, the only other jewelry you had besides the golden little band around your ring finger – which you assumed was the wedding ring satoru gave you when you got married. 

“you have one of these too?” you ask. 

satoru smiles, before reaching into his shirt and pulling out the necklace. and surely but not, he has the same necklace as you with the little paper airplane charm hanging at the end. 

“we couldn’t find rings on the way to the courthouse. so you picked these shitty airplane necklaces from one of the stands on the way there.” he states. 

you smile, as you look down at the picture. 

“and we ate with megumi after?” 

“uh huh. he got really mad at us after. you kind of whined that you didn’t get a first dance so i decided to move all the furniture around to make room and kind of broke his science fair project.” 

“oh my god. no wonder that kid hates you.” 

“shut up. we stayed up fixing it. and he doesn’t hate me. he actually danced with us a little bit too – though it was definitely against his will.” satoru adds. 

“you tease him too much. leave the poor baby alone.” you state. 

satoru’s eyes go wide as he places his hands on your shoulder, the look on his face so excited as he smiles. 

“y/n?”

you raise your eyebrows. 

“yeah?” 

his face falls just as fast. 

“oh. nothing.” 

you frown. 

“what happened?” 

“nothing. it’s stupid, i just-” 

“it’s not stupid! what is it?” you ask. 

he looks at you, before pulling back a little. 

“i thought you remembered for a second. that’s always the line you use when i tease him – leave the poor baby alone.” 

you frown. 

“sorry.” you whisper. 

he shrugs. 

“s’okay. it’s kind of nice if you think about it.” he states. 

“how?” 

“well. it’s obvious that big parts of us are shaped by the people that are around us. your best friends, your co-workers, your partners.” 

you reach for his hand. 

“you wonder how much of it is the stuff you experienced that makes you act the way that you do and how much of it is actually you, you know?” he states. 

“exactly! sorry, i didn’t mean to interrupt, but-but i think about that all the time. like if i can’t remember, will i still be the same person i was before? the person you all loved? or if this is going to change me so drastically that i’ll be someone new.”

satoru smiles. 

“the former.” 

“huh?” 

“you’ll be the same person you were before. cheesy as hell, but the cuteness will make up for it.” 

you roll your eyes. 

“how are you so sure?” 

he pauses, before placing his hand in your palm. 

“one of my favorite things about you is that you were, or are, really compassionate. we always joked that megumi was our kid, but really. you were like his mom – understood him in ways i didn’t, always knew what he was thinking and how to fix it too.” he states. 

“yeah?” 

“and one of the things megumi hates most is when i tease him in front of yuuji. s’got a big crush on him.” he states. 

you look over at the two of them, at megumi and yuuji laughing at choso three feet away and try your best to recall every memory of the two of them together. if megumi always smiled so brightly when he was around him.  

“you got real mad at me. told me to leave your poor baby alone. you’ve always cared for him in that way and i can tell that you still do. you might not remember him, but he’s still your baby. you might not remember who you are but you’re still you.” 

it’s silent. 

“you’ll be the same. you’re still going to be the girl i loved and you’re still going to be my wife.” he whispers, warm tears in his eyes. 

his voice wavers on the latter part of the statement. 

almost like he doesn’t believe it. 

you place your hands on his shoulders and squeeze hard. 

“satoru.” you whisper. 

he shakes his head. 

“sorry. i didn’t mean to say it like that, i just-” he states. 

you place your hands on his cheeks and squeeze hard. 

“from the type of guy you are, i can tell that i probably fell in love with you all over again hundred times in one day.” 

satoru smiles, a tear spilling as you quickly wipe the wetness on his cheek. 

“this isn’t any different. i’m not sure about a lot of things, but-but this i am. your eyes are the first thing i remember from when i woke up. i’m almost positive they’ll be the last thing i remember when we’re old wrinkly people too.” you murmur. 

satoru wraps his arms around you, tucking your face into his neck, as he squeezes you hard into his frame. you can feel his heart racing underneath you, his pulse point rapid as he slowly breathes in. and surely, it comes to a standstill. 

“what did i say? told you that you’d still be cheesy as hell.” satoru states. 

you scoff. 

“does the cuteness make up for it?” you ask. 

“a hundred percent.” satoru responds, before pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

satoru takes the picture, after snagging one of the little party hats and securing it on top of your hair, and quickly scribbling on the developed polaroid before tucking it into the book. satoru runs off to the little cake, quickly lighting all the candles as you take the quick second to look down at the picture. 

a very forgetful bug turns twenty-six <;3 

--

“hey, i’m home!” 

satoru shuffles back into the apartment, arms aching and sore from his mission, as he rummages through the kitchen. the fridge is empty leave for a few condiments and he makes a mental note to order takeout. 

“did you want to order something?” he calls out, halfheartedly registering you walking towards him as he shuts the fridge door. 

he’s taken aback when he feels your arms wrap around him from behind, your arms nearly squeezing the breath out of him. 

“ow, bug. you’re hugging too hard.” 

he turns around only to find tearfilled eyes staring back at him, immediately dropping his phone in his hand to cup your cheeks. 

“woah, hey. you okay?” he asks. 

you shake your head, bringing your eyes to your sockets to rub the wetness away. you can barely say the words, the pounding in your head and racing in your chest not coming to the standstill. 

“what’s wrong?” he asks. 

“do-do you remember the first time you cried in front of me?” you ask. 

satoru pulls back, albeit a little bit confused, as he frowns. 

“um. let me try and think. maybe at our real wedding?” he asks. 

“no. no, that’s not right.” you whisper. 

“huh?” 

“you cried for the first time when megumi got hurt when he was out with nobara and yuuji. he didn’t call either of us afterwards and you were sad that maybe he didn’t need you anymore.” you state. 

satoru hums in response. 

“that’s right. i totally forgot. idiot got twenty stitches and didn’t think to tell either of us.” 

you deflate, putting your hands on his shoulders as you squeeze. 

“satoru.” 

“what?” 

“you forgot. but i remembered.” you whisper. 

satoru brings his hands to your sides, squeezing hard as you see his eyes - icy blue - filled with warm tears. 

“y/n. are-are you serious?” he whispers. 

“yeah. s’all kind of fuzzy and i have a really bad headache but i remember you and-” 

you can barely finish your sentence because satoru’s hands – now cupped around your neck – have pulled his face flesh with yours and he’s pressing his lips to yours. it’s enough to shock you to your core, nearly stumbling in his arms, as you feel his tears start to fall onto your face. 

“you’re back. you-you remember me.” he whispers. 

“yeah. yeah, i am. i do.” you whisper, nearly hiccuping from the lack of air reaching your lungs from the tears. 

you rest your forehead against his, the two of you heaving in tandem as satoru runs his hands all over you – on your cheeks, your biceps, the length of your back. 

“i know that it was still you before. and-and i still loved you the same, of course i did – you’re my wife. but you don’t know how fucking happy i am that you’re-” 

“you’re insane, satoru. i can’t believe you…you stayed. and you-” 

“you’re mine. of course i stayed.” 

“i know, but…i didn’t even remember you. and now that i look back on it, sweetheart. you must have been so upset and alone, you…you barely even smiled. or made any shitty jokes. i’m sorry i didn’t notice.” 

“you didn’t have anything to go off of. s’okay.” 

you wrap your arms around his neck, his face tucked into yours as you run your hands in his hair and softly murmur into his ear. you’re not sure when the crying starts, when he starts trembling under you, but you have every intent to keep him in your arms as long as he needs to. 

“satoru, you did so good.” 

“yeah?” 

“so good, sweetheart.” you murmur.

satoru frowns.

“i tried really hard to keep it together for you. i-i didn’t want to make you feel bad or that-” 

“you did keep it together for me. but you can let go now, i’m here to catch you.” 

it’s enough to leave him sobbing in your arms, your quiet whispering in his ears not reaching him. he’s positive that he’s made you say it a hundred times at this point – that you love him – and he’s more than thankful that you’re willing to oblige. 

satoru realizes there’s three stages to it, two weeks after the fact. 

first, it’s the hand being extended to him. it was so quiet that he barely realized it at first – the fact that you were trying to pull him back, the first second that you remembered. warm hands squeezing his frame, the same way they always had. 

second, the realization. the water he was drowning in was so cold that he could barely remember the extent of the warmth and when it returned, it was so sweltering that he could barely remember that he was freezing a few seconds ago. sweet honey eyes – being so full of love that he can see it pouring out of your eyes when you look at him. 

and lastly, being pulled up. it’s warm air tickling his skin this time – the smell of your perfume, cold feet on top of his when he goes to bed, a kiss on the forehead, two little airplane necklaces, matching golden wedding bands. 

satoru gojo finds hope in the simplest of things. in the mere fact that you were looking at him. 

--

an: our very first 1989 song!!! I thought ironically that it would be very funny if I did an amnesia au to out of the woods. and then I accidentally wrote all of it.

taglist: @invisible-mori @porridgesblog  @k0z3me  @kayleegomez  @yihona-san06  @bsenpai  @sweetenertea  @skzismyhome  @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @torureadz @dreamxiing @mamamamamarga

[superhero--imagines]

Bat Boys on Valentines Day

Dick Grayson

* Made reservations a month ago

* Cross-checked the regular menu and seasonal menu to make sure there were things you’d like and conformed to your dietary preferences

* Surprises you with flowers and a big ticket high-fashion item like a Luis Vuitton bag or a pair of shoes

* When he hands it over the shocked look on your face makes him smile.

* You shower him with kisses in a second.

* “I” *kiss* “love” *kiss* “you” *kiss* “so” *kiss* “much!”

* He laughs at the ticklish feeling and kisses you back when it’s over.

* “No, I love you so much.”

Jason Todd

* He hates crowds and decides to make you a nice pleasant meal at home.

* He decided the menu over a month ago, a full four course meal with curated cocktails, wine and ambiance.

* He ‘borrows’ some fine dining dishes from the manor and sets the table up with candles and a bouquet of flowers.

* “Do you like it?” He asks, nervous and afraid—he cooks for himself all the time but cooking for you makes him afraid beyond belief

* What if you don’t like it? What if you have a secret allergy? What if you never want to talk to him again because he didn’t take you out like a traditional date?

* “I love it! The risotto is so good and, are these truffles?”

* Afterwards he gives you some books he knows you want or that you would like and pressed flower bookmarks that he made himself.

* “Jason Todd, you are my entire heart.”

Tim Drake

* He forgets.

* “I thought Valentine’s Day was always on Thursday!” He shrieks, flipping through the phone book for any restaurant that’ll take you.

* “That’s Thanksgiving Tim.”

* But it’s okay—

* “Shit, you think dominos will still deliver today?” You shout from the other side of the room.

* —because you forgot too.

* You have pizza in bed while watching movies and cuddling.

* “This isn’t the worst right?” He asks.

* “Any day with quality time with you is a good day.” You mumble after a yawn, cuddling into his chest as he flushed bright pink.

Duke Thomas

* Classic Dinner and a Movie

* You guys haven’t been dating for long so he doesn’t want to scare you off with anything intense.

* You end up goofing around too long at the arcade connected to the movie theatre and missing your reservation slot.

* You end up getting soft pretzels and sitting by the lake.

* “Honestly, I think this is way better than eating at a French restaurant.”

* He laughs, “any time with you is a good one.”

Damian Waybe

* It’s a three person date — You, Damian, and Titus.

* You go for a walk around the lake, playing with Titus and jokingly splashing each other, and then a picnic on the grassy bluff above.

* “It’s pretty quiet today, huh?”

* “Everyone’s probably at the new french restaurant downtown.” He holds out a dipped strawberry for you which you bite into.

* “The one you can pronounce?”

* You laugh at his frown, pressing a kiss to his cheek, only to laugh again when Titus nudges you with his nose and places his head in your lap with a wagging tag.

* “Of course I didn’t forget you, kisses for Titus too!”

Bonus:

Bruce Wayne

* Wines and dines and sixty-nines you

* He’s probably got a standing reservation at the best restaurant in the city on account of the fact that he’s richer than god

* Gets a private room or balcony that overlooks the city so you have privacy but also the glitz and glam of a night out

* Already called ahead of time and got the chef to make your favorite dinner—just for you

* As a gift he gives you six orgasms in a row a cute little diamond accessory with his initial in gold.

[wrenreid]

Hands-on Learning

synopsis: Spencer Reid’s best friend pays him a visit in DC. She meets his coworkers and they spend quality time together while she’s in town. But their friendly dynamic changes with he asks her a question she was not expecting. (season 2 glasses reid)

word count: 4k

content: 18+ MDNI, oral (f receive), penetration

Spencer has been begging me to come visit him again since the last time I was in D.C. six months ago. And I won't admit it to him, but I've been dying to see him again so much it physically pains me. Going six months without seeing your best friend is the worst feeling in the world, but I'd take the emotional turmoil any day because it's for him.

And I suppose he's worth sitting on this plane, lodged between a sleeping old woman and a man who has gotten up to pee ten times since take off. I must really love him because I'm only an hour into this five hour flight.

Spencer and I met when we were 18. I'd just started my freshman year at CalTech and was in an advanced class with a bunch of 22 year olds. My eye caught his immediately. He was the only person my age in the lecture hall.

I sat next to him and told him my name. I knew I had to make him my friend because he was the only other freshman in the class.

Or so I thought. I didn't know until a month into our friendship that he was indeed not a freshman, and he was taking the class for fun while he worked on his second PhD. A small part of me hated him that instant, but I had already fallen into the Spencer Reid charm. I couldn't get rid of him, no matter how hard I tried (which was not very hard at all.)

We became close pretty fast. Almost every moment we weren't in separate classes, we were together. I was pretty much his only friend and he was the first person I met in uni, and probably the only one to accept me a hundred percent as I was. Being so far from home was hard, and he made it worth it.

Usually we'd do homework or watch scary movies in his single dorm room, which I totally took advantage of. I'd spend the night with him instead of my over-sharing roommate who thought I needed to know every detail about her and her long relationship with her boyfriend Kyle, specifically the phone sex. TMI.

My other friends would joke about how we were in love, but the truth is, we weren't. Not in that way at least. He was my best friend, and I was his. We were there for every big moment in each other's lives.

Well, not every big moment. Spencer was not invited when I finally lost my virginity during spring break of freshman year. But he was there when the guy I'd hooked up with broke my heart. And he bought me ice cream and told me stupid facts until my lips broke into a smile.

I was there when he got his second and third PhDs far quicker than any graduate student should. And he was there when I graduated with my masters in psychology and cognitive science.

"You're a nerd too," Spencer said, his voice teasing as he bumped my shoulder. "You can admit it now that we're done with this place."

I told him to shut up, but a wide grin was plastered on my face. We'd made it through the highs and lows of college together.

However, that grin was soon replaced with tears. Spencer had gotten a job offer with the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. He was going to the academy, and I was starting my research job. He was going to the east coast, and I was staying in California.

"You're leaving me," I said through tears, knowing me guilt tripping him was wrong. But I needed him to stay.

"I'm leaving California, not you," he said, his eyebrows knit together with worry. I could tell it was eating up at him, but I couldn't stop hating the situation. Losing my best friend was the absolute last thing I wanted.

The day he left, I drove him to the Las Vegas airport after he said goodbye to his mom. I didn't help him get his bags, instead I stood there moping. As I watched my best friend walk away, I realized I needed to be happy for him. He was excited about this opportunity, and my bitchiness was ruining that for him.

It wasn't romantic movie-esk the way I ran after him. It was more of an anxiety filled scene where snot ran down my face as I chased him down. Honestly, I probably looked like a stalker.

"Spencer," I breathed out, looking up at him.

He smiled softly. "I knew you wouldn't let me leave without giving me a proper goodbye," he teased.

I shouldn't have taught him teasing and sarcasm. It's bitten me in the ass so many times.

I wrapped my arms around him, ignoring his comment. My face pressed against his chest as his arms held me close. My eyes were closed and I steadied my breathing. Even though he was going what seemed like a million miles away, he'd always be my best friend.

And that's stayed true even three years later. We've kicked this long distance shit in the ass. Of course, we don't talk as much as we'd like, but we still talk. And whenever he can, he visits me in LA after seeing his mom, or I take a visit to the nation's capital just to see my favorite FBI agent.

——

"Every time I see you, you look different," I say with a chuckle as Spencer helps me get my bags into his guest room.

"Is that a bad thing?" He questions, eyebrows furrowed.

"Take it as you will," I say, plopping down on his couch.

He joins me shortly after. He really does look different. He's gained some weight, changed his style up just a little, his hair is parted at the side almost neatly, and he's finally wearing glasses again. Except these ones are far different from the ones he wore in college. These ones are kind of hot, but I won't tell him that because I can't feed the genius's ego any more.

"So," I say, wiggling my eyebrows. "Tell me about your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend," Spencer says, his cheeks already turning pink.

I roll my eyes. "Tomato, tomahto."

"Y/n," he warns.

"Fine, fine. Topic for another time. Don't forget, I'm here all week, Dr. Reid," I flash him a grin.

He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes.

"You know you've missed me," I say, leaning my head on his shoulder.

He shakes his head, but a small smile creeps up onto his lips. He's missed me. But rather than admitting that he asks, "What would you like to do tonight?"

"Food. What's the best restaurant in the city?"

"The best or my favorite?" He asks. "Because they're different."

"Your favorite," I request, a soft smile on my face.

Spencer nods. "Alright. I'll let you nap off the plane drowsiness, then we'll have dinner."

The smile on my face grows wider. He knows me so well.

After my way-longer-than-I-intended nap, we get ready for dinner. I don't dress up fancy because Spencer has seen me at my worst, drunk, crying, and throwing up.

That was the one time I've ever seen him drink. I drug him to a party that we both ended up hating. We left early and instead bought our own liquor. He'd just turned 21, and I used that to my advantage.

Spencer and I ended up drunk in his dorm room. Surprisingly, he handled his alcohol much better than I did. I got wasted and threw up in his sink before making it to his toilet to repeat the action. He held my hair back as tears streamed down my face from the burning in my throat. Then, he threw up from the sight of me vomiting. It was not our finest moment.

"Ready to go?" Spencer asks, coming into the restroom where I'm touching up my makeup.

"Sure am, doc."

The dinner is amazing. He catches me up on all things BAU cases before asking me how my promotion has been, which is, in simple words, pretty damn great.

——

"Oh you're not Spencer," says a way too handsome black man as I open the apartment door.

"Nope. I'd like to think I'm prettier," I joke.

"Yes, you are," he flashes me a smile.

The footsteps behind me halt. "Don't even think about it, Morgan," Spencer says, a warning tone present in his voice.

The man in front of me holds his hands up in defense, the charming smile still on his face.

"This is Morgan? You did not describe him this hot," I turn to my best friend.

He glares at me. "You also don't even think about it."

I laugh softly and offer my hand out to Derek.

"Y/n. Nice to finally meet you."

His firm grip shakes my hand. "So you're the competition I have as Reid's best friend."

"In the flesh," I grin. "And it's no competition. I've got years on you."

"Ooh she's bold. I like her," he says.

I haven't had the opportunity to meet all of Spencer's coworkers because of both of our busy schedules and us making sure to spend every second together while I visit. I've met his boss one time and friend JJ. I liked them. I know enough about everyone from Spencer's stories to know that he's in good hands.

"Did you need something?" Spencer asks his friend.

"Oh right. Yeah I was just going to see if you wanted to come out with us, but I see you are occupied," Morgan says, looking to me.

"Go out where?" I ask, not letting Spencer respond.

"Bar. To drink and play games."

"That sounds fun! We'll be there," I say.

Spencer fake coughs behind me, and I turn to my best friend. He gives me a look.

"C'mon, Spence. It'll be fun. I want to get to know your team."

He can't say no to me. "Fine. But let's not stay out too long, okay? You know you can't handle your alcohol."

"Hey, I've grown up since college," I chuckle.

——

“Have you two ever...?" Spencer's gorgeous dark haired friend asks me as she takes a swig from her glass. She cuts her eyes to Spencer, then back to me.

He's currently at the bar with Morgan who's attempting to flirt with the pretty bartender.

"What? No! God no," I laugh, shaking my head.

"Hm," Emily hums. "I just thought I sensed something."

"Nope. He's my best friend. Why mess with that?" I smile softly.

"So you've thought about it?" She's nosy. I can't blame her, I am too.

"No," I answer.

That's the first lie I've told to Spencer's friends. Of course I've thought about it. I don't think anyone has been friends with an attractive person without thinking about what would happen if the relationship dynamic changed. My best friend's kind of hot. I know that. Before we were close, I debated on asking him out. But we're just friends. We're best friends. And nothing is going to change that.

I get to know Spencer's friends a little more, get slightly tipsy, and start a game of darts with Morgan.

After he beats me, not by much I'd like to add, we're just about to start a rematch, but a hand touches my back lightly. I turn around to face Spencer, and a soft smile creeps up onto my lips.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Can we head back? It's getting late," he asks, checking his watch.

I nod, brushing my hair behind my face. "Sure, but tell Morgan I totally could've beaten him in a rematch."

Spencer laughs softly. "She could've," he says to Derek behind me who rolls his dark brown eyes.

"Getting old, doc?" I ask Spencer as we walk to his car. He's 99% sober, so he drives us back to his apartment.

I sit in the passenger's seat, hands folded in my lap. My eyes are on him.

"Hm?"

"Why'd we leave so early?"

"10:30 is when the guys in the bar start getting drunker and handsy. I didn't want you to get dragged into some asshole's grasp while dancing," he explains.

"Oh," I nod. "I can handle myself, you know that right? Just because you're a big federal agent now doesn't mean I need you to protect me." My voice is thorough, but a small smile is on my lips anyway.

"Just returning the favor, Y/n," Spencer says. He knows I protected him all throughout our shared college days.

My cute going-out clothes have begun to get uncomfortable. I unclasp my bra, keeping my somewhat sexy shirt on and slip it off from underneath the blouse, letting it fall to Spencer's floorboard.

"Much better," I breathe out an exasperated sigh.

He's silent in his seat, eyes on the road. I see his hands grip the steering wheel a little harder.

"I missed you a lot," I say honestly. Usually I'm not one to say what I'm feeling or be mushy gushy, but the two shots of tequila have opened me up.

His eyes flick to me, his lips formed in a soft smile. His face is being lit up by the passing cars' headlights. I can see how sharp his cheekbones are, his jawline.  "I thought you were heartless."

"I take back my previous statement."

"I missed you too," Spencer says.

"Of course you did, I'm a delight," I gloat.

The sound of his soft laughter fills the air. It pulls on the strings in my chest.

"How is it possible that I leave in three days already?"

"Shh," he shakes his head, eyes still on the road ahead of him. "Don't mention that right now." Spencer's hand pats my knee before squeezing it comfortingly.

——

"I have a question," Spencer says, coming into his room where I'm currently laying on his bed, reading a book I grabbed off one of his many shelves.

I look up from the page I'm on. He looks nervous, cheeks red, his hands fiddling with themselves.

"Hit me," I say.

He sits down at the edge of the bed. "I don't really know how to ask this... It's a weird question. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and..."

"Spit it out, Spencer,” I eye him.

"Could you... would you tell me how to please someone. Specifically a woman. During sex."

A huffed laugh releases from me, and his cheeks burn redder. I think I'm blushing too. "What?"

"I'm sorry. That was weird. Forget I said-" he starts softly.

"Have you never...?"

Spencer shakes his head.

I didn't really think he had, but I didn't ever expect him to tell me when or if he lost his virginity anyway. He's reserved, even with me with some things.

"Wait," I sit up straighter. "Is this about your girlfriend?"

"Not my girlfriend," Spencer corrects me. "But yeah. We have a date the night you leave, and I think she's going to expect it. I mean, this is our fourth date."

"Well, if you don't want to have sex, don't have sex," I say sternly.

"It's not that I don't. It's just that I've never done it. I don't know what to do. I've read, and I'm good at anatomy. But what if I'm bad at the physicality of it all?" He presses his lips together, his teeth gnawing on the inside of his bottom lip.

"I don't really know how to explain it," I chuckle nervously. The blood is rushed to my cheeks, they're probably scarlet. "It just kind of happens."

"I shouldn't have asked," Spencer says.

"No, it's just that... like with anything, practice helps people get good sex," I tell him.

He looks up at me, his eyes asking what his lips won't. I feel my heart pounding against my chest, faster than usual.

"Do you want me to... show you?" I ask. He has always preferred hands-on learning.

"Would you?"

I nod slowly, hesitantly.

He moves toward me slowly, hesitantly.

"Kiss me," I tell him, hoping this won't get too weird.

Spencer and I have been best friends for years, we're extremely close, but this may bring us too close. This could ruin everything, but for some reason, I can't stop it.

He presses his lips to mine gently, his hand cupping my face. My eyes flutter closed. I reciprocate the kiss, and it's a lot easier than I imagined. Not that I've entirely imagined it.

My hands trail up his arms slowly. He's gained muscle. I guess that's a part of his FBI agent glow up. His tongue roams my mouth, and I'm pleasantly surprised by how good of a kisser he is.

He pulls away after a few minutes. He's breathing heavy. "Are you sure this is okay?"

I nod, then lean in to kiss him again but he leans back.

"Say it."

"It's okay, Spencer," I tell him. This time he lets me kiss him again.

I lay down, my back against his bed. He hovers above me, his hand on my waist now as he kisses me. He's good at this, and that thought comes to my mind again as his lips suck on my neck.

"Keep doing that," I whine softly.

He obliges and nibbles my skin gently. "Is this okay?" He whispers.

"Mhm," I noise.

I let him take the lead for now, do what he's comfortable with so far. His hand trails up a little further. I tell him he can touch me, and he does, though hesitantly at first. His fingertips graze against my breast before he finally gets comfortable enough to take hold of it through my shirt. He squeezes then pinches my nipple. He knows more than he lead on.

A soft moan releases from my mouth, my back arches just a little. His hand slips beneath my shirt, his warm touch on my belly. Spencer takes ahold of my shirt then lifts it up. I help him take it off me. I'm completely bare hips and above since I wasn't wearing a bra anyway. His eyes widen a little, and he smiles softly.

"Stop staring at me," I laugh a little.

"We're about to have sex and I can't look at you?"

I roll my eyes. "Let's just continue."

Spencer nods. "What do you want me to do?”

"Well, most women like to do other stuff before actually getting into the sex. Penetration alone doesn't do it for most of us," I tell him.

"You included?"

"Me included."

"What do you like?" He asks.

"What are you comfortable with? Do you have any ideas?"

Spencer thinks for a moment. "I want to learn how to-I want to give you... oral."

I burst into a laugh. "Spence, never say oral to a woman. Just say head."

"Head. Noted," he nods.

He's adorable when he's nervous and nerdy. Which is pretty much always.

"Kiss me first. Anywhere," I tell him.

He chooses the soft flesh of my stomach. I smile down at him. I reach down, pushing down my shorts, my underwear too. I'm growing needy.

Spencer slips them the rest of the way down and tosses them down to the ground. After slipping off his glasses, he kisses the inside of my thigh. God, I need him to do something right now.

His big hands push my thighs apart. Then he pauses. The clocks in his brain turn.

I feel like he's just about to call this whole thing off, but then I'm hit with a shock of pleasure. His tongue licks in between my folds.

“You’re really wet,” he says, more like an observation that a tease. Then he attacks my clit with his lips after taking a second to find it. Fuck. He definitely knows more about sex than I was led to believe.

Spencer's fingers leave marks on the inside of my thighs as he grips onto them. His lips suck on my clit, tongue flicking back and forth often too.

Soft moans spill from my lips. I'm trying to be quiet. I shouldn't be enjoying this as much as I am.

The sudden shock of Spencer's mouth removing from my clit makes me whine in protest, but his fingers sliding inside me make up for it.

I groan, my head leaning back into the pillows.

“Do you like this?”

I bite my lip, “Mhm. Curl your fingers.”

He does as he’s told.

When Spencer both fingers my cunt and sucks on my clit, I'm a moaning mess. "Holy fuck, Spencer," I whine. My legs are shaking within minutes, and even though he's still sloppy and new at this, my body loves it. My hands grip into his hair.

"Just like that, Spencer. So good."

A loud moan rings out from me as I finish. I couldn't even warn Spencer before my release pours from me.

My breaths are heavy and loud. Spencer pulls away, looking up at my eyes.

"Was that okay?" His breathing is heavy too.

"No," I say. "Spencer that was fucking amazing. You've seriously never done that before?"

He shakes his head.

"Wow."

"Told you, I'm good at anatomy," he smiles bashfully.

"Take your pants off," I command. "I want you inside of me."

I find a condom in my purse as he shrugs his clothes off. I sit up and find myself staring at his bulge with wide eyes. He's bigger than I expected. Not like huge to where it's unnatural, but big enough that I will probably need a minute to adjust once he's in me.

I tell him to lay down, and he does. He's a good boy. I like it.

I help him get the condom on, then swing a leg over his lap so that I'm straddling him. "Are you ready?" I ask him, my hand holding his face gently.

He takes a second, processing that he’s about to lose his virginity. Probably freaking out a lottle that it’s to me. “Yes ma'am," Spencer nods.

"Just a gentlemen," I grin.

I lower myself onto him, and once he's inside me, I do need a minute to adjust. Moans come from both of us, and I love the sounds we make together.

"Fuck," he groans, his voice raspy. He repeats my name over and over as I start to roll my hips.

"Oh my god." My eyes shut, and I bite my lip to keep me quiet.

"Don't do that," Spencer tells me. "I want to hear it."

I give him what he wants. I bounce up and down on him, his length hitting me in the right spot every time.

Both of our sounds fill the room. Spencer holds my hips down, stopping me.

"Wha-?"

"I want to do it," he says softly. "Please."

"Do what you want with me, doctor," I tell him, nodding.

He flips our positions, and he's on top of me. Spencer's lips crash into mine as he enters me again.

I bite his lip, causing both of us to moan into each other's mouths.

Spencer doesn't last much longer since it's his first time, but I don't even mind. He rubs my clit until I come again, and I feel I'm floating.

We lay on his bed, heavy breaths morphing together. "I think you're going to blow her mind, doctor Reid," I chuckle softly.

"Who's?"

"You're girlfriend that's not your girlfriend," I say, eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, right. I don't think I'm going on that date. Okay, actually I canceled that date when you got here."

"What?" I chuckle, confused.

"There's no date,” he says, point blank.

"Did you just trick me into sleeping with you?" My eyebrows are still furrowed, but I'm smiling.

He presses his lips together. "Well, if you put it that way... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"No, no. I admire the hustle, doc," I laugh softly, my fingertips circling on his bare chest.

Men and women can be purely platonic friends, no romantic feelings involved. But maybe Spencer and I aren’t that type of friends after all.

tags: @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @kylakins88 @jazzerbelle14 @cynbx @yazzyu @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @sebs-oxygen @jolotta @booktvmoviefangirl @nevielei @pauline5525mgg @necromaniackat @r3idsp3ncer