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Conditions for Business | Yandere CEO Steve Rogers x Male Reader

Pairing: (Verse) Steve Rogers x (Verse) Male Reader

Summary: Steve Rogers is one of the most prominent tech geniuses in the United States after his idea in software broke the industry. But he couldn't have done it without the encouragement of his high school best friend and secret crush- you. Unfortunately, you and Steve had a falling out, and after that, you two were out of each other's lives for good.

At least it seemed that way until Steve needs a new assistant and posts a vague job listing on LinkedIn. Steve's surprised when your application comes across his desk, but he's not going to let you get away this time. Not without any answers, anyway.

Warnings: Another Dark Series I fear. Light for now, but I will tag accordingly.

Don't be afraid to like, comment, and reblog if you like what you're reading. Y'all KNOW I eat that shit up! It also makes me feel more reassured in my writing so help a brother out!

Disclaimer: I don't own any Marvel characters and this fic is for the enjoyment of myself and others! Don't sue me! 😃

Tagging: lemme know if you want to be added/removed for this story: @romeoandromeo , @smurfingonthem , @blurredx18 , @namjooncrabs , @glitchybrit , @awkward0ghost , @v0idl1nq, @mcahri, @hirayag, @raspberryyuuki, @aesthetic-history, @teaologyzzz, @n-e-o-w-r-i-t-e-s , @abbatoirablaze , @drainfury, @qlqstqr , @tkishcabral , @marxenash , @evilive, @baka-daa , @stevieuwu @anonymouswolf87

Author's Note: I don't know SHIT about software/tech LMAO. I didn't major in computer science and it was NOT one of my electives so if I say something that doesn't make sense, smile and scroll, y'all 😃. And sound off in the comments.

I will be posting more stuff too on both accounts so ☺️☺️☺️ stay tuned besties. Enjoy reading!

<Oh and Steve in high school/college looks like Pre-Serum Steve Rogers btw>

Read Part Two Here

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Part One: Collision Course

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There's some people out there who often lie to come off as "spicier" to their friends, as to not lose their interest. These lies can range from small white lies to far-fetched tall tales.

But there's a different group that exists out there, and their specialty is bragging about knowing someone famous, someone popular.

And they'll ham up the fact that they and the famous person attended the same school or lived in the area, just to make themselves more interesting. It comes off a bit sad, really, especially whenever everyone really knows that that person doesn't really know the celebrity and probably had only one or two conversations with them in passing.

That's why you almost never tell anybody that you know Steve Rogers, young millionaire tech mogul and bachelor, or how the two of you were good, close friends whose friendship ended on the wrong foot. Especially since the relationship ending was your fault.

"You fumbled the bag!" A friend had once laughed in your face when you had made the mistake of getting high one night and telling your past, and that experience made you clam up. Thinking back on your relationship with Steve Rogers is always a bittersweet experience that ends more on the bitter side anyway, despite it's sweet beginning.

2014, September (High School- Sophomore)

Y/N: 16 years old, Steve: 16 years old

You and Steve had met in your sophomore year of high school. It was in trigonometry class, when you were looking for someone to sit next to, and you had spotted an empty seat next to a blond teen. The teen was actually quite familiar, even if you didn't know his name, because his picture had been plastered on the school hallways due to winning awards from his participation in debate club and Model UN.

You walked over to him, and he didn't raise his head as you got near because he was completely engrossed in his journal, and when you looked closer, you see he had been sketching an image of the big tree outside the school window.

"Wow, man, that's actually pretty good," you compliment him, looking over his shoulder and the guy looks at you, startled blue eyes meeting your own.

"Hey!" He snaps, and you get where he's coming from because you just walked up on him, but you can't focus on his annoyed tone because he's kind of cute…

"My bad, man, I wasn't trying to scare you," you apologize amused, and the cutie huffs, and turns back to his drawing.

"No, but seriously, you have mad drawing skills," you insist, and the scowl on the guy's face lessens, and he looks away.

"It's just a hobby of mine," he says sheepishly and you give him a dubious look. You're not going to downplay his work, though.

"Well, you're pretty damn good at your hobby, my guy," you say and the guy gives you a small smile.

"Thanks."

"No problem," you slide into your seat, and as the classroom starts to fill up with your classmates, you turn and look at the other guy again, "what's your name by the way? I might as well know if we're going to be sitting next to each other all year." You're not smooth at all but it's not as if Steve catches on.

"Steve," he says and cranes his head towards you, "and yours?"

"Y/N." Steve smiles at you and sticks out his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," he says and you shake his hand.

You catch him looking at you throughout the class period but you think nothing of it until at the end of class, you get up to pack your bags but Steve's stopping you.

"Wait!" Steve loudly rips a sheet of looseleaf out of his spiral notebook before handing it to you, and when you look down to see what it is, you see a sketch of yourself, captured with great detail, and whoa, you're kind of honored.

"Wow, man, you know you didn't have to do this right? I don't want you to think that I only complimented you because I wanted you to draw me or something," you prattle on awkwardly but Steve's taking it stride, laughing at you.

"It's okay, I just wanted to, you know?" Steve smiles at you, and begins to pack his own book bag.

"Okay, well then, I'll treasure it!" You announce happily, and then you carefully fold the image four times before taking out the leather wallet you've received from your grandfather and placing the sketch inside the plastic front pocket so that it could be seen.

(What your wallet looks like: )

And from then on, you two became really good friends. Steve was kind, funny, passionate about societal issues, and had a personality that attracted everybody to him. Sure, he was clowned on for being so short, but nobody truly gave him shit since he was well-liked. In class discussions, everyone always wanted to listen to what he had to say, and he always had takes that were spot on. Being around him was like being around a bright light, and you know he was going places. So you cherished your time with him, chilling and hanging out with him during lunch. You two catch on like wildfire, two young teen boys who wanted to do nothing but spend every moment of time together. (He feels like a younger brother of yours, even if he's technically older by a couple of months, because he's just such a good person, and you want to look out for him.)

Sophomore year flies by, and then junior year, and senior year arrives quickly and quietly.

2016, January

Y/N: 18 years old, Steve: 18 years old

With senior year, the time you have left with Steve is suddenly cut down sharply, since the two of you are busy with college applications (the two of you had applied to all the same universities) and preparing for finals and regent exams and all of that.

You two had always used to visit each other's houses, and this time Steve's the one coming over to yours.

"You know," Steve starts while the two of you are laying on top of your bed, after playing Mario Kart.

"Yeah?" You pick up your head and look at Steve, who has a pillow tucked under his head, and he's looking away.

"I've had this idea… for some software," Steve continues hesitantly, almost shy, which is very unlike him.

"Oh? What software?" You ask, intrigued and Steve shakes his head.

"No, forget it, it's stupid-" He says, and he can't just get you all interested and then withhold this information from you!

"Oh c'mon, man! If your idea sounds stupid, then I'll tell you it sounds dumb as hell, Steve, you know me," you tell him, and Steve laughs, which is exactly you were hoping he would do. You're not used to him being so tense around you.

"Yeah," Steve sends a small smile at you before he looks up at your wall with a sigh, "I know you."

"Alright then, cough it up! Let's hear it Einstein, your million dollar claim to fame!" You tell him enthusiastically and Steve rolls his eyes.

"Well, I've been thinking about AI-" Steve starts, and you gasp.

"Oh my God, did you see those creepy ass Tom Cruise deepfake videos online? That shit give me the chills, yo. It's getting harder to tell what's real and what's fake," you blurt because you can't help yourself.

"I know! That's what I've been thinking about lately!" Steve excitedly responds, "There should be some sort of software that can scan and see if someone online is actually real." Wow.

"So like instead of weeding out bots, it'll weed out AI accounts online?" You ask, and Steve snaps his fingers.

"Exactly! It might not be very useful now, but I have a feeling it'll be handy later…" Steve trails off, and he's probably waiting for your input on his idea.

"Steve, that's a great idea! And if you don't make the app for that, someone else will, Steve!" You rolled over to look at Steve again and although your faces are super close this time, you don't look away, because you want him to see you're being completely genuine.

"Your idea really is unique, you have to start working on it instantly!" You urge, and Steve looks at you, clearly taken aback.

"Really? You mean that?" Steve asks softly, eyes searching yours and you nod.

"Of course I mean it, man!" You assure him, "And you better remember me when you become a millionaire!" You joke and Steve grins at you, a small little thing, and you're reminded of how endearing he is.

"Thanks, Y/N, you always support me when I need you most," he says and you watch his eyes flicker down to your mouth.

"Of course, Steve, you're my homeboy, you know that, right?" you say, eyes on his mouth, pink and inviting you don't know but the energy between the two of you charged and this isn't one of those little jokes. You feel the urge to get closer to him.

"Yeah," Steve says shakily, and swallows hard, his Adam apple and you're leaning in when-

"Y/N! Stevie! Come get y'all food!" Your Ma announces downstairs, and you're bouncing away from Steve a six feet in panic, feeling as if you've just snapped out of a trance.

You were just about to kiss Steve, your best friend! Where the fuck did that come from? Thank God you didn't, or you would've made shit weird.

"C'mon, let's go eat!" You tell Steve, clambering off your bed, and then you're shooting him a smirk, "Race you there!"

And then your bounding out of your room, socks sliding against the wooden floor and Steve's crying out behind you, "Hey, that's not fair! You got a head start!"

"Sounds like a slowpoke!" You tease, and Steve's right on your heels, and for an asthmatic, Steve's pretty damn fast and the two of you race downstairs, pushing and shoving at each other, trying to reach first.

"I know you two know better than to be running down those damn stairs!" Your Ma calls out, and you and Steve look at each other and burst into laughter.

"Sorry, ma'am!" Steve, always the picture poster boy of manners, apologizes, and your mother gives him a look before shaking her head, but you know her face well enough to know that she's hiding a smile.

The incident is long forgotten from your mind until a few days later, you find yourself studying Steve more, his face, his eyes, and more importantly his lips, and you don't know why.

Steve seems just so damn cute to you, lately, and you don't know why.

You resolve to try and take your time and figure out whatever it is that you're feeling before you speak up and ruin things.

What you don't know is that you're not the only one feeling this way, and that every time you're not looking, Steve's been stealing glances at you.

2016, April

Y/N: Still 18 years old, Steve: 18 years old

Months after the incident of the almost kiss, the two of you open your acceptance letters at the same time, and as Steve's face brightens in happiness, yours drops with disappointment.

"I got in!" Steve announces excitedly and you muster up a smile, "I'm so happy to hear that, Steve," but your heart's not in it, and Steve must be able to tell because his eyes are snapping up to yours.

"Y/N? You didn't get in?" Steve's asking quietly and you're shaking your head.

"Nah, man," you say softly, "but it's okay."

Steve looks at you without saying anything and then he's tearing up his acceptance letter.

"Steve!" You yell in shock.

"Fuck Cooper Union, their tech program was always overrated anyways," Steve swears vindictively and it makes you smile in how earnest he's being.

"C'mere, Steve," you tell him, and Steve cautiously eyes but steps forward and you're hugging him tightly.

"Y/N?!" Steve gasps, squirming around in your grasp, but you hold onto him. (It's honestly quite easy, as much as Steve is a spitfire, he is still small).

"I appreciate the gesture, Steve, but Cooper Union's your dream," you mutter in his ear, and Steve shakes his head.

"If they're not smart enough to realize what a great applicant they're missing out on by rejecting you, I don't want to go," Steve mumbles into your chest, and you smile down sadly at him.

"No, Steve," you rebuke, and Steve looks up at you, a stubborn scowl on his face.

"We don't need Cooper Union, Y/N. There's always Princeton University," Steve cheerfully adds and you raise your eyebrows at him because he's acting as if Princeton isn't even harder to get into.

"Steve, I would never forgive you if you reject Cooper Union," you tell him slowly, and Steve glares up at you.

"I'm not going," he tells you firmly,and you shake your head at him.

"Yes, you are," you insist gently, and you watch as Steve's big blue eyes well with tears and you have to look away to fight the urge to tear up, too.

"But we won't be together then," Steve says, and you nod.

"I know, but all we have to do is make sure we keep in touch. It's not going to be forever, Steve," you reassure him, and Steve's pulling out of the hug and wiping at his eyes.

"I guess you're right, Y/N," he sniffs, and you snort.

"I'm always right," you say, but you make no attempt to hide how trembly your voice is.

"You better come visit me, Y/N," Steve threatens tearily, "or else I'll come down here and throttle you myself," and you nod.

"Of course I'll visit you, man!"

"And you'll text me every night?"

"Maybe every other night?" You tease but Steve's having none of it.

"Y/N…" Steve glares at you.

"Okay, every night! I was just playing with you, damn!" You give in pathetically quick but you can't help it when you've been catching feelings for the guy.

"That's what I thought," Steve nods, craning his head up at you, and then that's that.

You and Steve go your separate ways, making sure to stay in contact with each other, and this lasts well up until the two of you hit your junior years in college.

2019, October

Y/N: 21 years old, Steve: 21 years old

Steve's regular roommate, Phil, moves out and into his own apartment and that's when James Buchanan Barnes, otherwise known as Bucky, walks into Steve's life and ruins your dynamic with him.

All of a sudden all Steve ever wants to talk about is Bucky "this," and Bucky "that"! It's infuriating.

Sure, you have absolutely no problem with Steve making new friends when he goes to Cooper Union, as a matter of fact, you expect it because it's Steve; he's a people magnet.

You never expected to be completely replaced, though. When you want to go on video call with him, Steve can't because "he's already agreed to do something with Bucky". When you want to catch up, Steve is suddenly interrupted by Bucky and he promises that "he'll get back to you later" and then he never does.

Soon, it starts to feel as if you don't matter as much to Steve as much anymore, and it hurts because Steve was your guy and you never thought that another guy would come in between the two of you.

So you try to lie to yourself and say that you're overreacting, that simple jealousy is clouding your judgement.

It takes one visit to Steve's dorm to set you straight, and it takes place during the week of Halloween.

The entire time you despondently watch as Steve makes moon-eyes at Bucky, who is incredibly short with you and you can't tell if it's because he doesn't like you or if it's because he's a little bitch (you suspect the latter, of course).

You and Bucky don't fuck with each other at all, and the entire time Steve is busy trying to play peacemaker and chastises you when Bucky's the one being a dick.

Steve keeps insisting that Bucky "is a nice guy once you get to know him," but that doesn't change the fact that he's giving Bucky, someone he's known for six months, the benefit of the doubt over you, his close friend of five years.

Your last straw is when in the middle of casual conversation, Steve tells you that he's been sharing his private drawings and his comics collections, the one thing he said he wouldn't ever share with someone else, with Bucky, and that's when reality hits you. You're not as special to Steve as Bucky is, and it feels like you've been super punched in the gut.

Well, that isn't actually the last straw because you take a while to process stuff so the implication of Steve showing Bucky his sketchbook had been lost on you until later.

Your actual last straw is what happens on Thursday night.

Steve has told you he was going to take you to a party, off campus but relatively nearby and you don't mind it at all.

Except he abandons you.

One second, you're drinking a concoction that tastes like lighter fuel and Steve's telling you 'he'll be right back!' and then twenty minutes later, your phone buzzes with a text from Steve apologizing and saying that he had to leave because Bucky got sick.

So you were stranded, at someone's house with no idea of how to get back to Steve's dorm, which is off-campus, and he's not picking up his phone. You had no cash, no card on hand so Uber wasn't even an option and taxis were sparse in the area.

You do what you have to. You chat up every guy within your vicinity at the party, asking them "Do you have a car?" and practically begging them to drop you off at Cooper Union's dorm away from campus, and luckily for you, a nice guy does just that, and you thank him, grateful that he wasn't a serial killer in disguise.

When you get back, you're furious.

"Steve!" You yell, pounding on the door, and Steve opens the door with a relieved look.

"Y/N! I was just coming back to get you-" you shove past him, and start packing up all your stuff. Your visit to him is over.

"Y/N? What are you doing?" Steve asks and you take a deep breath, teeth grinding against each other.

"Leaving!" You spit, and Steve steps in front of you.

"I know you're mad, but I really was going to come get you," he reasons, as if that makes the shit he pulled better.

"That's nice!" You smile at him, showing all of your teeth and Steve sighs.

"I'm sorry, but Bucky needed me," he says and it's like a flip switches in you.

"I bet he did! And in your rush to help him, you forgot all about me! Why couldn't you take me with you and Bucky again?" You ask, because he never explained that.

Steve's face turns red and he looks ashamed for a second.

"The Uber I had set only had space for two people," he meekly explains and you can't believe it.

"And you couldn't wait for another one?!" You yell and Steve looks to the direction of his room and shushes you.

"Not too loud! Bucky's trying to sleep," he hisses and you look at him, wide eyed because wow, he really is being an asshole.

"You think I give a fuck about Bucky trying to sleep right now, Steve?!" You raise your voice, and Steve shakes his head and weakly jokes with a small smile, "I guess not." You glare at him.

"You think this is funny or something?" You ask, and you walk out with your stuff to the door.

"No, but I do think you're overreacting a bit. Bucky was sick, Y/N, I had to take him home," he reasons and you're about to snarl something at him when you think of the way he said home, and then you remember all of the stuff he's said about Bucky, the way he's been acting with him and then the wind just goes out of your sails.

There's no way Steve is going to understand what he did when he's so blinded by his love for the guy that he would act in a shitty manner towards his own best friend.

"You're right, Steve. I'm overreacting, and I do apologize for that," you tell Steve sincerely, and you make a show of putting your bags back on the floor.

"Oh, good," Steve sighs in relief, eyes closing as he goes to rub at his temples.

"I really didn't want to argue with you, and tonight's already been stressful for me-" Steve rambles and you hold a hand up.

"It's okay, you don't have to explain to me," you say softly, and then you walk to the couch you've been sleeping on since the start of your visit.

"Are you sure, Y/N?" Steve asks gently, and you send him a small smile.

"I'm sure. Why don't you go to bed? I know you said you had a stressful night, Steve," you offer and Steve nods and smiles at you.

"I think I'll do that. Sorry again," he says and you say nothing as he slips back into his room.

You can't wait to return to your own campus because you hate feeling like the third wheel with your own best friend. At least, your ex best friend, because now you have to put distance between the two of you.

So you leave exactly 30 minutes after Steve has gone into his room and head right to the nearest Amtrak station, heading back to your own college campus over 100 miles away.

Soon, Steve's texts to you go unanswered by you, and his calls ignored for a week, until one day he texts you a message that makes your heart pang, and you can't bring yourself to ignore him. You pick your phone up and respond via text, because you're too much of a coward to call him and hear his voice. You can't ghost him though. He's too nice and deserves some sort of closure from his ex-bff.

Probably won't even be torn up about you since he's so far up Bucky's ass, anyway.

You don't want to be around to watch Steve fall in love with another guy.

Your phone lights up with texts from Steve...

Steve: Hey is everything good??? U left earlier than we agreed…

Steve: Look I'm sorry bro, I know I might've catered a bit more to Bucky while you were over…

Steve: Y/N?

Steve: Maybe you're busy, I'll hit you up another time then

Steve: ok it's been a week, why aren't you responding?

Steve: Look I said I'm sorry! I don't know what else you want from me.

Steve wants to FaceTime you. Accept? The screen says. You swipe right.

Declined.

Steve: Y/N

Steve: Y/N!!!! PICK UP ALREADY OR I'LL BLOCK YOU FR THIS TIME!

No.

Steve: What's going on, man? Why won't you respond to any of my messages? Am I suddenly not good enough to be your friend or something? Talk to me. I'm concerned about you.

Y/N: My bad, Steve. It's just that I've been doing some thinking lately…

Steve: You're being really weird. You've never pulled a stunt like that on me before…

Your phone buzzes and you see that Steve's trying to FaceTime you and you rub a hand over your face, stressed and you decline.

Steve: Why won't you accept my call?

Y/N: I just don't think I can say this to your face.

Steve: ???

Steve: Say what?

You take a deep breath. This is it, the moment you were dreading.

Y/N: I'm sorry, man. I never meant to hurt you. But I think you and I are two very different people right now, with two different paths…

Steve: Are you high, Y/N? What the fuck are you talking about?

Y/N: I don't think we should hang anymore, Steve. You're a cool guy, but we're different now.

Steve had certainly changed.

Steve: Is this some sort of joke, Y/N?

Steve: What? Why?

You can't just tell him that you were sick of hearing about Bucky and Steve, or how you don't want to stick around to see Bucky fit into the slot of Steve's life that you had once occupied. So you tell him some utterly unbelievable bullshit, out of self-preservation.

Y/N: It's natural to part ways with people, Steve. I hope you pursue your software program, it's a game-changer.

Steve is typing…

Steve is typing…

Steve: Fuck you. I never want to see you again.

Y/N: That's fair.

-Error- Message Not Sent.

Free Msg: Receiver STEVE unable to receive message - Message Blocking is active.

You deserved to be blocked.

Not even ten minutes later, your phone is buzzing with a message from an unknown number, probably Bucky, since you never saved him into your phone.

Unknown: You're a fucking asshole, you know that, Y/N?

Unknown: Steve's crying and he won't tell me why. I know it's because of you, dipshit.

You close your eyes as shame and guilt hit you full force. Fuck.

Y/N: It's for the best.

Unknown: What the fuck does that mean?

Y/N is typing…

Unknown: Save it. If you ever show your face around here, I'll fuck you up so bad that you'll shit blood for days. Stay the fuck away from Steve.

Y/N: I will. Take care of him.

Unknown: What? You don't get to say that like you care about him you mf.

Y/N: I do. Tell him I'm sorry.

Unknown is typing…

You block him, and that's the end of that. Five years of friendship flushed down the toilet.

Jesus.

You're going to get absolutely fucked up tonight and drown all your sorrows.

In a drunken rage, you go and dig for your wallet, snatching the sketch Steve made of you years ago, and you're going to rip it up, but something stops you and instead you silently place it back in your wallet and rub at your eyes.

"Ain't no use crying," you sigh and decide to go back to bed.

2020, May (Senior Year- College)

You're graduating, and your family and friends are cheering you on, but you can't help but feel a distinct gap in the cherished moment. And you know why, too. There's somebody missing.

Although his mother had been sweet enough to comment a "Congratulations," on your graduation picture on Facebook, it's not enough to quiet the ache in your chest that started acting up the moment you went out on that stage to get your diploma, looked out at that sea of smiling faces, heard the chorus of voices screaming your name, but couldn't see the one face you wanted to see, hear the one voice you wanted to hear: Steve's.

Steve's not there and it's all of your fault.

It did take a few months for you to be completely honest with yourself and admit that you had missed Steve, and even more months before you could admit to yourself that you were wrong for handling that situation so immaturely when a conversation would've probably resolved the issue.

So of course you had tried to reach out to Steve, apologize and explain, tell him you were being a dumb asshole, but you can't.

You're still blocked on everything. So you tried reaching out to Bucky, and the fucker's got you blocked on everything, too.

It was very clear that Steve very much wanted you to stay out of his life, so you gave him exactly that.

And now you're here, surrounded by all of your loved ones, thoughts consumed by Steve when you should be focusing on them.

"My baby's a college graduate!" Your Ma squeals, and your attention is brought back to the present, and you're smiling and posing for the photos she's taking.

You can think of Steve later.

2022, March

You're surprised when three years later after you ended your friendship, you're watching the news and none other than Steven Grant Rogers, is plastered over the news as a tech genius.

And not only that, but there's new pictures of him and FUCK, puberty hit Steve like a truck! Not that it mattered because you liked him even when he was five foot four, but growing an extra ten inches? Those biceps that told of the ability to probably bench press you? Whew…

You're genuinely happy to see that he did go forward with his software idea, and that he has a new, thriving business, but you're still forced to switch off the television. Why?

They've just shown footage of Steve with none other than Bucky latched onto his arm, laughing on the red carpet, and you can't help the bitter jealous feeling that still bubbles up, even after all of these years, because it seems that Bucky did keep true to his word of taking care of Steve.

And besides, now Steve feels miles away out of your reach, there's no hope of reconnecting when he's all the way up there, the epitome of success, and you're all the way down here, living off of two part time jobs and ramen noodles. And a bed couch that leaves your neck stiff every night.

So be it, that's just how life is…

Hope Steve's happy with his boyfriend.

Meanwhile

"Steve, Steve! Look this way!" A pap screams and Steve obliges, ignoring the urge to tell him to shut the fuck up.

"Are you okay, Stevie?" Bucky discreetly whispers in Steve's ear, a smile plastered on for the cameras flashing.

"Not here," Steve hisses, shifting to give the reporters a new angle to capture while Bucky clenches his jaw but continues to pose.

The two of them are attending an auction for charity despite Steve already donating a 100k to the foundation, but his PR agent insisted he attend, "to show that Cap Inc cares about the future generations."

Fuck the future generations, Steve has a conference call at 3am with Beijing tomorrow. He doesn't want to show up to this event when his check already cleared.

"And some of these photographers carry hidden mics," Steve hisses under his breath, "and I don't want to be someone's exposé."

"Alright," Bucky offers Steve a tight-lipped smile, and they continue to pose for the cameras, before one of the event coordinators are motioning for them to finally move on.

Bucky's arm tightens around Steve's waist before he's whisking him down the red carpet and away from the prying eyes of the public, entering the large hall, where it was much quieter, save for the quiet chatter of the city's elites conversing.

"So," Bucky hands over a champagne flute to Steve, which he gratefully accepts, "what was that just now? On the red carpet, you looked… I don't know," Bucky trails off, trying to call to mind a word to describe the emotion on Steve's face he saw earlier.

"I don't know why but I was just thinking about Y/N again, you know?" Steve discloses, taking a casual sip of his champagne, and Bucky huffs and rolls his eyes.

"That asshole? I thought you were over him," Bucky grumbles and Steve sighs into his glass.

"I know, it's just, I can't help but wonder why he threw away our friendship, threw away me," Steve says, and then he's throwing back the rest of the champagne down his throat, reaching for another glass but his efforts are thwarted.

"Okay, that's enough of that," Bucky's putting down his own glass and pushing the plate of champagne flutes further away from Steve.

"Hey! I was going to grab another one of those," Steve protests, and Bucky shakes his head.

"No, you're not, I can already see that you're going to settle into a mood," Bucky gives Steve a scrutinizing look and Steve sighs.

"I'm not, it's just Y/N would've loved to be at an event like this," Steve laments and Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose, urging the oncoming headache to go away.

"Well," Bucky takes a deep breath in and sighs it out, "Y/N's not here because years ago, he decided to be a dickhead and abandon his very good friend who later became a millionaire! His loss!" Bucky announces and Steve can't help but smile at him. Trust Bucky to talk some sense into him, but Steve just can't let it go.

"Yeah, I still wonder why he did that," Steve reveals, absentmindedly grabbing a shrimp puff pastry off an appetizer dish and popping it into his mouth, "wow, these are good."

"Dickheads don't need reasons to be dickheads," Bucky bites out and then grabs his own puff pastry, "The mushroom's better, you gotta try it."

"Well, pass me one, then," Steve reaches his hand out and Bucky diligently drops a pastry into it, "And Y/N's not a complete dickhead, you know. He told you to take care of me, didn't he? That has to count for something, right?" Steve chews on the mushroom pastry and yeah, turns out Bucky was right, the mushroom is better.

"He did care and something happened and he had to push me away," Steve explains and Bucky rubs his temples.

"I know you're still not thinking about this after three years, Steve," Bucky reprimands gently, but he's giving Steve a pitiful look, and Steve can't stand it. He snatches another glass off the tray Bucky's pushed away and downs it before Bucky can do anything.

"Lay off, will ya? I'm feeling nostalgic tonight," Steve grouches.

"No, you're probably feeling tipsy," Bucky corrects, and takes the empty wine flute out of Steve's hand.

"I'm not, but I do wish I was," Bucky watches Steve eye the remaining wine glasses, and places his arm on the table in front of them, blocking Steve from getting another.

"Well, you're not getting drunk here, think of the publicity," Bucky hisses, and his tone is serious so Steve doesn't reach for another glass.

"There's literally other CEOs snorting lines in the bathroom right now," Steve points out with a chuckle, but Bucky doesn't laugh with him.

"That's them and you're you, America's golden boy," Bucky straightens Steve's tie, "and America loves a clean millionaire okay?" Bucky pats Steve, and he sighs.

"Okay."

"Now let's go network, and see if we can add to our investor portfolio! Keep your eyes on the prize, buddy!"

"Which is charity, of course," Steve clarifies and Bucky rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, that too," he jokes, and Steve shakes his head and laughs.

"You're too much to handle, Buck."

Bucky leers over at Steve, "That's what Sam said, if you catch my drift," wiggling his eyebrows and Steve can't stand him!

"Please, spare me the details of your sex with life with my other best friend," Steve forces out as Bucky cackles, and you're no longer on his mind. Bucky's right, Steve shouldn't think about you anymore. It's time to move on.

2022, April

Tonight, your friend Monica is dragging you out for drinks so you can meet this nice girl she's been dating named Wanda, who she really likes but wants to see if you "have any bad feelings about her," because you've always been good at deciphering people's true natures.

You don't really mind, because you had recently lost your job as a tech analyst due to a business "cutting their losses" despite having quite the profitable year, so you could use the distraction. Besides, you miss hanging out with Monica, and you can use the cheering up so you had agreed. Wanda had sounded wonderful, and what would be the harm in meeting her?

At least that's what you thought until Steve is brought up in conversation.

You're pouring some Ciroc: Mango into your glass when Monica, obviously tipsy, suddenly announces to her date Wanda, "Did you know that Y/N knows THEE Steve Rogers?"

Not this again, you think to yourself and you discreetly roll your eyes as you take a sip from your glass. You've told her not to disclose this before, but you can't blame her if it's the alcohol talking. At least you know it's time to cut her off, though.

"Really? CEO of Cap Incorporated Steve Rogers?!" Wanda turns her head to you in interest, and you have to stifle a sigh.

"Yes, and I used to know him," you clarify, and Wanda raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, did something go down between the two of you or?" Wanda trails off and you shake your head, taking a small sip from your glass.

"No, we went to the same high school, but ended up going to different colleges," you indulge her curiosity and Monica side-eyes you because she knows there's more to that but you're not telling Wanda all your business when you barely know her.

"How was he in high school? Like, was he a nice guy or was he like an asshole?" Wanda asks, and then leans in closer to whisper, "Don't worry, I'm not from the press or anything, you can tell me."

"Well," you sigh, and for a second you allow yourself to reminisce, "Steve has always been like an objectively good guy. Kind, respectful, and actually gives a fuck about social issues," you reveal with a little smile, stirring your drink with your straw. Wanda looks at you while you talk and then sends a look at Monica, who discreetly nods, although you miss this exchange.

"Well, that's nice," Wanda announces, probably sensing that that's all you're going to say and smoothly changes the topic, and turns back to Monica, "now tell me more about your investigations."

"Sure!" Monica answers with a smile, reaching to take another sip from her glass, but you're snatching it away from her.

"Hey!" Monica opens her mouth and-

"That's my cue! Monica, you know all of your investigations are covered in red tape! I think it's time to call it a night," you announce and then you're side-eyeing Wanda, because she had said earlier she wasn't press, but she's awfully nosy.

You make a mental note to tell Monica to keep an eye on this one, because there's something off about Wanda, as nice as she is. Out of the corner of your eye, Wanda frowns at you but doesn't say anything.

"Really? But we just got here," Monica huffs, crossing her arms, and you shake your head. Not her pulling out bratty behavior right now…

"You see? This is what you're going to have to deal with," you quip at Wanda, who laughs into her drink.

"I think I can handle that," she smiles at Monica, and you can see the heart-eyes she's making and her smile gets even softer, and now that you're getting a good look at her, maybe Wanda isn't as sober you think she is either.

"Girl, we've been here for three hours and drinking for half as long, Monica!" You admonish Monica gently and she rolls her eyes.

"So? We're having fun, aren't we, Wanda?" She turns puppy-dog eyes at Wanda, who looks at her, transfixed.

"Yeah, we're having fun," Wanda agrees, looking into Monica's eyes and it's like she's hypnotized.

"Oh my God," you moan, "I am not trying to stay here all night!" Monica laughs and you look at her questioningly.

"Well, it's not like you have to get up early for a job tomorrow, boo!" You look at Monica shocked, not offended, because she's your girl, but sheesh!

"Damn sis, you ain't gotta do me like that!" You laugh, and Monica laughs too, but she looks a little embarrassed now.

"SORRY, that is definitely the alcohol talking, maybe you're right; it's time to call it a night!" Monica announces sheepishly, and you nod.

"See! I knew you'd see the light eventually," you get up to settle your end of the tab, and all of you are heading outside, exiting the fancy restaurant bar.

"Hey Wanda, can I stay over at yours tonight?" Monica's asking, but there's a mischievous smile on her lips.

"Oh!" Wanda looks startled, and there's a hint of pink creeping on her cheeks, but it could just be the alcohol, but the flustered look is cute on her, and you can't help but snort.

"Don't worry, I mean only to sleep, no funny business!" Monica clarifies and Wanda gets even pinker.

"I didn't expect anything else!" Wanda blurts out and Monica hums and smirks at her.

"Sure you didn't," Monica leans forward and presses her lips to Wanda in a kiss, and oh my God, you did not pay to see this happy couple BS when you're still single!

"Alright then, goodnight! Make sure you girlies have the Uber sorted out!" You declare behind them, making Monica and Wanda separate.

"Bye, Y/N! Text me when you get home!" Monica hugs you and kisses you on your cheeks and you do the same for her.

"I will!"

"It was lovely meeting you, Y/N!" Wanda calls out, and you wave at her, because you two aren't at the hugging stage yet.

"And you too, Wanda!" And with that, you head towards home, foregoing an Uber because you didn't really have Uber money after going out for drinks, and you didn't live too far away. Besides, the cool air would help you sober up, and the city really is beautiful at night.

You finally arrive at your apartment building, taking the elevator because fuck the stairs, smiling to yourself, reminiscing about the night's events right up until you remember Monica bringing up Steve, making the smile drop right off your face.

You open the door to your apartment and on wobbly feet pull off your loafers, because the restaurant Monica had wanted to try had a dress code where men weren't allowed to wear sneakers.

"She better love me after tonight," you mutter to your aching feet, before you're slipping out of your outfit and sitting on the couch. You can take a shower later, you just need a chair with actual back support first.

"Well, it's not like you have to get up early for a job tomorrow, boo!" Resounds in your head and you groan because Monica's right.

You're kind of tired of being unemployed, especially when you have student debt to pay off and a bachelor's in software engineering as well as an associate's in office management to show for it. Jobs should want you!

So, as tired as you are, you pull out your laptop and go to LinkedIn, scrolling through open jobs and positions, making sure to pay no mind to any unpaid internships.

Sure, an unpaid internship will still boost up your resume as career experience, but you need moolah right now. And besides, a lot of companies love to overwork interns with the promise of being brought onto the team at the end, typically leading for interns to become really competitive and even catty with each other just for some trust fund kid to slide in and grab the spot anyway.

Yeah, you aren't going for those at all. Doing an unpaid internship is a mistake you've made once, and you're not going to repeat it.

There were honestly very few vacancies for IT-related jobs in your area, which sucks, so you broaden your search to include office management jobs, aka your safety net.

Sure you weren't the biggest fan of working in some stuffy old office, but if it got the rent paid, you don't have many complaints. Besides, maybe you could work your way up depending on whether or not the company you joined had an IT department. You have seen places whose idea of an IT department mainly consisted of tech support being run by two people helping employees remember their user logins.

And that's when one LinkedIn posting caught your eye. It's for Cap. Incorporated, which coincidentally is Steve's company.

The listing reads:

*URGENTLY HIRING* CONFIDENTIAL TECHNICAL SECRETARY TO SENIOR MEMBER OF STAFF

Full Time

Applicant will report to the Senior Member (TBD) the Confidential Assistant performs challenging secretarial and clerical duties for the Senior Member as well as provide technical support for the Senior Member

Applicant will serve as the primary point of contact for internal and external constituencies on all matters pertaining to the Office of the Senior Member and its related programs and services

Applicant will also execute other unenumerated tasks as required.

This position entails a high degree of responsibility and use of discretion and independent judgement, while ensuring confidentiality in all work operations. Failing to meet this is punishable by 5 or more years in prison.

This position requires a flexible schedule including evening and weekend hours.

Qualifications:

Must be familiar with MS Office, G Suite (formerly known as Google Apps for Work), and Adobe Software

Must be advanced in or specialize in coding

Must have a bachelor degree in computer science or software engineering to apply*

Must have formal qualifications in office administration, secretarial work, or related training*

Must have at least three verifiable references*

Must have great communication skills

One year of experience in similar role preferred

Suggested but not required- fluency in Mandarin, Korean, and Hindu.

Salary: TBD by hiring board, negotiable

Employee Terms: 12 Months, Full Benefits, 1.0 FTE (negotiable), 12 sick days, 2 week vacation

"I can't believe this," you murmur aloud, amazed because it's almost as if this position has been curated just for you. Not only does it check all of the requirements for you, you meet all of it's requirements! And a negotiable salary? You'd be concerned if not for the fact that the position called for being an assistant to a senior member, or high ranking employee, which means the money is good! Especially, if there's a clause on confidentiality.

You quickly start to apply and you're about to submit when a little voice in your head asks: what do you do if this job means you have to see Steve, or work with him in any capacity? And you quickly dismiss it because you didn't want to jinx yourself like that. You're just applying to be someone's assistant, and just because it's at Steve's company doesn't mean you'll actually run into Steve there! Employees go years without seeing it interacting with their company CEOs, so why should this be any different?

"I'm so fucking paranoid," you chuckle, and you go ahead and submit your application. It's not like you'll hear a callback. There must be hundreds, no, thousands of applicants vying for this job who's better qualified than you.

"Yeah," you close your laptop, "let's not get ahead of ourselves." You head off to bed, forgetting all about it.

The Next Day

Steve has been having a bad morning. They messed up his order at Joe's Coffee, he was caught in traffic and was late to two scheduled meetings, his keycard refused to work and then when be got up to his office, his assistant was nervous.

"What?" He snaps at her, "There's obviously something you want to say,"

"I'm handing in my two weeks notice." She says shakily and Steve almost throws his coffee at the wall.

Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, making sure that his facial features are calm and don't relay the torrent of emotions going on underneath.

"Okay," Steve opens his eyes and moderates his tone, "may I ask why you are resigning from your position?"

"Well…" Ms. Nguyen starts, eyeing him worriedly as she wrings her hands, fiddling around nervously and Steve just can't do it.

"I don't have the energy for this," he growls and walks past her to his office, set his coffee down, and sit in his chair.

"That's the problem, Mr. Rogers!" Ms. Nguyen calls out after him, finding her voice, "You never have the energy of patience for me, or rather any of your employees. It's always 'i want this done' without any thought or regard of our well-being. We're human, not machines.

"That's exactly what a high demand job entails, Ms. Nguyen," Steve deadpans, taking a sip from his shitty coffee.

"Well I want no part of it any longer. I don't sleep well, I don't eat well, and I feel utterly consumed," Ms. Nguyen rants, and maybe Steve should have used a lighter tone. Steve gives her a tight smile.

"I'm sorry to hear that and respect your choice. I will happily be one of your references. But what about our discussions with Japan? Aren't you overseeing the Shinigami account?" Ms. Nguyen sighs.

"That will be handled in two weeks time. And I've appointed Becca to handle the interviewing process for your new-"

"No I don't think so," Steve interrupts. He's always believed in getting to personally know those working with him.

"Sir, I don't think you understand, you have over ten thousand applicants-" Ms. Nguyen tries to reason but Steve's mind is made up.

"Well, narrow down that list to fifty by Thursday by whichever means necessary- I don't care if you put all of their names into a randomizer, and have their applications on my desk. I'll see to the interviewing process myself." Ms. Nguyen's lips purse and a deep frown wrinkles her forehead.

Huh. Maybe she had a point about the job ageing her- those wrinkles weren't there before.

"I-"

"Do you think you can get it done by Thursday or not?" Steve presses, opening his planner, and paying attention to things he has to do today.

"I can get it done by today, sir," Ms. Nguyen spits out, and Steve can hear the barely restrained anger in her voice and sighs to himself. He doesn't mean to be an asshole, he just wants someone capable and sometimes being nice doesn't get you results, unfortunately.

"Good," Steve

"If that's all?"

"You're dismissed, you can go back to your station now," Steve waves his hand.

A stack of 50 applications is on his desk by that afternoon. Steve will certainly miss Ms. Nguyen's efficiency.

Curiosity piqued, Steve thumbs through the applications with the intentions to see if any catch his eye for any particular reason.

And there are some, with incredibly impressive resumés attached that Steve can't help but read through, making sure to keep those candidates in mind when he's almost near the bottom of the stack when a familiar name pops up. A name that makes Steve drop the stack back into his desk.

Y/N, first and last.

Could it be?

There's no guarantee that it's you, Steve tries to reason, people share names all of the time, even those with rarer names!

Steve eagerly checks the address listed on the resumé and breathes a sigh of relief. It's obviously not you, the last time Steve spoke to you, you were living in a completely different section of the city.

But what if he moved? A traitorous voice in his head asks and Steve shakes his head and dismisses the thought.

You wouldn't try to work under Steve after kicking him out of your life suddenly, right?

Right?

There's only one way to know.

Steve checks the phone number listed on the application and closes his eyes in defeat. It's yours, the same number you used to drop a bombshell on him years ago.

After confirming you're one of the applicants, Steve is bombarded with a lot of different emotions at the same time.

He's still angry at you, but there's also a part of him that wants to see you and how you've been, a part of him that's always wanted closure and ask why you really left him in the dust all those years ago. He's conflicted as to whether or not he should throw away your application in the trash and finally close that chapter of his life with you, for good.

So Steve does what he always does when he's in a pickle nowadays- calls Bucky and Sam. They're always together so it's like a two for the price of one deal.

"Hello, Buck? You're NEVER going to believe who applied to be my assistant," Steve blurts out on the phone.

…

"Okay, so let me get this straight. Y/N doesn't actually know that he's applied to be an assistant to you or?" Bucky asks, and Steve can hear the barely contained glee in his voice.

"No, it's never clarified in the listing. Just says senior staff member," Steve answers.

"Well then here's your chance to fuck with him the way he fucked with you years ago-"

"What do you mean?"

"Give him the job!"

"Give him the job?!" Steve repeats and Bucky laughs.

"Yeah, and just be a dick to him," Bucky continues and Steve can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"What?" Steve asks, surprised. He thought they would've told him some 'be the bigger person' shit.

"Bucky! That is horrible advice!" Sam scolds, and it seems like someone's finally decided to be the voice of reason.

"You should be nice to him and then fire him suddenly. Waste his time like he did yours," Sam offers instead, and Steve can hear Bucky go "ooh, that's a good idea, too, babe" in the background.

What should he do? And why is Steve's heart racing? Is it from anxiety or perhaps excitement?

"Thanks, you two just told me what I needed to hear," Steve tells them, and Bucky and Sam both reply with a "No problem!" and "Anytime!" before he hangs up.

Steve presses a button on the intercom.

"Ms. Nguyen, please arrange for candidate Y/N (first and last name) to be seen in a week's time."

"Yes, Mr. Rogers." Steve smiles and thinks and thinks. There's a lot of planning he has to do.

Three days later you get an email.

"Good afternoon, Y/N (first and last),

This is Jessica Nguyen with Cap Incorporated reaching out to you regarding your application. You have been selected to do an in-person interview. Please respond at your earliest convenience with attachments of your resumé, a cover letter, and five references.

Tips for the interview: Be on time. Be well dressed.

Have A Nice Day,

Jessica

-Secretarial Assistant"

What the fuck? When did you even-?

You can't afford to leave this alone and this is a great opportunity. Forget Steve Rogers. It's not like you're going to working with him, anyway. You send back a confirmation email, and try not to think about it anymore.

A feeling of unease crawls up your spine.

---

Sweet Pea

Ari Levinson hates people— except for you. But if he hates people why is he letting that girl at the bar talk to him? And why are you jealous? And why do you want him to **** your ***** until you’re *******?

Ari Levinson x Reader

Warnings: 18+, degradation, size kink, dumbification, possessiveness, spit, spanking, pussy slapping, exhibition, jealousy, creampie, praise

Masterlist

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

“He’s so fucking big,” the woman gasps. The group around her nods in agreement, their eyes dancing over to Ari who was hurdling darts at a target, drink in one hand as he aims with the other.

You raise an eyebrow, already knowing how this was about to go down.

“You should go talk to him,” the woman’s friend encourages. “He’s been alone all night, I’m sure he’s dying for someone to come up to him.”

The woman grins as she sifts through her purse, pulling out a mirror to re-apply her deep red lipstick before fixing her dress and heading straight towards Ari.

Snorting, you await for the crash and burn she would soon ensue. She’d be lucky to even get out a “no thanks,” from him. Usually he’d just shake his head before taking a longgg sip of whiskey until they got the hint and left.

But to your surprise, she never came back. Instead you heard the distinct sound of heavy laughter. Quickly you look up, face dropping at the sight of Ari and the woman giggling. Her hand slid across his shoulder as he pulls out a seat for her to sit.

“You’ve gotta be fucking with me,” you grit.

Keep reading

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Misplaced Theatrics: Dark! Chris Evans x Reader

A/N: Hi lovely people! Surprise! I know I said no fics till July but my exam dates literally shifted the next day lol. My most important paper is still scheduled to be on 1st  August but hopefully it will shift too. Until that happens, my June and July are still scheduled to be super busy but I’ll try to update LaCs and also share this brand new series I’m in love with! Meanwhile take care cookies, I’m sorry I have a tendency to ramble. Also this my first time writing RPF so be kind.

Warning: Non-Con, RPF, Breaking and Entering. IF THIS OFFENDS YOU, DO NOT ENGAGE. 

Genres + Characters: Acting AU/RPF.

Summary: You realise too late that the lines between acting and reality have blurred between you and your co-star.

Word count: 3.5K

Another bouquet of roses, another bunch of stuffed animals, a sweatshirt, one of his sweatshirts that he had been seen wearing in public all the time. Your eyes scrunched as you found a mauve velvet box this time, eyes widening at the brand’s name, Tiffany and Co.

You opened the box, your eyes finding the most gorgeous piece of jewelry you’ve ever laid eyes on, perhaps the most expensive one too; a necklace laced with diamonds, both white and blue.

This was too much.

Emptying the entire box, you kept the articles aside and folded the box so it occupied less space and slid it over one of the cabinets. You knew the pap outside had stopped the delivery chap and was now bombarding him with questions which he’d so happily answer. The sender and the contents and whatnot.

This was a PR stunt after all, a means to promote your movie.

Keep reading

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Eddie: Ok, so, nickname for Nancy, what are we thinking? Personally, I'm leaning towards "Ripley". Badass, fierce, and a good soul. Yeah?

Steve: Come on man, it's gotta be "Hotshot".

Nancy: Really? The best you could come up with is "Hotshot"?

Steve: It's accurate! You're an attractive woman and your aim with a gun is amazing!

Robin: I'd call her "Mommy".

Eddie, Steve, and Nancy: *All slowly turn towards Robin*

Robin: *Hit with realisation* Oh... I said that out loud... Didn't I?

Nancy: *With THOSE dom eyes* Oh yeah you did.

---

The Closer I Get 13

Warnings: this fic will include dark content including rape/noncon, possessiveness, jealousy, fatphobic attitudes, gaslighthing.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You meet the God of Thunder by chance only to find yourself swept up in the whirlwind of his attention. (chubby/short!reader)

Characters: Thor

Note: As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Shrek loves Fiona. Take care. 💖

You stand at the counter, leaning against the little round ledge of laminate as you wait for your order. Despite the distance, you beat the fill at the pharmacy. Anxiously, almost erratic, you pick your nails as you watch the workers in white coats and name tags at their work, like ants in a hill.

Keep reading

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Posters on the Wall | E.M. x Reader

MASTERLIST

Summary: Your bedroom is covered in posters of your celebrity crush; Kirk Hammett. It's not until Steve points it out that you notice a... similarity to another metalhead you know.

Smut, afab reader, PWP

Warnings: Daddy kink, spanking, degradation, name calling (slut, whore, bitch), slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, fingering (f rec), penetrative sex, creampie, slight praise kink.

5.1K words

18+ MINORS DNI

Your best friend Steve had been in your room many times before. There were no new posters, no new knick-knacks, which is why it was strange he suddenly seemed so darn interested in them. "You know..." He started, putting one hand on his hip and the other on his chin. Oh god, this can't be good. 

"You really have a type. Have you ever noticed?" He motioned to a couple of posters on your wall. They were primarily of popular metal and rock bands, but there were some solo posters of members you were crushing on. Kind of. Mainly Kirk from Metallica, but who could blame you? Kirk was 21 when he joined the band in 1983 and had the perfect looks and talent for you to swoon over. He was your favourite. 

"What do you mean? A type?" You questioned, putting quotation marks around the 'type'. Steve laughed and pointed at a poster of Kirk that was hung right above your bed. "You don't see it?" He asked, eyebrows raised. You shook your head and shrugged. 

"These guys look an awful lot like someone we know, don't you think?" Steve gestured at a cluster of pictures on your wall. Amongst the photos of musicians and actors, there were a few strewn about of your friends. "I still don't get it, Steve." You sighed as you glanced at the picture of Robin, Eddie and you that Steve had pointed at last. 

"You're genuinely telling me that your lady-boner for Mr Hammett here has nothing to do with your crush on Mr Munson?" Steve scoffed. Your jaw dropped as you turned to glare at him. 

"I do not have a crush on Eddie! Are you insinuating Kirk looks like him? That's what you were getting at?" You crossed your arms defensively. Your brows furrowed as you thought it through. Kirk and Eddie didn't look alike, did they? Steve could practically see the cogs turning in your head. He knew he was digging up an unspoken topic; your feelings for Eddie. 

He didn't know what happened that night in the Upside Down. Nobody did, except Dustin, Eddie and you. The three of you refused to talk about it. Steve and Robin had discussed it and decided it must've been insanely traumatic. Hell, Eddie had almost died. Almost. Everybody had made assumptions about how you felt, but that incident settled it. You were in love with him, whether you knew it or not. You couldn't not be, not with the way you looked at him after that. 

You shrugged it off and tried to ignore Steve's insinuation. He trotted down the stairs as you collected your things to head over to Eddie's trailer. Your eyes fell on the poster of Kirk hung above your bed, followed by the picture of Eddie and you on your bedside table. Maybe they did look kind of similar? You sighed as you shook your head at the idea. You closed the door behind you and followed Steve down the stairs and out the front door. 

The drive to Forrest Hills was strangely muted. Steve informed you Nancy had had to cancel, but otherwise, it was silent. You'd picked up Robin along the way. As usual, she immediately started chattering your ears off, breaking the silence. Steve pulled up and parked next to Eddie's van. 

The man of the hour was already stood in the doorway, smoking a cigarette as he leaned against the doorframe. You didn't get to do this often; hang without the kids. You enjoyed their presence, but now and then you needed this. You think you all did. 

Eddie invited you in, and you settled on the couch with Robin and Steve. Eddie prepared some drinks and snacks on a tray and balanced it on his hands as he took it to the living room, a bag of chips clamped between his teeth. He set everything on the table and clapped his hands, waving them in the general direction of the cups. "Self-service, ladies and gentleman." 

The night was relaxed, consisting of just games and fun chatter. When Robin finally brought up the topic of celebrity look-alikes, you glared daggers at a snickering Steve. 

"I mean, it has to be Swayze, right? Eddie argued. You had been first, followed by Robin. Nobody could agree on which celeb looked like Steve, though. 

Robin shook her head in disagreement. "It's Rob Lowe, I'm telling you." Steve scoffed. "So I just look like I should play in Youngblood? Because that's what I'm hearing. I don't even like hockey. Besides, Hargrove looks way more like Rob Lowe than I do." 

You ended up agreeing that, yes, Steve just looked like he belonged between the generic heartthrobs. 

When Eddie came up, Steve remained exceptionally hushed with a mischievous look threatening to spread across his face. You and Robin named a couple of famous actors and musicians before she turned to you and hit you on the shoulder repeatedly. 

"Oh! That guy you had the wet dream about last week! The Metallica one on all those posters in your room!" Robin looked like she'd solved string theory as your face turned red. "Robin!" You whisper-shouted in a horrified tone, putting a hand over your face in embarrassment. 

"It's Kirk Hammett," Steve spoke up. 

"Yes! Thank you! You look like Kirk Hammett!" Robin exclaimed. You loved her, but God, did you want her to shut up like three sentences ago. Did she not hear what she was insinuating? That you’d had a wet dream about an Eddie look-alike? You wanted the couch to swallow you whole.

Eddie’s expression was illegible as he turned to Steve. “You know Metallica members, Harrington?” 

“Just the one. I guess you’ve never been in that bedroom because you definitely would've remembered. The guy is everywhere. It’s kinda creepy, actually. Can’t change in there, feel watched.” Steve shuddered at the thought. 

“Well, I guess I do see a similarity. I think it’s mainly the hair, though.” Eddie smirked smugly as he leaned back in the chair. 

The discussion changed to one about hair, Steve’s to be precise. Yet you kept feeling Eddie’s gaze on you. You sighed as you reached for a chip and turned to Robin when the boys were busy discussing shampoo. “You couldn’t just have named anyone else?” 

Robin shrugged. “They look alike. I don’t know what you want me to say.” She stuffed a handful of popcorn into her mouth. 

You watched Eddie as he playfully argued with Steve. The scar on his jaw was slowly fading, becoming less prominent. You guess he did kind of resemble Kirk if you squinted. You could admit Eddie was a handsome guy. Was Steve right? Did you have a crush on Eddie? 

You imagined yourself with Eddie on a lazy Sunday morning. Sleeping in, making breakfast, arms wrapping around you as a kiss was planted on your cheek. Heat rose to your face when you realized that was definitely something you could see in your near future. 

You tried imagining the same scenario with Steve, and although he too was handsome, the image wasn't accompanied by the same warm, longing feeling. Did you have feelings for Eddie? 

Steve and Eddie immediately noticed your flustered expression. Eddie was merely curious, giving you those big questioning puppy eyes. Steve, however, seemed to have caught on. The knowing smirk as he glanced at Eddie before raising his eyebrows at you told you enough. His body language screamed ‘I told you so.’ 

You really, really wished you could control thought processes. While the domestic scene was adorable, your mind flashed back to Robin’s words and the implication they’d made. You’d told her about the dream in confidence. You hadn’t gone into detail, but she’d heard enough. Clearly, it had stuck. 

And now you were stuck. The imagery of that night returned, but the hands trailing under your shirt were clad in familiar rings. The top you took off was suddenly one you recognized all too well. The chest your fingers traced was now adorned with tattoos and scars, the sight of which you were well acquainted with. 

Dream-Kirk had morphed into Dream-Eddie, and your breathing quickened when you realized the new mental images had you clenching your thighs, wetter than you had ever been. Was your superficial crush on the guitarist just a projection of your feelings for Eddie? 

Eddie had been observing you while he talked with Steve and Robin. You were being uncharacteristically quiet. He noticed the occasional flush of your cheeks and pressing of your legs. You were lost in thought, drink untouched in your hand. He turned to offer you some chips or anything else to your liking.

"Sex?" You were startled as Eddie spoke to you directly. You nearly dropped your drink as your jaw dropped in shock. "What?" 

"I asked if you wanted some snacks. Where's your head at?" Eddie raised his eyebrows teasingly. The ghost of a smirk danced on his lips as he watched you squirm and scold yourself. Where was your head at? 

"Yeah, sorry, thanks. Guess I'm just a little... distracted today." You sighed as you took the chips from him. You munched on them silently as you sat there mortified. Of course, he didn't just fucking turn to you and ask you for sex. 

"What's on your mind?" Eddie asked. You shook your head and chuckled. You glanced at Steve and Robin, who were lost in conversation. "Just, earlier..." You trailed off. Why you were even being honest, you didn't know. 

"Oh, I can totally catch you up on which hair products Harrington uses. Apparently, it's this Farah Fawcett hairspray he— Hey! Ow!" He exclaimed in pain when you hit his shoulder. 

"You know that's not what I meant, Eddie!" You muttered loudly.

"Hey, I was just giving you an out if you didn't want to breach the whole 'wet dream about my look-alike' topic." He laughed. You sighed as you looked up at him, your thighs involuntarily clenching at his expression. You weren't sure what he was thinking. His eyes darted to your thighs as he took his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Your trance was broken by Robin clearing her throat. "It's getting late, your uncle is probably coming home soon, and I don't want to bother him. Should we go?" Steve nodded in agreement. 

"Yeah, I guess that's probably for the best." Eddie put his hands on his thighs as he pushed himself out of the chair. "C'mon, I'll drive you guys home." He motioned to Robin and you. 

"No, that's okay. I'll take Robin. We live close anyways." Steve smiled. He openly winked at you as he said it. Bastard. Eddie neglected the fact that you lived closer to Robin than Steve did and agreed to be the one to take you home. Perhaps it was time you had a grown-up conversation with him about how you were feeling. 

You got in the passenger seat and watched Steve and Robin drive off. An energy you were unfamiliar with filled the van. Tension, maybe? Mutual anticipation? You didn't dare turn to Eddie or open your mouth, afraid of what would happen if you did. 

He started the van quietly. You watched as his right hand gripped the gear tightly, knuckles turning white. The left was holding the steering wheel for dear life. You'd hoped the grumbling engine would've broken the suspense hanging in the air, but it did no such thing. 

You were almost convinced you'd been imagining things. That Eddie didn't feel what you did. That his breathing wasn't actually any different than usual. That he wasn't being weirdly distant. But all your worries were resolved when his right hand slowly found its way onto your thigh. The strained gasp that left your mouth shouldn't have been as relieved, as suggestive as it was. 

"Tell me about the dream." Eddie finally broke the silence. You didn't know his grip on the wheel could tighten even more, but it did. The hand on your thigh was gentle in comparison, fingers tracing circles on the inside that had shivers going up your spine. 

"I'm not sure I want to." You confessed quietly, looking out the window. 

"Look at me when I talk to you, princess." Your eyes widened at the nickname. His voice had a tone you'd never heard from him before. "C'mon, tell me."

You hesitated, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times. You didn't know where to start. "I guess it starts at a concert. And yo-he's playing the guitar. And I guess that's kinda... hot? And then the concert ends and we... y'know?"

Eddie chuckled at your reluctance. "Shit, I'm gonna need a bit more than that, sweetheart." He squeezed your thigh as he spoke, rubbing it a bit to encourage you to keep talking. 

"It's nothing special, really. Just some making out and shit." You huffed, not wanting to go into detail. You tried to recall the dream as vividly as possible, and you were starting to doubt if it had ever even been about Kirk, or if it had been Eddie all along and you'd just convinced yourself it hadn't been. No matter, all the images were of Eddie now. They were consuming you slowly. 

"If it's just the thought of making out with me that's been getting you so hot and bothered all night, I can't wait to find out what happens when we actually do, baby." Eddie's hand crept higher and higher up your thigh, eyes never leaving the road. 

"It wasn't about you, Eddie." You scoffed. Your gaze was fixated on his profile, but he didn't let up. 

"As long as you've got yourself convinced." His smile was mocking you when he finally made eye contact. Your eyebrows furrowed. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" You questioned. Were you really that transparent all evening? 

"It means you're soaked, sweetheart. And have been since you got the thought of me stuck in your head earlier." He said it like it was the most obvious fact in the world. Like he told you the sky was blue, and the grass was green. A whimper left your throat when his finger traced the hem of your panties. How hadn't you noticed his hand coming up again? 

"That's right, baby. Feel what I do to you? What the thought of me does to your pussy?" He stroked you through the dampened fabric. There were no longer any words coming from you, just sounds. 

You mustered as much willpower as you could and spoke. "Eyes on the road, Munson." It was meant to sound confident, but Eddie knew he had you right where he wanted. Wet and desperate.

"I'm doing fine over here. It's you we should be worried about. Are you still breathing? Or have you just completely given up on all human function?" His chuckle was dark. Who was this person, and what had he done to sweet, loving Eddie? He was ridiculing you, and you were eating it up. How did he know which buttons to press so damn well? 

"I'm breathing." You mumbled. Eddie snickered and shook his head. "More like hyperventilating. Speak up." Eddie finally stopped rubbing your clothed cunt to shift the gear and park his van by your house. You hadn't even noticed you'd arrived. 

Eddie clicked and undid your seatbelt and motioned for you to get out of the car. You opened the door and put your feet on the gravel, knees weaker than you'd expected. The cold breeze blowing through the trees made goosebumps appear all over your body. 

You walked to the door and unlocked it, not checking if Eddie followed you inside. You knew he never intended on just driving you home. He was coming inside. 

You walked up the stairs and heard the front door close and lock. Eddie caught up to you and slapped your ass as you walked towards your room. “Nice house. Can’t believe I’ve never been here.” He mumbled as he walked up the stairs. 

As soon as the door to your bedroom was opened, Eddie closed in on you. His hands found their way to your hips as he pulled you close. He looked around the room for a little and smirked. There were a lot of posters here. 

He pulled you close and put a hand on your chin, tilting your face to his and kissing you softly. Even when he felt like ravaging you, he wanted your first kiss with him to be good, memorable. He felt you melt into his touch, relief washing over you when you finally got to put your lips against his. 

When he pulled away, a whimper nearly left you. You managed to hold it in, but your anguished expression was obvious. “Now that that’s out of the way…” Eddie sighed as he towered over you and walked closer, making you walk back towards the wall. 

He pushed you against the wall harshly, pressing his lips to your neck. "I understand what Harrington was getting at, now. Totally feel watched in here. Kinda hot, not gonna lie." He laughed as he pried your legs apart with his knee. He could feel the heat radiating from you as he pushed his knee against your cunt. "You into that kinda thing, baby? Maybe next time I'll take you somewhere with real people. Give 'em a little show." 

You moaned as he sucked a bruise onto your neck. "You'd love that, wouldn't you? You're a filthy little slut who likes being watched." His hand shot up your shirt and groped your clothed breast roughly, pressing his lips to yours once more. The knee between your legs was torturing you, never quite giving the right amount of pressure or friction. You tried to grind down to seek it, but Eddie's hands went to your hips and stilled them instantly. 

"Nu-uh, sweetheart. Only I get to play with your pussy. It's mine now, isn't it?" His kisses had stopped as he observed your expression, trying to read how far he could push it. You nodded wildly, silently pleading for him to continue. "Yes! All yours!" You whined and tried to pull him back into you. 

Eddie grinned at your desperation, bringing his knee up just once to watch you keen. You tried to grind your hips down again but huffed in frustration as he held you in place. He reached for your arms, putting them above your head. He undressed you with ease, only leaving you in your bra and panties. "You look fantastic, sweetheart." 

"Thank you, daddy." You sighed with your head thrown back, waiting for the touch of his lips to return. When they didn't, your head whipped back down as your eyes searched Eddie's face in confusion. 

"What did you just call me?" He questioned cynically with his eyebrows raised. Your heart sank when you realized your mistake. You'd called him 'daddy', a thing you'd known about yourself but didn't dare mention to any of your friends. 

"Eddie, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." You stammered, reaching for your shirt to put it back on. Eddie tutted as he took it from your hands with a teasing smile. "No, baby. It's alright. You're gonna stay right here for daddy, right?"

You nodded wildly and pushed your back against the wall again, awaiting his next move. When he reached to turn you around, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. A harsh smack landed on your ass as you yelped, whipping your head around to look at the perpetrator. 

"Use your words for me, baby. No nodding or shaking your head, only 'Yes, daddy' or 'No, daddy.' Understood?" He asked, threatening to land another smack on the stinging area. You nodded before catching yourself. "Yes, daddy." 

"Good girl." 

The two-worded sentence sparked something new in you. A desire you weren't aware of. A need to please Eddie. You'd do anything to hear those words again. 

"You like it when I call you a good girl? Made your legs clench, baby. So cute." Eddie whispered in your ear as his hand slid from your ass to your folds, rubbing softly over the fabric. You whined as you searched for more friction. "Yes, daddy. Please." You didn't know what you were begging for. You just needed him to do something. 

You were still facing the wall when he pulled at your hips, bending you over. You put your hands against the wall to steady yourself. 

He snapped the waistband of your underwear harshly before pulling them down your legs. He ensured his hands were touching you at all times, leaving trails of goosebumps wherever they went. His finger dipped between your folds, collecting the juice on his finger. He put his hand to your lips and bent forward to whisper in your ear. "Taste yourself for me, baby. Taste how much I turn you on." 

You took his finger in your mouth right as he pushed another inside your cunt and swirled your tongue around it. Never in a million years would you have believed anyone who had told you this morning that coming nightfall, Eddie Munson's fingers would be knuckle deep inside your mouth and pussy. Yet here you were, and you were loving every second of it.

"That's right. So fucking wet for me. It's embarrassing. Do you have no self-control? Couldn't even think straight when our friends were around. How am I supposed to take you anywhere in the future if you're just gonna be a horny bitch?" Another smack landed on your ass. You grumbled a defence around his fingers, but it was unintelligible. 

Another slap. "No back talking, sweetheart. If you're gonna behave like a brat, you're gonna get treated like one." 

His fingers left your mouth, allowing you to speak again. "Eddie, please." You begged. 

The fingers inside you found a cruel rhythm, curling right under the spot you wanted them to. His other hand, still wet with your saliva, found your clit and started rubbing circles around it. You struggled to stand upright, the arm reaching down your front being the only thing left to support you. "That's not my name, is it, baby?"  

You shook your head, struggling to keep it up between your arms resting against the wall. "No, I'm sorry, daddy." 

Eddie chuckled at your wanton apology. "That's alright, baby. You can make it up to daddy by lying on your bed for me." 

You nearly tripped over your own feet with the speed you tried to get to your bed. The poster of Kirk above it got your attention, and suddenly you understood Steve and Eddie. You did feel watched. Eddie followed your gaze and rested his knee on the bed, leaning over you to rip the poster from the wall. 

"Just you wait and see, sweetheart. In a few years, I'll be your celebrity crush." He smiled as he crumpled the poster and threw it to the floor. 

"You already are. I'm kind of starting to believe my crush on Kirk was just me convincing myself I didn't have a crush on you." You confessed honestly. 

Eddie's hand slid up your thigh as he put a hand beside you, leaning over you. It was only now you noticed he was still fully clothed. 

"That's cute, baby. You have a crush on me?" He smirked when he reached behind your back to finally relieve you of your last piece of clothing. You put your hands over your face in embarrassment. You let him take your bra off and eagerly watched as he took off his shirt. 

You watched him unbuckle his belt, and nerves settled in your stomach. Were you actually going to have sex with Eddie? You saw his bulge through his boxers and genuinely felt your mouth fucking water. Jesus H. Christ. 

You got on your knees and shuffled to him to pull his boxers down. He stepped out of them and let out a relieved sigh when your hand cupped his balls as the other gripped him at the base. He was rock hard, dripping precum from the raging red tip. You gave it a small lick, collecting the liquid on your tongue. The salty flavour of Eddie took over your senses. 

His hips bucked and he put a hand in your hair. You bent forward to take him in your mouth, but his grip on your hair stopped you. "Next time, kitten. Just give it a little kiss for daddy, will you?" He asked sweetly. You nodded with a pout, but puckered your lips, pressing a peck to the head of his cock. 

"Attagirl." He gently pushed you on your back, climbing over you as he left a trail of kisses up your body. Your fingers discovered his torso, tracing the scars that adorned it. He used to be self-conscious about them, especially when they were more prominent, but you thought they were sexy as hell. They proved he was a hero. 

His hand swiped between your folds, appreciating how wet you were and collecting as much of it as he could. He spread it over his dick sloppily, making an obscene squelching noise as he did so. The smile on his face was lewd when he observed you squirming in anticipation. "Didn't bring a condom, baby. Gonna fuck you raw. Gonna fill you up with my cum." He groaned. 

You relished in the idea of being filled to the brim. You wanted Eddie inside, now. You tugged at the necklace that dangled in front of your face and pulled him close. That earned you a smack to the tit. A high-pitched cry left your mouth as you watched him in shock. "Desperate fucking whore. I'll fuck you when I feel like it. You're gonna wait patiently, or there will be consequences." 

You didn't know whether to be scared or even more turned on at the threat. 

He positioned his tip at your entrance and slid inside agonizingly slow. You shuddered as he bottomed out, a guttural moan bubbling from your chest. This was pleasure in its rawest form. He dragged his dick back out at the same agonizing pace before knocking the breath out of you with a harsh thrust. 

"Jesus, fuck, Eddie." You tried to hold onto anything to steady yourself. Everything became too much. His brutal pace increased as he gave your other tit a smack. "Was so easy for you when you slipped up, baby. How do you keep forgetting now?" 

"'M sorry, daddy." You were delirious when he brought his hand down to rub at your clit. The feeling of his tip hitting the right spot over and over and over, combined with the friction on your clit, was getting you close at a rate you'd never experienced. You weren't going to last if he kept this up. 

"Gonna cum already? Feel so good on daddy's dick? Fuck, baby, you're already getting tighter." Eddie rambled as he drilled into you. You were an incoherent moaning mess, a jumbled mix of 'Daddy', 'Eddie' and 'Please' leaving your mouth. He didn't bother correcting you anymore. You were too far gone. 

He pinched one of your nipples in tandem with pinching your clit, drawing pained moans out of you. It hurt so good. "Like it when it hurts, slut? Can't cum without the pain?" He asked accompanied by lethal jabs at your cervix. You hated how it nearly sent you over the edge. How he was able to bring out the worst in you. How he knew what you needed, even when you didn't know yourself. 

Your moans and whines were increasing in volume and quantity. Eddie could feel you were close and started chasing his own release. He grabbed your shoulder, using it as leverage to push as deep and fast as possible. 

You felt him twitch inside. He was no longer talking, just grunting and moaning as he watched your tits bounce with the rhythm of his thrusts. His free hand went back down to your clit and put a delicious amount of pressure on it, rubbing in time with the slapping of his balls against your skin. 

"Gonna fill you up. Gonna breed that little pussy full with my cum." He groaned. With a few last thrusts and whines from both parties, he stilled and spilt inside. The feeling sent you over the edge, one last exclamation of "Daddy!" leaving you as you came. He stayed inside a bit longer, admiring your sweaty, heaving shape as you came down from your high. 

He slowly pulled out and admired the cum spilling from your pussy with a proud look. He bent down and licked some of it up, making you hiss at the sensitivity of your spent cunt. He chuckled and looked up at you. "Hi." He smiled. 

"Don't you 'Hi' me when you just gave me the best orgasm of my life, Munson." You groaned. He just laughed and dragged his body back up and told you to open your mouth. A mix of cum and saliva dripped from his mouth to yours. 

"Swallow, baby." He smirked. You did as you were told and showed him your empty mouth. "Good girl." He bent down and kissed you softly, in stark contrast to the proper fucking he just gave you. 

Eddie plopped down beside you and looked around the room properly for the first time. He noticed more details now, like the number of pictures of him that were sprinkled in amongst those of Kirk. "If I were to cut my hair, would you still like me? Because it seems like that's your thing." 

You laughed and looked around your room. "Yeah, I'd still like you, dumbass."

"Good, good. When Corroded Coffin blows up, you're gonna have to deal with a grand bout of jealousy, babe. That's gonna be me up on girls' walls." He stated matter of factly. 

"I think I'll manage." 

"Yeah, just go running to Kirk. Maybe by that time, I'll even be able to introduce you." Eddie smirked as he lay on his side, putting a hand under his head to support it. He gazed down at you with an expression you'd never seen on him before. A mix of glee, pride and admiration. 

"In your dreams, Eddie." You scoffed as you pushed against his arm, making his head fall back to the mattress. 

"Actually, in your dreams. Isn't that how we ended up like this, anyways?" 

---

ahhh wait up do you write top male reader because like... Yeah..

Top!Reader x Bottom!Eddie

Warnings: Smut, Sex, mentions of violence, mostly just an excuse to write a song based on girl in red, self indulgent to no end.

Summary: After a chance meeting with his high school crush, Eddie scores, and also gets pizza.

Word count: 2.5k

AN: Look new baby girl drops and I'm self-indulgent.

It's suggested you listen to the song 'we fell in love in October' whilst reading.

The loud noises and flickering lights of the party went to a dull noise and a darkened sky with just twinkling lights as he climbed onto the roof of whoever's house he was at. He can’t quite remember because his friends dragged him to it promising he could leave after an hour. He wasn’t technically leaving all things considered. Pulling a box of french cigarettes from his pocket, muttering softly to himself as he hummed to the song inside the house. There was a sudden bang at the window as the man’s head whipped around, noticing a man with longer hair climb through and slam it shut behind him, Jason and his group of jocks following close behind and glaring at the man, obviously having just chased him. It was obvious who it was, Eddie wasn’t unknown to start shit at parties with him when Jason was being bothersome. His issue currently, was that the window locked once fully shut. Meaning they were both locked out of the house now. 

Eddie turned, almost jumping when he saw the other sitting there lighting his cigarette while studying him curiously, “You know- you just locked us both out right?” Eddie groaned, “Shit- sorry man. I just don’t want another black eye or broken nose. I’m pretty sure that if this thing breaks anymore it’s gonna snap off.” The other held out a cigarette to him, offering it with a small chuckle, “I get it, Jason’s super fucking annoying.”

Eddie offered his hand first, “Never take a smoke from a stranger, I’m Eddie-”

“-Munson. I know. I’m Y/N.” He smirked, shaking his hand gently, “They’re French- I know you hand roll yours but these are probably just as good.” He shrugged, still holding the cigarette out to him. Eddie took it, smiling softly as he muttered, “Can I borrow your light?”

There was no way Eddie- known weed smoker and blunt roller- didn’t have a lighter, so why was he asking? He wanted to see the other man’s face, hoping to see if glow with the soft light from a flame to get a good look at him. Y/N nodded, leaning forward once Eddie held the cigarette between his lips, opening a Zippo that was covered in small flowers that looked to be hand engrained. He glanced up once the lighter was ignited, looking over his face curiously, noticing the small trace of his jaw, the way his hair was parted, and the soft freckles that were barely visible, as he inhaled once the end was lit. He lost visual of the boy in red once he leaned back, smoking the cigarette slowly to get its flavor profile. It almost tasted like roses to him. Y/N looked over, reading the boy's expression, “Less nicotine- more of an ashy-er taste. Floral almost- like the bud is freshly picked.” He spoke softly, his voice almost soothing in comparison to the night Eddie had had so far. 

“I got the floral taste- it’s nice.” He looked over at him, “You’re graduated right?”

“Yup, I just hang out with Steve and a couple of his friends a lot. Doing community college here cause I don’t have the money for out of state.” He glanced over at him and locked eyes, “You’re not out yet right?”

He nodded, squeezing his hands on his thighs, “I’m not stupid though.”

“I don’t think you are- McDonnells right? Her english class was hell and I’m majoring in english now- trust me, it’s hell getting out, but worth it. If you want some help, I tutor on the weekends for some extra cash?” 

Eddie perked up, having become fascinated with the other man as he nodded in the dark, “I’d like that- how much per session?”

“Only a buck an hour.” He lied through his teeth. He wasn’t going to charge him regularly. He smiled when he noticed Eddie’s sudden intrigue, “You’re fucking lying.”

“I’m not- it’s only a dollar an hour.” He added, not giving up his lie, “I do english mostly, but if you need help with other stuff I’m open to help with that as well.” 

Eddie glared at him a few seconds more before sighing, “Alright- it’s just her class mostly..” The other nodded, taking a final drag from his cigarette before tossing it off the roof, looking around, “We should probably figure out a way off the roof.” He turned back to the other, noticing he was suddenly much closer, “Getting bored of me?”

He tensed up, looking over his expression and noticed that there was a height difference between the two of them- he was nearly two inches taller than Eddie. He swallowed thickly, looking him over still as he muttered, “No..” 

Eddie smirked, leaning just a little bit closer as he muttered, “Really? You’re not?”

He flustered, blurting out to defend himself, “The tent in my pants says otherwise.” 

Eddie froze, glancing down with what little light the window was giving them and swallowing thickly, “Well shit if I had known I would have offered assistance earlier.” 

Now it was his turn to freeze up, looking him over still as he leaned back to match Eddie’s movements closer to him, “Are you offering now?” He muttered back, watching as Eddie inhaled more of the cigarette's taste before blowing it onto him, “Yes.”

With that confirmation he leaned forward, hooking his legs around his waist to pull him closer, gaining the much needed friction on his own clothed cock as he kissed him to capture the rest of the smoke, shotgun kissing him without the weed in the process as he exhaled the smoke back out of his nose. Eddie chuckled against his lips at the sight, lifting him up by his back as he muttered, “Never made out with someone on a roof before.”

“First time for everything.” He muttered, bit on his lower lip gently and then kissed him again, prodding his tongue to feel out the longer haired man’s mouth. The other moaned against his tongue, velvet hands sliding into his hair and giving a light tug. Oh. Oh. That’s where this was going. He could tolerate that. He grinded into him, fighting for dominance through the kiss before the other yanked his head back and disconnected the kiss, flipping them so he was on top, “Nuh uh. You’re far too pretty darling, I wanna get this perfect view of you beneath me.”

Eddie let out a whimper, a fucking whimper. And god it was hot, cause the man above him muttered lowly, “Shit- you better moan like that all the time, I want Jason to hear you having a better fuck than he probably is right now.” 

Eddie nodded in a small daze, looking him over with soft eyes, “You look so pretty.” 

Y/N chuckled, speaking softly, “Thank god I’m here to stay then huh? Gotta give ya something to look at. You wanna do this?”

“I’m not going back down right now- Jason’s probably waiting at my van to beat me up, and you're like.. really hot.” He chuckled out, sliding his hand into the back pocket of his jeans where his black bandana was, pulling out a rubber, “I uh- don’t know how well endowed you are… but I do have protection.”

The other man snickered, tugging him closer by his hip while still keeping them balanced. The roof wasn’t steep by any means, but still safer than sorry. He slid his hand to Eddie’s stomach, pushing down just a bit as he leaned over to mutter into his ear, “By the end of the night, once I walk ya safely to your van, you’re going to be feeling my cock right here for the rest of the night.”

Eddie choked a bit on his own spit, looking up at the other man a bit fearfully as he held up the condom, “Guess this might come in handy then.”

He nodded in agreement, pulling back to slide his hands over Eddie’s covered legs, muttering softly, “gonna take these off okay?”

He could really only nod, letting him do as he wished as he tore open the condom with his teeth, canines on full display for the other to look up at hungrily, before he focused back on the task at hand. He slid off his jeans, folding them and setting them aside so they didn’t fall, following with his boxers. He glanced down, his eyes falling to his angry red tip as he muttered, “Shit Munson- shoulda fucked you sooner.”

“You wanted to fuck me sooner?!” He exclaimed, reaching up to undo the other man's pants as well, still holding the condom between his teeth, “How long?!”

“Since my fucking senior year- you came into the lunchroom yelling about how stupid basketball was, made this super goofy face when Jason called you a freak. It was cute.” He glanced up at him, noticing he was flustered as he paused, “Sorry- that was a little offhanded.”

“No it’s just- I didn’t think you thought I was cute. You hung out with Nancy and I always saw you with Harrington. Figured you never noticed me.” He smiled, tugging down the other man's boxers just enough to free his cock and leaving it at his mid thighs, gawking for a minute at the size of him, “Yeah you’re definitely well endowed.”

He flustered, leaning over him to quiet him with a kiss for a bit, sliding his hand down to push up his shirt, noticing it had a fading band name as he slid his hand around his neck softly, barely even touching him. He pulled back from the kiss, muttering softly to him, “Condom.”

Eddie handed it to him, watching him as he took it from the package and slid it onto himself with ease, his other hand holding him up as it pressed into the rough texture of the shingles on the roof beside Eddie’s head. He leaned down finally, muttering softly, “Let me know if you wanna stop okay?”

He nodded gently in response, leaning up just enough to kiss him slowly and sensually, feeling him press into him and spread him so well as he moaned against his lips. Y/N pulled back, still filling him as he reached down, pumping him skilfully as he muttered, “Come on- wanna hear your pretty noises.”

Eddie’s head was thrown back at the feeling, someone obviously bound to hear his head thump into the roof as the man above him started rolling his hips, “Fuck you feel good- you okay down there big boy?” He asked, glancing down at him, not expecting Eddie the freak Munson to look so fucked out. His eyes were rolled back, hips bucking up for more as he muttered, “Fuckin’- peachy-.” He accentuated each word with a thrust into his hand, matching the pace of Y/N’s hips as he looked up at him hazily. The man noticed his desperation, moving more quickly now as he tried to hold the one below him up, keeping his bare back and legs from the rough roof as he fucked into him with need and desperation. Eddie’s hair sprawled against the black, almost like vines clung to the shingles as he leaned down, kissing along his neck and pushing sticky strands of hair aside. 

Eddie had no complaints, pleasure filling his body with warmth despite the fact that it was chilly out. He let out soft mewls below the man above him, trying to grip at something and settling on his shoulders, his red shirt crinkling in his fists as he moaned weakly beneath him. Y/N smirked, fucking into him more quickly now, “Good boy, handling me so well…” He continued pumping him, wasting no time trying to get him to cum as it was getting later in the night. Eddie flustered, his tip already leaking pre-cum as he clenched down on the man above him, feeling his cock press into him in ways he thought truly were unreachable as he moaned out. Y/N leaned close to his ear, sucking on his pulse point as he muttered, “never- in my entire life, did I think I’d get to fuck my high school crush.”

Munson scoffed, “Yeah you and me both.” 

Y/N tensed up, glancing up at him, “You’re joking. Right?”

“Of course not- you were so fucking hot, sat next to Nancy reading your french poetry books- smoking your french cigarettes.” He scoffed, like it was not news to anyone ever that he would be considered attractive. He pushed into him, snapping his hips a bit at the thought that Eddie Munson might’ve thought about him while touching himself, like he had done and had been doing. Eddie reached up, cupping his jaw, “You’re just gonna go quiet? No ‘Let’s catch a movie tomorrow’, no, ‘hey wanna crash at my place tonight.’?” He asked a little nervously, worried he’d stepped on a line he wasn’t meant to.

Y/N beamed, “How about both?” He asked softly, rolling his hips still as he kissed along his neck, “I can order a pizza, got this place I order from that’s 24/7.” 

Eddie groaned, though not a lewd one as he muttered, “Fuck I might cum if you keep talkin’ like that.”

Y/N chuckled, smacking his chest playfully as he rolled his hips again, this time rougher that elicited a real moan from Eddie, his eyes rolling back as he bucked into his hand again, their pace quickening as desperation fill both their chests for release. Eddie muttered out, his hands moving to Y/N’s shoulders again, “‘m close, you?”

Y/N nodded in response, watching every flinch of pleasure from Eddie to catch it in its wake, trying to read what he liked as he continued nailing into him, his release just there as he pumped Eddie more quickly. Eddie let out a whimper, bucking up with finality as his release spilled onto the other man’s fist and onto his own stomach, his eyes rolling back quickly at the pleasure still filling him like the man’s cock was doing. Eddie clenched down, with elicited Y/N’s release, his hands pressing onto either side of Eddie’s head as he fucked his way through his orgasm. He let out a soft pause of breath, glancing up at Eddie concernedly, “You okay?”

“Yeah.. just had the best sex of my life though.” He smirked, shifting and reaching for his bandana, wiping off the cum from his stomach as he looked up at him, “You good?”

“Yeah- fucking fantastic.” he muttered, pulling out and removing the condom, tying it and tossing it aside, knowing it’d just land in a pool or someones yard with little to no regard. 

Eddie slid back on his clothes, as did Y/N before looking up at him curiously, “does that mean- how are you reading this?” He cut himself off, sitting back on the roof again.

Y/N flopped onto his back beside him, muttering, “Do you wanna be together?”

“Yes.” He said, no hesitancy, “I liked- well like- you.”

Y/N nodded, “I like you too.” He smiled, turning to Eddie as he hummed, “Pizza?”

“Pizza.” Eddie nodded, cocking a big grin. 

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OFFICE RELATIONS

FT. TOJI FUSHIGURO

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ PAIRINGS: Pervert Assisstant!Toji Fushiguro x CEO!Fem reader

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ CW: Perverted themes, non-con use of photography, office sex, a lot of teasing, fingering, begging, finger sucking, creampie, reader is in late 30s, Toji’s in his early 40s

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ WORD COUNT: 4K+

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ FROM CHRIS: I really like this :)). Well, let me …long story short, someone had left me a little message in my taglist on how my fics could be longer. I couldn’t have agreed more so…yeah, pls enjoy bc I loved writing this

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Hi! It would be great to see Buggy and Shanks babies (Buggy who succumbed to Shanks' charm and a bottle of rum 😈)

The aftermath of Shank's charm and a bottle of rum:

(With female Buggy. And whatever Croc has got going on.)

We can argue whether Crocodile's parenting track record is indeed stellar.

Little creature:

opposites attract (eddie munson x fem!reader)

summary: as one of the most desired girls at hawkins high, being associated eddie “the freak” munson would destroy your reputation. however, you just couldn’t find it within yourself to care.

pairings: eddie munson x reader (reader is over 18)

wc: 1,234

warnings: fluff, slight bullying, bad writing 🥴

a/n: actually quite nervous about this one. this is my first time writing for eddie so pls be kind :’) also, this was written on my phone so pls excuse any typos or grammatical errors lol || requests are OPEN! || divider by @firefly-graphics​

you watched with sad eyes as eddie stormed out of the cafeteria doors. moments before, he had begun to go on one of his rants about his disdain for jason and the rest of the basketball meatheads when the golden boy himself took it upon himself to dump his tray of spaghetti directly onto eddie’s head.

you frown, shaking your head and turning your attention back to the blonde. “seriously, jason? was that really necessary?”

jason just laughed it off, not seeing what the big deal was. “come on y/n, you heard how he was talking about us. he deserved it.”

you roll your eyes, rising from your seat next to him and gathering your belongings. “you’re a dick, you know that right?” you mumble to him before walking off. “don’t be like that, y/n. where are you going?” you hear him shout after you. fed up with his asshole behavior, you ignore him, flipping him off before heading out the doors to search for eddie.

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