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andvys · 7 months

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter five ⭐︎ 'Cause you know it could never be

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of the upside down, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of Stancy (I guess), but none really

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Weeks had passed since your conversation with Steve, and things between you have shifted into a different direction...

Word count: 8k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult shoutout to my bestieeee, thank you for helping me and for keeping me in check, I love u

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♡

As the weeks passed, the warmth slowly started to surround Hawkins. The flowers have all bloomed, the sun is blessing the town with light and it’s something you greatly appreciate, knowing that things could’ve been so different had victory not been the outcome weeks back.

The day Steve had come by to apologize and talk, things had started to change between the two of you. While you tried to avoid him at all costs, fearing more confrontations and arguments, Steve had done everything to show you that he really wanted to keep the peace between you both.

You felt awkward around him for the first few days after your conversation, especially because it felt like he was walking on eggshells when he was around you, he bit his tongue whenever you tried to throw a jab at him, he looked at you differently, he was careful with his words and it annoyed you to no end. You never wanted him to feel like he had to be nice to you after what happened. Luckily, he couldn’t keep his act up for long, the moment you said something that was enough to set him off, you went back to your usual banters – though, it didn’t feel as rough as it did before.

You were also dragged into everything involving the whole group. It’s something you would have hated if it wasn’t for Eddie who somehow had nestled his way into your life and reached for the title ‘best friend’ before you could even blink. Despite the fear that still lingered deep inside of you, you let him in and you are glad that you did so. You really needed a friend.

But you are not the only one who grew close to Eddie in the past few weeks, Steve has also taken a great liking to him, and you now see more of him than ever before, because now it isn’t only the weekly movie or game nights that you spend time with him, it’s also Tuesday nights at the hideout, Wednesday nights at the movies, Sunday mornings at the diner and… you don’t mind for a single second.

You used to watch him from afar, now he is everywhere you go and while the relationship you two have isn’t exactly friendly, you still appreciate it. You’ll take anything you can get when it comes to him.

You eye Eddie through the vanity mirror, watching as he lounges on your bed, flipping through some old magazine he had found on your shelf. His curls are wild on his head, a little tamer than usual though, a few new rings adorn his fingers as well as the new shirt that doesn’t exactly fit the occasion.

“Eddie, you could have at least put a nice shirt on! A black one! Without a stupid band logo at the front!”

“Stupid?” He gasps as he sits up, staring at you, looking very offended, “let me remind you, Sweetheart. None of them are stupid, they are meaningful and artistic.”

Max scoffs at him, trying not to shake her head as you’re still using the hot curling iron on her hair.

“Right, because the music video of that Samuel made absolutely fucking sense.”

He drops the magazine and jumps up from the bed, his jaw dropping at her words.

“You mean Samson!?” He almost yells, “Biceps of Steel is a masterpiece, Red!”

You and Max share a look of amusement through the mirror, scoffing simultaneously.

“Yeah, you made me watch that video like four times,” she rolls her eyes at him.

Eddie squints his eyes at her, continuing his ramble while you smile at their bantering.

Not only did you and Eddie grow closer, he and Max did too. Eddie’s new home is close to Max’s, just like back in the trailer park. And the teen just loves to bother Eddie and Uncle Wayne, more so Eddie in the early morning hours, knowing how grumpy he will get. She still snaps at him and judges his ‘poor’ taste in movies and music but he only judges back, though playfully. They behave like siblings and you never get bored watching their banters.

Eddie is the brother Max deserved to have.

“Bla bla bla,” she rolls her eyes at him, sighing in relief when you finish up with the final touches.

“Who taught you to be so rude, Red?” Eddie shakes his head in disapproval.

Max only laughs in response, she leans closer to the mirror and turns her head to the side as she touches her curls. Her eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you smile as you put the curling iron on your vanity.

Max gets up from the chair, she walks out of the room and into the hallway, still limping a little but the cast on her leg is already gone.

“I’ll call Lucas and see if he’s ready,” she says as she walks down the stairs.

You turn to face Eddie, who is staring at the dress you are wearing, like he only noticed it now. The playful smile on his face is now gone, replaced by a teasing one.

“Got all pretty for someone?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You tilt your head and squint your eyes, “it was a formal invitation, Eddie! You just didn’t get the memo.” You point to his band shirt before you turn away from him and sit down on the chair, picking up your lipstick that you haven’t applied yet.

Eddie rolls his eyes at your words, walking closer to you, he leans down and puts his hands on his knees, staring at you through the mirror.

“Darling, apple of my eye, sweetheart, long lost soulmate… I am not buying shit.”

You keep staring at your lips, careful not to go over the lines as you apply the rosy tone to them, only when you’re done and you put the lipstick in the bag you had picked out earlier, you look up at him with a sigh.

“It’s the same as always, Eddie.”

“Is it?” He tilts his head, still looking at you with that same teasing smile. “Cause while you do wear all these trendsetter outfits, I never saw you wear a dress this… fancy.”

“Trendsetter outfits?” You laugh, furrowing your brows at him. “And fancy? It’s just a black dress!”

He raises his brows, stepping away as he looks down at the silky fabric on your form.

“A little black dress.”

“Well, look who’s the trendsetter now!” You snort.

He walks back to your bed, picking up the fashion magazine that has a little black dress on the cover. He raises it up, showing it to you, “Vogue taught me.”

Shaking your head, you look back at your reflection and add the final touches to your hair, before you apply your favorite perfume. You get up and smoothe down your dress, it’s beautiful and you have been dying for a chance to wear it. But your stomach suddenly fills with doubt because of his reaction. Are you overdressed? No… right? It’s truly nothing special. It’s just a dress, a little black and silky dress, nothing fancy about it.

Besides, Joyce invited you all to a formal dinner, after all. You can’t show up in jeans and a t-shirt, even Max put on a skirt today and that girl hates dresses and skirts with a passion.

But maybe Eddie was right, maybe… you did think of a certain someone when you bought this dress, and maybe you do feel your insides tingling at the thought of seeing him again tonight, maybe you did get pretty for him – even when you know that he will have eyes for somebody else all night. That thought makes you want to stay at home and hide from the world but you can’t back out now, you couldn’t even decline the invitation you got from Joyce herself when you ran into her at the coffee shop two weeks ago.

She is one of the few people in this godforsaken town that you have always liked. Finding out that she is now dating Jim Hopper – the very alive Jim Hopper, wasn’t exactly a surprise to you. You heard all the rumors about them, even before you were dragged into the mess your new friends had been in for the past few years. – The bored middle aged women who met up at the coffee shop every Wednesday afternoon just loved to talk about all the existent and non-existent relationships in this town and well, you loved to hear about all the gossip too, though you always acted like you were immersed in the books you had brought, you really never read a single line whenever they were providing each other new drama.

On the drive to the Byers/Hopper house, you picked up Lucas before you made a quick stop at the store to buy a cake, none of you wanted to show up with empty hands and you didn’t know what else to get – besides the little bouquet of flowers that Lucas got for Joyce.

As you look out the window, watching the passing trees, you listen to Eddie’s conversation with Lucas.

“You ever wonder how Hopper explained his return from the dead?” Eddie asks as he plays with his sunglasses, “cause I’m really curious.”

“I am too,” Lucas says from the backseat.

“Do you think he went with the kidnapping story?” Eddie asks, his sunglasses low on his nose as he glances at you. “Imagine he told Chief Powell and Deputy Dumbass about the upside down.”

“Don’t say that too loud, Eds. Or the suit wearing dicks will come back to take all our hush money back,” you snort. “And then you’ll lose your fancy house and your fancy Barbecue grill.”

He waves his hand at you, “I’ll take my fancy Barbecue grill and move in with you. I’ll still have a fancy house, rich girl.”

You snort.

“Oh, can I move in then too?” Lucas asks, grinning at you. “You always got the best snacks,” he points to the store bought cake on your lap.

“Eddie and I chose the cake together,” you chuckle.

“Well, duh, we’d make great roommates, sweets,” Eddie winks at you. “Same taste in food – but you still need to up your music taste.”

You scoff.

“Honestly, I think a girls only place would be so much cooler,” Max says to him, “just peace all the time, no boys, no stinky clothes lying around… just pure girls heaven.”

Lucas frowns at her, tilting his head, “you say that to your boyfriend?”

Eddie snorts at the offended tone in Lucas’s voice, while you shake your head in amusement.

The burgundy BMW is already in the driveway when Eddie pulls up, he parks his car behind Steve’s. You inwardly curse at yourself for feeling a rush of something just from looking at his car. You tear your eyes away from it and take in the beautiful sight in front of you, instead.

The light blue house has a big porch, flowers on the grass in front of it, a big willow tree on the right side – it’s so pretty and this neighborhood is a quiet one, it’s perfect.

Lucas rings the doorbell, waiting patiently with the flowers in his hands that Max keeps teasing him about, giggling and making jabs at him until he finally gets fed up. He picks out one of the daisies and turns around to face his girlfriend, he brushes her hair back and tucks the little flower behind her hair, which shuts her up immediately, her eyes widen and she starts blushing furiously.

You press your lips together, so you don’t burst into giggles at the look on her face.

Lucas sighs in contentment when she grows silent, he turns back to the door.

Eddie though, he starts chuckling.

Max clenches her jaw, she sends Eddie the deadliest glare you have ever seen. It only makes you want to laugh even more.

The door opens and you’re all greeted by a very happy El, a bright smile on her lips as she waves at you.

“Hi guys, come in!” She reaches forward to Max, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the house, “I need to tell you something.”

The two girls scurry away and up the stairs, leaving the three of you standing on the porch.

Lucas shakes his head, sighing, “you know, I wouldn’t be surprised if Max left me to be with El.”

Eddie throws his arm around Lucas’s shoulder as they both step inside the house, “every girl has a girlfriend, just deal with it, Sinclair.”

“What?” You laugh, following them,“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, it’ll happen magically, Sweetheart. Once you have a boyfriend, you’ll also find a girlfriend.”

“That literally makes no sense.”

“Oh,” Lucas smirks, looking over his shoulder at you, “he means, once you and Steve stop acting like you hate each other and you’ll fall in love and get together, you won’t only have a boyfriend, you will also have a girlfriend which is his best friend,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes and ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the word ‘boyfriend’. Steve will never be your boyfriend, he won’t even be anything close to it. Hell, he is barely even a friend. He is your frenemy.

You open your mouth to speak when Joyce walks out into the hallway, smiling at the three of you before a gasp falls from her lips when Lucas hands her the flowers.

“Oh, you’re such a sweetheart, Lucas,” she smiles down at the flowers.

You feel a little out of place, being new to this group, being in a tight friend group for the first time in your life feels nerve wracking. And while you aren’t the only one, Eddie is definitely way more sociable and open than you are, where you struggle to make conversations, he rambles on just about anything.

But Joyce makes you feel welcome, she greets you with a warm smile, placing her hand on your arm.

“We got you your favorite,” Eddie grins at her, taking the cake from your hands so you can greet her properly.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have! You’re all so kind,” she smiles at the both of you, “come on, I’ll put it in the fridge for now. You guys go ahead, Jonathan and Nancy are in the backyard with Hop, the kids are in the living room.”

When you step inside, you notice the smell of food from the kitchen and the dining room, the sound of music playing from the stereo – Joy Division. You know right away that Jonathan was the one who put on the music.

You greet Mike, Will and Dustin who are in a heated conversation about something D&D related.

Robin walks into the living room, her blue eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face.

You eye her up and down, she’s wearing black dress pants, suspenders over her red blouse. Your lips curl into a smirk when your eyes meet hers. She opens her arms for you and you hug her, leaning closer to her ear, “if I was into girls, I’d be on the floor for you right now, Buckley,” you joke, suggestively.

She gasps and slaps your arm lightly, “naughty.”

A giggle falls from your lips when you pull away from the hug, “it’s the truth, you look hot in this outfit.”

She shakes her head, biting her lip as she tries to hide the blush on her cheeks.

“You’re one to talk,” she whispers, smirking when she takes a look at your dress, “how did Munson not crash the car?”

Your lips part in shock, and you look down, “i-is that too revealing?” You whisper, tugging at your dress.

She starts chuckling, “no, I just mean because you’re so gorgeous,” she winks. “I know I’d crash the car, I’d be too busy staring at you.”

“Oh my god,” you swat her arm this time, “Eddie and I are not attracted to each other.” And you’re certainly not lying about that.

“Robin, I see her the same way you see Steve,” Eddie suddenly says from behind you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Difference? I’m heterosexual,” he whispers to her before he looks at you, “no offense, it’s not that you’re not hot, it’s just that you’re a little gremlin to me already.”

Your eyes flash with amusement and you put your hand on your chest, “I will take offense to that actually.”

Your stomach flutters when your eyes fall on the figure in the kitchen.

“Sucks to be you then,” he chuckles, “anyways, how’s Vickie doing?” He wiggles his brows at Robin.

You don’t even hear Eddie’s words, you’re already too far gone, staring at the one you had your eyes set on since forever. You don’t know how he always does it, but he looks so gorgeous. His fluffy hair looking better than ever, a smile lingering on his face as he talks to Joyce.

His white shirt is tucked into his dark brown slacks that he paired with a black belt. He looks like he walked straight out of a 60s movie and god, he looks really good. He turns his back to you, and you watch as Joyce leaves the kitchen, walking out into the backyard.

You don’t feel your feet moving, but you feel yourself being pulled into the kitchen, still admiring Steve – his broad shoulders, the way his muscles are moving underneath the shirt.

You are practically drooling over the guy, and you feel shame but not enough to stop yourself from ogling him, maybe you’d feel a bit more ashamed if things between you haven’t shifted into something else, you still get on each other’s nerves, the bickering is still there, poking into each other's ribs to see who bends first, but all that is never too much or hurtful. The scowls are there, they never left, the scrunches of noses, the deadly glares. But you noticed that the bickering had gone from yelling to soft talking. Enough for just the two of you to hear, no one else.

It’s all still the same… but it also isn’t.

And you can’t help but love it.

Steve is cutting vegetables and throwing them into the bowl. Your heart flutters as you take another moment to look at him. While the others are chatting in the living room and in the garden, Steve is helping Joyce prepare dinner. Cute.

You lick your lips, moving closer to him, you brush your hand over his shoulder as you walk past him, not even realizing how soft your touch actually was.

Steve tenses up, not because he doesn’t like your touch – but because he does. He likes it, even if he would never admit it. He recognizes you by the sweet and flowery scent of your perfume, something that makes his insides tingle in an unfamiliar way.

“Hey, Lego head,” you greet him, leaning against the counter next to him, “nice mousse on the hair.”

A smirk tugs at his lips, he puts down the knife as he opens his mouth to speak, though when he turns to look at you, his breathing stutters, his heart stops beating and his eyes widen as the smirk slowly falls – instead, his cheeks heat up and he presses his lips back together, gulping as he takes in the sight of you in your beautiful dress. It’s not any different from the sundresses that you’ve been wearing a lot lately, but it would be enough to make him stutter if he tried to talk right now, because somehow, you look even more beautiful, right now.

You turn away from him, looking around at the food he had already helped prepare, giving him the perfect opportunity to ogle you. It’s a good thing he stopped cutting the fruit, and put the knife down before he saw you, he surely would’ve chopped a finger off by now, and he’s not sure if he would have noticed because, all that he is focused on is how pretty you look, with your glowy, smooth skin and the makeup that you don’t even need, the dress that almost has him on his knees.

But he gets dragged back into reality when your eyes meet his and he remembers who you aren’t supposed to be – a girl who effortlessly manages to make him blush. No one has ever made Steve Harrington blush, absolutely no one, and he surely won’t let you be the first.

“Blondie.”

“Do you think they’ll let us drink?” You ask, looking around as you try to spot anything but soda.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head.

“Are you twenty one yet? No. What makes you think that Hopper will let us drink?” He picks up the knife again, forcing his eyes away from you.

“We fought monsters and had near death experiences multiple times,” you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, “will alcohol hurt us?”

“No, but it might turn you into an alcoholic, better not start with that, kid.” Hopper suddenly appears from behind, causing you to flinch.

Steve watches from the side, laughing at the wide eyed look on your face.

You turn to face the older man, scrunching up your nose when your eyes instantly fall on the beer in his hand, “oh, really? What’s that in your hand then, alcoholic?” You mock him.

Hopper shakes his head, chuckling.

“So that’s where El’s attitude has been coming from lately.”

“Told you, miss sunshine over here is a bad influence,” Steve jokes.

“Don’t know which attitude you’re talking about, I don’t have one.”

At that, both Steve and Hopper burst out laughing, the latter squeezes your shoulder as he walks past you, “you keep telling yourself that, kid.”

“Well, aren’t we celebrating something today?” You ask.

Hopper opens the fridge, taking out another beer after throwing the empty can into the trash. He looks at you with raised brows, a smile tugging at his lips.

None of you know what this celebration even is about, that you all got invited to – except for El, Jonathan and Will, of course. They know all about it.

“Yeah.”

“So… can’t celebrate without the drinks,” you shrug, giving him a sheepish smile.

You’re unaware of the smile on Steve’s lips as he watches you.

“You’re nineteen, wait two more years–”

“We fought interdimensional monsters, this one almost got strangled to death,” you point at Steve, “not to mention all the times he got his ass kicked–”

“You didn’t need to go there, Blondie,” he rolls his eyes.

“I almost died! A girl can have a drink, come on!”

Hopper sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks between the two of you.

You are desperate for a drink, it’s been months since you had any alcohol in your system, and you’re craving the buzz, feeling careless and free. All you felt after the night at the Creel house was pain… and more pain. Your head was constantly hurting, your vision blurred every time you got up, the dizziness drove you crazy – it’s still there sometimes, but you feel better now, much better, good enough to have drinks again.

But the stubborn man won’t let you have it and you can already tell by the look on his face that he will say no. So, you pull out the big guns.

You smirk at him, tilting your head.

“My dad told me what you used to get up to in high school.”

He holds his hands up, squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance.

“Didn’t you and Joyce used to smoke pot behind–”

Steve’s eyes widen as his lips part in surprise.

“Get this demon a drink, Steve.” He waves his hand and quickly leaves the room, sending you another warning glance over his shoulder.

“Why me…” Steve mutters.

“Cause you’re maid material, chop chop, Harrington.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes again.

“Oh hey Hop, long time no see.” You hear Eddie’s voice in the living room, followed by Hopper’s groan.

If you weren’t so fixated on Steve right now, you’d be watching Eddie’s and Hopper’s interaction, right now. It’s never not amusing.

“You sure you want me to make you a drink?” He steps away from the counter and bends down to open the cabinet he saw Hopper putting the whiskey into earlier, he looks through the few bottles and reaches for the rum.

You watch the way he furrows his brows, licking his lips as stares at the bottle. He straightens his back and steps up beside you again.

“Well, didn’t you used to throw parties and mix cocktails?” You shrug, tilting your head to the side.

Steve watches you, the way your flashes flutter as you blink, the way you look at him so innocently, something that makes him feel… intrigued.

“I never got to taste it,” you pout.

He swallows harshly.

“I’m craving something sweet on my lips right now, so please… Can you make me a drink?” You ask with a sickly sweet tone in your voice, not intending these words to sound so… suggestive and you don’t even notice it either.

But he does, and he almost drops the bottle he is holding. Your flirty words make his eyes widen and his stomach flutters. It’s not the first time something like this happened, you threw suggestive words or glances at him before but all this time he was certain that you did this unintended – even now, because the look on your face is innocent, genuinely innocent.

You aren’t teasing, you aren’t even aware of how flirty you can be sometimes.

He turns away from you, walking over to the fridge, he grabs the pineapple juice and puts it on the counter next to the bottle of rum.

He looks up at the shelf, where all the long drink glasses are. How convenient it is that you’re standing right in front of it.

While you do everything unintended, he doesn’t. He knows what he is doing when he steps towards you. He looks down at you with that same innocent look that you just gave him, the only difference is that he isn’t innocent. He places his hand on your waist, testing the waters. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, squeezing your waist ever so softly. He reaches over your shoulder as he grabs the glass, he keeps his eyes on you, biting back the smirk when he sees the way your eyes widen and you visibly gulp.

Your lips part and you start blinking, looking up at him before your eyes fall to his chest and you squirm beneath his stare.

Got you. He thinks.

You stop breathing and your heart freaking jumps in your chest, his innocent touch is almost enough to make your knees buckle.

Despite the nervousness, you look into his eyes, watching the way they twinkle with mischief. Bastard. Is he doing this on purpose? Because he somehow knows that every slightest touch from him drives you crazy?

He takes way too long to get that stupid glass from the shelf but fuck, you can’t help but love the way his big hand feels on your body, or the way he is almost pressed against you, the way the smell of his cologne makes your stomach flutter.

And then, he steps away like nothing happened.

Because it was nothing… to him.

Even when there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips as he prepares the drink, you know that this was only because he wanted to get a reaction out of you.

“Here,” he slides the drink over to you, still smirking, “try it.”

You wrap your hand around the cold glass and take the straw between your fingers, stirring the ice around, furrowing your brows, “what’s this called?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, “the King Steve special,” he winks.

You scrunch your face up at him.

Wrapping your lips around the straw, you look into his eyes as you try it, the sweetness from the pineapple juice definitely overpowers the taste of rum, and you don’t know if you like it or not.

Steve ignores the way his stomach tingles from watching you – watching your glossy lips as they’re wrapped around the black straw.

“Jesus, that really is a high school drink, King Steve.”

He squints his eyes at you, “it’s a fucking drink, Blondie.”

“A horrible one at that.”

He places his hand on his hip, rolling his eyes at your words, but a smirk tugs at his lips and he suddenly leans closer to you to whisper in your ear.

“You really fooled me with that dress of yours… if only you kept your mouth shut.”

He wants to stay and keep staring at the shocked look on your face, at the way you grow so flustered beneath his stare. The smirk that lingers on his lips grows even wider when he sees the way your lips part but close again.

He left you speechless.

He reaches for the bowl of salad, “gonna bring this out,” he says, tilting his head into the direction of the garden, “they set up the table outside.”

You don’t even hear his words, you just stare at his lips before your eyes fall on the chain around his neck. You swallow and look down, hiding your flustered face as you take another sip of the drink.

Steve holds back the chuckle, he turns away begrudgingly and walks out, he would’ve loved to see more of that look on your face.

It takes you a moment to recover from whatever that was, you nearly down the King Steve Special in one go. And maybe preparing yourself a second drink is a mistake, knowing that you will probably feel more than just a slight buzz, you only had breakfast and you skipped lunch because you were too busy getting ready and stressing over your hair that never looks nearly as perfect as Steve’s does.

You step out into the backyard, the table on the porch is already filled with food and drinks, the smell of the Barbecue lingering in the air. Jonathan is standing in front of the grill with Nancy by his side, her chin on his shoulder, her arm wrapped around his waist, they’re talking and smiling at each other.

As you watch them, the sudden realization that you will never have anything like they do, fills you with a slight sadness.

You don’t envy them, you’re happy for them, you’re happy for anyone who gets to experience love. But maybe, you envy the love someone else still holds for her, someone you will never have.

You look down, frowning at your drink.

The teens all stumble out into the backyard as Joyce ushers them to the table.

You flinch a little when you suddenly feel an arm around your shoulder, instantly recognizing Eddie’s cologne, you turn your head to look at him.

“This could be us if you weren’t such a gremlin,” he says as he points to Jonathan and Nancy who are now kissing, in front of the sizzling meat that is probably now burning.

You squint your eyes, shaking your head disapprovingly.

You know he’s only joking, and it fills you with relief, because as much as you crave what they have, you definitely don’t crave it with Eddie. You crave to have this with Steve, and it’s something you feel stupid for. The guy may not hate your guts anymore, but he’s surely not your biggest fan either.

“You know, you’re a gremlin too, Eds.”

“That’s why we’re best friends,” he chuckles, patting your shoulder as he looks down at the drink in your hand, “what’s that?”

“King Steve Special,” you snort, offering it to him, “well, this one was made by me.”

“Can I try?”

You hand it to him, and his curious eyes widen when he takes a sip, “wow, that is uh–”

“Too sweet?”

He shakes his head at you, curls bouncing, “nah, it’s perfect.”

“Well, you can have it, I might get drunk if I finish that.”

“Already!?” He scoffs, shaking his head at you, “lightweight.”

"Uh, excuse me? I haven’t had any drinks in months, Eddie. Months.”

“Well, I haven’t had any in weeks, I’m still standing.”

“You only took one sip!”

He takes another sip and grins at you, holding up two fingers.

“Two sips.”

You can’t even help but laugh, slapping his shoulder lightly, “you are so–”

“Funny? Handsome? Perfect?”

“Too cocky?” Lucas says behind Eddie, grinning at him.

“Me and cocky?” Eddie raises his brows, “never.”

“Oh no, that kid is right, boy. You’re cocky,” Hopper sighs, “trust me.”

“Well, I am also very fast, Chief,” he smirks, winking at the older man, “but you already know that.”

Hopper’s amused face grows serious, a hardened look takes over and he grumbles something under his breath as he stares at Eddie. You can’t even help but giggle. – A sound that doesn’t go unheard by Steve who just sat down across from Robin, not even hiding the fact that he no longer listens to her rambling about some movie she watched with Vickie last night. All he can do, all he can see, all he can hear right now is you, just you.

The sound of your giggles is not something he is used to – he is used to your grumbling, to your sarcastic chuckles and the smirks on your face. A giggle? A very unusual sound to hear but something that he’s been hearing quite often lately. If your friendship with Eddie wasn’t so obvious, he might’ve thought that you took a liking towards him, but it’s clear that your friendship with him is just like his with Robin; Platonic with a capital P.

He can’t help but smile as he watches you, not because he likes you, god no. He just likes watching you. You are pretty, gorgeous even. He always knew that, even through his dislike, he always saw your beauty – he isn’t blind. And seeing you like this makes his chest feel… warm.

He eyes your dress again, the lace on the straps lay so prettily on your shoulders, the silky material fitting your upper body so perfectly, it’s loose on your hips, and it’s short, not too short but enough to make him gulp.

The chair scrapes against the floor, but even that sound doesn’t tear his attention away from you.

Nancy steps up beside you, exchanging a few words with you and Eddie before she turns her head into Steve’s direction, she lifts her hand and points at him, something that instantly makes Steve tense up, because not only did Eddie catch him staring at you, you did too.

With his cheeks blushing red, he clears his throat and turns back to Robin who is now rambling Dustin’s ear off. He places his elbow on the armrest, running his fingers through his hair nervously.

What is wrong with him? Since when does he spend time staring at you? Since when does he blush because of you?

“Here you can sit next to your favorite person, gremlin.”

He doesn’t know who he expected to sit down beside him, but he surely didn’t think it’d be you. He goes to lift his head when you pull back the chair. Just as he’s about to glance at you, he suddenly feels your hand on his knee and hears your groan as you stumble forward a little.

“Almost broke my ankle, for fucks sake. I’m sorry, Lego head,” you mumble, inwardly cursing at yourself for tripping over the stupid leg chair and using him to steady yourself. You remove your hand when you finally sit down, turning away from him to hide the flustered look on your face.

He blinks, swallowing the lump in his throat, he plasters a smirk on his face, “are you drunk from that one drink, Blondie?” He chuckles, watching the way you roll your eyes at his question.

You feel a slight buzz, but you’re not sure whether it’s because of the alcohol or his ‘flirty’ comment that certainly had no meaning.

Steve loves to flirt and he does it every chance he gets but he definitely wouldn’t flirt with you, no matter how desperate he’d be, you’d never be good enough for Steve Harrington.

When everyone is finally seated and the rest of the food is now on the table, Hopper is standing up with a drink in his hand, waiting for the teen boys to stop talking so he can finally open his mouth to speak. He tries to be patient, he really tries.

Joyce looks down in amusement.

Jonathan waves at Dustin, trying to shut him up, but the boy doesn’t see, too focused on the conversation with Mike.

“Mike,” El whispers, nudging him with her elbow.

He looks away from Dustin, and turns to look at his girlfriend when his eyes find Hopper glaring at him with that very intimidating look on his face.

His face grows pale and he slowly leans back in his seat, punching Dustin in the arm to shut up.

Hopper clears his throat, he puts his hand on the back of his neck, squinting his eyes a little. It’s silent now, except for the faint music that still plays in the living room. His throat bobbed as he looked around the table.

You can tell that he struggles to find his words, by the note that sticks out of the pocket in his flannel, you can tell that he had already prepared a speech.

Joyce gives him an encouraging nod as she reaches for his hand.

“I uh– I just, I thought that it would be a great idea for us all to sit down and uh… chat. I’m not good at all of this so I’ll just jump straight into it,” he starts, chuckling at his own words, before seriousness takes over his features again, “you kids went through a lot, you went through too much, every single one of you. But you were all so brave, you stuck together and defeated that… son of a bitch.”

Giggles erupt around him and his lip twitches a little.

“We defeated him,” El says, smiling at her dad, “we defeated that son of a bitch, “together.”

“Language, kid,” Hopper chuckles but he shakes his head at her, “but yeah, together.”

“The past few years haven’t been easy for any of you,” he continues, looking at all the young teens, at his daughter, at Jonathan and Nancy but also at Robin and Steve, and then he looks between you and Eddie too. “You all lost something or someone, you shouldn’t know what it’s like but uh, I guess in all of this chaos, you all found each other and I-I think that’s, that’s something, that means a lot.”

You can tell that he is struggling to say these words out loud, you hear the shakiness in his voice, the way he is holding himself together, the way he is speaking so softly because of how emotional he is after he spent the past few years in darkness after losing people he loved.

El and Joyce stepped into his life and so much chaos followed when he was dragged into a mess he had only seen in movies before, but it also brought him so much light and happiness again.

Just like it did for you and you wouldn’t change a thing about it.

If you had to go back and relive all the awful things you had to endure those few weeks back, you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. Because, despite the horrors and the darkness you had been pulled into, you have found friends, a family. You found a best friend again, Eddie who sits across from you, smiling at you because he too, found a best friend in you.

And you and Steve, you aren’t close by any means, but you are happy to have him in your life now, even if only like this.

“And I, I found a family and my uh beautiful soon to be wife.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in.

It takes another moment for everyone to lose their calmness.

When the soft smiles vanish and the shocked and surprised looks take over your faces, Joyce and Hopper can’t help but laugh.

“W-Wait what!?” Dustin shrieks, “you’re getting married!?”

“Yep,” Hopper nods, smiling proudly.

El is smiling excitedly, clapping her hands together, like she is relieved that it’s no longer a secret, “and I can’t wait for the wedding!”

Nancy and Jonathan laugh at her excitement, while Dustin still looks between the older couple.

You glance at Eddie, who is staring at Hopper like he wants to say something but he bites his tongue, not wanting to ruin the sweet moment with one of his jokes.

“And we want you all to be there,” Hopper nods with a small smile on his face, “it wasn’t my idea to invite you all, just so you know.”

Everyone laughs at his words and the fake grumpy look on his face, by now you all know that the former Chief isn’t as mean and cold as everyone always knew him to be.

“It was his idea,” Joyce smiles, cheekily.

“Of course it was, he loves us!” Dustin grins at Hopper.

“Well, congrats,” Robin smiles brightly, “I can’t believe you’re inviting a bunch of kids but hey, I’m excited!”

Joyce gives her a warm smile, while Hopper grumbles something under his breath as he looks between Dustin and Mike.

After all the congratulations go around, Hopper finally takes a seat, pointing at all the food on the table, including the few pieces of chicken that Jonathan had burned because he was too busy making out with Nancy, telling you all to finally ‘dig in’.

The conversations flow easily between everyone and it feels familiar despite being new to this circle.

And while you and Steve don’t really talk to each other, you feel his eyes on you every once in a while. You feel his arm brushing against yours, his hands grazing your knuckles whenever he reaches for his drink – and every slightest touch shoots electricity through your veins and your heart beats a little faster every time his skin touches yours.

You curse at yourself for feeling so weak for him, for almost crumbling after only these small and very innocent touches, for liking someone who spent most of his life hating you.

You spend the rest of the night avoiding him, trying to lean away, trying to look at anyone but at him. And even then, you can still feel his eyes on you and it’s driving you crazy and you suddenly can’t wait to get away from him so you can finally breathe and stop feeling so delusional – his comment, his touches, his glances are all getting too much. If he was someone else, you would think that he was flirting but he is Steve Harrington for god's sake, and he would never flirt, not with you.

You feel relief rushing through your whole body when hours later, Eddie announces that he is going home, you almost jump up and bolt towards the door but your best friend seems to have other plans.

With his hands on your shoulder and an apologetic smile on his face, he opens his mouth, “Buckley is driving my car tonight, I wouldn’t want to put you in danger, sorry sweets, you’re with Harrington tonight. Don’t worry, you’ll be in good hands.” He winks and pinches your cheek before he scurries away.

Robin follows him, winking at you as she walks out with Eddie’s car keys, and the teens following her.

Max gives you a sheepish smile, mouthing a ‘sorry’ before she walks out, as well, leaving you standing in the hallway.

What the hell.

You have been waiting to get away from him, now you’re forced to drive home with Steve? No. Just the thought of being alone with him makes you feel nervous.

You look around the empty hallway, you already said your goodbyes to everyone and no one will care how or who you went home with. You can just walk home… by yourself, and you won’t have to suffer through another car ride with Steve.

But as you reach for the knob, the sound of keys jingling stops you from opening the door. You close your eyes, clenching your jaw. You don’t have to look to know who it is.

“Running away from me?” Steve asks.

You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes and the smirk on his face. Hazel eyes glowing beneath the dim lights.

“Come on, Blondie,” he murmurs, eyeing you up and down as he steps up behind you, placing his hand over yours so he can open the door.

His hand touches yours. His hand envelopes yours fully. His chest is almost pressed against your back. Your heart flutters and your knees almost buckle for real, this time.

His lip twitches and he licks them as he looks down at you.

You tear your eyes away from him when he opens the door. You quickly step out and breathe in the fresh night air, hoping that it will calm your racing heart.

“I-I didn’t know you’d be my ride tonight.”

Steve watches the way your dress sways as you walk down the porch steps. Fuck. He clears his throat, but feels unable to look away as he follows you. You don’t even look back at him, not until you’re standing next to his car and giving him a very annoyed look.

“Is that a problem for you?”

“Maybe.”

He shakes his head with a chuckle as he unlocks his car.

“Get your ass in the car, Blondie.”

Steve doesn’t know what it is about you today, but everything you do, everything you say drives him crazy. That cheeky smile that you throw at him as you open the door, the way you tilt your head as you lick your upper lip before you say “yes, sir.” Has him clenching his jaw.

He looks up into the night sky, taking a deep breath before he gets in the car.

He tries not to look at you, but it’s hard not to when he for some reason feels some sort of electric pull towards you tonight.

He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway without another word.

Neither of you speak on the drive home but Steve can’t help but steal glances, while you are completely unaware of it, just like you’re unaware of how much your dress rode up, not enough to reveal too much but enough to make him sweat.

Steve is under your spell tonight and you don’t even know it.

The drive to your house is too short for his liking and unlike him, who seems to be eager to spend more time with you tonight, you seem like you can’t wait to jump out of the car and get away from him.

You open the door, mumbling a ‘thanks for the ride.’

“You know, I really didn’t think that you could dress like that, Blondie.” He says, intending those words to sound… flirty.

A laugh falls from your lips because of how absurd this is. He didn’t think you looked cute, he probably thinks you dress too feminine for the attitude you have towards him, that’s all. This new kind of teasing is hurting you, but you can’t say anything about it to him, you can’t say that this hurts you, that it’s making you go insane. He would ask why, and you would have no excuse. You can’t face rejection, at least not right now… So you play along.

“Careful, Lego head. You’ll give me the wrong idea and make me think that you have a crush on me or something,” you joke with words he said to you not too long ago. You throw a wink at him and shut the door before he can even open his mouth to say something.

With his hand on the steering wheel and his eyes still stuck on you, he breathes heavily, his heart pounding and his cheeks burning as he slowly comes down from whatever high he had been on all day.

He swallows harshly, but his heart fucking flutters when he can smell your perfume that still lingers.

He watches you disappear into your house and shutting the door without giving him another glance or something.

He slumps back in his seat, throwing his hand into his hair, he runs his fingers through it as all the events come rushing to him.

The teasing, the touches, the… flirting.

Steve is stunned by his own actions, by how he acted towards you today – something that you were very unaware of, something that he is now glad about… Yet, he can’t help but feel a little disappointed that you didn’t notice the teasing.

He doesn’t even know where it all came from but he blames it on his desperation to feel something again, something that he had been craving for so long.

He was guided by lust, not by interest.��

Because in no way, would he ever be interested in you.

All he saw today was a pretty girl in a pretty dress, it didn’t matter that it was you. He just needed to feel something, and he did… by teasing you.

But it’s something that will never happen again.

He swears, it will never happen again.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @ibellcipem

I'm sorry if I forgot anyone again (I'm the worst at taglists)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #stranger things angst

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vaaaaaiolet · 2 months

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It's the RPD's annual Secret Santa, and Leon's at his wit's end finding the perfect gift for his work crush. No competition, of course, except for the part where you make him promise not to bring something lame. Leon's got a week. He can do this. Right?

gn / m, fluff, romance, humor, leon is a SWEETHEART, you guys work at the RPD but you're leon's senior and also love reading??, no outbreak, inspired by the teapot episode of The Office lol, tw: claustrophobia

word count: 1.5k // read on ao3

a/n: vivi try not to mention christmas challenge go!!! @k1ssaphobe this one's for you <3 literally the ugliest effing banner i've ever made i'm SO SORRY but this completely destroyed my writer's block. i had so much fun <3

It’s all been downhill since Leon plucked your name out of a glass jar last week. Shit. Multiply that times three, rain down a couple red and green sprinkles for holiday spirit, and you have a great representation of how prepared Leon feels about being assigned the most crippling crush he’s had since high school for the RPD’s annual Secret Santa: you.

Shit, indeed.

His hands shake like tremolo as he rereads your name printed on his little slip of paper, and Leon decides right then and there that the best way to go about this is to not go about it at all. Plain and simple.

“Aren’t you excited?” you gush after your turn to draw from the jar. Poor you, you’d taken his jittery hands as enthusiasm.

Leon grins tightly. “For sure, yeah, I um… I love Christmas. Really excited. You get who you wanted?”

“Hey, no cheating. Not even with me, rookie.” You scrunch your face, clutching your paper to your chest. “Secret Santa’s secret. But it’s no secret that you’ve got to give it your all, so no lousy gifts allowed, got it?”

Well, there’s that plan gone. It’s back to police academy basics: Keep It Simple, Stupid.

There’s nothing to overthink about making a good impression as the newest RPD recruit, Leon gaslights himself while haunting the Target holiday aisle on Monday night. You routinely save him from Irons’ infamous wrath, so it’s only natural that Leon spends all of Tuesday in a stupor at his desk, definitely not thinking of how he could never pay you back the favor with a silly Secret Santa gift.

Wednesday rolls by and his coffee from yesterday sits in the break room, cold and overstirred next to today’s breakfast crumbs. How many times has Leon watched you sip tea at your desk? Five, six?

Your eyes sparkle over the rim of your cup when he asks you about your weekend. Really, he doesn’t get the hate for small talk. There’s nothing small about the smile that bunches up your cheeks when he cracks a stupid joke about the weather, and more often than not, Leon finds himself waterboarding his notes app with the names of all the novels you drop mid-conversation so he can binge their Sparknotes over the weekend. So it goes, according to Kurt Vonnegut.

Ugh, he should have paid more attention in English. What the hell is an allegory anyway? Leon spends all of Thursday browsing your Goodreads profile and wracking his head over the hefty price tags attached to your TBR list. His wallet makes for a terrible wingman.

But really, finding the perfect gift is no sweat at all. Leon is absolutely nonplussed (according to his 50th vocabulary-related Google search) when he steps into the RPD elevator on Friday morning with a clumsily wrapped, candy cane-striped bundle in his arms.

“Hold it plea- Leon!”

Liar, liar, pants on fire – he’s totally shitting his pants when you barely make it inside before the doors snap shut.

“Thanks,” you gasp.

Leon nods stiffly, his cheeks growing warm, and jams the second-floor button with his knuckle.

As the elevator starts its maddeningly slow climb, you hum, rocking back and forth in your snow boots. You’re cradling a package of your own, something four-cornered and fairly small. Leon, however, feels like he’s holding a bomb, the object of his affections standing less than three feet from his radius of destruction. How are you so carefree right now? You’ve probably got this gifting thing in the bag and he most definitely doesn’t.

Leon can see everything unfold the moment he enters the office. You’ve had your gift planned months beforehand, his gift is going to be horrifically lame when you open it, everyone’s going to clap politely but you’re going to hate him forev-

And then the elevator plunges into pitch black.

“Oh my god!”

Who screamed louder, Leon doesn’t want to find out.

The elevator shudders to a complete stop. Leon’s mental spiral of doom helpfully supplies him with an image of you two dangling in midair, suspended on wires. Maybe this is the universe saving him from delivering the worst Secret Santa gift of his life.

Leon blinks in the darkness, waiting for your unflappable voice to cut through the silence and figure a way out, headstrong as always, except you don’t, and Leon strains his ears to hear what’s surely not what he thinks it is, a whisper that sounds an awful lot like: “Leon, I don’t want to die.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna die,” you whimper. “I don’t wanna die.”

Your voice floats up from a lot lower than he remembers your head being, so he crouches down to find you with your arms hugged to your chest. You’re huddled against the wall, breathing all shallow. The package in your arms lies forgotten somewhere in the abyss.

“Hey, hey, nobody’s dying.” Leon reaches out to find your hand. “What’s the matter?”

“I have, cl-clau-”

“Claustrophobia?” He remembers that one well. Wishes he didn’t.

You nod fitfully.

“The dark doesn’t help either, huh?” he whispers, craning his head to look at the busted bulb on the ceiling. “Damn.”

Your palm grows colder and clammier in his hand by the minute, and the shakiness in your breathing is starting to worry him. Your head pops above your knees when you hear rustling in the shadows, and then the telltale Christmastime cacophony of wrapping paper being torn to shreds.

“What are you…?”

“Being resourceful,” Leon grits, tearing his Secret Santa gift open. He fumbles with its contents for a second, slipping something into a plastic compartment. “It’s not the best, but…”

The elevator blooms with soft, golden light.

“...it’ll do.”

“What’s this?” you murmur in awe, cupping your hands around the tiny book light Leon holds.

“My Secret Santa gift,” he chuckles sheepishly. “I kind of, um, blanked. I’m also really bad at giving gifts, so there’s also this,” he says, pulling out a mug from the heap of trashed wrapping paper.

When I Think About Books, I Touch My Shelf, it announces with impunity.

Leon blushes when you giggle at the inscription. Things always look better online than in person, rookie mistake. But at least you’re breathing better now.

“This is amazing,” you laugh, cradling the cup like there’s warmth inside.

“Not so amazing now that I’ve opened all the packaging.”

“Your Secret Santa won’t mind at all, trust me, not with a gift like this- ‘touch my shelf’, you’re unbelievable! Tell me where you got it.”

He shakes his head.

“Leon Scott Kennedy, if you don’t stop gatekeeping this incredible mug and this super useful book light, by the way, I’m going to tell Irons you spilled coffee all over his desk. I can be very convincing, y’know.” You cross your arms decidedly, waiting.

“There’s no need for all that!” he protests.

“That was a promise, Leon, not a threat.”

“C’mon, be reasonable here.”

“You’re still not telling me.”

“It’s for you, silly.” Leon tilts his head, face heating up faster than the book light bulb, “You’re my Secret Santa.”

He must be hallucinating the pink in your cheeks.

“Oh,” you breathe.

“Yes, oh,” Leon teases, scooching to sit next to you. “I couldn’t think of anything,” he confesses, “so I just went with the basics. I know you read and I know you really miss your old tea mug, the one that broke, right? You’re my gifting competition and I got nervy from how sure you were about your person’s gift. So, um, I played safe.” Leon finishes lamely and squeezes his eyes shut, hoping the light doesn’t also illuminate the shame radiating from his body.

And then he feels the press of an unbelievably soft kiss on his cheek.

“It’s much better than what I’ve got,” he hears.

His eyes fly open. Words don’t form right in his throat when you reach out for the package you dropped when the lights went out. Wrapping paper falls apart neatly in your hands (what don’t you do perfectly?) and you unveil a mini waffle iron, proportioned perfectly for somebody always running late without breakfast. Somebody like Leon.

“You keep missing breakfast and Irons is on my ass about saving you food all the time, so I guess took the practical route too,” you shuffle your feet, bashful all of a sudden. “And um, my gift’s kind of useless if we never make it out. Sorry.”

He fingers the tag in wonder.

Merry Christmas, Leon! There’s a timer so you don’t burn them :) xoxo, your Secret Santa!

You’re so goddamn sweet. You’re perfect and thoughtful and it’s all your fault that Leon didn’t have the faintest clue what to give you. Think, Leon, think. He knows he’s not this stupid. What do you give to somebody who has everything?

A kiss. One that’s all smiles and just as sweet as the way you kiss him back, because screw Secret Santa.

It’s hard to keep secrets when you’re Leon’s favorite one.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfiction #resident evil #vaaaaaiolet #ao3 fanfic

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dragonbarbie · 1 year

Text

𝐖𝐇𝐘'𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇?

modern!aegon ii targaryen x reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

summary: reader thinks aegon can never be more than a one night stand, and aegon is intent on getting her to give him a chance.

word count: 2.5k

tags: modern!au, smut, drunk!aegon having sex with sober!reader, voyeurism, exhibitionism, tity sucking, pussy eating, p in v sex, unprotected sex

note: i very much write fanon!aegon, not the canon, show!version.

sidenote: is this lowkey inspired by my irl situationship who wont quit calling me every time he gets drunk?? maybe

it was a regular friday night for aegon. his frat was throwing a big party, and he had organised everything down to the last detail. he had a reputation to maintain after all, known affectionately as the king of parties of dragonstone university. he had already drunk his own weight in alcohol, flirted (and then proceeded to get handsy) with a couple of girls but he’d been too distracted to follow through with any of them.

his mind instead wandered back to a couple of weeks ago, at another party, where he’d met y/n. she’d been chatting to cregan stark, wearing a little black dress that hugged her in the best way imaginable. he knew, looking at her enchanting laugh at stark’s dumb joke, he had to have her. putting on his most charming smile, he’d approached her.

she’d been wary of him because of his reputation around campus (who wouldn’t be) but after a few disarming jokes as his fingertips grazed the side of her thighs, he’d managed to convince her to give him a chance.

drunken steps were then taken back to her dorm room, and they’d had what aegon could only call amazing sex.

now hold on, you have to believe him when he says amazing, alright? he’d slept with too many women to count, after a while the nights blended to the point that he couldn’t much differentiate between what having sex with each of them had felt like. so, when one such night stood out for him? it meant it had met a very high bar indeed. after all, he thought, he didn’t go around spending the night at every girl’s place.

he'd thus expected a little warmer treatment come morning and was rudely shocked at her attempting to throw him out. still, wearing his jeans in such a hurry that its button and fly was undone, unlaced shoes, bare-chested as he held his rumpled shirt in his hand, he’d had the audacity to offer her a lazy grin and promise “i’ll call you.”

“please” she’d snorted with an amused look, “everyone knows aegon targaryen is not the type to call.” taking no note of his offended expression, she’d shut the door in his face.

he’d been wondering about those words ever since. sure, she hadn’t been wrong but, hey, he’d meant the lie this time! with tits that great, ass that perfect, why wouldn’t he want a repeat of last night? he’d thought to himself.

determined to prove her wrong, he’d asked around the frat house and found out her number. but as his hand had hovered over the call button, something had stopped him. she’d caught him spot on, he realised. he wasn’t a relationship guy, and she wasn’t expecting the relationship-thing with him. perhaps it was best he left her alone.

he’d done just that, at least while sober. drunk aegon on the other hand, found it much easier to pick up the phone and dial her number.

“who is this?” there was panic and sleep in her voice, having picked up an unknown number at 2 in the morning “sweetheart! you picked up” he’d grinned, words slurring. he could practically hear the eyeroll on the other end. “aegon… to what do i owe the pleasure?” “i was just missing you.” he sighed. “sure.” nothing in her voice indicated that she believed him.

“i’m actually not far from your dorm. how about i come up with a bottle of tequila and we can… catch up?” he suggestively added. “it’s 2:14 am…. on a tuesday.” she pointed out, but her words didn’t seem to mean much to him as he replied, “so?” an exasperated sigh could be heard over the phone, “good night, aegon.” click. he stared down on the iphone in his hand in disbelief, she’d hung up on him.

he decided maybe he’d come out too strong, so the next time he texted first. he’d stared at the text for a couple of minutes, and when he saw that she was online but hadn’t bothered to text him back, he’d walked over to the nearest girl and proceeded to make out with her in the bathroom. until he was interrupted with a buzzing in his pocket, “just a minute” he’d mumbled against her lips, unbothered by her disappointed expression as he fished for the phone in his pocket hurriedly.

he saw that y/n had finally replied to his ‘u up?’ with a ‘depends.’ his brow furrowed at her response in confusion, he typed back ‘on what’.

the notification arrived with a ping. her response read ‘are u drunk?’. something told him instinctively to lie. he typed out a no, but once the message sent, he realised it had autocorrected to ‘yo’. he corrected it to a no and sent again, only to find the same mistake committed again. it was only after a string of typos had been sent, did he blink and realise autocorrect wasn’t to blame at all, his damn fingers just refused to cooperate with his inebriated brain.

ping. after receiving the string of nonsense, she finally replied ‘i got my answer.’ “aegon?” the girl in front of him looked at him impatiently, only to have him grab the handle of the bathroom door, leaving with a quick “gotta go”. he immediately called up y/n as he walked out of the party, but the call went straight to voicemail. all four times.

thus, every night aegon had gotten drunk since, he found himself being distracted by thoughts of y/n, frustrated at her refusing to engage with him.

that night too, once the clock on the wall started to look to him as if it were melting off and his feet seemed to stumble wherever he walked, his brain suddenly thought showing up to her dorm was the best idea ever.

reaching her door, he ran a hand through his hair before knocking. no response. impatient, he loudly whined “y/n! c’mon, open up!” met with more silence. he whipped his phone out, blinking at the bright screen as he concentrated to make sure it was without typos, he sent her a text, ‘m 0utsidee’. he pounded with his fist on the door one more time, before a door opened, but not the one he was standing in front of.

three doors down, y/n stood against her doorframe in her small black shorts, red tank top riding up slightly to reveal skin just above them. “wrong fucking door, idiot.” aegon grinned as he walked towards her. “you’re lucky baela’s out of town for the weekend, otherwise she would have kicked your ass for banging on her door like that.”

ignoring her, he pouted as he leaned his head against her door frame, looking too much like a wounded puppy. y/n felt a tug at her stomach at how undeniably cute he looked. “why don’t you ever pick up my calls?”

“why’d you only ever call me when you’re high?” she asked instead of answering. “what?” he mumbled, confused. “high….why’d you only ever call me when you’re high?” she slowly repeated, as if talking to a two-year-old. “i’m not interested in someone who needs to be drunk to call me. i don’t want to be your booty call.” she shrugged. his lower lip jutted out further at her response, crease appearing between his brow. oh, gods, y/n found herself thinking, how could someone manage to look this pathetic and this cute at the same time.

“you’re not a booty call.” he groaned in protest. after all, there were enough girls at that party willingly throwing themselves at him, he could have been with anyone, and yet… it was her door his drunken steps had taken the path of.

“go home, aegon. it was a one-time thing. it’s not happening again.” she insisted. her words seemed to have no effect on him, as he placed a hand around her waist and pulled her closer to him, close enough for her to feel his breath on her face. he bent down to her ear and whispered, his words slurring, “let me show you all the reasons that this should be more than just a ‘one-time-thing’.”

he pressed his lips to hers, softly at first. she didn’t immediately kiss him back, but the feeling of his lips on hers felt more intoxicating than whatever it was that she could smell off his breath, and she found her lips moving against his within seconds. he bit her lower lip playfully, at her response. she parted her lips to allow him to slide his tongue past them. his hand, meanwhile, slid under the material of her tank and travelled upwards, thumb pressing against her nipple as he squeezed her breast. breaking from the kiss for a second, he smirked at her, “didn’t bother wearing a bra to greet me?”. “i was preparing for bed!” she hissed in response. “excuses” he shook his head at her, teasing.

with his hand he lifted her tank to reveal her bare breasts. “aegon!” she attempted to keep her voice low, lest her neighbours wake up to the scene, “we’re in the middle of the hallway, anyone can walk in!” the idea of someone catching them only made it all the more exciting for aegon, “relax.” he told her with a laidback smile.

before she could protest, his head dipped and he captured her nipple in his mouth. a moan escaped her lips at the feeling, and she stumbled back, her back hitting her doorframe. aegon continued his tongue’s assault on her sensitive nipple, one hand gripping her waist to keep her in place, the other reaching behind her to squeeze her ass. her hand held the nape of his neck, as her head was thrown back in pleasure at his actions. she whined when he abruptly stopped.

he kneeled down and his fingers reached up, pulling her shorts and panties down her legs, causing a shiver to go up her spine. chewing on her lower lip in nervousness she weakly said, “we should go inside” but she couldn’t deny that the thought of getting caught made her even more wet. there was a hint of recklessness and danger in his eyes, “where’s your sense of adventure?”. he threw the clothes inside her ajar door, then lifted one of her legs over his shoulder. she audibly gasped as she felt his tongue upon her already soaking pussy.

“aegon…ah!” her hand gripped his hair as his tongue played tricks on her core, her eyes rolling back till she could see stars. his grip on her thigh remained firm, and she was certain she would be waking up with a bruise. “close… so…close…” she had begun to say after a few minutes, feeling her muscles tense, when he stopped.

he stood up and started to undo his pants, freeing his length. he grabbed her by the waist, letting the tip of his cock tease her folds. she was already moaning for him, “want me to take you right here? make you scream my name, till your neighbours come checking?” she swallowed at the thought, lust overtaking her eyes.

“let’s do one thing.” he smiled as if he’d struck upon the most perfect idea, but the gleam in his eyes told y/n it couldn’t be anything good. he turned her around by her waist, hand coming to her front to rub her clit as he whispered in her ear, “you see that door?”. she knew he could only mean the door to the elevator which was the way to enter her dormitory floor. she managed a nod in response, unable to form words as his fingers pressed down on her so ruthlessly. “keep looking at it.” he commanded as he grabbed her hips back to push his cock inside her. “aegon!” she gasped at the feeling.

he entered her completely in one go, pulling out punishingly slow before pushing back in. he continued speaking as he impaled her, “someone’s gonna walk in any moment now…” he teased, “…and see you in this mess… see you bent over, taking me from behind…like a whore” the thought embarrassed her, yes, but what embarrassed her more was that she found herself almost wanting it to come true.

“even when they walk in, i won’t stop.” he threatned, his thrusts becoming faster. “you’ll be on display for everyone to see… to see how well you take my cock.” he gathered her hair in his fist in one hand, and she felt him pulling it lightly. “yes, oh, yes!” she found herself moaning, eyes intently trained on the door. “you’d like that? of course, you would, little slut.” she only whimpered in response, his words bringing her closer and closer to her edge. “you’d love to have everyone see just how well you receive a ‘booty call’” he chuckled. she could feel herself going weak at the knees at his pace and dirty talk.

“aegon… i—ah!” pleasure spread over every inch of her body, as she came all over his cock. he continued to thrust into her, chasing his own orgasm, until he emptied inside of her with a grunt.

her legs felt wobbly as he pulled out of her, turning her back around to face him. “next time i call—” he panted as he spoke, exerted from their activities, “—pick up.” she smirked, in contrast to his dominating actions mere moments ago, his words now sounded more like a pleading request; one she felt gracious enough to grant him as his juice and her own dripped down her legs. “i will. promise.”

his pearly white teeth showed as he grinned at her response, pleased. “oh, but i’m not nearly done with you for the night, just yet.” he lifted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. he shut the door behind them as he walked back inside her dorm.

the next morning, she didn’t kick him out like the last time. she let him linger around her bed, aegon placing a trail of kisses down her body as a manner of greeting her good morning. he was needy and showed it by being as tactile with her as could be. yet she felt comfortable with his touches, allowing herself to lie with him for hours, their legs tangled. even as she bid him goodbye from her door, she had to practically tear her lips off his, neither able to get enough of the other.

she felt content as she’d shut her door behind her, leaning against it as she thought back to the night that had passed, when her phone started to ring. she picked it and smiled as she saw the name being displayed, ‘aegon (don’t pick up)’.

“see i am the type who calls. a lot” she laughed at his words through the phone, able to hear him standing right outside the door. “and also the type who does breakfast. what do you say, brunch in an hour?”

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f1goat · 1 year

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his masseur x lando norris

In which you're Lando his best friend and masseur, but your feelings start to cause a bit of trouble.

Requested: yes Warnings: small mentions of sexual content / not proof read

Tuesday - August 2022

“Maybe you can sleep in my bed this time?” Lando asks you.

You look up surprised. This is new.

“What’s wrong with the guest room?” You ask still surprised.

“Nothing!” Lando quickly exclaims, “but I’m tired but I also don’t want to stop cuddling like this. So I thought we could sleep together.. Maybe?”

You notice that Lando is rambling now. You smile at him. “That sounds great,” you say with a genuine smile.

Lando leaves his earlier position to get of the couch. You think about what’s happening. Maybe it’s weird for friends to cuddle as much as you and Lando do. Maybe it’s even weirder that you’re going to sleep in the same bed as him. But it’s not like you mind. You have been crushing on Lando forever, so every little thing you can have you take willingly.

Thursday - November 2022

“Happy birthday Lan!”

You kiss him on his cheeks. Lando pulls you even closer to him so the two of you can hug properly. After a bit you release yourself from his hug so you can give him his present. You hand him over the present you carefully wrapped with an orange wrapping paper. You watch how Lando unties the golden ribbons.

His face lits up when he sees the present. You smile as well from his happy reaction. It’s safe to say he loves the new microphone you got him. It’s themed with everything he likes. The Quadrant logo and colors are covering the stand part, while the mic itself is a bit more McLaren themed.

“I thought you could use a new one for your streams,” you tell him.

“You’re amazing!” Lando exclaims enthusiastic. He pulls you closer to himself again. It doesn’t take more then a few seconds before he’s hugging you once again.

“I love it,” he tells you softly, “You know me the best!”

Sunday - December 2022

“Finally a well deserved break,” Lando says.

You nod. “You were amazing this season,” you tell him.

Lando smiles gratefully. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” he tells you even more grateful.

“Don’t say that,” you say quickly, “It was all you. I’m just massaging you.”

“I’m glad you’re on my team,” Lando says, “so I might have a tiny surprise to thank you for that.”

“A tiny surprise?” You ask.

“I booked us a hotel here, so we can spend a week together. We can do some fun things! Like exploring the city and go buggy riding in the desert.”

“That’s not a tiny surprise,” you tell him while laughing.

“Oops,” Lando just says.

“Are you thanking everyone on your team like that?” You ask.

“I send the rest a nice thank you card,” Lando replies.

You laugh.

Sunday morning - January 2023

“I can’t wait to spend the whole year with you again,” Lando softly says. The clock just stroke midnight. Lando is sitting next to you on the couch. You’re with friends, but everyone is busy with wishing each other a happy new year. Something you should do as well, but you’re enjoying your small private moment with Lando.

“Me too Lan,” you say, “and a happy new year to you!”

“Happy new year!” Lando replies happily.

He comes closer to you. You want to press a kiss to his cheek, like you always do with friends while wishing them a happy new year. Lando seems to have the same idea. You don’t know how it happend, but in some way Lando his lips end up on yours.

“Oh fuck,” you say.

It didn’t even last two seconds, but it feels like an eternity.

“Sorry!” Lando quickly says.

“It doesn’t matter Lan, nothing happened. I’m going to wish the others a happy new year as well.”

Lando watches you when you walk away. He sighs. “Yeah, nothing happened. Just my feelings for you,” he mutters annoyed.

Thursday night - February 2023

“Thanks for picking me up,” you tell Lando.

“It’s nothing, how was the date?” Lando asks you.

You sigh. “Since I texted you a few hours earlier then we discussed I think you can conclude that it was bad.”

“I don’t get it. Why do you keep going on dates with types like this?” Lando asks you.

“I don’t know either,” you sigh. You think about who you really want. The guy next to you who’s currently driving you home in his McLaren. Lando is silent, he’s thinking about how it shouldn’t feel this way. Every time he picks you up he’s happy that your date didn’t go well. He can’t be like this. His jealousy is rising up way too much recently.

“I think I’m going to stop dating for a while,” you tell Lando after a bit of silence, “Maybe I’m not ready yet,” you add.

Lando can’t stop himself from smiling. It’s insane how relieved he feels suddenly.

Friday night - March 2023

“Would it be weird if we kissed?”

You look up at Lando. Does he even know what he’s asking you right now? It’s not like you can blame him right now. He’s drunk. But still, you let out a small sigh when you think about his question. Yes it would be weird, but you wouldn’t care about that.

“I kinda want to kiss you,” Lando continues.

Butterflies are all over the place inside of you. You don’t have to check the rear mirror in Lando his car to find out your cheeks are red. You feel flustered. You try to focus on driving, but Lando is making it hard for you. For the second time that evening you remind yourself about Lando his condition. He’s drunk. Carlos and Max texted you before to warn you and when you picked up Lando you quickly noticed it as well. You can’t take his words serious right now, he’s drunk.

“You’re drunk Lan,” you tell him after doubting for a bit, “but yes, it probably would be weird. We have been friends forever.” You don’t tell him that you don’t mind the weird aspect. You also don’t tell him about your feelings from the last years for him.

“If you say so,” Lando sighs.

You hope Lando doesn’t asks questions like this again. Or not like this. He can ask questions like this, but not when he’s drunk and his words are meaningless.

Saturday morning - March 2023

“Fuck,” Lando grunts, “That was just what I needed.”

You release a bit off the harsh pressure you used earlier. Slowly you massage further. Since you graduated last year, you’ve become Lando his personal masseuse. You’ve been lucky when McLaren hired you for it. Since then you join Lando and his - and your - team to every race. Meaning you can spend a lot of time with Lando.

“I thought so,” you tell Lando smilingly.

Lando lets out a soft moan. Something that can give you weird butterflies sometimes, but now you’re getting used to it. It’s just because your massaging him.

“You seemed pretty drunk last night,” you add.

“Oh god,” Lando grunts, “Please don’t remind me. I have no memories left. Sorry that you needed to pick me up like that.”

You let out a soft disappointed sigh. You already expected this, but still. It would be nice if Lando remembered what he told you last night. It’s nothing new. Things like this happen way too often.

“It doesn’t matter Lan, that’s what friends do,” you tell him to comfort him.

“Hm, friends yeah,” Lando sighs.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

Lando doesn’t really respond anymore. You put a bit more pressure on his abs while massaging him. While you do so you think about multiple weird situations you had with Lando.

“Maybe we can have a night in tonight? After qualifying,” Lando suggests after a bit. “We can watch some movies or something, whatever you like,” he adds.

“I kinda planned a selfcare night,” you tell Lando, “but maybe we can combine it?”

“I’m in,” Lando tells you happily.

“Great!”

Saturday - April 2023

“Y/n, it’s time for my massage.”

You look up surprised. Lando is standing in front of you and Pierre. What is he talking about? You just massaged him earlier. You’re free for the rest of the day.

“Let’s talk further another time,” Pierre tells you.

You just met him. He seemed nice. Maybe you can finally find some other friends on the grid as well?

“That sounds great,” you tell Pierre excited.

You almost start to think that Lando lets out a scoff, but you’re probably wrong. You walk closer to Lando and he takes you with him to his drivers room.

“I already massaged you Lan, what was that about?” You ask him confused.

“I just got a bit of pain in my shoulder,” Lando mutters.

“Okay, can you pull of your shirt?”

When Lando feels your hands on his painless shoulders, he feels happy again. Maybe it was childish, but he didn’t see another way to get you away from Pierre and back to himself.

What’s going on with him?

Wednesday - May 2023

“I think I’m in love with y/n.”

“No shit,” Max sighs, “It took you forever to find out.”

Lando looks at his friend. Was he that transparant?

“So when will you tell her?” Max asks.

“Never!” Lando says quickly. He almost shouts. “What do you think that’ll happen? She doesn’t return my feelings, everything will become awkward and then I will lose her.”

“For fuck sake,” Max sighs, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Max, you have to keep this a secret,” Lando almost begs, “I can’t lose y/n.”

“You’re such an idiot.”

Saturday - June 2023

“Fuck, that feels amazing,” Lando moans.

You slowly apply more pressure to his body. Your hands roam around Lando his necks and shoulders carefully. When you come closer to his neck, Lando can’t withhold another soft moan. You start to feel the well known butterflies flatter around in your body.

Lando doesn’t stop. He keeps letting out soft sounds that show you exactly what you’re doing to him. After a bit you notice that you’ll get an even bigger reaction when you massage him on a specific spot close to his neck. You can’t help yourself and don’t stop touching him there. Can it be his sweet spot? You wonder what will happen when you let your lips touch his neck right on that spot. Fuck, you shouldn’t think like this.

“Can you lie down on your back Lan?” You ask a bit later.

Lando shuffles a bit, but he doesn’t move to lie down on his back. You wonder what’s going on.

“Lan?” You ask.

“Give me a few minutes,” Lando tells you.

“Is something wrong? You need to tell me if you feel uncomfortable or painful when I do something,” you say.

“No!” Lando quickly replies, “It’s far from wrong.”

You don’t get it at first, but then Lando lies down on his back. You notice the bulge that formed itself in his pants. Lando doesn’t look at you. Something that comes in quite handy right now, because you’re smile isn’t really professional anymore.

Sunday - July 2023

Lando his qualifying at Silverstone went amazing. He got the second place and that as his home race. This is amazing. Currently the two of you are laying on the couch. You’re feeling relaxed while spending time like this with Lando.

“Maybe I can massage you a bit?” Lando suggests, “Reverse the roles for once.”

“That seems nice.”

Lando helps you to find a comfortable position on his lap. His hands slowly find your shoulders. He’s quick to apply a bit of pressure on them. You let out a soft sigh of relaxation. It’s been way too long since someone massaged you. That’s the disadvantage of being a masseur, everyone always expects you to massage them and not the other way around.

“How does this feel?” Lando asks you.

It feels like his hands are touching you everywhere at once. You haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time. He’s slowly massaging your neck and you can’t stop yourself from letting out a soft moan.

“Like you should do this more often,” you answer Lando jokingly.

You don’t tell him that you already feel yourself getting wet. Fuck. Why does he have to have such big, strong hands? That also feel insanely good on your body?

***

A few hours and a movie and some YouTube video’s later you’re still laying against Lando. The two of you are cuddled up on the couch in your hotel room. Lando plays with your hair while he focuses on the television in front of him. You can’t seem to focus anymore. Your mind keeps filling up with thoughts about Lando.

“I’m glad you’re on my team,” Lando tells you suddenly, “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“You’re the one who’s racing this good,” you reply.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando says slowly, “but I couldn’t have done any of this without your support. It means the world to me that you’re always here.”

“There’s no place where I would be rather.”

“Promise me you’re in for a long time?” Lando asks you.

Without even thinking about it you stick out your pink. Lando is quick to wrap his own around yours.

“I promise Lan and if you join another team, I’ll do everything I can to join them as well.”

“I’m not going anywhere else if you can’t join me,” Lando says, “If they want me, they get you as well.”

You laugh.

Sunday - July 2023

You haven’t seen Lando for a while now. The two of you are in some sort of night club with a lot of the other drivers. Earlier today Lando got his second place. His first podium of the season. He even drove a couple laps as race leader. Things were amazing. You haven’t been proud, excited and happy like this for a long time. It feels insanely good. That’s why the both of you wanted to celebrate.

“Hi!”

You notice that Pierre Gasly is standing in front of you and just greeted you.

“Hey,” you greet him back.

Pierre and you have know each other for a while now. You can say that you’re friends with each other, but not really close friends. During race weekends you’ll talk with each other, but that’s about it. Still, when you talk to each other it’s nice and comfortable.

“In the mood to dance?” Pierre asks you. You’re quick to nod. Pierre gives you his hand and takes you with him towards the dance floor.

When Lando searches for you, he’s surprised to find you on the dance floor. Until he sees with who you are. Fuck. He lets out an annoyed sigh. Why does Pierre always come close to you? Lando thinks about a way to get you away from Pierre, but he can’t figure out something right now.

“Congrats on the podium!”

Without even realizing it, Lando is hugging with Yuki Tsunoda. He makes a bit of small talk with him, but Lando his eyes never leave you and Pierre. It annoys him that you’re still dancing with him. He needs to figure out a way to get you back to himself.

“Don’t you find them cute together?” Yuki asks him after a while.

Is Yuki talking about you and Pierre as well? Before Lando can say anything, Yuki continues talking.

“Pierre has been planning on taking her out for a while, maybe he’ll finally ask her now,” Yuki tells Lando.

“He likes her?” Lando asks.

Yuki nods.

“Fuck, I knew it,” Lando mutters annoyed.

Without a plan he walks towards you and Pierre. When he stands in front of you two, he’s quick to grab your arm. You are quick to look up. You’re surprised to see Lando in front of you.

“We’re going back to the hotel,” Lando tells you quickly, not knowing any better excuse right now.

“Why?” You ask surprised.

“I’m not feeling well,” Lando lies.

He notices the way your facial expressions change. He starts to feel like a terrible person when he sees your concerned face.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him.

“I’ll explain in the car,” Lando answers with the lack of a better answer.

“Wait, y/n, before you go, can I ask you something?” Pierre asks you.

Lando his grip on your arm firms. He pulls you with him softly. You look at him, still concerned about his well being. “I really want to go,” Lando tells you. He knows what’s coming next, Pierre is going to ask you out. Fuck. He needs to get you away.

“Maybe you can text me it?” You suggest to Pierre, “Lando isn’t feeling well, so we’re leaving now.”

“I’ll just ask you later,” Pierre sighs.

When you’re sitting in Lando his car, you notice that the boy is looking a lot better already. His weird facial expressions from earlier are gone, he almost seems relieved now? Maybe he was overwhelmed with all the attention and loud music?

“What was wrong?” You ask Lando.

“I uh,” Lando stutters a bit, “uh, I uh, I had a.. a uh, a headache. But it’s already getting better now.”

***

“Sooo,” you let out. You have been waiting for a moment to ask Lando something and maybe now is your chance?

“So?”

“Why don’t you like Pierre?” You ask him.

Since you and Pierre have gotten a bit closer, you have noticed Lando his strange behavior against Pierre. He always tries to get you away from him with excuses (?) about more massages. Or he joins your conversation and makes things awkward. What seems on purpose sometimes.

“You always try to get me away from him,” you add while waiting for Lando his reaction.

Lando sighs. Maybe he should just tell you everything. But he doesn’t.

“There’s nothing wrong with Pierre,” Lando replies.

Wednesday - July 2023

“Want to lunch together?” Lando asks you.

“I’m sorry Lan, Pierre asked me to get lunch together earlier today,” you reply a bit disappointed. If Lando only asked you earlier…

“Oh allright, then I’ll see you later. Right?” Lando asks disappointed.

“Yeah, after lunch I��ll be back,” you reply.

“Okay, have fun.”

Friday - July 2023

“We’re still on for tonight, right?” Lando asks you.

“What do you mean?” You ask surprised.

“It’s Friday!” Lando exclaims loudly, “we always have your self care night on Friday.”

“Oh fuck,” you whisper. You totally forgot. Or better said, you didn’t know Lando saw it as a weekly thing. “Pierre asked me out for dinner tonight, I’m so sorry Lan,” you explain, “but I can cancel?”

“You don’t have to,” Lando sighs, “just have fun with Pierre.”

***

Y/n: uh hi

Y/n: can u pick me up?

Lando: where?

Y/n: *location*

Lando: where is that? Who lives there?

Y/n: Pierre

Lando: can’t he bring you home

Lando: you seem to be dating him

Lando: not me.

Y/N: please lan

Lando: Omw

***

“Thanks for picking me up,” you tell Lando when you step into his car.

Lando is quick to notice your sad expression. He wonders what happened inside Pierre his house. When he sees a small tear rolling over your cheek, he knows for sure something happened.

“What’s wrong?” Lando asks you.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sigh.

“Babygirl,” Lando sighs, “What’s going on lately? We barely see each other and now I’m picking you up from Pierre’s while you’re all sad?”

You let out a small sob.

“I fucked things up,” you cry out.

Lando increases his speed, he wants to get home as soon as possible so he can talk to you properly. He puts his free hand on your thigh and slowly draws some figures on it. When you use both of your hands to hold his, he can’t resist a small smile.

When you’re inside Lando his home, you know Lando still wants answers. He deserves them as well. Together you sit down on his couch. You try to look at Lando, but you can only sob when you do.

Pierre asked you to be his girlfriend tonight. You told him no. Of course you said no. You thought things between you two were just friendly. And there’s Lando. Maybe if Lando wasn’t here, you would have given Pierre a chance. But he’s here. He’s always on your mind. Even when you tried to forget about him, he’s always present in your thoughts.

“What happened?” Lando asks you again.

“I uh,” you stutter, “Pierre uh.. He, he asked me to be his uh.. his girlfriend.”

“Then why are you crying? Isn’t that what you wanted?” Lando asks confused. His body is heating up. He can’t handle it if you’re officially Pierre’s.

“I said no,” you state. This time the words come out a bit calmer.

“Didn’t he accept that?” Lando questions.

You just nod your head this time. When you think back about Pierre his reaction, you shiver.

“Want to talk about it?” Lando asks you.

“Later,” you suggest.

Lando opens his arms for you. It doesn’t take you long before you find your comfortable spot back. You lean on his chest. You’ve missed this.

“I’ve missed you,” you sob.

“I never left,” Lando states, “I just gave you some space with Pierre.”

“I don’t want space,” you sigh.

“What do you want?” Lando asks you confused, “I thought you wanted to date Pierre, so it seemed logical to give you a bit of space while figuring things out with him.”

You don’t think about your answer.

“I want you,” you state.

When the words leave your mouth, you realize the impact of them. Fuck. What did you just do? This is going to be the moment that you’ll lose Lando. You already feel him straighten up, sitting more straight then before. Slowly you seat yourself different as well. Lando looks in your eyes and you can’t look away.

“That’s a dangerous thing to say,” Lando replies.

“I can’t unsay it I guess,” you sigh, “This is just great. I fucked up something even more important now.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Lando comforts you, “but you need to explain what happened and what you mean.”

You sigh again.

“I told Pierre I didn’t want to date him, I thought our ‘dates’ were friendly. Then he got mad. He started to talk about all the money he spend on me,” you explain slowly, “I told him I could pay him back, but that wasn’t what he wanted. I don’t know what happened, but I do know I lost a friend.”

“And then I started thinking about you. How I blew you off multiple times because Pierre asked me to do something, I was afraid that I lost you as well.”

“Pierre’s a dick,” Lando scoffs, “and you can’t lose me. No matter how hard you’ll try, you can’t lose me.”

You let out a couple sobs. Lando pulls you closer to himself again.

“What do you mean with wanting me?” He asks you.

“Fuck Lan,” you sigh, “I’ve been in love with you for like forever.”

Lando doesn’t know what he just heard. He asks you again. And again. You keep telling him the truth.

“Fuck,” he says after a while.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, “I knew telling you was a mistake. Please stay my friend.”

“Max was right,” Lando says.

You look at him, confused by the deeper meaning behind his words.

“I should have told you,” Lando continues, “Then all of this would never have happened.”

“Told me what?” You ask confused.

“I’m in love with you,” Lando confesses, “I’ve been for the longest time. That’s why I didn’t like all of your dates, including Pierre.”

Saturday - August 2023

“It always turns me on when you massage me,” Lando confesses.

You laugh softly.

“Remember than one time you massaged me?” You ask Lando. He’s quick to nod. “We both have that problem.”

“Maybe I can massage you again tonight?” Lando suggests.

“That sounds amazing.”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut

1K notes · View notes

roosterforme · 1 year

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The Younger Kind Part 11 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When you realize Bradley still has the dating app on his phone, you start to think he's never going to take you seriously. But then he surprises you in the best way, and it turns out he's a pretty great study partner, too. Meanwhile, Bradley is starting to think the longer he puts off talking to Meredith, the worse things will become.

Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4600 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

You and Bradley had been texting nonstop. Occasionally he would just check in with you and ask how your day was going. Sometimes he would send you a funny story or a picture of Noah. And then once, when you asked him sweetly, he sent you a dick pic to which you replied with a photo of yourself in the shower.

When he texted you on Tuesday evening asking if you could come over on Wednesday, you immediately agreed. You didn't want to invite yourself over to his house, but you'd been itching to go back and see them. Your boys.

I'll be there, Daddy. Do you want me to make dinner?

Bradley Bradshaw: I didn't want to ask. I should be a capable adult by now. But HELL YES, Noah and I both want you to make dinner. I'll order some groceries on my phone.

You laughed at his old man tendencies and the fact that they both liked it when you cooked for them. Then you started thinking about what might happen after Noah went to bed for the night. You groaned; you had an exam early on Thursday morning, so you'd need to get a good night's sleep.

You didn't even know exactly where you and Bradley were at the moment, but you hoped you were headed down the road to a relationship with him. Something exclusive. Something where you could spend time with him and Noah on a regular basis.

You stopped back at your place after class on Wednesday and quickly changed into a sundress and touched up your makeup. You put some lip gloss on and grabbed a bag of Skittles with a smile. You considered stopping for coffee, but you were anxious to get to Bradley's house, so you skipped it.

When you let yourself in the front door, you could hear them playing with blocks; you were so used to the sound of Noah destroying the towers after he built them. "Hello?" you called out, and Noah was racing into the living room.

You scooped him up into your arms and held him tight. "Watch any good princess movies without me?" you asked as Bradley came strolling in as well. He looked so good in his snug jeans and black undershirt, your mind went blank for a beat.

"Hey, Princess," he said softly, stopping just a few inches away from you. He was looking at you with a soft smirk on his lips, and you couldn't help but think about Saturday night on the floor.

"Hi, Daddy," you said with a smirk of your own, and his eyes went a little wider. "How's your week been going?"

You knew exactly how his week was going, because he'd told you this morning that he masturbated to the photo you sent him while he was in his own shower. But you held Noah in your arms and both of you looked up at him with questioning gazes.

Bradley shook his head slightly. "My week has been excellent so far, Princess. Thanks for asking."

"I love to hear that," you replied, and then you kissed Noah's cheek. "I have a coloring book for you. Wanna see?"

"Yes!" Noah cheered, and you took him to the kitchen table. When you procured from your bag a beach themed coloring book, he got right to work.

"And I have something for you," Bradley rasped. "Wanna see?"

You pressed your lips together and hummed. "Right now? In the kitchen?"

Bradley chuckled and pulled you closer to the counter. "It's nothing dirty," he whispered in the filthiest voice, and then he handed you a vanilla latte from the coffee shop. As always, Princess was scrawled across the cup. You took a sip while he drank from one that said peasant.

"I thought you were the knight," you remarked, blowing on your hot drink.

"I'm waiting for you to upgrade me permanently," he said with a wink, pulling his phone out of his pocket and messing with it while you drank your delicious coffee.

Bradley set his phone on the counter, and you glanced back to see that Noah was coloring nicely by himself. You grabbed the fabric of Bradley's shirt and pulled him closer, pressing your lips to his in a soft lingering kiss.

"Missed you," he whispered, and when you smoothed his shirt out for him, your eyes caught on his phone screen.

The dating app was still there. And so were the app notifications. Your coffee soured in your stomach as you saw someone named Julie send him a message before the screen went black.

"I don't even know how to cook half of the stuff I got, but I figured you'd be able to figure something out," he told you, opening the refrigerator and shrugging. "We'll eat whatever you want to make."

Well now you didn't feel like cooking shit for him! You could leave. There was nothing keeping you here. Not Bradley who would never take you seriously.

But there was something keeping you here. Noah turned and looked at you. "Can you make food? For later? And ants on the logs?"

You sighed and nodded at him. "Of course, Noah. I'll make you some ants."

You brushed past Bradley to look inside the refrigerator for yourself. At first glance, you knew you could make them some spaghetti, tacos or hamburgers. In an effort to make sure Noah was well fed, you wanted to stay long enough to make all three and pack the food in plastic containers, but you couldn't even look at Bradley now as he was back on his phone.

You pulled out ingredients to make tacos, adding the carrots and peanut butter for Noah's snack to the counter as well. When you started browning the meat and cutting up the carrots, Bradley came to stand behind you, rubbing his mustache along your neck. You tried to shrug out of his grasp, but his fingers on your arm felt so nice.

"Hey, baby?" he asked, his damn phone still in his hand. You finally pulled away from him and turned to look up at him.

"What?" you asked a little harshly.

His eyes narrowed at his phone screen. "I can't figure out how to get this damn app off my phone, and the notifications keep popping up when I'm trying to watch the Nationals highlights. Can you help me?"

Bradley held his phone out to you, and you carefully took it. There were countless notifications for the dating app at the top of the screen, and messages kept popping up. You looked up at his completely relaxed face.

"To be clear, you want me to help you delete the dating app?" you asked cautiously.

"Yeah," he confirmed, with a casual nod. "It's annoying."

You caught sight of a message from Charlotte who was trying to introduce herself to him. "Bradley, you've got tons of women contacting you."

He leaned closer to you and said, "Yeah, I know." Then he pointed at the screen. "See?! The damn notifications keep covering the MLB scores!"

It took all of your willpower not to kiss his mustache off. "Want to watch me delete it so you know how to remove an app for next time? I won't always be around to help you with your phone, Grandpa."

His eyes drifted from his phone in your hand to your face. "Grandpa? I thought I was Daddy."

You looked up at him innocently. "Now watch closely. Oh wait, do you need to put your hearing aids in?" you asked, annunciating every word slowly.

"You're obnoxious," he whispered, kissing your cheek.

"Can you eat tacos with dentures?" you asked, still speaking loudly.

He glared at you, trying not to smile. "Can you just delete the app?"

"I would love to," you told him, kissing his lips before showing him how to remove it. And then the app was gone, along with all the messages and women trying to chat him up. It felt like the air in the room was easier to breathe. Like a pressure had been lifted off your chest.

"The Padres beat the Blue Jays," Bradley told you, pointing at the screen.

"You amaze me," you told him, cutting up a tomato as you smiled. "You can operate a sixty million dollar aircraft, but you can't cook or use a smartphone."

Bradley tossed his phone onto the counter and carefully took the knife out of your hand and set it down on the cutting board. Then he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you back against him. "I'm good with my hands," he murmured, letting said hands drift down to the hem of your dress. "Precise. Quick, but not too fast. Decisive."

You were practically panting as he rubbed your thigh with his big hand. Bradley's fingers brushed along your bare pussy, and he groaned in your ear.

"I'm hungry," Noah whined, and Bradley pulled himself away from you.

"Dinner is almost ready," you promised, and Bradley sat down next to Noah to help him color a pelican.

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

Bradley knew for a fact that you weren't wearing anything under that little dress. You were just flouncing around his kitchen, sipping a latte and fixing his phone, and you weren't even wearing any underwear.

Fuck. You were perfect.

"Here's a taco for you, Noah," you said, placing a plate in front of him which was lined with ants on the logs as well. "And two tacos for Daddy," you said with a smirk.

"Thanks, Princess," Bradley said, letting his hand stroke your knee before you turned to make yourself a plate of food. When you sat, he asked, "Are you free on Friday? I have a late flight simulation, but we could have pizza night again."

You smiled as you picked up a taco. "Yeah, I'm free. How late is your simulation? Want me to pick Noah up from daycare?"

He paused with his food halfway to his mouth. He could avoid the daycare late surcharge. He would know that Noah was safe with you, waiting for him to get home. "You wouldn't mind doing that?"

"Mind?" you asked, leaning toward Noah as he smiled at you while he ate a carrot. "I've been saving a special coloring book for just such an occasion!"

Bradley nodded. "I'll add you as an authorized pickup person."

The three of you finished eating in silence, the kind of silence that was pleasant. And then Bradley sent you and Noah in to watch a cartoon while he cleaned up. He listened to you and his son singing that ridiculous dinosaur song while you carried him to the couch, and it made him clean the kitchen faster so he could join you.

He turned on his coffee maker and checked his phone only to find three missed calls from Meredith. Her relentlessness was concerning to him. He was probably going to have to call her back soon and let her get this out of her system. He could call her this weekend. There was no way he would actually let her see Noah, but Bradley could handle one, short phone call. Five minutes of him telling her how much of a handful Noah was, and she'd disappear for another twelve months.

When Bradley carried two mugs of coffee into the living room, he found you with Noah sitting on your lap, watching a Mickey Mouse cartoon. You had your arms wrapped around Noah, and he was laughing. Your eyes met Bradley's, and you smiled at him when he handed you a mug that said Wanna see my cockpit?

You read it before you took a sip. "Yeah, actually, I do. Can I come to the naval base?"

He settled down on the couch next to you with his own drink. "You want to visit me at work?"

"Yeah," you replied with some hesitation in your voice. "Unless you only gave me this mug as an innuendo?"

Bradley grinned in spite of himself. He needed to make sure he wasn't setting himself up for failure here. One glance at Noah and anyone could tell he was attached to you. But honestly, so was Bradley. "You can see both cockpits, Princess."

Your soft laughter as your glossy lips met his mug had him leaning in to kiss your bare shoulder. He inhaled your scent as your eyes fluttered closed. The way you were drinking your coffee as casually as you could while Bradley ran his fingers underneath the strap of your dress was turning him on. He let his fingers trail down your arm, taking your hand in his, as he drank his own coffee and watched Mickey Mouse.

"It's almost bedtime, Noah," Bradley told him, taking your empty mug along with his and standing. When you didn't let go of his hand right away, it made him smile.

"One more?" Noah asked.

"Yeah, Daddy, just one more show?" you pleaded, pouting your lips up at him.

He shook his head at the two of you and said, "Fine. But just one more."

Noah picked another Mickey Mouse show, and then he asked, "Will you get our crowns?"

"Yeah, I'll go get them." Bradley leaned down and kissed Noah's forehead before taking the mugs to the kitchen sink. Then he stopped in his bedroom and collected his crown and Noah's from his dresser. Then he gently pulled yours down from his bedpost and took all three back to the living room.

Bradley set the yellow crown on Noah's head before putting the green one on himself. Your purple crown was starting to get bent, and there was a small rip in it, so Bradley was sure to be delicate as he sat down next to you again and placed it on your head.

"Princess," he whispered, stroking your cheek with his knuckles. You turned your head and kissed his hand, and Bradley sat with one arm around you until the cartoon ended.

Bradley knelt in front of Noah. "Let's get your teeth brushed and get you in bed, bub," he whispered, and Noah scurried into his arms before he stood. Bradley looked down at you on his couch, your dress bunched up around your thighs and your eyes alert. "Please tell me you're staying a little longer?"

"I have an anatomy exam tomorrow morning, but I can stay for a little while."

Bradley nodded before he left to get Noah's teeth brushed and changed him into pajamas. "I love you," he whispered against Noah's cheek as he tucked him in, but he was already falling asleep.

Bradley set the yellow and green crowns on Noah's dresser before pulling the door shut behind him. He stood in the hallway for a few seconds and adjusted himself in his jeans. Just thinking about you on his couch had him hard. But he couldn't just go in there and fuck you. No. That's not how things worked with you. There was always something else involved, like the ease with which you teased him or the seductive way you fed him Skittles.

"Fuck," he grunted, taking off to see if you were still on the couch. But you were standing and picking up your tote bag. At least you hadn't put your shoes on. Or taken your crown off.

You turned and met his eyes and held up a bag of Skittles. "Wanna help me study?"

He let out a deep breath. "Anatomy?" he asked with a smirk. "I think you and I might be good at that."

"I think you're right," you agreed, opening your notebook and handing it to him. "It's on the musculoskeletal system."

Bradley skimmed the page and looked at you. "I have an idea," he whispered, reaching for the Skittles. "May I?"

You held the bag out for him, saying, "You're still at a fifty percent cut, but only for a probationary period. Don't you dare try to take more than that." Your grin was irresistible as Bradley took the candy from you. That purple crown on your head made him feel like he had claimed you for his own.

But when Bradley set your notes and the Skittles on the couch and took off his shirt and jeans, the grin disappeared from your face.

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

Bradley was undressing down to his briefs, and you were aching with need.

"I thought we were studying," you asked, ready to pull your dress off as well if that's what he wanted.

He took your hand and guided you to the couch. "We are, Princess." He sat down, legs splayed wide, and pulled you down onto his lap so you were seated on his thigh. Your hand came to rest on his shoulder as he opened the bag of Skittles and glanced at your notebook on the cushion next to him.

You kissed his cheek and said, "I think I like studying with you."

"Focus, baby. Where's my serratus anterior muscle?"

You had to bite back a moan as you looked at his body. He was stroking your thigh gently with his thumb as you ran your fingers along his ribcage. "Right here."

"Good girl." This time you did moan while Bradley very gently placed a yellow Skittle between your lips. You chewed it up as he glanced back down at your notebook. "Pronator teres?"

You ran your fingers along the inside of his elbow, and this time you earned a purple Skittle.

"Deltoid?" he asked softly, and you let out a little gasp as your fingers drifted along his perfect shoulder. "You're so smart," he praised, hand feeding you a red Skittle as you turned to straddle his hips and pressed yourself against his hard cock through his underwear.

"Bradley," you whined, his hands on your thighs heavy and warm.

"Trapezius?"

You bent closer to him until your lips were drifting along the perfect muscle between his neck and his shoulder. You kissed him before pulling away.

"Right there, Daddy." His cock jumped inside his briefs in anticipation as he fed you a green Skittle.

"Omohyoid?" he rasped, stroking his hands higher on your thighs.

You kissed his neck just below his chin, gently sucking on him. His groan made you bolder, and you gently bit him there before sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

"So good," he whispered, and you took an orange Skittle from his hand. "Abductor?"

You pulled his hand from your thigh, found the correct muscle in his wrist, and kissed him there. When you grinded down on his cock, you nibbled on his wrist while you looked at him. His eyes were filled with lust as he watched you work your lips on his skin, and you desperately wanted to feel him inside you.

When you released his wrist, he held a red Skittle out on his palm, and you pulled it between your lips. Then you kissed him softly, letting him take the candy between his lips and eat it.

You and he repeated this with an orange one followed by two purples and a green. He put them gently between your lips before you fed them to him with a kiss. Bradley's hand found its way under your dress, and he started stroking his knuckles along your clit.

"Princess," he groaned, slipping a finger inside you as he kissed your cheek and adjusted your crown. "God, baby. You always gonna get this wet for me?"

Your notebook ended up on the floor along with the empty Skittles wrapper, and you were slipping your hand inside Bradley's underwear and pulling the elastic below his balls. "You make me wet," you whispered, now riding two of his fingers as you stroked him.

"Will you let me fuck you again, baby?" he asked, pupils blown wide as he finger fucked you just right. But you knew his cock would be even better. You pulled your dress over your head and tossed it, careful not to hurt your crown, which you left on. And then you were completely bare for him, running your hands along his shoulders and biceps.

"Yes," you told him, "I want you to. So badly." His eyes were raking all over your body, dipping down to watch his own fingers, wet from your pussy as he withdrew them from inside you. He coated his cock in your arousal, and you were moaning as you got yourself in position.

Bradley pressed himself up against you, licking his fingers clean and smirking. You took him inch by inch, keeping your eyes on his, until you were surrounding his cock with your body. When your eyes shut and your head tipped back, Bradly took your chin in his sticky fingers and forced you to look at him. "Do you have any idea how good you feel?"

You whimpered, shimmying your hips until he was buried so deep. "Tell me, Daddy."

He kissed you, letting his hand slide down your body, pinching your peaked nipples before settling on your hip. His kisses were soft, almost lazy, and he guided your hips in a rolling rhythm. He tasted like Skittles. You rode him nice and slow, gasping into his mouth.

"You're heavenly, Princess. I could fuck you all day, stay buried deep like this."

You whimpered, louder this time, as his lips skimmed down your neck. He was all lips and teeth, nibbling and tasting you from your collarbones down to your nipples.

"Bradley."

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You had the tightest pussy and most perfect body Bradley had ever experienced. He was trying to think of ways to keep himself hard as long as possible, because he was pretty sure he'd work up the stamina to fuck you all night if he could. You were that good.

He watched your head lull to the side, your crooked crown still on your head as you rode him so well. "Oh my god," you moaned, half lidded eyes widening as Bradley grabbed your hips and fucked up into you, hard.

"Keep going, baby," he told you, mesmerized by the bounce of your tits each time he bumped you a few inches higher. "You get what you need."

You shook in his arms and leaned forward to kiss him. "Daddy," you whispered against his lips. "Please. I'm so close."

Each rub of your clit against him had you getting a little louder now. Bradley put his mouth back on your tits, sucking and licking, bruising you as you whined his name. You were so responsive to his touch and his lips.

"Tell me what you want," he growled, feeling the first flutters of your orgasm.

You were bouncing hard and fast on him now, but you took his hand in yours and guided it to your clit, making him smile.

"I'll take care of you."

"Please!"

As Bradley stroked you with his fingers, you cried out, squeezing harder, burying your face against his neck. You were keening for him, grinding down as you came with shaking legs.

"Daddy," you whispered, panting softly next to his ear, and Bradley was positively dying to slam his cock into you. "Take what you want from me, Daddy."

He squeezed both of your thighs, keeping himself buried deep inside you, and flipped you onto your back along the couch. You looked up at him above you with wide eyes, your crown askew. "I wanna fuck you hard," he growled.

"Oh!" you whined, still so tight around him as he pushed harder into you. "Do it."

With one knee on the couch and one planted firmly on the floor, Bradley held your legs together to the side and slammed into you. You were so loud, all wide eyes and surprised smile as he railed you good.

"Bradley!" you cried out in surprise when he dipped down to taste your bouncing tits, and your fingers tangled in his hair. God, he loved this. He kissed your neck, inhaling your scent, and then he softly kissed your whole face and even your crooked crown as he slammed you into the couch cushions.

"I'm gonna cum," he groaned, and you wrapped your sweet hands around the back of his neck and kissed him, swallowing all of his grunts and tasting his lips. He filled your pussy, his thrusts slowing as he fucked his cum deeper inside you.

Bradley pressed his lips to your chin and looked up at you. Your chest was a little sweaty beneath his palm, and you were holding him in place with your leg wrapped around him.

"You okay, Princess?"

You nodded, working the crown almost completely off your head. "I liked that."

Bradley groaned. He couldn't remember ever being with a woman like you. You liked to tease him, but you still told him exactly what you wanted and what pleased you.

"You made sure I came first," you added, stroking your fingers along his forehead and up into his messy hair.

"I always will. Every time, Princess. Try my best to make sure you feel good."

Your expression was dreamy, and Bradley had kissed off all of your lipgloss again. He wanted to invite you to sleep over, but he knew you had your anatomy exam the next morning. With a soft kiss to your lips, he pulled himself out of you with a groan, missing your body immediately. Then he stood and pulled you up to your feet as well.

"I know you have to get up early for your exam, but you can stay and sleepover with me if you want," he whispered, holding you against him.

You looked up at him with your innocent face. "Another night."

Bradley kissed your cheek and nodded. He helped you get dressed, and he scooped you up in his arms and carried you out to his car. "Friday, when I get home from my flight simulation, I think we should talk, Princess. We'll have more time then."

"Okay." Your voice sounded breathless and hopeful.

"Good luck tomorrow. I'll be thinking about you."

"See you on Friday," you said with a smile as you started your car. When Bradley walked back inside, he locked the door and then picked up your crown and took it back to his bedroom.

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On Thursday morning, bright and early, you sat in a lecture hall, taking your anatomy test. You breezed right through the questions on the muscular system, imagining Bradley's gorgeous body splayed out on his couch for your academic needs.

You bit your lip as you marked down your final answers, recalling the way it felt to brush your lips along the stubble underneath his chin. Your body was a little sore from how rough he got with you, but it felt so good. Because he was also so sweet. He said he would always try to make you cum first. Good God, Meredith was a fucking moron. If you ever ran into her, you might even have to tell her that to her face.

You knew you were falling for Bradley. Hard. Him and Noah both. You loved being at Bradley's house, sipping on coffee and coloring with Noah. You loved cooking meals there. It was much better than your tiny rental. So much better than being alone.

When you finished your exam, you checked your phone.

Bradley Bradshaw: You're so smart, you'll do great. I'll stop by in the morning after I drop Noah off at daycare and put the carseat in your car so you can pick him up.

You wrote back as you made your way across campus.

See you tomorrow, Daddy.

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They feel like they are in a good place. Get ready for the angst! Enjoy your babysitter fic which you help me write, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 12

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radiant-reid · 2 years

Text

An Out of The Ordinary Meeting

Summary: Derek sets Spencer up with a friend of his... an ex-girlfriend, who also knows another member of the BAU personally

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (fluff)

Content Warning: couple of suggestive comments

Word Count: 2.5k

Masterlist | Navigation

Since Spencer confided in Elle about his struggles to get a date, she has been a little worried about him. After three years, he has roots in DC and is an eligible candidate for a girlfriend. Even if he's not saying anything, she can tell he wishes he had someone, someone to talk to and spend time with.

So, like any good friend, she hates a plan with someone with a lot of dating experience. "We need to get Reid a girlfriend." She tells Morgan.

"What, he can't do it himself?" Morgan asks.

Elle glares at him but answers honestly. "No, I don't think he can."

"Exactly." He says. "How could I possibly help him? You've got to admit he's awkward with girls." She nods in agreement. She had seen it before. Even if he wasn't interested in dating them, he couldn't talk to them. "He's uncoachable."

She shakes her head, trying a different strategy. "Surely you know someone who would date him."

"Yeah, maybe, but I'd have to whisper in his ear what to say." He disagrees. "And I do not want to be doing that at the end of the night if you know what I mean."

Unfortunately, she did know, and she didn't like that. "Yuck!" She exclaims, but she spots a reinforcement. "Garcia." She calls their friend over.

"No, no, no." Morgan shakes his head.

"What's wrong?" Elle teases as Penelope joins them.

"You're playing dirty getting my baby girl involved." Morgan answers.

Penelope frowns at both of them. "Involved in what?"

"Reid's dating life." Elle says, determined to talk first to get her point across. "He needs to meet someone and Derek is refusing to help."

"I practice charity in other ways." Morgan defends himself, promptly getting jabbed in the ribs by Penelope. "Ouch."

She scowls at him. "You need to help him out." She instructs him. "He might be awkward but he's sweet and he deserves to have someone great. Introduce him to someone, although you should tell me her name first so I can double-check."

If Morgan thought he was losing to Elle, he knows he's got no chance of opting out if they're both in agreement. "Alright, fine. I might know someone." He concedes. "Not sure she'll even agree, though."

"Oh, there's a story there." Penelope, although not a profiler, catches his tone.

Morgan sits down at his desk, sighing. "Yes, there is."

One of the last people Y/n is expecting to get a call from one random Tuesday night is Derek Morgan, but she answers, feeling more worry than she feels bothered. He wouldn't call unless something had happened, which is probably the only reason she kept his number. "Hey, Derek." She says, crossing her legs where she sits on the couch.

"Y/n, hi." He replies. "How are you?"

It's not what she was expecting him to ask. "Good. Is this an annual booty call?" She wonders playfully. There's no bad blood, but they didn't stay friends after the breakup.

"It's not." He assures her before adding a typical Derek Morgan line. "Unless you want it to be."

She scoffs, shaking her head even though he can't see. "Nope, sorry, D. Why'd you call?"

"I need a favor." He tells her.

"For me to sleep with you?" She wonders, both of them laughing.

"For you to sleep with someone else." He says. "Eventually."

She frowns at what he's saying, unsure about what his game is. "Like you're a pimp?"

"Like I'm cupid." He returns quickly. "I'm trying to find you your soulmate."

She laughs slightly at his offer. "That's an awful lot for my ex-boyfriend to be doing for me."

"I promise there's no other game here," Derek says, and she's inclined to believe him. "He's a good guy, smart, respectful, heroic."

"I usually go for gym-loving black belts with muscles for days." She jokes. "He sounds maybe more like your type."

He laughs at that, shaking his head. "So you'll go out with him?" He asks hopefully. He hears her sigh through the phone. "One date, and if he's the worst date ever, I'll stay out of your love life. And when you get married, I want to be the best man."

"Whoa, slow your roll, cowboy." She stops him. "I'll agree to meet him, but I really don't think you should be meddling in my love life."

He chuckles. "It's a little unconventional." He agrees. "Also, you know I'm a Bears fan."

It's hard to forget. "Chicago through and through."

"Tuesday night, I'll text you where." He tells her. "Wear something sexy."

"Derek Morgan-"

"Bye."

Her growling gets cut off by his farewell, and she knows he hung up smirking.

She’s not sure why she agrees, but she has time to think about it over the next few days. Maybe it’s because she wanted an excuse to get out of HITT with her colleagues. If it is Derek, and she’s 50% sure it’s going to be, she can make him pay for a delicious lobster dinner, flirt with him, and leave him hanging, and if it’s not… well, she just hopes Derek’s friends are hot, then the evening might have a fun ending.

He’s picked an upscale restaurant- somewhere she wouldn’t pick if she had to foot the bill entirely- and she’s glad she put on fancier make up after work as well as pulling out a new dress, figuring it might as well get some wear.

“Derek Morgan for two.” She tells the hostess. “Or maybe Y/n L/n?”

“It’s under Derek Morgan.” She informs her, slipping out from behind the desk to guide her to the table. “You’re the first to arrive.”

She’s early but being late is a Morgan move. Like the time in college when he left her in the library for an extra two hours while he was doing whatever he was doing- his hair, she had guessed- for their date. Karma got him when he failed the test she spent the time studying for.

Their table is by the window of the restaurant where she can see out at the Potomac and the setting sun. Between that and picking out a cocktail, she doesn’t notice someone’s in front of her until he clears his throat.

It is not Derek Morgan.

He's about as different from Derek as it gets.

The differences are physical, and almost nothing about them lines up, but it's how they carry themselves, too. Whoever this is isn't half as confident as Derek.

He's dressed in a suit, expensive and probably Italian. The deep blue suits him well, and between his cheekbones and styled hair, he’s gorgeous.

"I'm S-Spencer- Doctor Spencer, uh, Reid." He introduces himself with as much gaucheness as he can muster. Something about it is endearing. "You don't have to call me Doctor. Or Reid, just- just Spencer works."

She rises to shake his hand. "I'm Y/n L/n." She introduces herself. "Derek didn't tell me you'd be so cute."

And he blushes, a bright red hue filling his cheeks at the compliment. It's almost cuter than the little smile he first gave her. He clears his throat, frantically searching for what to say. "Th-thank you."

"Sit, if you like." Y/n offers, realizing he's far too timid to take control of the situation.

He's much different than anyone she's ever been on a date with, totally opposing her strong, confident type. But it's yet to work out with one of them, so she figures she should give Spencer a chance.

And he's funny. With some wine in him, he's less awkward and more comfortable cracking jokes and telling stories. He's trying to impress her, not just expecting her to be impressed by his long list of degrees and achievements. He asks all the right questions, talking about himself the right amount. She can't find anything that's a reason not to like him.

Spencer pays for dinner without a second thought, slipping his card into the bill without looking at the total. It's not sinister or with expectations of where the evening's going.

"You know I don't usually do this," Y/n says once they're back outside. "But is there any chance you're in the mood for coffee back at my place?" She offers.

He doesn't catch the implication. "Yeah, I like coffee."

They have coffee that night...and the following morning.

She's glad she followed Derek's instructions and wore something sexy. Just seeing the look in Spencer's eyes when her dress slid off, revealing deep red lingerie, was worth it.

He didn't get any less sweet during their evening together, inexperienced and nervous but so willing to please. It was perfect.

Spencer left early the next morning to get to Quantico on time, not without them exchanging numbers and ways they knew Derek. Spencer tried to keep his reaction neutral, but he didn't expect her to be his friend's ex-girlfriend.

"Why did you tell me?" He demands when sees Derek sitting at his desk, interrupting the chatter between Derek, Garcia, and Elle rudely.

"Tell you what?" Morgan asks confused, spinning back in his chair.

Spencer glares at him. "That Y/n, who you set me up with, is your ex-girlfriend." Truthfully, he's mad about it. How does he stand a chance when she dated someone like Derek Morgan?

Garcia's mouth drops open as Elle's eyes widen. "No, you didn't!" Garcia says in horror, like he's committed a crime.

And maybe it is a crime against Bro-code, although usually, the rule is against dating your friend's ex-girlfriends, not against setting your ex-girlfriend up with your friend.

Either way, it's complicated.

Elle jumps in with Garcia's scolding. "Derek, come on!"

"Hey, hey, hey." He holds his hands up in defense when he's listened to them telling him off for long enough. "It clearly wasn't a problem."

Spencer frowns as the girls do, but he's more concerned than confused. "Wh-what? Why do you say that?" He splutters out quickly, voice getting squeaky and his cheeks going bright red.

"Come on!" Derek complains. "He's wearing the same thing he wore yesterday. He just put a cardigan over top of it."

Guilty.

He's been caught red-handed, and he doesn't know what to do besides awkwardly standing there, realizing they all know he got lucky last night.

"That's... that's beside the point," Spencer says quietly, chewing on his bottom lip.

Derek laughs loudly, shaking his head while the girls tease him. "You should be thanking me, man." He reminds his friend.

Spencer is thankful and so damn grateful. He's never had a connection with someone- intellectually, romantically, sexually- like he has with Y/n.

"Thank you." He whispers quietly before taking a seat at his desk.

Elle has one last serious question. "How do you know her, Morgan?"

"College," Morgan answers briefly. "But all I'll say is I'm not the only BAU member that knows her."

He keeps to his promise, not saying anything else despite the girls and Spencer pestering him about what he meant by that statement.

Who else knew her? She's too young to have dated Hotch or Gideon, so maybe she's a friend of JJ's. That's the best they come up with.

Thankfully, they don't have to wait long because not even ten minutes later, Y/n's walking through the glass doors of the sixth floor of the FBI. Spencer, more than anyone else, is very very surprised. He expected to see her again, but right here, right now?

She walks straight over to their desks, but Morgan's the first one she greets, wrapping her arms around his neck while he hugs her back. "Hey, D, good to see you." She says.

"You, too." He replies, letting her go after a moment. "So, you know Reid." He jokes, nodding to the flustered boy genius squirming in his seat.

"Yeah." She nods, squeezing his shoulder. "How are you doing Doctor Reid?"

"W-well." He answers, beaming up at her. "Re-really good."

She smirks back at him before turning to the two very excited and slightly confused women who are watching the interaction play out eagerly. "I'm Y/n L/n, the ex-girlfriend." She nods to Derek. "And the new something." Her next nod is to Spencer.

Spencer's never been someone's something, but it sounds perfect. Elle and Garcia both excitedly shake her hand.

Unfortunately, they don't have the chance to ask all of their questions before Hotch makes himself known. "There she is!" He exclaims.

Y/n breaks away from the group, turning around to give him a hug. "Hey, dad."

"Dad?!" Spencer squeals in a whisper-yell, mostly directed at Morgan for not revealing that vital piece of information.

"Yup." Morgan agrees. "That was a surprise for me as well."

Spencer stands there petrified, looking between Y/n and Hotch. "This isn't a joke?" He asks.

"Nope," Morgan answers before filling him in on the details, finally. "Apparently, he was college-age. I met her at Northwestern Law, had no idea Hotch was her dad. It made for a very awkward reintroduction when she came by the BAU, and she had to fill him in on how I was the law school jerk she dated."

At least it wasn't that bad for Spencer. Hotch seemed to like him, but still, he might have negative feelings about Spencer being involved with his daughter.

Once Y/n is briefly caught up with her dad, she turns her attention back to Morgan. "Hey, can I have a word?"

"Sure." He agrees, following her to the conference room and leaving Spencer with Hotch.

Honestly, it's the last place he wants to be. Hotch must know. He's got to, and the more Spencer worries about Hotch figuring out he slept with his daughter, the redder and jumpier he gets.

"Reid, don't worry," Hotch says, not doing the overprotective dad speech that Spencer expected. Knowing Hotch like he knows him, there's no way he isn't protective over his daughter. Add to that two guns, and Spencer's self-preservation instinct is activated. "You can't be a worse boyfriend than Morgan was. Just treat her well, and there won't be a problem."

Spencer gulps, nodding and keeping his head down, only being able to breathe when Hotch returns to his office.

Y/n and Morgan's conversation also has one instructing, but it's Y/n instructing Morgan on something. "When the time comes, you're going to have to help him propose." She tells him, looking out the window subtly at Spencer. He's so cute she can't help her mind travel there.

"I'm a good pimp." Morgan jokes, earning himself a slap on the chest.

"Shush." She tells him. "But thank you. I know it's unconventional, but thanks for setting us up."

He squeezes her shoulder. "You're welcome."

"We're good?" She asks, offering out her hand.

Derek gives her a hug instead. "Always. Now go get your dream guy."

She nods with a smile. "I'm going to. As long as my father hasn't scared him off."

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poppy-metal · 2 months

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coming off of anon to share my thoughts here. this is a loong one but hear me out…art as joe goldberg from the tv show YOU. meets you at a tennis match or the campus bookstore and thinks you’re just so wonderful and gentle and kind, so it’s not his fault when he follows you home and watches you through your bedroom window. there are sickos out here who could hurt you, and you never seem to close your blinds. what if some pervert was watching? so he makes sure to look out for you and keep you safe <3

eventually he finds out everything about you. what you like. where you go in your free time. the friend group you have who can never cherish you like he does. finds a way to weasel his way into your life. suddenly he’s showing at the coffee shop you go to every tuesday (he recognized the background from one of your myspace posts). he’s at every party you attend, every study break you take in the library, and always finds a way to brush it off as a “coincidence”. to him…it’s fate. you two are meant to be. so what if he rushes it along a bit? he’ll make the effort for you. and you think he is just so kind and caring so of course you entertain him a little. you give him the time of day, he’s such a good friend after all.

spends hours pouring over books and articles concerning your major, just so he can ask you questions about it later. makes it seem like he’s so inquisitive to know more about your super interesting degree and begs you to explain it, even though he’s known the answer for weeks now.

at night he’s furiously pumping his cock to the polaroids he snapped of you one night when your window was open and you were undressing for bed. he has to have you. the universe has put you two together, you’re his soulmate.

that is, until he finds out you have a boyfriend. he’s reeling. that fucker must have manipulated you somehow, how else could he get into your good graces like that before art did? art thinks about your boyfriends’ hands on you and resists the urge to cut them off.

weeks pass and your boyfriend’s gone missing! they found his car near the beach during spring break and everyone’s convinced he probably went for a drunk swim and drowned. of course he would. he’s that stupid. art makes sure to be the shoulder you cry on. helps you put up every poster, attends every candlelight vigil. squeezes you tight when you break down. invites you back to his dorm for some chamomile and to vent, and art is so warm and so soft to you.

art thumbs away your fat tears and tells you not to worry, whispers everything he knows you need to hear. you’ll be fine, it’ll pass. he’ll come back to you, and if he doesn’t then a girl like you is bound to be swooped up by mr. right anyways. maybe your boyfriend wasn’t as good as you thought he was. maybe he wasn’t for you. maybe he skipped town because of the pressure. you guys have been fighting lately, right? you didn’t tell art that, but he has great intuition (he hid behind a tree and listened to you two have a bout 2 weeks ago). maybe your boyfriend wanted someone else. maybe he didn’t even love you, and you shouldn’t be worrying over him. you deserve more.

art fingers your cunt while you’re curled up in his lap. your hands are gripping onto his shirt so tightly but gosh, your pussy is choking him even the more. your orgasm washes over you and he cums in his pants just from the sight. it’s even better than he imagined.

but then you feel sooo guilty. your boyfriend’s missing! he might come back to you! it was a mistake you say, flushed and embarrassed and you scramble l back to your room like a frightened deer. art decides there and then that keeping your boyfriend blindfolded and tied up in his basement isn’t enough anymore. he’s going to kill that motherfucker the very same night. after all, he can’t be showing back up and ruining all art worked so hard for.

art is so kind ❤️

#ask #I LOVE YANDERE!ART BARK BARK BARK #kill my boyfriend!!!!! kill him !!!!!#art donaldson smut #tw dark content

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 2 years

Text

top gun masterlist

top gun blurbs

⭑ is for strong allusions to smut † is for actual smut ▸ is for a little bit of angst the rest is just pure fluff!!

Jake “Hangman” Seresin

there's also my dbf!jake seresin masterlist for anyone interested

† Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven - Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he's actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father's new best friend, Jake Seresin.

† What Happens in Cars, Stays in Cars - After a month-long deployment, Jake is finally coming back home. Well, not home home. You're too desperate to wait until you've actually got him home. But who needs home when there's a perfectly good car anyway?

⭑ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy - It’s Halloween at the Hard Deck and Jake is letting out the Texan in him. You find out that you may have a thing for cowboys - or perhaps just for Jake Seresin as a cowboy. Either way, the evening takes a turn.

▸ Same Old Truck - It’s been fifteen years since you last saw Jake Seresin. Back then, you were head over heels in love with him. Now you aren’t much better off. The only question: If it ended back then, how can you be sure it’ll last now?

⭑ Jake Seresin and the Unfortunate Hat Situation - You’re visiting Jake’s family in Texas for the first time and so far, it’s been going well. Just that Jake may have forgotten to mention the hat rule.

Blondie Fancy-Pants - You meet Jake at the Hard Deck for the very first time. Or maybe not the very first time after all. But who says first impressions can’t be disproven?

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Tuesday Night - It’s a random Tuesday night. Only that Rooster has wholly and absolutely charmed you.

⭑ Not a Coincidence - It’s not a coincidence that you turn up at the Hard Deck for a beach day. It’s not a coincidence either that you end up inside the bar all alone with Rooster. And after what happened on Tuesday, well...

† Rooster at 5, Bradley at Night - You've been hooking up with Bradley for three weeks now. You're also hooking up with him tonight.

⭑ Take Me on a Joyride - After two months of successfully sneaking around with Bradley, things finally kick off.

The Jacuzzi Incident - You spend your Christmas holidays with the squad in your uncle's cabin and sharing the jacuzzi with Bradley ends steamy in more than one way.

Oh No, There’s Only One Bed - The hotel is all booked out and now you have to share a room with Bradley Bradshaw. Worse, you have to share a bed.

Oh No, There's an Arm Around My Waist - You wake up in the same bed as Bradley Bradshaw. That's it. Or is it?

A Wedding to Remember and a Proposal to Come - You’re Penny’s maid of honour. Bradley is Mav’s best man. And after planning this perfect wedding, you’re thinking about your future with him.

† Great Balls of Fire - It’s been four months since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw. Today's the day he finally comes back from his mission and you have more than one ace up your sleeve to surprise him with.

Robert “Bob” Floyd

⭑ I’ve Always Wondered If Your Glasses Would Look Good On Me - It’s a slow Sunday morning and you get to live out a fantasy you’ve had for quite a while now.

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky

Ice Ice Baby (Series, unfinished) - You need a fake date to your friend’s wedding. Who better to ask than your coworker Ice, who you may have developed a little bit of a crush on?

True or False - After months of flirting, finally things kick off when Ice suggest playing a round of “True or False”.

all of these are x reader!!

and again: there’s also my top gun blurbs and the dbf!jake seresin masterlist

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goodstuffhappenedtoday · 8 months

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They gather to bake bread each week, then give away thousands of loaves

‘The more bread I bake, the better I feel,’ said volunteer Gary Farrah of Fredericton, New Brunswick in Canada

By Cathy Free

Monday mornings at 9 a.m., Gary Farrah ties on an apron, washes his hands and spends two hours making and kneading dough, then forming it into plump little bread loaves.

Farrah, 60, had never baked bread until about a year ago, when he heard about Bread Mondays, a community program that helps feed those in need in Fredericton, New Brunswick in Canada.

Anyone can sign up to learn how to make homemade bread at Fredericton’s Greener Village food bank. Volunteers chat around a flour-coated table while they make about 200 loaves of bread on Mondays, then they get to take home a fresh golden-brown loaf for themselves.

Farrah said kneading dough is therapeutic both physically and emotionally.

“Yes, it’s relaxing — I do enjoy the feeling of my hands in the dough,” he said. “But I also like knowing that I’m doing something that will help somebody else to have something delicious. The more bread I bake, the better I feel.”

Greener Village CEO Alex Boyd came up with the idea of teaching people to bake during the covid pandemic.

“We taped a bread-making class and put it on Facebook as a way to get people more engaged with food,” he said. “Then last January, we decided it would be a good idea to do classes in person and bake bread for our food clients who need it.”

The bread, which is made with flour, water, oil, salt, sugar and yeast, is baked in the food bank’s industrial ovens for 25minutes, then set out for Greener Village’s 2,000 client families, along with other perishable and nonperishable food, such as fresh produce, peanut butter, milk and canned goods.

Boyd, 39, said the response to the program was so great that Greener Village now offers two bread-baking sessions every Monday, plus a class on Tuesday nights.

About 10 volunteers show up each time and are taught the basics by food bank chef and kitchen manager Yves Dechaine, who adapted one of his grandmother’s old recipes for the project.

“She taught me when I was young, and I now want to pass the tradition of bread-making along, just as any teacher would,” said Dechaine, 47.

“A sense of community is what I hope they take away,” he said. “I hope it’s filling their hearts, because it’s certainly filling mine.”

more at the (free!) link

#good stuff #food #bread

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tkwrites · 6 months

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I'll Be Proud For You - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Photo from Pinterest via Bauer Hockey

Title: I’ll Be Proud For You - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (OFC)

Summary: When an opportunity for Quinn to meet her uncle arrives, Sarah jumps at the chance, and they attend a St. Patrick's Day party at her uncle's house on Salt Spring Island. On the ferry ride back home, Sarah finally explains why she had to be close to family after her mothers death, necessitating her move to Vancouver.

Warnings: Mentions of depression, grief, and meeting new family. Talks of suicidal thoughts and suicidal ideation. No attempts or methods are described or discussed.

Word Count: 5,600

Comments: I’ve been working on this fic for a long time. In many ways, it's extremely self-indulgent. I loved writing the banter between Sarah and her uncle Travis, and it was very healing for me to write about Sarah’s experiences after her mothers death.

Sarah’s experiences are very similar to the experiences I had after losing my father. My dad died three years ago in September, and I have not experienced any kind of suicidal ideation for over a year and a half. While I was in the thick of it, it felt like I was always going to be stuck in that darkness. The other side of that chasm is so beautiful and so worth the work it took to get here.

I was very lucky that I already had a therapist who could refer me to a specialist and friends and family who cared very deeply about me and my mental well-being. Seeing a psychiatrist to get on medication was one of the best decisions I ever made.

If you are having or have thoughts like these in the future, please, please talk to a friend and a professional to get help. The world is such a better place with you in it. xx

I’ll Be Proud For You

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Sarah grabbed Quinn's wrist as he walked toward the kitchen. “Do you have plans for St. Patrick's Day?”

“I think Garly's having a party. Why?”

“My uncle Travis always hosts a dinner party since we’re Irish, and I wondered if you wanted to come with me.”

“Sure.”

A smile took over her whole face, and he was instantly glad he agreed.

Internally, though, his heart was racing. Her uncle was the closest family she had nearby. When she first moved to the city, she'd lived with him for a year. She still went to his house at least two Sundays a month. Quinn knew they were close.

At least he had a while to mentally prepare.

“It’s a bit of a drive - they live on Saltspring, so we have to take the ferry.”

“Just means I get to spend more time with you,” he said with a shrug. “Plus, I like it over there.”

Her smile got bigger, and he swore his knees got a little weak. God, what wouldn’t he do for that smile?

“Is there anything I should do to prepare?” he asked, sitting next to her.

“Just wear something green. And don't wear anything that says 'Kiss me, I'm Irish' unless you actually want to be kissed.”

“Wouldn't mind being kissed by you,” he said with a wink.

Laughing, she leaned over and obliged.

He instantly wished they weren't at the dining room table so he could lay her out and kiss her like he meant it.

A few minutes later, the nagging feeling of neglecting her studying won out, and Sarah pulled away. “I'm sorry,” she said, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth, “I really need to finish this. Give me thirty minutes?”

“Then you're mine for the night?”

She nodded.

“Okay.” He kissed her forehead and wandered to the kitchen to make dinner.

As she left school for the aquarium the next day, Sarah called her uncle Travis.

“Hey, Sar, how are you doing?”

“Good. How are you, Trav?”

“Great. Samson started crawling on Tuesday.”

“What? No.”

“Yep.”

“I refuse to believe he’s crawling already.”

“I know. It’s the worst. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to let you know I'm bringing someone with me on Sunday.”

“One of your roommates?”

“No, someone I'm seeing.”

He actually seemed to choke on whatever he was drinking and coughed a few times before asking, “I'm sorry, what?”

“We've been going out for a while, and I want him to meet everyone.”

“How long is a while?”

“Two and a half months.”

“And you were going to tell us when?”

“I was waiting to see how serious it would be.”

“And it's serious?”

“I think it’s headed that way. I want to see what you think of him.”

“What's his name?”

“Quinn.”

“How did you meet?”

“At the aquarium,” she said, “he asked me out to lunch, and we've been dating ever since.”

“He lives in the city?”

“Yeah.”

“Is there anything I should know about him?”

“Just that I really like him. Please promise you won't embarrass me.”

“No can do. That's what uncles are for, but I can promise I won't pull out your baby pictures.”

“You don't even have my baby pictures.”

“Precisely. Otherwise, I probably would.”

Rolling her eyes, she asked what she could bring to dinner. After deciding she would bring the soda bread and butter, they hung up, and she sent the plan to Quinn.

Great. When should I pick you up?

I'm driving, so I'll come get you.

You have a car?

Technically, it's my uncles, but I haven't driven in forever, so I’m calling transportation on this one.

He laughed. Tocc canceled practice tomorrow so we can leave whenever.

I'll pick you up at 1 then?

What time is dinner?

5, but the drive over is 2 and a half hours, and I like to be there a little early to help out.

“Why does your uncle keep a car here?” Quinn asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

“I have parking included with my apartment, so it just made sense. I drop it off at the Ferry terminal once or twice a month for Trev when he has to come to the mainland for work.”

“I didn’t know that. Let me know next time and I’ll give you a ride home.”

She shot a grateful smile at him before looking back to the road.

It was a strange thing for Quinn to be a passenger. He was usually the one driving, and rarely got the chance to watch her for such a long period of time uninterrupted.

He was taken with her. With the constellation of freckles on her cheeks and the button of her nose, and the round swell of her bottom lip. He wondered if anyone would notice if they just made out on the ferry ride over. She didn’t have tinted windows. Probably not the best idea.

She was wearing the same green dress she’d worn when Brady came to town. It still looked beautiful and soft, and he still couldn’t stop the fantasies of stripping it off her from clouding his mind.

“How was your morning?”

“Fine.” he scrubbed his hands over his face, “It’s nice to have a day off.”

“I bet,” she said, reaching over to entwine her fingers with his.

They held hands until they hit traffic and she had to get back to the gear shift.

He’d never driven a manual transmission, and he was impressed by her seamless shifting, despite the fact that she was a bit of a terrifying driver. He found himself reaching for the door handle more than once as she weaved in and out of traffic and went a little too fast for his liking.

“How was your day?” he asked to distract himself.

“Good. I did some reading and finished up some assignments I’d put off from earlier in the week.”

“I didn’t know you were capable of putting things off,” he teased.

She snorted and threw him a sarcastic look.

“You’re so organized, I didn’t think you could.”

Quinn had seen her planner once. It was the size of a college notebook with a column for every day of the week. Each of her classes was assigned a different color, and every day was an organized riot: hours blocked for class, work, assignments, tests, and readings to be completed. He didn’t know how she got it all done. He was exhausted just reading it. Then, he’d smiled when he realized he was there. She had all his games and their plans and dates written in sparkly blue ink.

“I still miss things. Sunday is my catchup day,” she explained. “Usually, I sleep in and do my homework on the ferry over and back, but I wanted to have it done early so I could spend the time with you.”

“It would have been okay,” he said.

The smile she gave him made his heart patter against his lungs. That, along with a stop so sudden, the seatbelt engaged to snap him back, made it a little hard to breathe.

“Thank you, but I would rather spend this time with you.”

His heart warmed at the gesture, and her willingness to give up her one morning to sleep in to spend time with him.

Once on the ferry, they stayed in the car and talked instead of going up on deck. He told her about practice and trying to push aside his nerves about making the playoffs, “Everyone keeps talking about it like it’s a guarantee.”

“Well, you are second in the league.”

“Yeah, but so much could change. I don’t want to get my hopes up, and the media asks about it practically every day. I’m getting so tired of telling them, ‘that’s what we’re aiming for, and we have a group that can get there.’” He threw his voice into a self-depricating, exaggerated version of itself.

Despite her attempt to stifle it down, a giggle spilled out of her mouth. “I think they’re probably asking because it’s going to happen.”

“We don’t know that. Demmer’s out, and we haven’t been doing great…” he trailed off.

“You’re still first in the Pacific by almost 10 points, Quinn. Can’t you celebrate that for a minute?”

He sighed, “it’s just… so much can change in a month, and I don’t want to be the guy who talks about how good it will be to play in the playoffs only to have his team not make it. I’d be a laughing stock on the internet for the rest of time and a lesson to all other captains to not jinx it.”

“I’d never considered it that way.”

He made a noise of ascent in his throat.

“You can celebrate it with me, though, right?” she asked, lacing their fingers together.

Quinn wanted to agree, he really did, but the superstitious part of his mind went to war against it. The result was a kind of half-hearted grimace.

Laughter burst from her. “Fine, fine. You don’t have to talk about it. I’ll just be proud for you,” she said, bringing his hand to her mouth so she could kiss his knuckles.

His stomach did a jerking little jig, and a real smile spread over his face.

Eventually, their conversation turned to her uncle.

“Trav is a sound engineer, and he toured with Brooks & Dunn for a long time. He moved to Vancouver because he said it’s the most beautiful city he’s been to.”

“I would agree with that,” Quinn said.

“Now he stays at home with their kids. Trevor is a copyright lawyer.”

“Oh, your uncle’s gay,” he said with a spark of understanding.

“Is that a problem?” Sarah asked, raising her brows.

“No, of course not. I was just confused. You mentioned Trav and Trev, and I wasn’t sure if I was hearing his name wrong or what.”

When they pulled off the ferry, Sarah turned onto a small two lane road, running away from town. It didn’t look like anything was out here except forest and pebble beaches.

Sarah had an incredible inherent sense of direction - the kind he had to rely on his phone GPS for - so he knew they weren’t lost, but he couldn’t see anything that looked remotely like civilization.

When they turned onto a small driveway tucked right into the woods, drove up a hill, and pulled in front of a home that looked more like a cabin than a house, Quinn wasn’t too shocked.

“What a view,” he said as they got out of the car.

Despite the drizzly weather, the horizon was still stunning. The gray blue water of the Salish Sea seemed to melt into the rolling, gray clouds, making them indistinguishable except where pine covered islands rose out of the water, vibrantly green against all the neutral colors. The city skyline cut a dark, jagged edge across the water. If the commute wasn’t so long, he would live out here, too.

“I know, right?” she said, picking up a tote bag and taking his hand to lead him up to the front door.

“Hey Trav,” she said, embracing him as soon as the door was opened. “Trav, this is Quinn. Quinn, this is my uncle Travis,” she introduced when they broke apart

Other than the fact that he had her same bright blue eyes, her uncle didn’t look anything like he’d expected. Quinn had braced himself to meet a middle-aged man who was around his dads age. Instead, Travis looked no more than ten years older than Sarah. The oldest looking thing about him was his gray hair, which was casually swept back in that effortless way Quinn’s hair could never quite manage. He wore jeans and a green band t-shirt without socks or shoes. His toenails and fingernails were painted various shades of green.

“It's nice to meet you, sir,” Quinn said as they shook hands. If he wasn’t so used to seeing it, he would have missed the way Travis’s eyes widened slightly in recognition.

“Just call me Travis,” he said with a snort, trying to cover his shock. “No one has ever called me, sir in my life. Come on in.”

Trying to catch her eye as they passed, Travis wondered how, when he’d asked if there was anything he should know about this guy she was bringing, Sarah didn’t think the fact that he was Quinn Hughes was something he ought to know. She didn’t notice, and he dropped it before Quinn did.

“Beara!” a little girl yelled as she ran toward them. “Beara! Beara!” She had curly pigtails, each tied with a green bow that flopped as she ran.

“Sawyer!” Sarah caught her before they collided, picking her up and swinging her around. “I missed you,” she said, pulling the little girl against her chest.

Putting her hands on Sarah’s cheeks, she said, “missed you more.”

When she noticed Quinn, she turned her face away from him and put her thumb in her mouth, suddenly shy.

“Sawyer, this is my friend, Quinn,” she said, turning so they could make eye contact.

“Hi, Sawyer,” he said. “I like your ribbons.”

She smiled around her thumb at him. She had those same bright blue eyes, though they were slightly wider than Travis or Sarah’s.

“What do you say to that?” her father coached gently.

“Thank you.” she didn’t take her thumb out of her mouth when she said it, so it was a little garbled, but he got the idea.

Sarah set her down, and she ran back to the kitchen, squealing when Travis chased her down the hallway.

“Beara?” Quinn asked, humor in his eyes as she took his hand, following after them.

“My whole life, my nickname has been Sar Bear. When she was younger, Sawyer had a hard time saying her S’s, so she started calling me Beara instead of Sarah, and it just kind of stuck.”

He snorted, “oh god, the guys are going to have a heyday with that.”

“With what?”

“You know how they call me Huggy Bear sometimes?”

She nodded.

“Huggy Bear and Sar Bear?” He snorted, “I mean, come on.”

The house, while rustic on the outside, was homey on the inside. Neutral gray walls and a modern, light kitchen. It seemed the whole back half of the house was made of glass, giving a perfect view into the misty forest. It was beautiful, but Quinn wasn’t sure he’d want to be here at night to see what came out of those woods.

Sarah was laughing as she entered the kitchen, hand in hand with Quinn. The shock of Quinn Hughes being in his house, of Quinn Hughes dating his niece, who had always been more of a little sister to him, still had him reeling.

Even through that startling revelation, Travis wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen her so relaxed and happy since her parents died. The protective part of him held himself back from reading too much into it. The last thing Sarah needed in her life was more heartache.

“Quinn, this is my uncle Trevor.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand, but I’m a little busy,” he said, gesturing to the meat he was fishing out of a marinade. “I hope you like beef stew.”

“Sounds great.”

“And this,” Sarah picked a pudgy little boy up from his high chair, “is Samson.”

Quinn held a hand out to the little boy, who wrapped his tiny fingers around one of Quinn’s as he smiled and babbled. Samson looked more like Trevor. He had dark curly hair, dark eyes, and smooth olive skin. Quinn wondered if each of them had fathered an embryo for a surrogate.

“Can I get you a beer?” Travis asked.

“Sure.”

“We only have Guinness today.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else. It’s the Irish way, right?”

Laughing, he handed the can off to Quinn before turning to Sarah. “Hey, can you help me find the barley?”

He knew he was being obvious as he pulled her into the pantry, but he hoped this was a little less obvious than pulling her back into the living room would be. At least he had an excuse for her help this way.

As he shut the door behind them, he heard Quinn ask, “is there anything I can help with?”

Travis clicked the light on. They were standing nearly chest to chest in the tiny room, baby Samson squished between them. He didn’t seem to mind as he continued to babble, reaching out for the brightly colored packages.

“You didn’t tell me you were dating Quinn Hughes!” he hissed.

“You know who he is?”

“Everyone in this entire province knows who Quinn Hughes is, Sarah.”

“I didn’t when we met.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Why not?” If she didn’t have a baby in her arms, she would have folded them over her chest.

“You’re too busy learning stuff to pay attention to things like that. He was all over the news for three weeks when they put him in as Captain this fall. Plus, you only care about football.”

“I do not. Well, not anymore, at least,” she said, catching Samson’s hand before he could pull a box of pasta off the shelf. “Anyway, why does it matter that he’s Quinn Hughes?”

“He’s - I mean,” Travis blew a harsh breath out of his nose. “When you said you met at the aquarium, I thought he was some guy who works there, not the captain of the fucking Vancouver Canucks!”

“He's just a guy, Trav. He just happens to play hockey for a living.”

His mouth opened and closed as he seemed to realize he couldn't argue against that point. “He’s a pro athlete, Sarah.”

“So?”

“So, they’re gone all the time, and the money fucks with their heads and pretty soon they’re all cheating on their partners.”

One of her eyebrows arched up, “do you only watch reality TV, or do you sometimes deviate to Lifetime?”

Despite himself, he laughed. “I just mean,” he paused, glancing down at his green fingernails. Sawyer had insisted on painting them and pulled out every shade of green polish in the house, determined to use them all. “I don’t want you to get hurt. He treats you well?”

“Yes. Very well. I wouldn’t keep dating him or bring him to meet you if he didn’t. He's actually the best guy I've ever dated,” she added.

Travis's eyebrows shot into his gray hairline.

“Just spend some time with him. You'll see. He’s really thoughtful and nice.”

“Okay, but I’m having a talk with him by the end of the night.”

“No.”

“Listen, I just need to make sure he’s good enough for you.”

“Don’t you think that’s something I can decide for myself?”

“I’m just going to have a chat with him, man to man. You’re the one that wanted to know what I think of him,” he said. “It's happening whether you like it or not. I'm just letting you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, but don’t embarrass me. And none of that asking for permission bullshit. I'm not a possession.”

“Dont insult me,” Travis chided, smiling, loving seeing pieces of his oldest sister in Sarah. He was glad Becky had instilled those same, strong feminist values in her children. “Of course he doesn't need permission. I just care about you.”

“Thanks, Trav,” she said, touched.

He pulled her into a hug, smooshing Samson between them more. He let out a tiny grunt.

“Here, take your baby,” she said, handing him off and grabbing a box of cookies as an alibi as she left.

If Quinn thought anything was suspicious, he didn't let on, continuing to chop the lettuce Trevor had set him to preparing.

“Teddy Graham?” Sarah asked, offering the box as she stood next to him at the long island.

“Sure.”

“Hey Sar, we were thinking about coming into the city for your birthday. I have to be in that day for a few meetings, so Trav was going to bring the kids on the ferry. Do you think that would work? We thought we could take you to dinner.” Trevor said, looking up from braising the beef.

“Yeah, I would like that,” she said with a big smile.

As he walked back into the kitchen, Travis caught Quinn’s wide-eyed expression.

“When’s your birthday?” he asked, tipping the lettuce into a bowl.

“On April third.”

He gulped. It was a gesture Travis immediately recognized as a man grappling for a purchase with new information.

Quinn pulled out his phone and quietly breathed, “we’re in Arizona that day.”

“I know,” Sarah said with a smile that tried but didn’t totally succeed in covering her disappointment.

Something about it made Travis’ hackles rise. Quinn wasn't actively hurting her, but his lifestyle was.

Quinn saved her birthday in her contact card and put his phone back in his pocket. “I guess we’ll celebrate when I get back.”

“That would be nice,” she said with a smile that was genuine this time.

Travis got her a can of Guiness, and she wrinkled her nose. “Can I have whiskey?”

“You hate whiskey.”

“I’d rather it than this tar,” she said, pushing the can back to him. “At least whiskey can be mixed into something palatable.”

“Here here,” Trevor said, laughing.

Travis mimed pulling a knife out of his chest. “You’ve insulted our ancestors, Sarah.”

“Listen, the Irish invented a lot of really great things: boycotts, modern chemistry, the stethoscope, the submarine,” she said, counting them off on her fingers.

Quinn gave her a surprised look.

“I did a presentation on Irish inventions in high school,” she explained, flipping her hands, “the point is, is that their alcohol is not one of them.”

Travis laughed, taking the can for himself. “You want a ginger highball then?”

She beamed, “I think you know the answer to that.”

“What is that?” Quinn asked.

“It’s whiskey and ginger ale. It’s delicious.”

Before other guests arrived, Travis asked Quinn if he'd like to see the vintage shelby Mustang he was restoring.

Quinn agreed and gulped when Trevor asked if Sarah could help him find Sawyer. This was one of those talks. He shoved his hands in his pockets and followed her uncle out to the garage.

“Listen,” Travis said after they admired the beautiful white car, “Sarah isn't my daughter, but she means a hell of a lot to me, and I want to make sure she’s not going to get hurt. She’s gone through enough heartache already.”

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Quinn licked his lips before responding, “the last thing I want is to cause her more pain. I know she’s been through too much. I don’t know that I can guarantee she’ll never get hurt, but I can say that I would never hurt her intentionally.”

“Do you think your job will get in the way?”

“The travel definitely takes a toll. But I really like Sarah, and I think we have a lot of potential.” Times like these, he was glad for all of his media training. Not that this was anything like a press conference, but they did get him used to thinking fast and answering hard questions.

“She’s not really a model NHL girlfriend.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Quinn demanded, barely keeping a glare off of his features.

“Just that most of your lot date models that don’t have normal jobs and aren’t in school,” Travis said, fighting to keep a smile off of his face. That defensiveness answered a lot of his questions.

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” he agreed, biting down the urge to correct him. Most of his teammates were married to their high school or college sweethearts. “I like that Sarah has her own stuff and that she’s so independent. Before I met her, I dated a girl like you described, and I was always a little worried about what she was doing while I was on the road. I don't ever get that with Sarah.”

“What do you do on the road?”

“Mostly, I sleep or hang out with the guys. We don't have as much free time as people think.”

Travis was still looking at him appraisingly over the hood of the car. Had he not been exposed to Sarah’s blue, blue eyes, he would have found her uncles stare incredibly intimidating.

“Look, Sir - Travis,” he corrected quickly, “I really -” he stopped himself, not wanting to say that to her uncle first. “I really like Sarah, and we really get along. I know it’s not an ideal thing for me to be on the road during the season, but it seems to be working well so far. I want to be with her, and if she’ll let me, I’d like to be in her life for a long time. I just want to make her happy.”

Travis nodded. “What’s your favorite thing about her?” It was a question his mother-in-law asked him when he met her. It wasn’t until this moment that he realized what a telling question it was.

“She treats me like a normal person,” Quinn admitted. Even though he knew it made him sound conceited, it was his favorite thing about her. She’d never treated him like anything else than a normal guy. “And she’s interesting and easy to talk to and really respectful to people around her.”

“Okay,” Travis said, nodding, glad to see Quinn saw the same things he did. “Okay.” His face split into the natural smile he’d given Sarah when he first opened the door. “I can see why she likes you.”

Despite his attempt to stay cool and collected, Quinn felt a blush splash onto his cheeks as relief relaxed his shoulders.

“I'm not going to say I'll kill you if you hurt her, but just know she has me and Trevor in her corner.”

Quinn smiled, “I get it. I would want to hurt anyone who hurt her, too.”

The dinner party was small - no more than 10 people, and only one of them, their friend’s teenage son, Jace, gawked when he walked in to see Quinn in the kitchen. Quinn took it in stride and talked shop with Jace for a while before dinner was served and he took his seat next to Sarah, who had been watching him with a secret, proud kind of smile on her lips.

Halfway through the night, Travis looked over at them to find Quinn watching her as she talked with someone, with this quiet, infatuated look on his face. A few more of his fears were put to rest.

As he stood at the kitchen sink with his niece, drying the pots and pans she was washing by hand, he leaned closer to her, “I can see what you see in him,” he said, conspiratorially.

“See,” she said, nudging her shoulder into his as she handed him a knife, “I told you.”

“How did you manage going to school from here for a year?” Quinn asked as they pulled onto the ferry for the ride home.

“When I lived with them, they lived in the city. They needed to move into a bigger house when Samson was born. By that time, Trevor was working from home most of the time, and I was okay to live with roommates. So, I moved into the apartment I'm in now, and they moved onto the island.”

He waited until the car was parked before asking, “what do you mean you were okay to live with roommates?”

She pulled in a heavy breath. It was bound to come out eventually. May as well tell him while they had a solid hour and a half boat ride to talk about it.

“After my mom died, I really struggled.”

“Wouldn’t anyone?” Quinn asked.

Sarah pushed the seat back to give her enough room to turn and face him. Her right knee pressed up against the center console. She needed to be looking at him when she said this.

“I mean… I really,” she paused, trying to find the right words. “I remember I flew back to Hawaii a week after the funeral, thinking it was going to be so nice to get back into my routine, but I had this massive gulf in front of me and a literal ocean between me and my family. My roommates were kind of party animals, and they had no idea how to support me, and I had broken up with Kaleo, my boyfriend, before I left because he didn't want anything to do with her funeral or my grief. It felt like no matter where I was, I was just so…alone.”

It felt like someone was reaching down Quinn's throat and wringing his heart.

“I called my sister one day - I think I woke her up, which was really shitty because she had a six month old who was teething.” She laughed a little, but there was too much sadness in it for it to be convincing.

“Anyway, I called her crying because I…I started having these really intense thoughts about killing myself.”

A steep breath stuck in his lungs. He wasn’t totally sure what he thought she would say, but he hadn’t expected that.

“She flew out to be with me, and I moved home two days later. Just packed everything up and left. I didn’t even tell my boss - I was still on FMLA for the funeral, and she had to call me when I didn't show up to work the next Monday.”

“Did you ever…” he trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud.

“Attempt?”

He nodded, and Sarah shook her head, “no, but the thought of it was really terrifying. Like, I saw for the first time how someone could get into that headspace where they might take their own life. I just remember ruminating on those thoughts and thinking, ‘I don’t wanna die.’” She pressed the heel of her hand under her eye to catch some of the tears that slipped.

“How did you get out of it?” Perhaps she was just really good at hiding it, but she didn’t seem that depressed in all the time he’d known her.

“I stayed with my sister for the next nine months. I got on some meds and started seeing a therapist and a psychiatrist, and we talked through what was bringing those thoughts up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d already gone through the grief process with my dad, so I knew how awful it was. I never expected to have to go through another big death while I was still single. I thought by the time my mom died, I would have a consistent partner in my life - maybe even a family - and I just kept thinking, ‘I don’t want to do this again.’”

Quinn wanted to go back in time and make it better. Somehow make sure they met before she was in the city so he could be there for her when it all happened.

“Anyway, my psychiatrist told me our brains are basically just big problem solvers. You give it a problem, it wants to fix it. So when I kept telling myself, ‘I don’t want to do this again,’ my brain was just coming up with the swiftest solution for me to not have to do it again. When I changed the way I was thinking about it and started giving myself some more grace, those thoughts lessened a lot.”

God, she was even stronger than he thought.

“Even with all that stuff, I still really wanted to go to grad school, and my therapist and my psychiatrist agreed that it was best for me to have a goal to work toward, even if it meant moving away from home. I was really scared that if I moved out totally on my own, those feelings would come up again, and no one would be around for me to talk to about them, and I might hurt myself. But I couldn't study the ocean in Nevada. My brother actually suggested UBC and living with Travis. I called him to see what he thought. I hadn't even applied, but I didn't want to if I didn't have a plan for when I got in. I pitched that I could be a nanny of sorts when I wasn't in school. They told me they’d love to have me stay with them. I applied and by some miracle was accepted on the first try, and the rest is history,” she said, shrugging.

“Do you…” he paused, not totally sure how best to ask this. “Do you still think about it?”

She shook her head, “not much anymore. Every once in a while, it comes back when a big grief marker comes up, or I get really, really stressed or anxious, but the thoughts are always really fleeting.”

Even though it meant the console was pressing into his stomach, and she was pitched back slightly, Quinn leaned over to gather her against him. “I can’t believe how strong you are.”

“It’s not like I had any other choice.”

“Clearly you did,” he said, reluctantly settling back into his seat.

“I didn’t,” she said, voice quiet but firm. “There was no way I was going to put my family through another death, and like I said, I didn’t want to die. I wanted to not be in pain anymore, and those are very different things.”

“I just think you should be proud of yourself, that’s all.”

“I mean, I am proud that I got out of it, and proud that I know how to ask for what I need now, but being strong in the face of death is just something you have to do. There’s no way out but through.”

“Fine,” he said, repeating her action from earlier and bringing her knuckles to his lips, “I’ll be proud for you.”

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starryeyedjanai · 1 year

Text

surface-level freak

kinktober prompts: teratophilia, rimming, prostitution (3 for 3 today!) explicit | 7k tags: werewolf eddie, transmasc human steve, full shift werewolf sex, vaginal and anal sex, creampie, come eating, somnophilia, little bit of spit kink and crying notes: full tags and cw are on ao3, but the gist is steve gets fucked by eddie while eddie is a fully shifted werewolf

read on AO3

This isn't exactly where Steve thought he'd end up in life, but he's absolutely not complaining.

What started as a desperate need for money after being disowned has turned into something he thinks he'd do for the rest of his life if he can.

The first time he gave a, probably subpar, blowjob in exchange for cash, he'd been scared out of his mind, dropping to his knees and trying to remember what Tommy liked the few times they had fooled around.

The first time he had a werewolf client, he didn't know that it would become his niche, his specialty, but it did. He took his first knot and took it well, and got paid handsomely for it.

That guy had friends, other werewolves who were lonely and yearning for someone to sit pretty on their knot, and a lot of them had the money to pay for it.

And so started his career.

Steve Harrington, Werewolf Fucker.

He thinks he should be able to put that on his business card, but Robin says it's a little crass.

He's on his way to meet a new client for the first time - a famous client, if his connection is telling the truth.

He's only a tiny bit wary, phone in his hand poised and ready to hit his proverbial panic button should he need it. Not that he thinks one of his clients would lie, necessarily, but when he said he had a famous werewolf that might be interested, Steve was imagining some commercial model or something, not Eddie Fucking Munson from Corroded Coffin.

He gets to the cafe and finds it eerily empty when he steps inside. It's nine in the morning on a Tuesday - people should be standing in line waiting to get their coffee. Which tells him this is the real deal.

Eddie Munson meeting him in a crowded cafe seemed like an odd choice when he texted him that they needed to meet somewhere in public first.

There's one table occupied when he scans the room and he marches over to it.

"You know, part of the reason for meeting in public is so that I'm not alone with a new client I don't know," he says, sitting down across from Eddie.

Eddie pushes his sunglasses up and back, pulling his hair out of his face.

"I couldn't really meet you here without having the place empty," he says with a grimace. "My fans are great, but I didn't exactly want to be talking with you while also trying to sign autographs."

Steve can appreciate that, he guesses. Still.

"You should have told me." He doesn't like not having the upper hand, especially with new people.

"Sorry," Eddie says sheepishly. "If it helps, my guy and your friend are standing right by the door."

Steve looks back and sees Robin and the tallest guy he's ever seen standing in front of the entrance. Robin waves when they lock eyes. Steve waves back, letting her know it's all good.

"Okay, fine. Apology accepted. Robin told you my rates. What were you thinking?" he asks, getting to business.

Eddie looks at him seriously and says, "Knotting, of course."

"Of course." People didn't come to him and pay his rates for nothing - knotting is par for the course.

"I was thinking the 17th. I leave for tour on the 19th, but I have no time between now and then to spend a whole night with you."

The whole night, Steve thinks. God, he's in for a treat. Most of his clients have him for a few hours, long enough to fuck him and knot him, sometimes long enough to spend a while cuddling after, but a whole night is going to absolutely fuck him up. He'll have to tell Robin not to schedule anything the few days after that.

When Steve doesn't say anything, Eddie continues. "And since it's the whole night, I want both of your holes." Steve tries to suppress the shiver that makes its way through his body at the sound of Eddie's voice. "I'll want to rim you, get you ready for me. And I'll probably want to eat you out after I come in you."

"That all sounds good. If you knot me twice in a row, I might fall asleep on you though," Steve says, intimately familiar with how his body responds to being rigorously fucked and knotted.

"Would you be okay with me eating my come out of you while you slept?" Eddie asks and Steve visibly shivers, unable to stop it this time.

"Yeah, that would be okay," he says, almost breathlessly.

It's not that he doesn't normally love his job, but the prospect of spending the full night with Eddie, getting fucked into oblivion over and over and then having Eddie eat his come out of him when he's not even awake to enjoy it has him shifting in his seat, his underwear sticking wet against him.

"Oh," Eddie says like he just remembered something. "I didn't see anything in the rate sheet about full shift sex. Is that off the table?"

He's caught off guard again, it seems. No one has ever asked for that.

He doesn't come by full shift werewolves often, but the ones that he has have all fucked him half-shifted like the rest of them, just claws and fangs and extra hair and their knot. Some of them have curled around him after fully shifted, taking comfort in him for a while, but none of them have asked to fuck him while shifted. He didn't even really consider that it was an option.

Steve's nothing if not good at thinking on his feet, though. He says, "It's a special request, so you'll have to work out the details with Robin, but it's definitely something that we can do."

"I'll talk to Robin then," Eddie says, licking his lips and looking him over. Steve's never felt more like a piece of meat and god if he isn't into it.

Once the payment details have been worked out between Eddie and Robin later via email - after Robin screeches at him and Steve reassures her that, yes, it is possible and safe - Steve sees Eddie's name pop up on his calendar and tries not to spend too much time freaking out about it.

He's not nervous, exactly. There's always the jitters he gets when he's fucking a new client for the first time because what if they see his body and don't like it, what if they thought he's a major asshole, what if it's the most awkward night of his life, what if, what if, what if?

He's feeling all that plus the apprehension of doing something he's never done before. He does a lot of research in the week leading up to it, subscribes to the OnlyFans of a lovely werewolf and human couple who do full shift knotting and make it look easy as anything.

Watching someone smaller than him take a knot bigger than his fist helps settle some of his nerves about feasibility. And he's taken knotting dildos that expand larger than some of the half-shifted weres' knots he's taken. He feels better about his ability to take it when he digs out his largest knotting dildo and spends a night devolving into an incoherent mess as he comes over and over from the stimulation of the knot pressing on his g-spot.

When the night comes, he gets himself ready to the best of his ability. He fingers his ass open in the shower thoroughly since Eddie requested that he not use lube before coming over and then slips a plug inside that's coated in the slick from his cunt.

Because he's been dripping slick in anticipation for days now. Thinking about it even remotely has him wet and open and aching about it, craving something inside him.

He gets a Lyft over to Eddie's place, or a place that Eddie's rented for the night - he's not sure.

When he steps inside the apartment building and is led to the elevator by the same comically tall man from before, he puts his game face on. Tonight is definitely going to be interesting, if nothing else.

Eddie opens the door to his apartment and ushers Steve inside. "Good to see you," he says, voice nervous, like he wasn't sure Steve was going to show.

"Good to see you too," Steve says, and it's not a lie. He's excited and nervous and horny and he's sure Eddie can smell all of that on him.

Eddie looks good. Steve takes a good look at him while he's grabbing some water bottles to bring to the bedroom.

He's not as put together as he was at the cafe. He's wearing a well worn shirt and soft looking sweatpants. He's barefoot and casual and this whole look is really doing something for Steve.

That, or the fact that he's about to get dicked down within an inch of his life. He's so fucking ready for this.

Eddie leads him to the bedroom, not really making small talk, which is much more pleasant than if he were. Robin always gives new clients the run down, but some guys don't really understand that he isn't there to be anything but a good fuck. He doesn't want to be anything else or for anyone to get any wires crossed. He knows he owes them a part of himself, but there are parts of himself that he doesn't share and doesn't care to know about in return.

And especially with someone new - Steve doesn't know him, so he doesn't really care how his week went other than if he was thinking of Steve. He isn't interested in hearing anything that's not related to him getting fucked right now, because it's the first time, because he doesn't have that kind of relationship with his clients - the ones who try to know more about him or get him to participate in knowing more about them quickly learn his boundaries.

"You can, uh, take your clothes off if you want," Eddie says as he closes the door behind them and Steve grins.

He's used to people wanting to get right down to business so he doesn't bother with elaborate outfits or lingerie unless requested. They both know what they're here for.

He strips down quickly and efficiently under Eddie's watchful eye, folding his clothes as he goes, placing them on the dresser he's standing by.

He lets Eddie look his fill, lets him drag his eyes up and down his body, as he walks towards him.

When he gets close enough, Eddie puts his hand on his hip and Steve shivers from the condensation left there by the water bottle he just set down on the nightstand.

"You're beautiful," he says, leaning in to press his mouth to Steve's neck, his lips right below his pulse point. He kisses down Steve's neck, his other hand coming up to grip the curve of his ass possessively.

Steve's cunt clenches reflexively at the gesture. Part of what does it for him, through all of this, is the feeling of being owned, feeling like he's owned and wanted, desired.

Eddie's fingers delve between his cheeks, looking to pet over his asshole, and he makes a surprised noise against Steve's throat when he feels the plug.

"I don't smell any lube on you," Eddie says, pulling back to look at him as he tugs at the plug lightly, too light to pull it out, but enough for Steve to feel the stretch of it wanting to slip out.

He shivers and says, "I didn't use any at your request. Not any that my body didn't create at least. And it's not a big plug, but I don't know how big your knot is and I wanted to prepare myself at least a little."

He's nervous he messed up or did something Eddie didn't like, but he was told to specify what he wanted beforehand and he didn't say Steve couldn't, so...

Luckily, Eddie just grins at him and tugs him closer so he's nearly pressed flush against him. He slips his fingers further between Steve's legs and says, "I think I want this hole first," petting over his cunt. "And I said I'd rim you before I fucked your ass to get you ready. I was thinking about doing that full shift if you're okay with it."

Steve can't help the way his entire body buzzes at the thought. "That's- yeah. Yes," he says intelligently.

Eddie's mouth twitches up like he's amused, but the hand on Steve's hip comes up to cup his neck and pull him into a kiss, so he can't be too mad about it.

Eddie kisses him deeply right from the jump - tongue pressing inside his mouth immediately, heads tilting so they can both lick deeper. Steve rests a hand on Eddie's shoulder, his other hand pressing against the front of Eddie sweatpants which have tented up.

Eddie pulls the hand from between his legs back a little to play with the plug again. He holds the base and presses the little button there, starting up the low hum of vibrations that makes Steve moan softly into his mouth.

At the sound of Steve's moan, Eddie pulls away from the kiss with a slick noise. He says, "Get on the bed. On your back," and steps back, his hands falling away from Steve's body.

Steve gets on the bed. He lays back and spreads his legs, his right hand settling between his thighs, stroking his thumb over his dick slowly.

He watches as Eddie gets undressed, just strips his shirt off and pushes his sweatpants down and off to show off his body.

He's not shifted at all yet so he doesn't have much body hair other than a light dusting of hair on his arms and legs and a thick thatch of hair above his frankly gorgeous dick.

His dick is thick - not the longest he's ever seen, but he's got girth and Steve's cunt clenches at the thought of how much bigger it's going to get when he shifts. Even half-shifted, he'll be bigger, stretching out whatever hole he wants to fill. When he's fully shifted-

He doesn't even know how he's going to manage not immediately coming all over his dick as soon as it gets inside him.

He didn't get into this particular line of work because he was anything other than a size queen. He knows this about himself and he luckily has the clientele to make sure that he never has to go without being filled again.

Eddie climbs onto the bed with him after grabbing a bottle of lube.

It's not a brand he's familiar with and when Eddie sees him looking, he says, "It's a brand made 'by weres for weres', kind of thing. Regular lube, even unscented, has a weirdly strong scent."

Steve hums. "I'll have to look into that," he says, trying to make a mental note to get the name of the brand before he leaves tomorrow.

He gets between Steve's thighs and tosses the lube up near the pillows next to the one Steve is resting his head on.

He leans down and presses his mouth to Steve's throat again, breathing in his scent briefly. There's a rumbling noise low in his chest as he does, not quite a growl, but Steve knows he likes what he smells. He probably wouldn't be here right now if Eddie didn't like how he smelled.

"Wanna put my mouth on you," Eddie says, lips dragging along his collarbone.

Steve nods eagerly. "You can. I want you to."

Eddie kisses down his chest and Steve feels the moment Eddie starts to shift, his teeth becoming sharper as he nips at his hip bones, his nails becoming claws as his hands push his thighs open wider.

He looks down and groans at the sight. Where Eddie's body was sparsely covered with hair before is now covered in it. His chest, his thighs, his arms, probably his back too - all covered in thick hair.

With his legs spread wide, thighs pressed into the sheets, he knows Eddie can see how wet he is, can smell it too - not just his slick, but his arousal. He feels like he's choking on it and he doesn't have the same senses as a wolf, so he can't imagine how thick the smell of his arousal must be right now.

The plug is still vibrating inside him, but it's not big enough and the vibration isn't strong enough to really be doing much for him.

Without much fanfare, Eddie dips his head and laps at the wetness between Steve's thighs, pulling another groan from deep within him. Steve reaches up to grab the pillow underneath his head so that he has something to hold onto as Eddie licks from his cunt to his dick and back again, one hand reaching down to play with his plug.

He presses the button on the plug again to turn up the vibration. At the same time, he presses his tongue inside him, and it's not the same for all werewolves, but Eddie's tongue when he's half-shifted is longer than a normal human tongue.

He presses it inside and Steve's thighs shake, another wave of slick dripping out of him when Eddie pulls back.

Eddie gets his mouth on Steve's cock and he knows he doesn't stand a chance. His fists grab harder onto the pillow and he bucks his hips up into Eddie's mouth.

Eddie wraps his hands around Steve's waist and hauls him up, letting him hook a thigh over his shoulder for leverage as he fucks up against his mouth.

He sticks his long tongue out and lets Steve grind up against it, the sight of it driving him fucking insane.

He hitches his hips up, grinding against his tongue and his eyes nearly roll back when he feels the tip of Eddie's tongue teasing at his slick hole at the same time.

One hand comes down to fist into Eddie's hair, holding him there as he comes, feeling like he's going to shake out of his body. He grinds his dick on Eddie's tongue as he pulses through his orgasm, crying out as he does.

When he sinks back into the bed, breath shaky and feeling like he's going to melt into a puddle, Eddie nuzzles his face into the crease of his thigh. Steve runs his hand down over Eddie's hair, smoothing it down where he tugged it up earlier.

Eddie presses the button on the plug again, holds down for a few seconds, until it turns off, and then he dips his tongue back inside Steve's dripping hole.

Steve sighs and lets Eddie attempt to lick him clean.

When he's had his fill of sucking the slick from Steve's cunt, Eddie puts his mouth on Steve's thigh, his canines digging in as he sucks hard on the skin, marking the skin there.

He makes his way back up Steve's body when he's done making his mark on his thigh.

"Can I fuck you?" Eddie asks like the idiot he is.

"If you don't get inside me right now, I'm gonna strap you to this bed, sit on your cock until sunrise, and not let you come once," Steve says like the cock-hungry whore he is.

Eddie grins at him, baring his teeth, his canines glinting in the warm light of the bedroom. He lines his cock up and presses inside, the slide made so fucking easy from the amount of slick Steve's dripping. He's sopping wet and they both hear the loud, slick sound of Eddie's cock fucking into his core.

Eddie scoops up Steve's legs, his knees falling into the crook of Eddie's elbows as he leans down to kiss him. He fucks in deep until he's buried inside him, his hips cradled between Steve's thighs.

He starts up a slow rhythm, as slow as the kisses he presses to Steve's mouth, and it's not enough. The hair of the scruff on his face that wasn't there before is a delicious burn against the skin around his mouth, but Steve wants more. He wants to feel that burn everywhere, wants Eddie to leave him covered in beard burn, his skin raw and red from it.

The thought of that spurs him to try and get some leverage to fuck himself on Eddie's cock. Steve doesn't have that much leverage with his hips splayed out like this, but he wraps his arm around Eddie's shoulders and tries to roll his hips up anyway.

He kisses Eddie, trying to deepen the chaste kisses he presses on his mouth, but Eddie apparently wants to take his time right now.

He lets his fingertips dig into Eddie's shoulder and clenches around him, but lets him take his time getting into it.

After a minute, Eddie pries his mouth open with his tongue and presses it inside Steve's mouth. Steve groans as Eddie fucks his tongue into his mouth, nearly hitting the back of his throat and Steve is done waiting. They can take it slow in the morning if that's something Eddie wants, but Steve wants to be fucked into the mattress now.

Steve doesn't know if Eddie's taking it slow because he's afraid of losing control or if he's afraid of hurting him or something else, but either way, he begrudgingly pulls away from Eddie's mouth to say, "Remember what I said about tying you to the bed? Fuck. Me. Or I'll find someone else to do it."

Eddie sits up a little and looks down at him, like he's deciding if he's serious - he's not, of course. Eddie paid for this time and he'll gladly suffer through the slowest, most vanilla, missionary fucking of his life if that's what Eddie wants. But Steve doesn't think it is, is the thing. He thinks Eddie wants to get rough with him, wants to drag his body closer like he's a fucking ragdoll and use him, and that's why Steve's pushing so much.

"You're kind of bossy for someone who's paid to lay there and take it," Eddie says - calling him out on it - his mouth pulled up into a grin, softening the words. He rolls his hips gently, his cock dragging against Steve's hole deliciously.

"I think you're afraid to hurt me, maybe. And I'm going to remind you that I do do this for a living, so I can take it. I like it, even. And I want you to stop being so gentle if that's not what you want. I want you to press me into this mattress and fucking knot me already," he says, watching Eddie's darken at his words.

Eddie's grin slides into a smirk and his tongue slides along his left canine. He says, "I was trying to ease you into it, but if you're sure."

He raises an eyebrow at him and Steve fights the urge to say something bitchy about how he's already told him what he wants.

"I'm sure," he says instead.

Eddie lowers his body on top of him, pressing his cock all the way inside again. He leans in and takes a deep breath of Steve's scent right at the nape of his neck where it's the most potent. His entire body seems to twitch as he presses his nose into his neck and scents him.

And then it's like a switch has been flipped. Because Eddie's hands come to rest on Steve's hips and press him into the sheets. Because Eddie spreads his knees and starts fucking into Steve like the animal he is - rutting into him in quick, harsh strokes, humping him really.

And this is what Steve was waiting for. He drops his head back and can't stop the whine that escapes his lips as Eddie's dick hits deep inside him.

The only reason he's not more embarrassed about the noises that can't seem to stop is because Eddie's whining too, making these whimpering little punched out sounds as he fucks into Steve's cunt roughly.

With Eddie whining into his ear and fucking into him deep, there's no way to stave off the orgasm that sneaks up on him. He's tensing up and shaking through it before he even realizes it's coming, digging his fingernails into Eddie's back and clenching around Eddie's cock.

Eddie groans at the feeling of Steve's cunt squeezing him tightly and he presses up onto his forearms, looking down at Steve.

"I'm gonna-" he says, a moan cutting him off.

"Do it," Steve says. "Knot me."

Eddie shudders, pressing his cock in deep again, and Steve can feel the way it expands, can feel the knot forming. He manages a few more shaky thrusts before the knot catches on Steve's hole and they both groan.

He pulls it out and bullies it back in and Steve's eyes roll back at the feeling of his hole being stretched out to let him back inside.

Eddie rocks his hips now that his knot is too big to pull back out. His knot is pressing right on Steve's g-spot with every movement of Eddie's hips and he knows he's going to come on his knot before it goes down.

He swears he can feel it the moment Eddie starts to come inside him, can feel the added warmth and wetness inside him and it makes his entire body burn.

He watches as Eddie shakes through it, biting his lip, but not being able to stop the groans tumbling from his mouth.

Eddie keeps rocking his hips, his knot hitting Steve just right and pulling on his hole and Steve's tensing up again, too soon, too soon, too soon. He gasps as he starts to come again.

His body goes taut as he squirts from the stimulation of Eddie's knot pressing on his g-spot relentlessly. He quakes as he barrels through another orgasm, barely able to catch his fucking breath.

Eddie groans as his muscles squeeze his knot, trying to milk the come from him.

The pleasure is blinding and all consuming and he thinks he whites out a little, floating and weightless for a minute before he comes back down.

He lays there catching his breath, sweaty, cunt aching from being knotted up, covered in his own squirt juice, and there's no better feeling than this.

Eddie's knot is still pressed tight against his g-spot, a constant point of white-hot pleasure that he can't shake and doesn't want to.

As they come down, Eddie sits up, the motion pulling Steve's hips into his lap. Steve groans at the way the knot pulls him along with Eddie's hand on his hips.

Eddie's kneeling back on his haunches, but he straightens up so that Steve's not laying in the wet spot he made. If he wasn't supporting Steve's body with his hands on his hips, he would be dangling from his knot and that thought makes Steve's eyes roll back, his cunt clenching almost painfully around the knot inside him as he moans and comes again.

"This is what you wanted, right? To be hanging off my knot?" Eddie asks, almost snarling down at him when Steve clenches around him again.

Steve nods his head and brings his hands up, one gripping Eddie's hand on his hip, the other coming up to stroke his belly where it's bulging slightly. It's going to be so much more pronounced when Eddie fucks his ass, when Eddie's fully shifted, and Steve can't help the way he shudders thinking about it.

Eddie licks his lips looking at the way Steve pets his stomach bulge. "Wish I could feel that from the inside too. Feel you petting the head of my cock through your stomach."

The words make Steve groan again and he slips his hand down to rub at his aching dick.

Eddie puts his hand on Steve's and pulls it away, sitting back on his haunches again and hauling Steve up so they're face to face again.

He presses his mouth to Steve's again, licking inside. Their tongues press together gently, a slow, sinking kiss that leaves him breathless.

Their tongues slide together for a good few minutes as they wait for Eddie's knot to go down.

Steve can feel when it's small enough to slip out of him because it feels like a rush of wetness drips out of him.

Eddie pulls away from the kiss and says, "I'm probably going to knot for a lot longer when I'm shifted."

"That's okay. I might fall asleep if you do," Steve says, knowing he's bound to come at least a few more times and he's already feeling the exhaustion start to creep in, his body feeling the strain of their fucking. In the quiet aftermath, with Eddie fully shifted and seeping warmth, he's probably going to fall right asleep.

"I'll clean you up if you do," Eddie says and Steve groans. He nuzzles into Steve's neck briefly, nipping at the skin there, before he moves them.

Eddie pulls him neatly off his cock and deposits him onto the bed, rolling him onto his stomach. The sheets are wet beneath him, but it doesn't make sense to move because he's just going to get them wet again when he squirts on Eddie's knot again.

He feels the ripple in the air from the subtle change in air pressure that means Eddie's fully shifted now.

Eddie drapes himself over Steve's body and Steve moans at the feeling of Eddie's hairy, hairy body covering him completely. He's bigger like this, taller and wider, and it's turning Steve's brain to goo thinking about how big his knot is going to feel inside his ass.

Eddie's voice is a low grumble when he speaks and Steve shivers about that too.

"Gonna get you ready now," he growls out and all Steve can do is spread his legs further when Eddie pulls his weight off him. "Take your plug out."

He'd almost forgotten it was there, holding his ass open, nowhere near as big as what's about to come. He grips the base of the plug and slides it out before tossing it on the nightstand.

He's damn near shivering in anticipation when Eddie presses Steve's hips down and spreads him out.

Eddie ducks his head and licks at the mess between his thighs, lapping at his cunt. The feeling is so much. His tongue feels rougher than before.

Steve's cunt is so wet, from Eddie's come and from the fresh slick that drips from him as Eddie's tongue delves into him. Steve can't stop the wails that come out of his mouth.

He's crying out, almost sobbing with it as Eddie continues to lick at his sensitive hole and then as he licks inside with his long tongue, longer than his human tongue, longer than his half shifted tongue.

He licks into his cunt until he's shaking and then he spreads Steve's cheeks. Steve looks back over his shoulder and lets out a weak moan as he watches as Eddie lets a mixture of his spit, his come, and Steve's slick dribble down onto his asshole.

The tip of his tongue presses inside his ass and Steve relaxes into it. Eddie presses more of his tongue inside, more of his come and spit lubing the way.

He fucks his ass like this for a couple minutes and it feels like Eddie is lazily doing this, taking his time and trying to build it up, but Steve is on a hair trigger, has been all night.

He gets a hand under him and rubs at his cock and that's it, he's coming again, cunt dripping onto the sheets beneath him.

Eddie keeps licking into his asshole as Steve shudders through his orgasm.

He must have grabbed the bottle of lube at some point because when he pulls away, Steve feels something slick, wet, and cold being dripped onto his hole.

He looks back and almost laughs at how small the lube bottle looks in Eddie's hand. He watches as Eddie squeezes the bottle and drips lube onto his cock and he groans.

Eddie's cock like this is fucking outrageous. It's long and thick and Steve knows it's going to stretch him out like nothing he's ever experienced before, putting any time he's said the phrase 'rearranging his guts' to shame.

Eddie pulls him up on his hands and knees and notches his cock against Steve's asshole and presses the head inside slowly.

Steve breathes through it - the head popping inside makes his cunt clench in sympathy. He wonders what it would feel like inside his cunt, pressing on places that probably haven't been touched before. He shivers thinking about it.

Eddie presses in a little bit more, drizzling more lube onto his hole. He pulls out and presses back inside and Steve feels like he can't get in enough air - it's so fucking big.

When he's fully seated inside him, Steve feels overheated.

And then Eddie starts to move.

If he was overwhelmed before, he doesn't know what he is right now. There's so much to focus on - the giant cock stretching him out, the feeling of Eddie draping himself over his back, the feeling of Eddie's arm hair under his hand when he reaches back to steady himself.

Eddie takes it so slow for a few minutes, rocking in and out gently as Steve's body gets used to the intrusion.

Steve lowers his chest to the bed so he isn't supporting his weight and lets Eddie drag him back onto his cock.

He groans at the feeling, getting a hand beneath him and on his dick again. He presses two fingers inside his cunt where he's soaking wet and lets the palm of his hand rock against his dick as Eddie picks up the pace.

It doesn't take longer than another minute to come, crying out embarrassingly loud as he grinds against his hand.

That seems to spur Eddie on and he fucks into Steve harder as Steve goes lax after he's done coming.

He doesn't know when he started crying, but the pillow beneath his head is wet with his tears and Eddie's bent over and licking at his neck and the side of his face like he's trying to soothe him.

He wants to feel Eddie's knot in him as badly he doesn't know what to do with himself.

He pushes back against him, the slapping sound of Eddie's hips hitting his growing louder.

Eddie fucks into him with deep strokes and Steve knows without looking or touching that his stomach is bulging out on every fucking thrust.

He's so deep inside him. It feels like every nerve in his body is on fire with the way he's lit up from the inside out.

His fingers are still tucked inside him and he curls them up, hiccuping wetly when he presses on his g-spot. He fucks his fingers in and out, trying to match the speed of Eddie's thrusts and as soon as he feels his knot starting to form, he's squirting all over the bed again.

The knot stretches at his rim and it's like he can't stop coming, clenching over and over and over as Eddie bullies his knot inside him.

His knot already felt like it was going to split him open earlier when he was only half-shifted and now it's pressing in and in again and shattering his whole world. Steve feels his eyes cross at the unrelenting pressure.

Eddie presses it in and it catches on Steve's rim, unable to come out again so easily, so Eddie just grinds his hips against Steve's as he chases his orgasm.

Steve comes again, gasping and crying as he feels the warmth of Eddie coming inside him. He's clenching both holes, milking Eddie's knot again and he can't stop shivering and sobbing.

They stay like that until Steve stops shivering, until it feels less like he's going to float out of his body.

Eddie moves them, his knot tugging at Steve's hole, making him hiss.

He drags them off of the wet spot and under the covers that were folded on the other side of the bed.

Steve kind of blinks back into reality with Eddie spooned up behind him, nuzzling his face into his throat.

"Drink some water, baby," Eddie says to him, his voice still a deep growl, so Steve hadn't missed him shifting back yet. He's still knotted inside him, so it makes sense, but Steve's brain isn't operating at 100% right now.

They've wound up closer to the bedside table than when they started so it's not a far stretch to reach over and grab a water bottle. He sucks down half the bottle, his dehydrated body needing it.

He passes the uncapped bottle back to Eddie and bites back a quip about him needing a water bowl. He's too tired to make it funny anyway - it would probably come out sounding a little mean and he doesn't want to be mean right now.

He just wants to be wrapped up and taken care of.

Eddie deposits the water bottle somewhere and drags Steve into his arms.

The entire room smells like sex, like both of them, and he can't even imagine what that must be like for Eddie with his heightened senses. Maybe that's why Eddie keeps burying his face in Steve's neck, overwhelmed by their mingling scents and the scent of their come in the air.

He's so sleepy - the warmth seeping from Eddie's body, the exhaustion of being fucked good, and the feeling of Eddie stroking his hand over Steve belly makes his eyes drift closed. He can feel himself falling asleep soon as he settles back into Eddie's embrace.

He drifts to sleep still knotted up tight.

He wakes up soon after falling asleep to Eddie's tongue inside his ass, his human-sized tongue licking deftly over him, eating the come from his hole. He gasps at the feeling, at the loud, wet noises coming from behind him.

He's on his stomach again, so reaches his hand back and fists it in Eddie's hair.

"Hi, gorgeous," Eddie says before going back to licking and sucking at his hole.

With Steve awake, Eddie fucks two fingers inside his cunt slowly, immediately curling them down to hit his g-spot.

Steve groans loudly. Eddie sloppily eating his ass and slowly, but expertly fingering his cunt is such a good way to wake up.

Eddie licks into him over and over, his fingers stroking over his g-spot, and when his other hand comes down to stroke at his cock, he doesn't stand a chance.

It's a slow building orgasm, but he quakes and whines through it all the same. Eddie keeps licking and fingering and stroking him through it, and after another couple of minutes, he's rolling through another one, this one edging on painful - the pleasure tipping over into pain as he jerks through it.

He pulls at Eddie's hair and says, "Enough," before dropping his hand onto the bed beside him.

Eddie pulls his fingers out and Steve can hear the way he sucks them into his mouth and if he wasn't literally aching, he'd want to go another round.

He manages to stay awake as Eddie hauls him up and into the bathroom to clean up. In the shower, Eddie presses him into the shower wall and kisses him as he soaps up his body.

They fall back into the bed with clean bodies and wet hair and Steve is asleep the minute his head hits the pillow.

He wakes up in the morning with Eddie's head between his thighs again, licking into his sore cunt. He's fucking insatiable.

Steve sighs and stretches his arms out, spreading his thighs a little.

He looks down at Eddie and finds him looking back up at him, tongue licking into him with little kitten licks.

"You're going to kill me," is what he says, voice rough with sleep.

Eddie pulls his wet mouth away and grins at him. He says, "Or ruin you."

Steve shivers. He already has. How the hell is he supposed to go back to knots that aren't from a fully shifted werewolf?

"Can I fuck you?" Eddie asks, crawling up his body.

Steve pulls him into a kiss, tasting his slick on Eddie's tongue. He reaches down and guides Eddie's cock into his sore cunt, sighing into Eddie's mouth.

Eddie fucks him gently, slowly grinding into him, trading kisses the entire time.

After a minute, Eddie puts his hands under Steve's back and rolls them over so that Steve is straddling Eddie's lap.

Their lips never leave each other's as Steve rocks down against him, getting a good angle so Eddie cock is dragging over his g-spot.

The kisses turn desperate as they both get closer, Steve reaching a hand down to rub at his dick.

He comes on Eddie's cock, gasping into his mouth as he clenches around him.

It only takes another handful of thrusts before Eddie's coming too - he grabs Steve by the hips and fucks up into him, faster than before, but still gentle.

Eddie groans into his mouth as he comes inside him and they both collapse back onto the bed.

Steve lifts himself off Eddie dick and shivers at the feeling of his come leaking out of him.

"I don't suppose you'd want to clean me up before I go?" Steve asks, leaning back and spreading his legs.

He tracks the way Eddie licks his lips looking at the come dripping out of him and grins. He's got his number, it seems.

When Eddie presses him back into the sheets and licks the come dripping from his cunt and Steve starts thinking of how he's going to secure seeing him again, he supposes Eddie has his number too.

#heed the ao3 tags and notes etc #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #janai.doc

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danikamariewrites · 11 months

Note

Hiiii can I ask for poly Xaden x reader x Liam

Where the reader is dating Xaden but has a crush on Liam and it's super obvious, but they are two oblivious to realize that Liam likes the reader too.

Dating Xaden and Liam hc

A/n: I wanted to have this done Tuesday to celebrate Iron Flame but I’m celebrating all week so cheers 🥂 I didn’t intend for this hc to be super long lol

Warnings: a lil bit of angst

You started dating Xaden a little after challenges started

You had beat him a few times and he was so taken with your strength and ability to fight

The last time you had handed his ass to him Xaden was staring up at you with heart eyes

It didn’t take Xaden long to ask you out after that. He wanted to ask you in the mat still but he thought you’d turn him down and didn’t want to embarrass himself

Your relationship was great as far as war college standards go

You had flying dates, late night walks, and the occasional picnic

You are infatuated with each other

One night there was a mishap in the dorms. A fight broke out and you couldn’t get out of the sea of bodies

You were panicked and unprepared. Your body shut down on you until you felt a pair of hands pick you up, taking you away from the chaos

When you were back in your room you saw it was Liam holding you. He tried to put you down but you just clung to him, holding back tears

Liam rubbed your back whispering, “it’s ok, Xaden will be here in any minute.”

After that night Xaden had Liam guarding you when he couldn’t

You slowly found yourself falling in love with Liam the way you loved Xaden

The two of you became fast friends and had inside jokes and you just loved being around him like you loved being around Xaden

You had spent nights alone crying over your feelings

At one point you pulled yourself together, giving yourself the ‘im a badass dragon rider why am I crying over boys?’ Speech

Xaden had a free day so he decided to spend it with you meaning Liam didn’t have to follow you around

You watched Liam from afar with a sad look on your face

Xaden noticed and he couldn’t help but feel hurt. He immediately shut down and stayed quiet for the rest of the day. He didn’t even kiss you goodnight

You had a feeling it was bc of Liam. It was time to be honest about your feelings for both of them no matter the outcome

You went to Xaden’s room early. Your hands shaking as you knocked on his door. After he let you in you wasted no time getting to the point, “I want to talk to you about yesterday. My feelings have not changed for you Xaden. I love you so much.” “Then why were you looking at Liam like that?” He didn’t drop that stoic look, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

Tears started forming in your eyes and you couldn’t hold back the sob you let out, “because I like Liam too, and I don’t want to have to choose between you two. I want you both,” you whispered that last part

Xaden made no move to comfort you. He was confused and didn’t know what to do. “We’ll talk about this later. Let’s go, or we’ll be late for classes.” You nodded, wiping at your eyes as you silently left the room

The day went on like normal. Liam still followed you around which surprised you, you thought Xaden would’ve told him not to stay with you today but he probably didn’t want you to walk around unguarded

Liam joked around with you as usual. He noticed that you were down all day so he tried to make you smile

When you came out to the flight field that afternoon you saw them speaking very animatedly. It seemed like a heated conversation that you didn’t want to interrupt so you kept walking to your dragon

Before dinner Liam walked you to Xaden’s room. You knew what was coming. The conversation where you have to pick one of them and feelings get hurt. But you didn’t want to pick between them, you want both of them

You stare at the floor to avoid their gazes. You couldn’t look either one of them in the eye right now. Xaden cleared his throat, “Liam and I talked, we came to an agreement and wanted to see what you were thinking.” You look up at him confused but hopeful. “What?” You ask looking between them

Liam looked at Xaden for permission. He dipped his chin at the blonde. “If you want to, no pressure at all, we are open to the idea of both of us dating you. If you don’t want that I will back off and you and Xaden go back to how things were.”

You couldn’t believe Xaden was willing to share you. But if it would be with anyone he’s ok with the other guy being Liam

You looked at Xaden, nervous and unsure. “You’re ok with this?” He walked over to you, holding your face in his hands. “Yes. If you’re happy, I’m happy. And who knows maybe I’ll fall for Liam.” You let out a small giggle as he kissed your forehead. “Good because I didn’t think I’d be able to pick between you two.”

Months have past since then. Getting into the new dynamic was hard, especially bc Xaden is so possessive of you but having time together was easy

Both of them are absolute gentlemen and love spoiling you. Their combined efforts to give you whatever you want and put together nice dates always leave you blushing. They’re a perfect team

You’re favorite is when you all have a sleep over in your room. Being squished between these two hunks is so relaxing you always fall asleep so fast

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fluentmoviequoter · 8 months

Note

Hey could you do fluff fic for David 'Deacon' Kay x wife reader where they spend their day together after hectic week? She's school teacher. Tag me later. Thanks!!

Of course! This was a fun one; thanks for the great request!! Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!🤍 @pear-1206

Hectic Relief

Warnings: reader is an elementary teacher (I didn't specify which grade, just implied younger kids), hectic week, lots of fluffy comfort, kissing.

Word Count: 2.2k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest (it goes with the end [and makes me smile😊])

“Yes, Drew?” you ask, smiling at the young boy as he lowers his hand.

“When is Sergeant Kay visiting again?” he inquires.

“Hmm… Well, he’s really busy this week, but I’ll ask him to come back soon.”

Drew nods with a bright smile. He loves your husband, Deacon, and asks about him often. Since Deacon came in for career day, Drew and several other students have become big fans of his.

“Can he come Friday?” Drew continues.

“Why Friday?”

“It’s my birthday!”

“Oh, I see. I’ll ask him, but remember what Sergeant Kay said last time? He’s really busy at work, so he may not be able to.”

“Can’t you make him?” someone else asks. “My mom makes my dad do stuff all the time.”

You chuckle at the implication that wives have control over their husbands before gesturing for everyone to pipe down.

“I’ll see what I can do, Drew,” you promise. “But either way, I’ll make sure you have a good birthday at school.”

Drew nods, and you think the day will be easier with the idea of Deacon coming in soon. It only takes an hour for that hope to be crushed, as the week takes a turn for the worse.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon sighs. It’s only Tuesday morning, and his week is already feeling long. He hasn’t seen you since Sunday night. Yesterday, a call ran long, and you were asleep before he came in. You moved closer to him in your sleep, but he had to leave before you woke up.

“Everyone ready for another night of overtime?” Rocker cheers before pretending to cry.

“I vote we just let the criminals take each other out this time,” someone mumbles.

“If my wife wasn’t working in this city, I’d agree,” Deacon says, surprising everyone.

✯✯✯✯✯

During your free hour, while your class is with another teacher, you drop your head to your desk and take a deep breath. The kids are restless, you’re tired, and each day this week seems longer than the last. You send Deacon a quick text to let him know you’re thinking of him and love him before turning your attention to the stack of papers on your desk.

Across town, Deacon is sitting in Black Betty, wondering when he’ll hear your voice again. It feels like the longest week of his life, and each passing minute makes him miss you more. His phone buzzes, and he smiles for the first time in hours as he reads your short message. Luca slams on the brakes and yells for backup before Deacon can answer, but he knows you understand. Even if it’s unfair to you and hard on him.

✯✯✯✯✯

By Friday morning, you feel part zombie, part teacher. The small gift you got for Drew and the card you signed from you and Deacon are sitting by your bag. You hope it’s enough to cheer Drew up even without Deacon stopping by to see his favorite of your students.

“Happy birthday, Drew,” you tell him when he enters the classroom. “This is from me and Sergeant Kay. He said to wish you a happy birthday and that he’ll come visit as soon as he can.”

It’s a lie; you haven’t even talked to Deacon in days, but you know he would be here if he could. He loves the kids and would do anything to help you out.

Drew’s smile falls just enough that you notice. He thanks you, anyway, even though he’s clearly disappointed his favorite SWAT sergeant won’t be dropping by today.

“Alright, class. Who’s ready for Fun Friday?” you ask, smiling as you pray for a nice day.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon clenches his jaw as he slams back against a brick wall.

“30-David, shots fired on the 4 side,” he radios.

“Copy. Shooter on the 1 side,” Street replies.

“We’re going to be here for a while, aren’t we?” Deacon asks.

Hondo nods beside him, and Deacon prepares for another day of missing you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Drew, buddy, I know it’s your birthday, but we need to finish this lesson before recess. Let’s sit down and focus, then we can play,” you say, struggling to stay calm.

Drew huffs and falls back in his seat. When you see tears gathering in his eyes, you feel like you’re right behind him. It’s only 9 a.m., and it is the perfect, overly hectic, and stressful end to the longest week of your career as a teacher.

“I promise we’ll do something fun this afternoon, but it’s still school.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon answers the phone, suppressing a stressed yell when Hicks tells 20-David to meet 50-squad on the other side of the county to aid with a hostage situation. He leans his head against Black Betty, wondering if they’d really notice if he took the rest of the day off.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he sends you a quick text, surprised when you answer almost immediately. He doesn’t know if he’ll be home tonight, and his heart breaks at your disappointed reply, even though you try to cover it as a caring and understanding message.

Deacon knows that being a cop’s wife is just as hard as being a cop, and he wants to find a way to make it easier on you.

“Guys, I need a favor,” he calls as he puts his phone away. “I need to be home for dinner. I haven’t heard my wife’s voice in almost 5 days, and if I don’t hear it today, you’re all going to know about it.”

Luca chuckles as Street’s eyes widen. “Yes, sir,” they all say together.

“She’s braver than any of us,” Hondo muses teasingly.

“Better looking, too,” Deacon replies.

✯✯✯✯✯

The final bell rings and your shoulders slump as you say goodbye to each passing student.

“Thank you,” Drew says quietly.

“You’re welcome, Drew. I’ll make sure Sergeant Kay visits soon, okay?”

He nods. “I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“It’s okay, Drew, thank you. Have a good rest of your birthday and enjoy your party tomorrow, bud.”

Drew smiles as he nods excitedly before rushing out. The stack of papers on your desk has dwindled slowly, and you carelessly push it into your bag, unwilling to stay in your classroom for a minute longer than you have to.

Sighing in relief as you start your car, you hope to see Deacon tonight, even if only long enough to kiss him and hear him say goodnight.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Told you we’d do it,” Hondo says, clapping Deacon’s back, “now please go home. Your desperation is wearing off on us.”

Deacon would reply if he had more energy or if Hondo was wrong. He has no shame in admitting that he misses you and needs your comfort after such a hectic week with seemingly pointless chases around Los Angeles County.

He’s back to the station and on his way home to you before Luca notices he left.

✯✯✯✯✯

When Deacon steps into the house, he immediately feels lighter and happier. You look up from a paper and smile, setting it aside. Beginning to stand, Deacon moves faster than you and practically falls on top of you, pinning you to the couch with a tight hug.

You move one arm across his shoulders as he buries his face between your neck and shoulder. Running your fingers through Deacon’s hair, you relax in his embrace, and the week away seems worth the wait.

“I missed you,” you tell him, scratching his scalp.

“Missed you more,” he mumbles, tightening his grip on you.

“We should order dinner then, right?”

Deacon nods, and you smile as you pull his phone out, typing in your birthday to unlock it. Once the food is ordered, you move your hands to Deacon’s tense back muscles.

“Seems like your week was as long as mine,” you muse, gently kneading a knot in his lat muscle.

He groans before sitting up, pulling himself close to you. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, kissing his cheek quickly before asking, “How are you?”

Deacon catches your chin, pulling you in for a real kiss as he replies, “Better now.”

Once your dinner is delivered, you sit with your thigh pressed against Deacon’s as he tells you about the string of robberies and hostage situations spanning the county this week. He’s more interested in hearing about your week, so he doesn’t go into much detail before asking about you.

“Well, today was Drew’s birthday and he was pretty grumpy,” you tell Deacon, moving your legs across his lap.

“Not Drew, he’s my favorite!” Deacon exclaims.

“I think he was upset that you couldn’t come to class on his big day,” you excuse, running a finger along Deacon’s cheekbone and down his jaw as you add, “and he was tired, like someone else I know.”

Deacon nods, leaning against you.

“We should go to bed,” you whisper.

Deacon shakes his head, making himself comfortable beside you, one arm wrapped firmly around your waist to keep you close.

“If we go get ready and get in the bed, we can cuddle easier,” you bribe.

Deacon’s eyes open as he asks, “Promise?”

Chuckling, you link your pinky with Deacon’s and promise. He holds you to it, pulling you into his arms when you’re changed and ready to relax. He hugs you tightly, refusing to let go even though you don’t try to fight him.

As you fall asleep in Deacon’s arms, you whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you,” Deacon replies, entering into the best sleep all week.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you wake up, Deacon has moved you closer to him in your sleep. It’s as if he thought he’d wake up and you’d be gone. Brushing your finger over his facial features, you wish you could admire him all day, but you need to get up and get a glass of water.

As you try to move out of his grip, it tightens. You finally give up and decide to wake him up.

“Deac, baby, I need to get up,” you say gently.

“It’s been a week, you can’t leave,” he mumbles.

“I just need to get some water, handsome.”

Deacon seems to debate his options before unhooking his arms and saying, “Two minutes or I’m coming to find you.”

“I have no doubt.”

You return in less than two minutes, but when you offer to make breakfast and bring it back, Deacon rolls out of bed and sleepily follows you to the kitchen. Standing behind you, he keeps his arms around your waist as he helps you prepare breakfast, trailing kisses up your neck each time you turn your head.

“I’m glad we’re both home now,” you tell him, turning in his arms to kiss him.

“Me too,” he replies, pulling you in for another kiss.

✯✯✯✯✯

It takes hours, but you finally convince Deacon to talk about himself and his week at work. As you direct him to the patio, you find yourself in his lap, enjoying the sun after a week inside with your rambunctious class.

“You’re too good for me,” Deacon says, interrupting his story.

“You’re too good for me,” you repeat.

Deacon smiles at the challenging look on your face, aware that you will win any argument he tries to make. This conversation is practiced, and he knows how it ends: an agreement that you are soulmates, completing each other and perfect for one another.

“I think we need a vacation,” you tell him.

“Or a second honeymoon,” he suggests, kissing your jaw.

“But you have to come visit my class first or I’ll have a riot on my hands.”

“Technically, you’d have a better chance of getting me there for riot control.”

You laugh, leaning against Deacon’s chest as you kiss the corner of his mouth.

“I’ll see if I can make some time this week. For you and the kids.”

The sun dips below the hills, and you wonder where the day went, though you know time spent with Deacon always goes too fast.

“Same thing tomorrow?” you ask, pulling your legs up as Deacon nudges you to shift.

Lifting one of your legs so you’re sitting in his lap, your face just above his, Deacon smiles and answers, “Anything with you.”

You tilt your chin down, brushing your lips across Deacon’s. He sighs, raising his hands so one is on your waist and the other behind your neck. Settling on his thighs, you lean against Deacon’s chest as you kiss him, letting his love and comfort calm you from the inside out.

“I love you,” you say against his lips.

“Love you more.”

You push your hands against his chest, taking a deep breath before arguing, “Impossible.”

Deacon tilts his head, a bright smile making his eyes look deeper and darker than usual. He’s irresistible, and as you kiss him again, he promises himself not to let work get in the way like that again.

Pulling back, you suggest, “You should bring your whole squad next time, the kids would love it.”

“If we can spare the time.”

“'If'? You can't do it, not even for me?” you ask with a pout. “Your wife?”

Deacon nods, telling you he’ll find a way.

“It’s that easy,” you whisper, kissing his nose.

“Because you cheat,” Deacon accuses.

“Because you love me.”

Deacon can’t argue, so he pulls you down for a slower kiss, happy to spend another slow, lazy night in your arms before doing it all again tomorrow.

#david deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #david deacon kay #deacon kay x reader #deacon kay #deacon kay fluff #fem!reader #requests #swat cbs

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