#let him realise that there is more to life than what he has gone through | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stevebabey · 9 months

Text

totally didn’t expect the other part to do well at all but 😳 apparently i don’t know steddie fans. as such, have a part two <3 part one is here again, look out for the borrowed hunger games lines

“You’ve ruined your life, you know that, right?”

The kitchen had been basking in the lull of the quiet morning before Eddie had spoken up, breaking the silence. Steve blinks, realising he’s been zoned out staring at the swirling bubbles atop his mug of coffee and look up at Eddie across the table.

“Doing what you did.” Eddie continues. There’s this slight in his voice. Steve figures it’s not really aimed at him.

Chief Powell had agreed to not release the details of the case to the public for obvious reason. However, it went without saying that of the cops working the case, not all would be so free-thinking. There were plenty who deemed leaking the alibi and letting the town devour Steve’s reputation a more than fair consequence.

And, well, Eddie didn’t have any reputation left to tarnish or save.

Steve takes a sip of his coffee and lets the warm flavour coat his tastebuds as he tries to puts his thoughts in the right order.

He knows how Eddie sees this— sees it as this burden that he’s imposed on Steve’s life. That he had been able to accept it at first, the whispers of freedom tempting enough that he could be selfish enough to gasp them.

Then yesterday afternoon, Steve had come back from Bradley’s Big Buy with dried yolks splattered across the windscreen and regret howled through Eddie like a hurricane, fierce and wild. Realisation of what Steve had condemned himself to— no- what Eddie had condemned him to finally sunk in.

Steve can tell he’s been stewing on it all night. In the couple weeks he’s been here, staying in under the Harrington roof just down the hall from Steve, he’s surprised by how easily his brain has tacked on to Eddie’s habits. His little Eddie-ism’s. That’s what Steve calls them.

Like how Eddie’s nose will twitch if there’s something on his plate he doesn’t like, but he’s too polite to say it.

How he thumbs up and down the edge of a book when he’s reading, completely entranced. Doesn’t even notice his moving, twittering fingers.

How he’s always so much twitchier the morning after a sleep laced with terror after terror. It gives him away before Steve even see the bags under his eyes, the hollowness of his face.

Steve recognises that one from himself, from back when he’d gone through it all for the first time. The flinch is unshakeable when you’re convinced it’s all going to come back— that the world is going to tear itself up and spit out monsters you haven’t even dreamed of.

Today, Eddie isn’t twitchy like that. He’s tired, a sunken in face that comes from a bone-deep aching tiredness. He picks at his breakfast, bitterly avoiding the eggs on his plate.

And Steve can’t pretend to understand how Eddie grew up — can take his guesses but ultimately won’t get near the experiences he knows Eddie has lived through. Steve has only ever been on the other side. Stayed silent while someone else through snide comments and used the word fag like a jagged blade, to cut someone down.

So, he doesn’t know. Not even a year with Robin as his best friend and all her knowledge could’ve prepared Steve for the startling fear he’d felt when coming out of the store to the sight of a group of boys around his car, cartons of eggs in hand. One with a crowbar.

They would’ve smashed his windows if he had come out a minute later, he’s sure of it.

It had been like getting doused in icy water — the Letterman jackets on all of them, the sneers, still jeering taunts as they’d scattered across the parking lot. Steve had felt the bile rise in his throat as he got in the car and sat, staring at the steering wheel, his slimy fear melting and mixing with his anger.

Eddie’s point of view suddenly resounded within Steve in a way he hadn’t known before. Standing on tables, hollering about conformity, leaning in to every foul rumour about him— like a person drawing to full height, making himself as big as possible, to scare off a bear.

Steve gets that a little more now.

So, when Eddie tells him you’ve ruined your life he knows what he’s trying to tell him. Except, Steve doesn’t know how to say lightly that he’d gladly ruin his life to save Eddie’s. It’s too much — but Steve always is. Always loves in these big heavy ways that are too hard to handle.

So instead, he shrugs and says, “Consider it a trade.”

Eddie cocks his head, like a dog, just an inch.

“For following me into the lake and saving my life.”

Eddie scoffs and his head lolls back dramatically like what Steve’s said is ridiculous. “Jesus H Christ, dude, you saved yourself. I told you that I would’ve been too cowardly to come after you if Birdie and Wheeler hadn’t gone in first.”

He mutters the word cowardly with a hiss.

“Well then, a trade for drawing the bats away.”

“You mean the time I nearly became hamburger helper for the bats?”

“Christ, Eddie,” Steve scoffs. “I didn’t take you as someone who fished for compliments so hard.”

Eddie frowns, dropping his fork with a clatter on his plate. “I— what? I’m not- I don’t even—”

Steve cuts in. “You helped us and you saved my life, whether your horrible little brain can admit that or not. So,” He sits back in his chair with another little shrug and sips his coffee. “Equal trade.”

Eddie frowns, a crease forming between his brows. “No, not equal, Steve. You don’t get what you’ve done you— ugh, you just don’t—”

He huffs, cutting himself off, clearly unsure of how to voice his frustrations. He slumps back in his chair and eyes the eggs on his plate again with a glare this time.

Steve waits a moment and hopes he isn’t overstepping when he says, voice quiet, “I know, Eddie.”

Across the table, Eddie’s eyes raise to meet Steve’s and he doesn’t sound smug, he doesn’t sound angry, he just sounds defeated when he speaks.

“Do you?”

“Maybe not quite the extent of it until yesterday but, yes… I know.”

His words sink it and Eddie looks… affronted. His eyes get a little wide and a tremble finds his lips. Like the whole time he’d been convinced Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been getting into, that the reality hadn’t set in— that any moment he would rescind his alibi and throw Eddie to the cops and let them snap the cuffs back on him.

Steve hates that expression. Loathes that Eddie is so surprised that anyone would do this for him — something as important as keeping him alive and out of prison. Steve hates it because he knows it means that somewhere along the way, somebody had convinced Eddie that nobody would.

So, if he’s got to be the one to convince Eddie that someone will— that he will make the effort, will put his neck on the line because… well, isn’t that what Steve does best?

He’ll do it gladly.

Eddie picks up his fork and stabs his fork into the egg, the buttery yolk spilling onto the plate. Steve takes it as a truce, as him meeting him in the middle.

"So,” Steve swirls the mug in his hand and swills another sip back. Swallows it and takes a page out of Eddie’s book and goes the joke, leaning forward, forearms on the table. “If I’m gonna be your boyfriend for the foreseeable future I should probably know more stuff about you. Y’know, like, uh, the deep stuff.”

Eddie’s sunk back down in his seats but at Steve’s final sentence, he perks up. A smirking sort of grin crossing his face and Eddie twists a piece of his hair in front of his mouth. He hasn’t kept eating yet, too focused on the conversation.

"Uh-oh, the deep stuff.” He’s got that teasing tone in his voice. “Like what?"

"Like...” Steve scrambles to pull something from his brain. “Um, what’s your favourite colour?"

“Oh well, now you've stepped over the line."

Eddie’s sarcasm melts into a chuckle as Steve laughs, ducking his head instinctively. When he lifts his gaze, he’s relieved that Eddie looks a little lighter. Not much but a smidge of difference — Steve can see it if he squints. He’s sure it won’t be the last conversation they’ll have about this but for now, it’s settled.

Curiosity piques in Steve and he tries to sound casual when he says, “No, really, what is it?”

Eddie blinks and curls his hair around his finger once more, tugging it lightly. He seems to be considering his answer, eyes dropping to the sweater Steve’s donning.

“Yellow.” He finally says. “Not mustard but, y’know, lighter. Colour of the moon on Halloween or…”

“Cheese?” Steve suggests.

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, the right kind of cheese, sure. What about you? Favourite colour?”

Steve considers it — for the longest time, it had been red because Tommy had told him that red or blue were the coolest colours to like, way back in third grade. No one has asked him since then.

“Pink, actually.” Steve admits, hand coming up to brush across his nose, trying to hide behind the motion. He envies Eddie’s long curls suddenly. He feels the need to explain, more words rolling off his tongue. “Like, y’know, when the sun starts to set, like all dusky, it’s just… nice.”

Eddie’s staring at him peculiarly, his lips parted yet quirked up in this faint smile. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d call it awe. Breaking his stare, Eddie chuckles again, finally properly picking his fork up to finish his meal.

“Steve Harrington.” He murmurs warmly, more to himself. His lips twitch with a smile. “You just keep surprising me.”

—

some people wanted more 🤲 uh get tagged idiot - normally i don’t do taglists but u were all so kind as to reply to the post & i didn’t get a chance to say thank u for ur lovely words! this is my thank u! have sum more!

@friendlyorange @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @lostinadmiration @life-love-musicaltheatre @oldlovershippiemusic5 @phoeniceae @catateme9 @lolawonsstuff @justagaypanda @pluto-pepsi @whoopstie @scenesofobx @justforthedead89 @musical-theatre-gay @theperksofbeingstjimmy @ikilledabuginthewall @imauselessartist @fridgebaby @lingeringmirth and uhhh @corrodedcoughin cos i still do a little squeal when u rb my tings even tho we’re mewchies :D

#ignoring the other characters rn lmao #i wrote it in a day. Sue me #something about like eddie being convinced that steve Doesn’t Understand #cos if he did he wouldn’t have done this!!#and steve being like i know eddie… i know #I Knew It And I Did It Anyways #steve’s puts-himself-on-the-line selflessness vs. eddie disbelieving he’s worth it #[street fighter voice] FIGHT!#uhhhhh does baby boy steve even know he likes men yet? probably notttt #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#ruby writes steddie #steve x eddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie hurt/comfort

2K notes · View notes

hoonvrs · 6 months

Text

CHILD OF DIVORCE — l. heeseung

PAIRING heeseung × fmr

DESC. yours and heeseungs breakup through the eyes of nishimura riki

GENRE angst, 3rd party perspective

WARNING mutual breakup, mention of parental issues, riki has attachment issues, he’s also irrational but aren’t we all

W. COUNT 0.8k

S. NOTES why did i have so much fun writing this

to say riki considered you and heeseung his parents was an understatement.

he boy genuinely believed you were. so it's safe to say that when his heeseung hyung ( read: dad ) came home to their apartment late to their weekly boys' night and dropped the news, he was devastated.

“me and y/n broke up.“

riki could feel his whole world collapse, suddenly feeling ten again when his parents sat him down to tell him that his mum and dad were getting a divorce and dad was going to be moving back to his old city.

in hindsight, he should’ve consoled his hyung who didn’t look like he had just broken it off with his girlfriend of four years and the woman everyone believed he’d marry one day. he should've gone up to him like a good friend and given him a few words of comfort — maybe even a hug.

but instead, he felt anger. it was selfish, but he couldn’t realise his irrationality over the splitting feeling in his chest, and heeseung's reaction — or lack thereof — didn’t help but wedge a nail in the crack and hammer it down.

he couldn’t make out what the rest of their friends were saying, feeling all his senses suddenly muffle, giving his emotions nowhere to go but out, “what do you mean you broke up.”

the room suddenly felt colder. all their friends stopped talking and froze their gazes on him. seeing sunghoon from his peripheral, sending him a questioning look, but his vision tunnelled on the eldest, who was still standing near the entrance. “you can’t just break up, not now.”

confusion settled on the elder's face, overtly not expecting this reaction from him, “what do you mean i can't? it's my relationship, and we both ended it.”

riki was starting to feel antagonised, seeing faces look back and forth between him and the other, so he stood up in an attempt to size himself up, refusing to see the irrationality of his point. he felt like heeseung was being inconsiderate by breaking up something riki relied on without thinking of the others who'd be affected outside of the relationship.

everyone in their friend group was aware of his abnormal attachments, evident in the shirt he refuses to throw away because it was his father's, even if the fabric had more holes than not, or the two sizes too big shoes his sister gifted him, insisting he would ‘grow into them’ and now yours and heeseung's relationship.

healthy relationships weren't the norm in his life growing up, so by default, riki was hostile and withdrawn towards you the first few times heeseung introduced you as his new girlfriend. reminding himself constantly at the back of his mind that all relationships must come to an end and with every problem heeseung brought home, he was convinced it was near.

however, he must have underestimated you. one year became two, then four, and riki had become accustomed to his life with you. finding himself excited every time you’d come over whenever he was around because you had always seemed to favour him slightly, giving him the best meat cuts whenever you’d eat out together, or saving him the corner of the brownie because you knew it was his favourite part.

maybe it was silly to let you grow a home into the hole in his heart that was carved by his mother, seeking maternal comforts from you and allowing you to become a constant in his life.

but then again, all relationships have an end but riki wasn’t ready to let this one go. “so what? that’s it? you’re just going to end it here after everything?”

“look, it was a mutual breakup. we both just don't feel the same as we did before, so we broke it off like adults. i wish her all the best, just not with me.”

the split started to spread throughout his whole body, feeling his knees start to weaken under the weight of his emotions. when he started to feel his throat clog up and his eyes start to burn, he quickly made his escape, pushing past his hyung making sure to knock their shoulder on his way out to show he wasn't happy with the new change.

he could hear them discussing what happened after slamming his bedroom door, the thin walls leaving no word left unheard, drilling each question into his mind.

maybe then he should’ve left and apologised for his outburst, but grief is a funny feeling.

even though the relationship wasn’t his and never was to begin with, riki had gotten too comfortable living vicariously through you, and now he wanted someone to take responsibility for feelings only he could be blamed for.

but that’s another thing about grief. there’s always someone you want to pin the blame on. someone who caused this emotion to spiral and settle at the pit of his stomach without anywhere else to go leaving it to make itself home in his body.

and it wasn’t going to be him.

perm taglist @mesopret @whoschr @haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @boyfhee @lazysmushi @flwoie @kocokookie @kyexvly @seongclb @dammit-jjk @flwrshee @produmads @teddywonss @aleiouvre @dneltrise @aleiouvre @nyxvrse @yohanabanana @whois-alexis @sngvhs @tinyegg @sserafimez @satsuri3su @yuemvi @chirokookie @idk-tbh777 @s00buwu

1K notes · View notes

multifandomimagin3s · 1 year

Text

They have a crush on you (HC's) - Team 141 + König

Requested by Anon

Simon "Ghost" Riley

*Honestly I could write an essay on this complicated man, he's such an interesting character - but I've summed up some HC's below*

This guy is so hard to read, but at the same time he's not.

At first glance, he's a hardened man who keeps his cards close to his chest and never lets his guard down around anyone. And that's true.

Given everything he's been through in life, that amount of trauma is bound to have a long-term effect on every aspect of his life - not to mention the fact that he's probably learned to repress all of that shit for most of his life.

So I reckon that even if he did have romantic feelings towards you, it would take him a long, long time for him to even process what he's feeling - he's not stupid by any manner of means, more so he doesn't know what to do with this newfound information.

He would probably try and be mean to you - not that he was ever truly sweet on you in the first place, he couldn't let people know he had a soft spot; a weakness.

If you were part of 141, he would probably try to completely ignore you - unless he physically had to speak to you, like if you were on a mission together ((ngl I think Price probably would put the pieces together and would try to push you both together by sending you off on the same mission - fulfilling his Dad Captainly duties)).

You'd probably have known Ghost for a while before he starts to open up to you - it's superficial stuff, like maybe when his birthday is or his favourite food, little details that didn't really give any crucial information away, but you knew better than to pry as it would probably just make him shut himself away more.

He'd probably be protective of you - like if the team were out at a pub after a mission gone well, and there was a creepy guy bothering you, he would loom over you to scare the guy shitless with piercing, cold eyes.

We all know that as soon as Soap figures out that Ghost has a crush, he's going to absolutely want to take the piss out of him for it...he just needs to pick his words carefully, since he chooses life :))

It's hard to tell when or if he would actually confess his feelings to you - I can see it happening in one of two ways:

1 - You almost died on a mission, and he deeply regretted not telling you before when he thought you weren't going to make it back to base in time; he visited you every day while you were in hospital, and ended up bluntly just coming right out with how he felt because he needed you to know.

2 - Soap tells you before he can. With this scenario, I don't see Ghost blowing up in a fit of rage - it would be the silent death stare with the promise of an arse-kicking in the training room, maybe even making the Sergeant clean the bathrooms with a toothbrush for a few months for good measure. Ghost probably wouldn't even deny it, and would wait for you to come to him... and whatever happens next is a mystery ;))

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

*Ahh my fellow Scot - just to preface, Scottish slang and dialects vary across the country and I'm not 100% sure where Soap is originally from, so I'm just going to improvise and use local slang from where I'm from ~*

My guy wears his heart on his sleeve - he's naturally very flirty with you from the get-go, so it wasn't hard to figure out that he fancied you.

"Hello, Darlin', if yer wantin' a tour of the base, don't be feert* to gie me a shout ;D" [feert = afraid] [gie me a shout = ask me; gie = give].

With his flirty nature, it was difficult to discern if he was actually being serious about liking you, or if he was just flirty with everyone.

He'd probably realise that he was going about things completely wrong, and would make normal, friendly conversation to get to know you - he just wants to prove that he's a good guy and not a raging hornball :(

The longer time goes on, he starts to tell you more about his life outside of the SAS - he comes from a big family, he's the youngest sibling, his favourite colour, etc.

I can absolutely see his chest puff up a bit with pride when you compliment his skills - he disposes bombs and risks his life all the time, its his job and he doesn't expect praise other than a curt "good work" from his superiors; but from you, the tips of his ears are turning red, and a smile is practically splitting his face ~

Definitely doesn't use the excuse of training to get some time alone with you - not in a creepy way, he just likes spending one-on-one time with you.

If he really trusts you, he asks you to help trim his hair - he did do his mohawk mostly by himself but trying to do the back of his head on his own was an actual nightmare.

Likes watching the look of concentration on your face as you make sure that his hair is even - winks at you when you catch him staring~

(Y/N): There we go - a job well-done, if I do say so myself.

Johnny: *just admiring your smiling face, smitten*

Would probably ask you out then and there, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Certified Best Boy™.

Captain John Price

This guy doesn't fuck around - he's older, mature, and knows what he feels, and straight up tells you.

He'd call you into his office for a "chat" - queue you absolutely shitting yourself, being called for a chat with your superior in any circumstance automatically has you going through everything you've ever done prior to this moment to see what he could be mad about...

If you were a Private or any rank beneath him, he probably might hesitate to tell you a bit; HR really wouldn't like it but then again they wouldn't need to know... ;))

If you were a medic, nurse, doctor or civilian, he wouldn't hesitate to tell you.

The Team wouldn't know he even had a crush on you - even if you were on base, as a soldier or medic, they wouldn't have a clue.

The only time they grew suspicious was after they had all been to the pub and after a few too many drinks, one of the new recruits started talking about you and how he thought you were fit; Price's eye twitched slightly, eyeing the recruit with a poker face but with a slightly flash of anger in his eyes, cigar between his teeth.

"Bit inappropriate to speak of a comrade like that, Private, don't you think?" The Private sheepishly let out an apology.

Gaz and Soap gave each other a knowing side-eye; Soap looked to Ghost, who stared back blankly - he'd figured out that the Captain liked you ages ago, he was just waiting on everyone else catching up.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

I see him as another guy who wears his heart on his sleeve, so to speak.

I think he's the silent type though - while Johnny will flirt with you openly, regardless of where he is or who he's around, I think Kyle would be more discrete about it.

At first, it would be the little things like making you your favourite tea when he's making his own cup - sometimes he'll just make you your own, delivering it to you with a little smile.

He even offers to spar with you during training - he wouldn't go easy on you but he would be missing the usual fire that he has when training with other members of the team, he doesn't want to hurt you :((

As he gets more comfortable with you, and you with him, he absolutely loves to wind you up.

I think he'd be a genuinely funny guy, so be prepared to laugh until your sides hurt.

He'd probably express his feelings for you in a cheesy but still down-right cute way; probably shows up at your door with flowers and asks you out on a date.

((Proud Dad™ Price is just around the corner))

König

Another certified Best Boy™.

Honestly, he probably didn't speak to you at all for the longest time - not because he was intentionally trying to be rude but because if he feels like he has nothing good to say, then he just won't speak at all.

His social anxiety probably fluctuates day-to-day; one day he feels alright, can make small talk with others on base and do whatever he needs to do. But then the next day, he won't leave his room unless he has to, and when he does he's just this hulking mass of poorly concealed anxiety.

I think his anxiety would probably accidentally be projected outwards and would make him appear more intimidating, especially when all people can see are his eyes underneath his hood. Poor baby :(

He definitely knew that he had a crush on you - he's anxious in social settings, crowds, and he knows what that feels like - but with you? He gets full-on butterflies and he's scared to speak in case he says something embarrassing.

You'd most likely have to make conversation first, keeping it casual as to not scare him off - ironic, since the man is over 6ft and is built like a brick shithouse.

It would take time but he'd slowly open up bit by bit.

The first time you saw him out in the field - completely different ballgame entirely.

Who is this guy and what has he done with Konig??

He probably confesses his feelings on the way back from a mission, still high on adrenaline and confidence.

Oh he absolutely full-on panics when the adrenaline wears off and the penny finally drops...but he meant what he said. He really likes you, Maus.

#simon riley #soap mactavish #konig #kyle gaz garrick #captain price #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #soap mactavish x reader #konig x reader #gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #call of duty #cod mw2 #multifandomimagin3s

3K notes · View notes

flowercrowngods · 1 year

Text

based on this post, because at this point i think it's safe to say @unclewaynemunson is actually my muse or something (hi anna i hope this is okay even though it’s, like, way angsty and way too long huh)

🤍 also on ao3

Two days after Starcourt, concussed and beaten, Steve has a seizure.

His ears are still ringing when the doctor gives him a stern glance over the rim of his glasses and pronounces him unfit to drive. No, in fact, he claims Steve poses a real danger to himself and others if he sat behind a wheel again.

Immediately, Dustin and Robin jump to promising that they won't let him do that, and in another life Steve is sure he would be grateful, or at least reasonable about it, but in this one he has a horrible second where the floor falls out from under him and he wishes, for just one second, that his head had been shaken a bit more, just enough to–

It makes him nauseous even thinking that. Everything does, lately. He closes his eyes against the offensive brightness of the hospital room and lets the sound of Dustin's and Robin's voices wash over him as he takes a moment to really take in what the doctor's orders entail.

He can't drive anymore. No more late night drives to watch the street lights pass and lull him into a safer state of mind than his bedroom walls could. No more driving the kids to their DnD sessions, no more taking Robin anywhere at the drop of a hat, no more bickering, no more reign over the music, no more stern glances through the rearview mirror, no more "Shut up, Wheeler, or you're leaving the car."

No more "Thanks, Steve!", no more "I'll bring some of mom's cookies if you drive us to the arcade", no more "You're the best" or "You're a lifesaver" or "I owe you one".

No more place for him in the group, no more use for him, no more...

No more. Nothing. Now he's just Steve, would-be lifesaver, 'has-been babysitter', 'could-have-been somebody until he lost his license to drive because he wasn't quick enough, wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough'. Just Steve.

He doesn't know how to be that. Who is Steve Harrington without his car, without the one thing he was good for anymore?

The pit in his chest is deep enough, dark enough to pull him in, and for a moment the very thing he is good for is misery.

He waits until a nurse makes everyone leave for the night, and then he cries. It makes his head hurt, pressure building behind his eyes, but he's used to being in more pain than any teenager should be in, so he curls in on himself and hides underneath the blanket.

Here's to hoping the others won't notice just how useless he is now. Not too soon, anyway. He wants another month. A painless month filled with laughter and hugs, and then they're free to leave, to pull back slowly. Calls unanswered, radio channels changed so he won't reach them, sheepish apologies and rain checks, because now Nancy will drive them. Or Jonathan. Hell, maybe Max will take the risk just to avoid him.

---

He gets a week of daily visits in the hospital, the doctors and nurses insisting on keeping him here, a watchful eye on his vitals, scanning his head three times during his stay, insisting he has head trauma of a severely worrying degree.

Nancy picks him up from the hospital and it's awkward, tense, too much left unsaid between them but there's no one else to do it. Steve's hands are shaking, gripping the seatbelt the whole way home – and then his heart falls when he sees his Beemer in the driveway. The glorious, trusty, wonderful, best fucking car anyone could wish for. His baby. His.

He throw up into the brushes when he realises that he won't get to take it on one last ride. Maybe he shouldn't be so attached to a car. Maybe he's being pathetic about it. At least he can explain away the fat tears in his eyes now, and Nancy doesn't press.

The first thing he does when Nancy is gone is calling Robin, and she's excited when she says, "I'll come right over!" and Steve wants to ask, how, but he keeps his mouth shut, biting his lip. It's stupid, but the thought of someone else driving Robin over makes his skin crawl.

"Alright," he says instead, his voice raspy, and he hangs up before she can detect something in his voice.

After that, he goes outside again and runs his hand along his Beemer. It's shining in the sun; he had it cleaned the other week, the full program, every step in the book to celebrate four years since he got her.

"Four years, huh," Steve says, his nail catching on a minor scratch that isn't even visible but might be more familiar to him than even his home. "Damn good four years."

He's talking to his car. God, it's so stupid, it's so stupid, it's so stupid–

Steve's knees give out and he gives in to the desire that's burning under his skin sometimes, the desire to just sit down and ignore the world. Because everything is less real when you're sitting down somewhere you're not meant to be, and the ground is warm, and Steve just wants the world to go. His head is leaning back against the warm metal of the driver's door, and he closes his eyes for a while, his head still spinning, his ears still ringing, everything still awful.

After a while, there’s a shadow followed by a weight settling down between him, a head landing on his shoulder, a hand taking his.

"I'm so sorry, Stevie," Robin says. The lack of dingus makes it more real, somehow. More tragic. More pathetic.

"I'll live." And it feels a bit like a lie.

---

He gets his month. A month filled with barbecues in his backyard, the kids coming by after school to check on him, and Robin has practically moved in. Joyce picks him up on Friday nights for dinner at their house for a change of scenery.

It’s a good month, though Steve feels trapped. Caged. A bird without his wings, a boy without his car. Steve without his one purpose, the one thing he was good for. He has to be picked up because they don’t trust him walking, or they have to come to his place. And soon the worried glances that are thrown his way are too much, caging him further, reminding him of what this is. A pity party — quite literally. No one trusts him anymore, there’s always someone jumping to help him, not caring or listening to his protests.

And he can’t leave, because “What if you have a seizure in your room?”

It makes him want to scream.

Maybe it shows, or maybe everyone’s just fed up with him now that he can’t provide his taxi services anymore, but after summer the Byers dinners stop and the kids pull away.

“Told you that’s all I’m good for,” Steve says with a mean, pained huff as he hangs up the phone. Claudia said Dustin isn’t home, but he could hear the kids in the background. It hurts more than it should.

“What is?” Robin asks from her place on the floor with her back against the wall.

“Nothing.”

She frowns. “Come on, dingus, you can’t start and then—“

“No, I mean it. Nothing. That’s what I’m good for now that I can’t drive them anymore.”

“Bullshit!” she says, and it comes out so harsh that it makes Steve flinch. He swallows. Right. Robin isn’t hear to listen to him whine about how he feels like he has no place in this town, in this group, in this life anymore now that his head is so fucked up he can’t even be trusted to live alone.

That’s why Robin is here, right?

The babysitter becomes the babysitted… or something.

She doesn’t care, not really. She doesn’t listen. She doesn’t ask.

“Steve, they’re kids.”

“Yeah, well. So am I.”

He turns away from her and ignores the tears threatening to fall. The door to his room falls shut and he would love to lock it just to make a point to the world at large, a point that it can’t shut him out if he shuts himself in, but he knows it’s too risky. If he has a seizure, Robin needs to get in.

He can’t even stay in his room alone without supervision anymore. What kind of a fuck-up is he becoming, where does it end? He’s already managed to chase away the kids, even Dustin only checks on him sporadically anymore, and it hurts. He wants to know why, wants to know what he did, how to take it back, how to get them back.

But then he remembers how it all started. Dustin needed a ride and someone to take a beating. Both of which he can’t do anymore without risking life and death of himself and others. He’s a safety hazard. He’s useless. He’s Steve fucking Harrington, which doesn’t mean anything anymore.

---

And then it’s spring, and Chrissy Cunningham is found dead in Eddie Munson’s trailer. The group is back together again, the Party assembled once more. And Steve, for a just one second, hopes that he can get it right this time, that he can do this again. One last time. Because Vecna slash Henry slash One surely is it.

But then they turn on him — even Eddie looks confused, which is a rather adorable look on him — the moment Steve tries to get a word in.

“You’re not coming with us, Steve.” That’s Dustin, and Steve just rolls his eyes, but then Robin joins in.

“Yeah, no, I’m with the gremlin on this, dingus.”

“Hey!”

“Oh shut it, Henderson.” She turns to him, her eyes softer but no less burning another hole inside Steve. “We can’t risk it, Steve.”

“Risk what?” It’s a challenge. His shoulders squared, his jaw clenched, he’s challenging her, and it’s cruel.

She holds his eyes, her expression icy, like he’s stupid. “We can’t risk you dying. We can’t risk you getting a seizure mid-fight or just by being in the Upside Down.”

“Hey, woah,” Eddie tries to get a word in, but Steve won’t hear him as the desperation, the loneliness, the feeling of being caged like a bird and still the only human left on a desolate planet, all that breaks free.

“We all know that dying in a fight is the only thing I’m good for anyway.”

The silence among their war council, as Max dubbed it, is deafening.

“What?” Lucas sounds small when he asks that, and Steve closes his eyes. He hadn’t meant for him to hear that. Any of them, actually. They weren’t supposed to know.

“Steve, that’s not true.” Dustin’s words are filled with disbelief and worry, and Steve hates the worry, it makes his skin crawl, it makes his heart race, it makes his fists clenched and it makes him want to scream again.

“What else then, huh?” he asks weakly. “What else is there? None of you even talk to me anymore since Starcourt. Since summer.”

“Because you were pulling away,” Nancy explains, though her words are weak and her mouth clicks shut when Steve looks at her.

“Because we’re scared.” Max this time, and Steve doesn’t want to look at her, doesn’t want to tell a child that she’s not allowed to be scared for him— not more than he is, anyway. It doesn’t make sense for him to be hurt. They don’t want him to die. That’s a good thing, right? They didn’t want to see him hurt, so they looked away. It makes sense.

But it also hurts.

Steve shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose before all but running from the trailer. He doesn’t make it far (“Stay close so we won’t have to worry”), just needs some fresh air and to sit down somewhere the world will become a bit less real again.

The stairs it is. He tries to breathe through the lump in his throat, clenching and unclenching his hands to get rid of the anger and the hurt and all that excess energy.

He doesn’t want to die, is the thing. The very thought makes him nauseous and panicky. He wants his life back. His car. The freedom to just jump in there and get away. He doesn’t want the cage or the worry or the hovering or the loneliness when he isolates himself from all that.

Face buried in his hands, Steve almost misses it when someone comes to sit beside him. The thick smell of leather and cigarettes tells him who it is without looking up.

Eddie doesn’t speak for a while, just sits with him as Steve calms down.

And then, after a while, he lights a cigarette and asks, “You get seizures, Harrington?”

Steve nods. “Sometimes.”

Eddie hums. “That sucks.”

He nods again, and then that’s that. But even though it was a rhetorical question and Eddie didn’t even need an answer, it feels pathetically good to be asked about something. About himself. It only makes the pit inside his chest deeper, cutting into his soul with a sharp edge, this tiny little moment of normalcy. He wants to cling to it. He wants to talk to Eddie. God, he hasn’t really talked to anyone in so long.

“Before Starcourt — remember, the mall? The fire? Yeah that was, uhm. More monster shit. And Russians who thought I was a spy and then… yeah. Anyway. Uh. We used to be friends, I think. The kids and I. They used to care — or I like to think that they did. And then I got one too many head injuries, and the seizures started, and then they… It became too much. For them, for me. And the caring stopped. And, like, it’s fine or whatever, but I still care, and I can’t let them do all that alone. I know that all I was good for was taking them somewhere with my car, but I can’t drive anymore, so now I’m just… I’m just Steve. No titles attached, no use or function or point.”

Eddie just stares at him, puzzled and intrigued and even a little sad, and Steve wants to laugh it off when the silence stretches.

“Sorry, that’s kind of a sob story, you—“

“Wait here,” Eddie says, stubbing out his cigarette before disappearing back into the trailer. Steve watches him with a confused frown but stays put. A minute later, the door flies open and a scandalised looking Max appears, followed by the rest of the crew.

“You what?!”

“Uh,” Steve blinks. “I what?”

“Eddie told us you think you’re useless and that we don’t like you and that all you were ever good for is driving us from A to B with, like, no personal value whatsoever,” Dustin fills in, sounding no less bewildered. “Is that true, Steve?”

And God, the kid is so good at making all his questions sound like dares that Steve instinctively wants to swallow and negate it, tell them that Eddie misheard, that he’s fine, that everything fine.

But then Robin’s whispered little, “Steve” stops him from doing that. In fact, the sadness and confusion on their faces makes the dams break once more, confronted with months of spiralling and no one to drag him out, no one to listen.

Tears spring to his eyes and he gets up from the stairs to properly face them. He shrugs. It’s as much of a confirmation as anything.

And then Dustin sprints forward and tackle-hugs him, burying his face in Steve’s chest with no intention to let go anytime soon.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into Steve’s shirt and Steve runs a hand through his hair immediately.

“It’s okay, Dustin.”

“No! It’s fucking not okay, Steve, stop saying that. You’re my big brother, you’re my best friend, you’re my hero! You’re the coolest guy I know and nothing’s gonna change that, okay?”

“Then why’d you leave?” His voice is so small, but Dustin only hugs him tighter.

“Because you were hurting and I was… I feel like all of that is my fault.”

“Why would it be your fault, Dustin?”

He shrugs, and it breaks Steve’s heart. Dustin thinks everything is his fault just like Steve thinks it’s his.

“It’s me who got you into the thing with the Russians. I insisted. And you were tortured for it, Steve! You… You told us to go, and we did, and then we came back and you were— you-“

“Hey,” Steve whispers, curling himself around and over Dustin. “Hey, no, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. None of that.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry I pulled away, Steve,” Dustin sniffles and looks up at him. “I swear it’s not because I think you’re useless. It’s just… I’m so scared.”

And it makes sense, somehow. The anger leaves Steve when he whispers, “Me too. And I don’t like it when you’re all scared and worried. I hate it.”

“I know. Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Shut up.”

And then they’re both laughing with tears in their eyes. Lucas and Max join them with their own promises that Steve isn’t worthless to them.

“Did you read my letter? You know, the one if…”

“No,” Steve says. “You told me not to.”

“Right. Anyway, read it. Whatever happens, I want you to read it. Because you’re my brother and you mean too much for me to, like, never let you know. But, uh. Billy died. And I hated him, but it fucked me up. And then you almost died, and then you almost died again; and then you just… collapsed. And I thought, I cant do this again, not with someone I actually like. Not with you. And I didn’t wanna watch. I watched Billy. I… I can’t watch you die, Steve.”

She’s crying by the end of it, and Steve pulls her against his chest. Shit, he hadn’t meant to make anyone cry like that.

“It’s okay, Max, I get it.”

“Not okay,” she shakes her head again. “I know it’s not. But—“

“I know.” He’s stroking through her hair. “I know.”

“Uh, guys? I hate to break up the heartfelt confession time,” Eddie chimes in. “But I think our window is closing.”

Right. The end of the world.

With one last squeeze to Max’s shoulders, he lets her go and they gather their things. Discussions about Steve’s joining their mission have been put on hold while their window is still open. They can continue this later.

Nancy drives while Max holds Steve’s hand in the back. They don’t talk and she has her headphones on, letting Kate Bush work her magic, but it’s fine. It feels a bit like healing.

He catches Eddie’s eyes on the other side and holds them for a while. Eddie smiles before looking away, and Steve does the same.

---

In the end, Steve doesn't climb the rope with them. He stays behind in Eddie's trailer even though every fibre of his being screams at him to join. But Nancy has a point when she explains to him that she and Robin got this. It's the first time he stays behind, and he hopes it will be the last.

They hug him before leaving, all of them. Promises are made to talk about this later, after, and he nods.

"Go save the world for me," he tells Robin, holding her tight, unwilling to let go.

"Only for you," she promises, and kisses his cheek before pulling away. "You better be right here when we come back."

He shrugs and gives her an encouraging smile. "I've got nowhere else to be, Buckley. Now go." The last words are whispered and it feels like goodbye. Steve should join them, he should be there! But his head is pulsing and he knows that one wrong move could leave him half blind with a migraine, and they don't need one more handicap.

The one thing he can do, though, is helping them climb the rope, and it makes him feel ridiculously proud, seeing them land safely on the other side, smiling up (or down?) at him. Robin and Nancy wave one last time before heading off.

That leaves him alone with Eddie and Dustin. The latter is already climbing the rope, itching to finally do something, preparing the trailer for their plan.

Only Eddie is left, and Steve looks over at him.

"Will you be okay, Steve?"

"Sure."

Eddie sighs and looks up at the gate, disbelief and resignation and even a hint of fascination in his eyes.

"It should be you," he says, and Steve frowns, confused. "You're the hero here."

"No," Steve huffs, smiling at the metalhead. "No, I'm no hero. The real heroes are already up there, and in California. The real hero died after Starcourt. I'm just the driver who lost his license, the boy with the bat. The protector who needs to be protected."

Eddie looks at him again, that kind of intense stare, the one that shows Steve that Eddie sees something in him. He wonders what it is, but isn't sure he wants to know.

"I think you're wrong, Steve." He says it with such gentle conviction that it takes Steve's breath away for a second, and something passes between them as they hold each other's eyes.

Eddie opens his mouth to say something, but then–

"Eddie!" Dustin is calling for him from the other side, and the boys snap out of their daze.

Steve steps into Eddie's personal space and pulls him to his chest. "Make him pay," he says. "But stay safe. Come back, okay? First sign of danger, you abort mission. Come back, Eddie. I'll be right here."

"Yeah," Eddie rasps, and he squeezes Steve once more. "Catch me when I fall through that gate in two hours?"

Steve laughs, a sad little thing, and he pushes Eddie away from him, hands steady on his shoulders. "Sure, big boy."

"Hey, that's my part."

"Say it when you come back, then."

This thing passes between them again, and then Eddie goes to climb the rope. Steve's hands find their way to his hips, steadying him, but Eddie is strong enough to pull himself up without problem. Huh.

"In the meantime, wrap your head around the fact that you're the one I'm coming back for, pretty boy."

And then Eddie is gone. Steve watches as he falls through the gate, landing on the mattress with more elegance this time, and then he, too, grins down (or up?) at Steve.

He gives a little wave, and then he is alone.

Plenty of room to think when your friends have gone on a suicide mission and you're the one who has to stay behind. The one who will have to do the explaining when things go south. The one who will have to watch and listen, helpless.

It makes him regret the past few months, the self isolation, all the times he pulled back, all the times he didn't push for an explanation or a conversation, all the times he hadn't asked the kids if they're alright because he was too caught up in all the ways that he wasn't.

God, he wants them to be okay. He wants to talk about this, wants them to tell him he's more than the driver without a license, more than the protector who needs protecting. He wants Eddie to come back and explain what he meant, say what he wanted to say. He wants...

He wants his old life back. But more than that, he wants them in his new life just as much. He wants to be brave enough for this new life and find a new purpose. Create one if he can't find it.

But he can't do it alone. He refuses to do it alone even one day more.

"Come back to me," he whispers, looking up at the gate from where he's sitting on the floor, back against the wall. "Come on guys, you've got this. Please work. Please, make the plan work."

And then, miraculously, it does. Eddie falls into his arms with an undignified squeal and the rest of the Party soon follow. They're unscathed, miraculously, and Steve cries as he holds them, all of them, in a group hug that makes the trailer smell like relief and grief and a new life ahead of them. Slowly, with an unnatural sound, the gate above them closes, and then silence reigns.

They cling to him now. Refuse to let go. Good thing he has nowhere to go as Lucas gasps and sobs into his chest, explaining what happened, that Jason almost destroyed the walkman, that Max could have died. And Steve runs shaky hands through his hair, pulling in Max, too, so the three of them can just hold each other for a second.

Dustin and Eddie are hugging beside them, and Nancy and Robin hold hands, a different kind of horror in their eyes, but they smile wetly at Steve as their eyes meet.

It's over. It's done.

They did it. They really did it.

Steve closes his eyes and holds Lucas and Max tighter. They don't complain.

---

Three days later, Steve's house is brimming with life again like it hasn't in months. Turns out, Hopper survived, and he hugged Steve for a whole five minutes, telling him he did good, he did great, he's a hero. Again with that shit that Steve doesn't believe, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Hop, so he just buries deeper into their embrace.

"It's good you're alive," he tells him, and the Chief sobs out a laugh.

"You too, kid. This town would be lost without you."

"Yeah, right," Steve laughs back, and then that is that.

Except, it isn't, because when he returns to the living room with Hop, Joyce and El in tow, everyone's standing, looking at him with timid expressions. Robin and Eddie are holding hands this time, and so are all the kids. They all look like they have something to say, and the only thing missing is a large banner that says INTERVENTION.

"Uh, what's going on?"

Dustin is the first to clear his throat, but only after Erica kicks him. "We wanted to apologise. For leaving you when you needed us the most."

Oh. Steve's shaking his head, placating words already on the tip of his tongue, ready to explain to them how that's not their fault, how that was all him, he could have said something, he could have asked, he could have–

"Steve," Nancy says, effectively cutting off any protest he could have voiced. "Just listen, okay? Don't say anything."

He looks at Joyce, who nods, and Hopper who looks about as lost as he feels.

Dustin continues then. "You deserved better, Steve, you really, really did. We all did, I think, but you... You put yourself in harm's way from the get-go."

"Yeah, you came to protect me when you didn't even like me." Jonathan this time. "No thoughts, just protection. I owe my life to you. Every single one in this room does, y'know."

"And what you got for it is severe head trauma and... us abandoning you." Nancy.

"You're not just the driver, Steve. You never were just a driver to us." Hell, even Mike is in on this? "You're annoying, you suck, and you don't even try not to act like you're everyone's big brother."

"You're family, Steve." Oh, baby Byers. That's what gets his eyes stinging and his lip trembling, so he bites down on it so they won't have to see. It's futile with the way they're smiling.

"Yeah. You're so much more than our babysitter," Lucas explains. "You're the best basketball coach."

"You actually listen to my music and read comics with me," Max continues with a smile. "You suck just a little less than everyone else in this town."

"Hey!"

"No, she has a point."

Steve's not keeping up with the who's who anymore, he's trying too hard to keep it together.

"You teach me new words," El says, smiling. "You give me your clothes, you take me shopping, you teach me how to deal with meanies."

And the list goes on. Everyone has something to say to him, something beyond the ways he can be useful. Something that he is to them, something meaningful, something that sounds a lot like purpose and family.

"And we were so scared, because you were hurt. Because of us. You were protecting us, and look where it got you. You're a hero, Steve. As real as they get, you are one."

"More than Wonder Woman," Max agrees. "More than Superman. You're Steve! And that's... He’s our hero."

"He’s our brother," Dustin says.

"He’s my son," Joyce adds, taking his hand.

"He’s our friend," Erica, Mike and El say in unison.

“He’s the one we stay for.” Robin’s eyes shine as she smiles.

“And the one we come back for.” Eddie’s smile is gentle, confident, and captivating. Steve can’t look away, even through his own tears.

---

In the following months, Robin gets her license and Eddie develops a sixth sense for whenever Steve needs to just sit in a car and ride around town, watching the street lamps pass and letting them lull him to sleep. There’s an upside to being a passenger, he finds, because he falls asleep like this a few times, always waking when Eddie kills the engine. He drives for hours sometimes, admitting with a blush high on his cheeks that he didn’t want to wake Steve.

Somewhere on the highway to Indianapolis, between three and four in the morning, Steve looks at Eddie in the soft glow of the night, and finds that he’s fallen in love.

And in the weeks and months and years that follow, he realises that that’s something new he’s good at.

#stranger things #steve & the party #steddie #steddie fic #but also not really. steddie is just something that happens along the way #this was meant to be short but uh. uh. whoops?#hi anna i am sorry feel free to ignore this i could have made this easier in everyone but they’re teenagers with trauma dammit #dio words #actually i just wanted an excuse to make steve sad. if you know me you know

3K notes · View notes

forays-into-fiction · 2 years

Text

Rub Her Nose In It

Eddie doesn’t realise Chrissy has been flirting with him until he does... or more accurately, until it’s pointed out to him. So, he and his girlfriend come up with a way to put it to a stop… and have a little fun along the way.

Request fill for @slightlyvicked hope you like it 💕

Minors DNI

Contains: Dom!Eddie/Sub!Reader, Uncharacteristically Bitchy Chrissy, Hints of Domesticity, Public Sex/Van Sex, Unprotected Sex, Sex Toys, Honorifics/ Petnames (Sir, Baby, Sweetheart, Princess), Oral (Female Receiving, Hints at Male Receiving), Cum Eating, Spanking, Slight Exhibitionism

Gareth had been looking for Eddie to ask something about their upcoming campaign, when he spotted them. Eddie and Chrissy huddled over by his locker, she was standing on tiptoe, whispering in his ear and giggling. Eddie laughed along too, when they parted, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and waved goodbye.

He spots Gareth and trots over to him, “Hey, man what’s up? Dustin said you needed to ask me something.”

“Man, what the hell was that?”

“Whatta ya mean?” He looks puzzled by the question.

“That, there with Chrissy Cunningham. She was all over you, what’s y/n gonna think about that?”

“It’s not like that, she’s just being friendly.”

“Don’t know about you but I don’t go around kissing all my friends on the cheek, batting my eyelashes at them and whispering in their ears. She was flirting with you.”

“No, she wasn’t. She’s just looking to score some weed. I’m sure she’s like that with everyone, anyway.”

“Looking to score with you more like and she’s not like that with everyone. Don’t think y/n hasn’t noticed either, why do you think she’s always so passive aggressive with her?”

“Really?” He gasps eyes widening in disbelief.

“Yes! For Christ’s sake are you honestly that dense Eddie?” He hisses.

“But… but Chrissy’s dating Carver…” He protests weakly.

“No, they broke up. How did you not hear about that? How did Chrissy not tell you first fucking chance she got?”

“I dunno, d’ya think that’s why Carver’s been extra hostile as of late?”

“Yeah probably, man.”

“What… what should I do?”

“Well, you gotta talk to Chrissy for a start, lay it all out for her. Tell her it ain’t happening… I mean it’s not, is it?”

“Jesus, how is that even a question? Of course not!”

Gareth holds his hands up in surrender, “Just checking.”

“I gotta let her down easy…”

“Do you though? I mean it’s not like she doesn’t know you’ve already got a girlfriend and ‘til recently she had a boyfriend. So, I don’t know what she was thinking.”

“Still, I don’t wanna hurt her though.”

“Whatever, just do it sooner rather than later. In case you haven’t noticed this is really hurting y/n.”

He’d gotten to the picnic table early, first time in his life he’d ever been early to anything. He’d gone over it in his head a million times, what he’d say to her when she got here. And then right on time she emerged through the trees, with a wave and a broad smile calling his name.

“Eddie, hey you’re on time. You’re never on time.”

“Yeah, uh take a seat.” He gestures to the bench across from him, but she ignores that and sits right up beside him.

He scoots back a bit before continuing, “Uh… so… before we get to business, there’s something we gotta talk about.”

She pouts up at him, batting her eyelashes, “Yeah, what’s that Eddie?”

He shakes his head, Jesus, how had he not seen it before.

“Umm… it has been brought to my attention that you have been flirting with me… and well it needs to stop.”

She slaps him across the arm playfully, “No, I haven’t silly… that’d be naughty.” Her voice drops into a teasing, sultry tone.

“Right… anyway, please stop it, I’m with y/n. We are happy together and I don’t want her to be upset.” He shifts even further back along the seat.

“Oh, is that what this is? Is she telling you lies about me, getting in your head? She getting possessive of you? You’re allowed to have friends, you know?” Her tone shifts, becoming defensive and accusatory.

“No. No, you know what, how about we leave this deal for another time and we both just cool off for a bit, ok?” He attempts to placate her.

She rises in a huff, “Whatever, Eddie. Let me know when your girlfriend stops being a controlling bitch, so I can get my weed then ok.”

Eddie sits there in a stunned silence watching her storm off, that was not what he expected at all. He rises in a daze making his way back to his van and beginning the journey home.

You’d decided to stop by Eddie’s to surprise him, making a start on dinner while you waited for him, listening to one of his cassettes as you work.

He enters his trailer to see you dancing around at the stove to one of his mixtapes, it brings a smile to his face.

“Honey, I’m home.” He calls out jokingly.

You spin around to face him and he holds out his arms for a hug. The two of you meet in the middle, arms wrapping around one another. He kisses the top of your head and murmurs, “Whatcha making? It smells good.”

You look up at him to reply, “Spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Oh yum, can’t wait.” He hums back at you.

You pull away moving back over to the stove “It’s almost done, just gonna add the pasta back in the pan. Also made some garlic bread, that’s just in the oven keeping warm.”

“You are an angel, don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d manage, you’re more capable than you give yourself credit for Eds.”

You plate up the food, packing away a portion for Wayne, and set the two plates down on the coffee table. Eddie takes a seat on the sofa and you sit beside him on the floor, leaning against his leg.

The two of you get stuck in, after a few mouthfuls Eddie breaks the silence, “Hey, uh not to spoil the mood, but there’s something I wanna talk to you about.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound good. Everything… everything alright?”

“Yeah… no… I don’t know.” He seems conflicted or maybe confused, you’re not sure which.

You bump against his leg, “Alright just tell me”

“So, um Emerson brought it to my attention that Chrissy has been flirting with me… and that it’s been going on for a while.”

Your face drops into a frown, “Mhhh, yeah I’d noticed.” You respond bitterly.

“Why… why didn’t you say anything about it?”

“I dunno, ‘cause I trust you I guess.” You shrug before taking another bite of your food.

“But it was hurting you, wasn’t it? You should’ve said something.”

“Of course, it hurt Eddie, but what was I going to say… ‘No, Eds you can’t spend time with her she’s just trying to get in your pants’. All that matters is that I trust you to do the right thing at the end of the day. You can be friends with whoever you want I’m not about to stop you-”

“Don’t really think we’re friends anymore. I tried telling her to stop with the flirting and she blew up on me started calling you names too. Somehow, I’m still not sure the message got through though.”

“So, what’re you gonna do now then?”

He shrugs, “You got any ideas?”

You pause for a moment in thought before giggling.

“What? You got something?”

“Well, maybe…” You begin hesitantly.

“Come on tell me.” He whines.

“Umm… I mean it’s not… it’s not the nicest thing in the world, but maybe we could… rub her nose in it a little.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well… what if, and you can absolutely say no, but what if you tell her to meet you somewhere and we ummm…”

“Go on…” He encourages.

“We let her catch us going at it, the way we do when we really lose it.”

He chuckles darkly, “You’re right it’s not nice, it’s fucking brilliant.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, let’s show her who I really belong to.”

“Awww, Eds that’s sweet in like the weirdest way.” You laugh.

“Alright, I’ll uh… let you know when I’ve set it up.”

“Hey, Chrissy I spoke to y/n and cleared everything up, she’s cool if I deal with you. You still after that weed?”

Her eyes light up and she nods eagerly, “Sure am Eddie, when you free?”

“How’s tomorrow around five?”

“Yeah, that’s good.”

“Can… can we meet by Lover’s Lake this time? You know Skull Rock?”

“Sure do. Why’d you wanna meet there?” She smirks slyly.

“Oh, no reason. Just gonna be in the area.” He shrugs trying to seem nonchalant.

“Ok sure thing.” She beams at him popping up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

He can’t suppress the shudder of discomfort but somehow, she reads it as excitement adding, “Can’t wait! See you there!”

She wiggles her fingers in his direction as he turns to leave wordlessly.

Eddie had asked you to wear your flowery little sundress. It was his favourite, yours too because every time you wore it the two of you ended up fucking at least once.

That’s how you ended up with your feet propped up against the dash, bottom of your dress hiked up to your waist, panties dangling off your ankle. You had one hand on your vibrating dildo shoved deep inside you, panting and moaning while he drove through the secluded forest.

“That’s it sweetheart, want you all nice and wet, stretched out and ready to go when we get there. Remember you’re not allowed to cum unless I say so.”

You nod your head mumbling in agreement.

He lets one of his hands drift away from the steering wheel, trailing his fingertips over your hand on the toy. Slowly he rests his hand over your own guiding the motions of the toy, in and out at a lazy pace. His fingers dip lower still running through your juices as they dribble out around the toy. Collecting your wetness, he brings his hand up to his mouth licking it away.

“Fffuuuuck… focus o-on the road.” You try to sound stern but it’s hard to manage with the pitiful moans tumbling out of your lips.

He chuckles, “There is no road baby, only trees and dirt.”

“Watch the fucking trees then… ughhh, fuck please… please need to cum…” Your hips raise from the seat, muscles pulling taut.

“Ah, ah not yet. Just a little longer.”

His hand drifts back to your quivering thighs, kneading and squeezing the soft flesh.

“You can do that can’t you, be my good girl… make me proud.”

His deep, rumbly voice washes over you and you feel your walls begin to flutter with a groan, your eyes squeezing shut, biting on your lip.

“Please Eddie… please sir… please…” Tears begin to run out of the corners of your creased eyelids.

“Not yet.” He taunts, drawing out each syllable. “You’re doing so good for me.”

Your eyes snap open, tension building and mounting ‘til you snap. It’s too late you’ve already started pulsing around the toy, “Fuck… no, no, no …I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Head thrown back with a scream, thrusting against the vibrator desperately, “Fuck, Eddie! Feels so good!”

As your body goes lax, sinking back in the seat his grip on your thigh tightens, “Was that what I think it was?” He leaves a light slap across your thigh in warning, “And don’t lie to me.”

You nod your head, ashamed, “Yes, sir. I’m sorry it was just… you… your hand, your voice I-I couldn’t hold back.”

“You know what that means?”

“Yes, sir… means I get a spanking.” You move to pull the toy out but he stops you with a word.

“No. Leave it in.”

“Wh-what? Please ’m sensitive.”

“Ok, you can turn off the vibrations, but leave it in. I want you to keep it there until I take it out and replace it with my cock.”

“Even when-.”

“Yes, even then.”

“Oh god.”

“Don’t worry we’re almost there and with time to spare.”

You squirm in your seat, acutely aware of the toy between your legs. He’s parked the van, pulled up right next to Skull Rock. He gets out circling over to your side opening your door. He runs a hand down your leg, still propped up on the dash, when he reaches your panties he slips them off your ankle. Stuffing them in his back pocket he mumbles, “I’ll hang on to these.”

His hands encircle your waist lifting you out of the van and setting you down in front of him. You squeeze your legs together to keep the toy in place. You know what’s coming, hanging your head bashfully you stutter out, “H-how many?”

He lifts your chin turning your head up to face him, he lays a gentle kiss to your forehead before answering, “I’ll go easy on you this time, I was pushing you very hard. Only ten this time and I’ll count them out for you, mmkay.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He tucks a stray hair behind your ear, hand dropping to your arm before continuing, “Need you to turn around for me.”

You spin around facing back into the cab, his palm presses between your shoulders guiding you down. You brace yourself against the passenger seat and push out your ass towards him.

He runs his hand down along your back slowly, pausing to rub one of your cheeks, continuing ‘til he reaches the hem of your dress. He scrunches the bottom of your dress, flipping it up to rest on your back, exposing your bare ass and dripping pussy. You let out a soft whine as a gust of wind cascades over your exposed flesh and he brings his hand back to your plump rear, kneading it firmly.

“You ready?”

“Y-yes, sir.” You answer shakily.

“Good.” He rears back his hand, brining it back down across your ass leaving a sting in its wake, “One.”

You whimper in response, tears welling in your eyes as he repeats the action.

“Two.”

He pauses for a moment, you can’t see what he’s doing, but you realise when the next hit lands. He’s spun his rings around on his fingers, you can feel them leaving an imprint on your skin.

“Three.”

He rubs his hand soothingly over that side of your ass before switching to the other and giving it the same treatment.

“Four.”

Your hands squeeze tight around the fabric of the seat beneath you, panting in soft, shallow gasps readying yourself for the next slap as tears run down your cheeks.

“Five. Halfway now, sweetheart. You’re taking it so well.”

You gasp as your walls clench around the dildo inside you in response, thighs trembling.

“You like that don’t you sweetheart, such a dirty little slut for me. Get ready, here comes six.”

He’s swapped sides again, you feel the toy slipping as your body jolts with the force of his hand. You clench down around it trying to keep it in place but it pushes you closer to the edge.

Before you know it seven and eight have come in quick succession and your head is falling forward into the seat, moaning into the material there.

“Thought you were gonna be a good girl today, you started off so well too. Wearing your pretty little dress for me. Didn’t think I’d have to punish you.”

“‘M sorry.” You wail, squeezing on the toy again your walls beginning to flutter.

“I know you are sweetheart, you’re such a good girl. I’m so proud of you, taking your punishment so well.” He croons as he soothes over your abused flesh with his hand.

“Ohhh fuck… Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” You chant like a prayer as your next orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your walls gripping the toy inside you like a vice, your cum dribbling all around it. He lands hits, nine and ten as you do so, counting them out.

“Did you just cum again? Fucking hell so impatient today, can’t even wait for me to give you what you really want. You wish that was my dick you were cumming all over, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, then why don’t I give it to you, you took your punishment so well after all, even if you did cum again without permission.” He twists the dildo around giving it a few thrusts as you whimper.

He flips you over suddenly, leaving you a little dazed, your back now pressing into the seat. You’re not sure when he did it, but he’s got his jeans and boxers rolled down to his knees already, cock flushed, bright red and leaking precum.

“Wanna see your face when I split you open with my cock.”

You gasp as he grabs your legs pulling you closer, ‘til you’re teetering on the edge of the seat. Hooking his hands under your knees he hikes your legs up over his shoulders, resting your calves there. He pulls out the dildo from where it sits, buried within you, tossing it into the van and replacing it with his own thick length in one swift motion.

He rests there for a moment, his hands hooking around your thighs squeezing them tight. Slowly he begins moving, shallow thrusts in and out, a steady rhythm.

You breathe in and out harshly still trying to catch your breath. You gaze up at him in admiration, taking in the flush that creeps up his neck, dusting over his cheeks. “You’re so pretty, Eddie.” You whine.

“Fuck, princess why you gotta be so nice?”

“‘Cause I love you and ‘cause it’s true.”

“L-love you too… but ‘re you sure you’re not just sayin’ that ‘cause you got my dick all up inside you?”

You giggle, “Ask me again later then.”

He groans, “God, it feels good when you laugh when I’m inside you… it makes your little cunt just ripple around me.”

You whine as he gives a more forceful thrust.

“Play… play with your tits for me.” He pants out.

You move to obey, kneading your breasts in your palms and twisting your nipples. His thrusts are getting sloppy and he loosens his grip on one of your thighs. Running that hand down the inside of your leg ‘til he reaches the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs he begins stroking it in tight little circles.

Your wetness seeps out around him, running along his length and down to his balls, your combined whimpers and moans ringing out through the trees.

“‘M gonna cum.” He growls, “You want it inside so when she gets here, she can see it fucking pouring out of you?”

You’d almost forgotten why you were even here in the first place, a little too cockdrunk and blissed out at this point. “Th-thought we were supposed to be showing her that you b-belong to me… not the other way around.” You manage to gasp in response.

“Yeah well, you belong to me, I belong to you, same thing. Now scream for me, cum all over my cock like you’ve been dying to since the beginning. Be a good little slut for me.”

He knows just what to say and you’re being swept away again, for the third time now crying out, “Fffuuuck… Eddie! Yes… God… fuck…”

You can feel his length twitching within you as he paints your quivering walls with his warm cum, crying out along with you.

He falls against you limply, forcing your legs up to your chest along with him, his curls falling forward into his face, panting heavily. You brush his hair aside to look into his eyes, “Sooo pretty.” You coo up at him.

“Christ that was something fucking else.” He exclaims.

“Fuck I know…but… she’s still not here. What time is it? Unless maybe she’s been and gone and we just didn’t notice?”

He props himself up with a hand by your shoulder, twisting the other to look at his watch, “Five ‘o three. I mean she could just be a little late, besides there’s something else I wanna do and if she hasn’t been and gone, this’ll be that much better for her to walk in on.” He grins mischievously.

You look up at him curiously, “What did you want to do?”

“I’m gonna eat my cum right out of you and if you just so happen to cum on my tongue, all the better.”

“Oh my god! Munson you will actually be the death of me!” You slap his chest.

“So, ‘re you saying you don’t want to do it?” He teases grinning down at you smugly.

You look away bashfully, “Well, no I didn’t say that.”

“Well, then let me get to work.” He chuckles and pushes himself off the seat, letting his cock slip out of you, your legs fall back down on either side of him.

He moves to kneel amongst the leaf litter on the ground. Pulling your hips to the edge of the seat he brings your thighs to sit by his ears. You pull yourself up with a hand on the headrest, sitting up to watch as he laves his tongue over your folds. He collects the remnants of his release with a low groan, probing at your entrance with his tongue.

It’s then that you hear it, cracking twigs, someone moving around outside. Then comes the call, “Eddie you here yet?!”

You make eye contact with her as she comes around the open passenger door, her mouth dropping open, frozen in shock.

“Oh my god, Chrissy! Shit, we forgot you were coming.” You slap on his shoulder but Eddie continues his ministrations between your thighs not letting up. You barely even have to play up your next reactions, “Oh, shit… fuck, Eddie like that… hmmmm… sorry, my boyfriend here is just insatiable. It’s not enough that he fucked me so hard I can’t walk, now he’s gotta eat his own cum out of me.”

Eddie refuses to relent, moving to suck on your clit hard, shoving his fingers in deep. He’s grazing over that soft, spongy spot that makes you see stars and just like that you’re cumming all over his tongue with sharp breathy gasps, head thrown back, eyes squeezing shut and thighs constricting around his head.

That snaps Chrissy out of it, she’s scrambling backwards, struggling not to trip over. God forbid, she ruin her revealing little outfit. She calls back, “Sorry! Fuck I’m sorry.”

You collapse back into the van laughing. Eddie’s head pops up, his chin slick with drool and cum, grinning at you, “So, how was that? Think she’ll be bothering me again?”

“That was perfect, somehow I think she got the message.”

“Good… you uh… wanna go again? Try for number five, I’m um… hard again.” He drops a hand to rub over his cock lazily.

“Jesus Christ you really are insatiable, come on I’ll just blow you instead.”

“Fuck, yes please.” He groans happily.

Chrissy had avoided the pair of you since then, never meeting your eyes in the halls. Until one day you see her at the grocery store and decide to have some fun with it.

You approach her from behind before she even realises you’re there, nudging her shoulder, “Hey, Chrissy! Eddie tells me you haven’t been buying from him anymore, you still smoking?”

She spins around to face you discomfort evident on her face, looking anywhere but your eyes, she replies, “Uhhh… yeah, um I get my stuff from Reefer Rick now.”

“Oh, cool. That’s good, I mean Rick doesn’t have a girlfriend now, does he?”

“Ummm no, not that I know of.” She shifts uncomfortably on the spot.

“Anyway, nice seeing you. Bye.” You wave over your shoulder smirking to yourself.

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #dom!eddie x sub!reader #request #slightlyvicked

6K notes · View notes

dumbseee · 11 months

Text

i’ll protect you.

f1 au/fic: in which y/n is a driver for ferrari, her and lando have been friends since childhood and started together in formula one. their closeness sometimes confused their friends. ask them if they were more than friends, they will laugh and say that they were just friends. but one day during a race, y/n got involved in a major crash. which made lando realise how scared he was to loose her.

lando norris x driver!reader

(fc: maggie lindemann)

warnings: mention of crash, carlos is still a mclaren driver with lando, mention of injuries.

note: english isn’t my first language so this may contains some mistakes xx (idk what to think about this one tbh)

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lewishamilton and 3 799 087 others.

y/n: ready for tonight’s race! your girl is going to get that damn podium, mark my words xx

landonorris: in your dreams kiddo

y/n: @.landonorris you’re three months older than me.

lewishamilton: good luck y/n!

liked by y/n.

fan1: WE ALL BELIEVE IN YOU Y/N

fan2: GO Y/N

fan3: with that car i’ll be praying for your safety first bestie

fan4: praying for your first podium!

lilymhe: i’m rooting for you!

alex_albon: @.lilymhe i’m literally right HERE

liked by y/n.

"dude, you should sit down." carlos’s voice echoed in lando’s head which almost made him jump. he didn’t even realise that he was walking around the hospital’s hallways like a maniac. the driver sighed and sat down next to his teammate, carlos squeezed lando’s shoulder to show him that he was there too.

a few drivers were at the hospital, waiting to know if you were okay. daniel, carlos, charles, alex and of course lando were there. to be fair, all the drivers wanted to come but crowding the hospital wasn’t the right thing to do so only your closest friends came while the others went back home but waited for news too.

"are you y/n l/n’s friends ?" finally a doctor came, lando immediately stood up and almost ran to the older man. "she’s out of surgery, she’s very lucky that the firefighters were quick to get her out of the car because she has some burns on her arms and legs but nothing major." the doctor felt kinda uncomfortable to have that many men surrounding him, but he added, "she has a broken arm and a sprained ankle. it could’ve been worse so whoever prayed for her tonight, it worked. she’s awake, so you can see her, but be gentle."

"you should go first." charles told lando, who still looked out of it. "i think she’d prefer to see you first than daniel or alex." he adds with a smile. "uh, first of all this is rude." daniel answer while pointing his finger at charles, which lighten up the mood. "we ALL know i’m her favorite."

lando smiled and thanked his friends before slowly entering your room. he almost choked on his own saliva when he saw you laying on your bed, looking lifeless. this wasn’t you, you were far from being lifeless, you were literally the life of the party. always smiling, cracking jokes, making fun of alex or george will the others would laugh. but there you are, breathing through tubes and covered in bandages. your eyes were closed, lando took a look at your face and swallowed back tears.

he hated it, he hated seeing you being hurt, he couldn’t close his eyes because he’d see the crash again and again. the sound of your car smashing against the barriers, the smell of burnt, gasoline, the sound of the ambulance, the audience’s screams and cries, the commentators struggling to find their words. for a second everyone thought you were dead, everyone including lando. for a second, he thought about a world where you weren’t there anymore, and the only thing he could see was the dark. a world without you meant a world where the sun wouldn’t go up anymore, where happiness was gone forever.

lando let himself fall on the chair behind him and completely broke down. the tears wouldn’t stop from running down his cheeks, he didn’t know that he was capable of crying that much tears. he couldn’t stop sobbing either.

"l-lando?" the driver jumped and immediately stood up when he saw that you were waking up. "y/n? fuck, y/n can you hear me?" he didn’t know if he could touch you, too afraid to hurt you even more. "yes i can so please lower your voice." you furrowed your eyebrows and opened your eyes. the sight before you broke your heart, a sobbing lando, with a worried expression.

"what happened?" you asked, while trying to get up but a sharp pain stopped you. lando gently pushed you back against the bed. "i almost lost you, that’s what happened." he softly pushed a strand of black hair away from your face and sat down, taking your hand in his. "fuck… everything is coming back to me now." you mumbles and bite your lip. you take a look at your body and notice a huge cast on your left leg and a second one on your right arm. you also had a few bruises on your face and left arm caused by the fire.

"how are you feeling?" he asked you, while caressing your hand softly. "could’ve been better, so not only did i not make it to the podium, but i also almost died, what a performance." you laughed and expected lando to laugh with you but he just dropped your hand and looked at you with a hurt expression. "wha-…"

"how can you say it like that? how can you joke about death when you almost lost your life for real? y/n i don’t think you understand how worried sick i was to fucking lose you! i saw everything! the whole crash happened in front of me! i saw the firefighters pull you out of your car, i saw you being literally lit on fire! i couldn’t even move from my car, i felt helpless and useless. i even wondered if the crash happened because of me." he snapped, he wasn’t yelling but his tone was loud enough for you to understand that he was really pissed at your joke.

you felt bad, you didn’t know that lando witnessed everything and now you felt terrible. how traumatic that must’ve been for him. you didn’t know how you would’ve reacted if lando had crashed in from of you. "lando, i didn’t know i’m-…" he cut you off again, he ran a hand though his hair. "let me finish, please." you bite your bottom lip and nodded.

"the thought of loosing you made me fucking sick. i threw up when i got out of the car, i wanted to see you so bad but the way your team stopped me from seeing you made me think it was over. and do you know what a world without you looks like to me? nothing, that shit cannot exist, because a world without you means a world without me. if you fucking die, y/n, best believe that i’m going with you." his words made you cry, silent tears kept streaming down your face. when he saw it, he closed his eyes and kissed your forehead.

"i didn’t want to make you cry, i’m so sorry." he continues to kiss your forehead and then kissed your cheek. "no, i’m sorry for making you so worried about me." you answer while grabbing his hand. he smiles at you and start to kiss every little bruise on your arm. his gentle gesture made you cry even more. "i swear to take care of you now." he adds while connecting his forehead to yours. you both close your eyes and enjoy the peaceful moment until you both heard noises coming from behind the door of your room.

"ouch! you fucking stepped on my foot, càbron!" carlos’s voice could be heard which made you smile. "move your ass leclerc, i can’t hear shit." now it was daniel’s. "all of you shut up they’re going to hear us!" alex added. "aie! carlos what the fuck! that was my foot!" charles almost yelled to his friend. "see how it hurts?" added the spaniard, with a devilish laugh.

lando and you both started laughing at your friends shenanigans, knowing damn well they were behind the door trying to listen to your conversation.

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, alex_albon and 1 690 097 others.

y/n: thank you for being my guardian angel <3

landonorris: always and forever my love

danielricciardo: i can’t believe you have no words for me when i had to sleep with carlos and he pushed me off the bed with his fat ass

carlossainz55: @.danielricciardo LIAR

alex_albon: @.danielricciardo i slept on a CHAIR

charles_leclerc: @.danielricciardo i slept on the GROUND.

fan1: im so glad she’s okay

fan2: OMG LANDO AND Y/N???

maxverstappen1: glad you’re okay y/n! can’t wait to see you on track again!

liked by y/n.

fan3: MY DREAM CAME TRUE

2K notes · View notes

childeel · 7 months

Text

"GREEN WITH ENVY."

✦ childe, zhongli, xiao, baizhu.

reaction to when the liyue men are jealous

notes — femme terms, fluff!

childe ⟢

childe is very secure in himself; he believes that he's pretty good-looking, he's very strong & he can fight very well. he 's confident, and his flirtatious personality has always seemed to work it's charm when been needed. he knows, he's all that you could want. and so, he's not jealous because he's insecure in himself, he's jealous because quite simply, he doesn't like sharing what's his. he understands completely, you're beautiful – absolutely divinity. you have such a warm aura and sweet personality that just draws people into you, wherever you go. you're heavenly beyond compare, and that's why you're his. if anyone were to try anything with you, childe would be quick to interrupt – barely even letting them get their full sentence out before he's got an arm around your waist, cold and daunting eyes piercing into whoever thought of bothering you. the other person probably only has a good ten seconds before childe sees this as an initiation for a fight.

zhongli ⟢

i don't think at all that zhongli would be a jealous man. he is a god after all, he's lived through hundreds of years; it'll take a lot more than the waiter in the xingyue kiosk admitting he thinks you're beautiful to get a rise in zhongli. zhongli would more than likely smile, nodding his head in agreement with the waiter. he's glad to hear you receiving compliments and praises from strangers in liyue, it's what you deserve. the only time he recalls feeling an emotion even somewhat close to jealousy was when the two of you were walking hand in hand through the streets of liyue; your hand had tore away from his all of a sudden, and zhongli was on guard whilst looking around frantically, trying to scan out any enemies. but, there were none... and where were you ?! when his eyes land on you, you're crouched in an alleyway just up ahead, cooing at the cat you found lazing around, hands petting lovingly at every part of it's fluffy little body! zhongli breathed a light chuckle, realising that his only rival in the competition for your attention, was of the feline species...

xiao ⟢

xiao probably wouldn't really understand his jealousy. being his precious girlfriend, xiao feels a strong sense of responsibility over you – he feels it's almost part of his life 's purpose to protect you and you keep you out of any harms way – and he does a good job. and so when he's watching you talk to a man simply passing through the wangshu inn, he's not sure why he feels this painful burning in his chest – and his stomach knots. you're smiling and laughing so it's clear to xiao you're not in danger, so why does he feel this overwhelming need to go and protect you, take you away from the man that was causing this cursed feeling in him. he continues watching for a few minutes longer, before the unknown feeling becomes unbearable for him, and he's by your side in seconds, startling the man in-front of you. with xiao 's sudden appearance behind you, you'd turn briefly with a smile, taking one of his hands in your own, quietly asking if there was anything wrong. but the feeling was gone now, it dissipated the instant he felt your warm touch against his skin. and so, xiao would shake his head no, remaining behind you with his chest pressed against your back, a hand lingering on your hip, for the remainder of your conversation.

baizhu ⟢

i think that similarly to zhongli, baizhu wouldn't be a particularly jealous person, and he would also be delighted to hear strangers throwing compliments your way. but sometimes; having a popularly adored girlfriend can be a little bothersome when all he wants is some of your attention ; ( a man had come into the pharmacy to pick up a prescription, and was struck by your looks; feeling the need to stay a few more minutes to praise your beauty. baizhu wouldn't interrupt your conversation at all — like i said before, he'd be happy for you receiving such compliments, but you can only call someone beautiful so many times before it gets boring! ... when the man finally leaves — you'd breathe a lil sigh of relief, returning to your boyfriend, who as much as he tried to hide it, looked rather disheartened. he didn't need to say anything as you practically threw yourself onto him, peppering the sweetest kisses along his face. the annoying little feeling in his chest would quickly fade, a bashful smile curling at his lips.

#genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #childe #childe x reader #tartagila #tartaglia x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #baizhu #baizhu x reader

973 notes · View notes

multi-fandomlovers-world · 11 months

Text

141+Alejandro, Rodolfo and Konig Finding Their S/O Asleep

TW: SFW, Very Fluffy

Not my gifs--------All supported by Tumblr

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

With his job, he never really knows what time he'll be home. Most of the time, it ends up being late at night

You usually try and stay up til he gets home but tonight you were more tired than usual

You curled up onto the couch and ended up falling asleep with the TV on, playing whatever that was on

When Simon arrived home, he walked into the living room, finding you curled up and fast asleep

He admires you from afar before getting down his knees and caressing the side of your cheek, pushing your hair out of your face

He's fallen back in love with you all over again ❣️

He kisses the side of your forehead as he turns off the TV and picks you up, carrying you into the bedroom

He murmurs how much he loves you, that you are his world

He makes sure he doesn't wake you as he sets you down on the bed and lays besides you, wrapping his arms around you and falling asleep with you in his arms

John "Soap" Mactavish:

Like Ghost, he never knows what time he'll be home either but he will always send you a text, letting you know when he's on the way

You normally are up and waiting for him to come through the door, but you found yourself more tired than nornal

You got yourself comfy on the bed and ended up falling asleep

When John arrives home, he tries to stay quiet, trying to make sure he doesn't wake you up Incase if you are asleep

Once he reaches the bedroom, he sees you are fast asleep. He drops his stuff silently and changes into a fresh clothes

He smiles at the sight of you. To him, you look so peaceful. He caresses the side of your cheek and you find yourself waking up from his touch

He's so head over heels for you (Literally)

"Hey, Bonnie, I'm home. God I missed you so much"- John says, in a whisper voice as you pull him in and kiss him passionately

He holds you and you end up falling back asleep on his chest while he runs his hand through your hair and falls asleep

John "Captain" Price:

If John was at home, he's usually trying to spend time with you or he gets caught up with work or going over reports

He'd been working most of the day and you'd ask him if he could come be with you for a bit so he could take a break

He tells you he'll be with you soon ( 2 or 3 hours later cause he's a workaholic sometimes)

Some time had gone by, you decided to go lay down on the bed and fall asleep

John stopped what he was doing and realised you hadn't come in to check on hin in awhile. While he's on the phone with Kate, he walks into the bedroom, finding you asleep

"John is everything ok?"

"Yeah.. yeah Kate. Everything's great. It's just the misses. I'll talk to you when we get back on base", John says, hanging up the phone with Kate and goes over to lay next to you

He covers you up with a blanket and admires you. You look so beautiful to him. He kisses your cheek

After that, he's wrapped his arms around you and ends up falling asleep next to you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

If Gaz is at home, he's normally spending so much time with you before another mission comes up. He doesn't want to waste any time and prefers to spend quality time with you

One day, you asked him if he could help fix the sink and he did. You tried to help him out but started feeling tired so you went to go lay down on the couch

"Hey babe, do you ha-" He stops talking, as he sees you peacefully asleep on the couch.

He comes over and kisses your forehead then covers you up with a blanket.

"My beautiful girl" Gaz says before he goes to finish the sink before laying down next to you and holding you by your waist

While your asleep, he's fixated on you and how beautiful you look. Your his everything

He'll think of his future with you and how amazing it would be. Keeping you in his life is what he wants

Alejandro "Colonel" Vargas:

Like Price, he tends to get worked up in his job sometimes but once he's with you, he's all yours

You were spending time together since it was his day off and ended up lounging outside on a nice day

Alejandro was finishing up cleaning up the grill from a cookout that you and Alejandro did

As he was talking to you, he noticed that you weren't saying much so he turned around and saw you fast asleep

He smiled and admired you before picking you up and taking you inside to the bedroom, resting your head on the pillow.

He pushed your hair out of the way and kissed you softly on your temple

"I love you, mi amor. Mi vida"

He forgets that he needs to clean because he's focused on you. You're his love, life and treasure. He ends up laying next to you and cuddling with you

He runs his hand over your shoulder and through your hair, looking at how beautiful you are to him. He ends up falling asleep next to you

Rodolfo "Second-In-Command" Parra:

Once he's away from work, he's all yours. Work isn't his priority once he's home

He knew that you had a long day at work this day so he ended up taking care of you. He gave you some tea as well as ending up making lunch for you and him

He listens to your long day and gives you plenty of kisses and hugs to help brighten your day

Once he hears you go quiet, he stops everything and goes to check on you

He comes into the bedroom to find you fast asleep on the bed. He leans against the wall and smiles, admiring you from a distance for a second

After this, he'll cover you up with a blanket and end up laying next to you. He caresses your cheek or back. Around this time, he's thinking that you're the only one for him and that's all he wants

"Soy tan afortunado de tenerte. Te amo mucho (I'm so lucky to have you. I love you so much)"

Konig:

Once he's done with work, the only thing that is running through his mind is going home to you and spending time with you

As soon as he gets home, he calls out for you but no answer. He reaches the bedroom, to find you asleep peacefully

He smiles and pushes the hair out of your face, taking off your glasses that you left on and placing the book on the bed stand

He lays next to you and pulls you close to him, leaving no space between the two of you but is careful enough so you don't wake up

He hears you hum softly and snuggle into his chest

"Maus, you are my greatest love and treasure. I love you so so much" he mumbles against you and kisses your cheek

He lays there with you, not moving an inch and daydreams of his life with you, how he'd want to be with you and only you.

After some time, he ends up falling asleep next to you and feels whole, knowing he has you

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :)

Taglist: @dressycobra7 @deadbranch @lolis-pikt

#call of duty #cod mw2 #mwii #cod mw2 x reader #mw2 headcannons #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #mw2 konig #mw2 x reader

2K notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

The Farmer's Daughter 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You finally manage to quell your sobs. A slight trickle stains your cheeks and falls onto Walter’s shirt. You sniffle and reach to wipe your nose with the back of your hand. As you do, your fingers brush against his chest.

You hear his heartbeat, steady as you’re anything but. He’s warm and soft and sturdy. You feel a sudden rush of guilt for spilling all this out on him. You slowly sit up, pulling away as Walter gently, almost reluctantly, slackens his embrace.

“I’m sorry, I–” you raise your head but find your words smothered.

You don’t realise what’s going on at first. Walter’s hand cradles your face as his lips press to yours, tilting your chin up as his thumb slides under it. You hum in surprise, eyes round as the scent of his sweat invades your nose.

You put your hand flat to his chest and push. You bring your other up and shove until he lets you go. His arm falls away and you turn, shifting and sliding off the step. You stand, dizzy and confused, clutching your splitting head.

“I… I’m sorry,” he stammers as he rises too.

You run past him up the steps, legs wobbling, skull pulsing from the hangover of your grief. You push the door inwards and clamour inside. You don’t stop. You barrel upstairs and down to your door, swinging inside with a careless snap of wood on wood.

You lean on the door and slowly slide down, knees bent to your chest as you hang your head forward and shield it with your arms. You hear shuffling and a set of hinges groan. Footsteps pad quietly outside your door.

“Honey, are you okay?” Your mom calls through.

“Yes,” you force out evenly, the effort further thumping in your temples.

“Oh, uh, I’ll be downstairs,” she says, her voice silty with sleep, “you in the mood for coffee?”

“No thank you,” you eke out.

You wait until she’s gone before you can breathe again. It can’t be real. That can’t have happened. You really didn’t believe it when your mother said it. Walter? Why would he ever think of you like that? And now? Of all times?

Your father is sick, your mother is in shambles, and life is already so complicated. It isn’t that he’s a bad guy, he’s nice and helpful and all of that. It’s just that you’re already scared and lost. It would only make things so much more complicated.

🌾

You stay in your room for the rest of the night. When your mother comes to check on you, you tell her you have cramps. Your period isn’t due anytime soon but PMS can be a bitch. Just as much as life can.

She leaves a plate on your nightstand regardless and you thank her. You’re not very hungry and only pick at it before giving up on the meal. You wallow in your restless discomfort. Your head pounds until you’re nearly delirious.

You fall into a sleep less than refreshing. Your headache follows you into the void and its shadow greets you with the daylight. You wake and roll over, unready for the day but knowing you must face it. You wash and dress and head down to pretend everything is okay. Again.

You start on breakfast as your mom has yet to appear. You don’t mind, it keeps you busy. You count out the eggs and strips of bacon, a few sausages too. You stack a plate with bread ready to toast and yawn over the percolator as you put it on to boil.

You hear tires and an engine. You go rigid, frozen as you stand at the counter. What do you do? Go get your mother? Help her with dad? Or Timothy? He can keep Walter distracted.

Too late. There’s footsteps on the porch then a tap on the frame of the screen door. You panic and clear your throat. Nothing happened. Nothing’s changed.

“Come on in,” you call and pull out a skillet to heat up.

The front door opens and your ears tweak as you listen to his movement. Deliberate and drawn out, as if he’s also avoiding you. You keep your back to the door as you work at the stove, adding a touch of oil to the pan.

He enters, his shadow flickering over the wall, and you sense him. Is he watching you? You refuse to look back and check in fear of being caught. You grab the sausage and the bacon and lay them out on an oven sheet.

“Good morning,” Walter says.

“Good morning,” you return in a small squeak.

He’s silent. Neither of you know what to say. Each time you try to think of something, the friction of your lips remind you of the feel of his. You hadn’t been thinking in the moment but you remember how soft but determined he was.

Why would he do that? After you were just bawling on his shoulder? Seeing you like that, a mess, vulnerable, half-broken? Your stomach knots as you keep your hands moving and eyes averted.

“How are you?” He asks in a strained timbre.

“Fine,” you answer sharply, taking a breath to ease your tone, “you?”

“Tired,” he says, “you need any help?”

He steps forward and you shy away. You stop yourself from going any further and shake your head, “I got it.”

“Right, I…” he begins.

“Alright, Patty,” your mom’s voice wafts from upstairs, “that’s it. You’re doing so well.”

“Oh, I gotta–”

You turn with the spatula and nearly run into Walter as he also moves towards the door. You stop as you face each other, wavering as you stare. His jaw squares and his cheek twitches, his eyes sparkling.

“You’re cooking. I’ll help.”

“Really, you do too much–”

“I know,” he agrees staunchly and turns away, “too damn much.”

He strides out and you stand there. What does he mean? Too much of what? Well, you can’t ask from him. He has helped more than he should, but is that what he means? Or does he mean… that?

He wouldn’t just walk away because of that, would he?

#walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshal x reader #drabble #au #backwoods au #series #the farmer's daughter #night hunter

306 notes · View notes

tteokdoroki · 2 years

Text

soulmate!au, gn!reader and reader has a beauty mark on their top lip.

bakugou helps an old lady to her taxi car while on patrol, carrying her groceries with ease as if they weigh nothing to him.

spoiler alert, they don’t.

he sets up her bags in the boot of the car, mindful of the eggs and careful of the bread to make sure they don’t get crushed amongst the other things she passes to him to put away. when they’re done, bakugou reaches up high so the old lady doesn’t have to and closes the door to the trunk.

“you have a beauty mark on your hand, dear.” she comments with a wobbling and homely voice. “one just under your ear too.”

“hah? what d’they matter?” he asks her, keeping it polite as mitsuki’s berating voice from his childhood reminds bakugou to respect his elders—even as the big-shot pro hero he is now.

the old woman smiles, all crows feet eyes and and wrinkles. “they’re all the places your soulmate’s meant to have kissed.”

bakugou flushes red, heat burning right up to the tips of his ears as he thumbs the honey coloured spot just underneath the right one— a kiss from his soulmate.

he ends his duties with the very thought on his mind, wondering how lucky he is to have been kissed by someone destined to be with him. katsuki discovers more than one beauty mark as he showers after patrol— one high on his shoulder, two in a funny formation on his inner left wrist. there’s another on the column of his throat, his collarbones and kirishima notices a couple laid across his back like sun spots on a bright day.

“i’ve missed you.”

you welcome katsuki home as you always do— like he’s been gone for years and you’re finally being reunited with him. even though you saw him this morning and nearly scratched his eyes out for replacing your coffee with a green tea to help your tummy ache.

he’s barely through the door as his red eyes track your movements, pupils dilating when you wrap your arms around the bulkier hero’s frame and stand up on your tip toes to press a feather light kiss to bakugou’s throat, right where a beauty mark of his lies. your lips trace upward to behind his right ear, leaving several smaller smooches along his collarbones.

they’re all the places your soulmate’s meant to have kissed.

katsuki bristles with realisation, heart shaking with tremors of love as you show him such kindness and tenderness for a man who’s outline is a little rough. he cups your face softly, not giving you a chance to back away, not wanting to let the moment go to waste and captures your lips in a searing kiss. one that pours the words he can’t always say into you, filling you with affection and adoration.

and when he pulls back, you’re happy and hazy and katsuki notices the tiny dot, the beauty mark on the cupid’s bow of your lip.

“i’ve been missin’ you all my life.” he says back, simply.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugo x reader #tteokdoroki #🗑. aali’s chatroom

4K notes · View notes

lueurjun · 7 months

Text

ੰ first kiss with enha | ꒰ jake , sunghoon ꒱

enhypen reaction—there comes a time in a lot of relationships where the next step is taken, and here’s how the nerve-racking first kiss experience went for you and your mans. kinda long, i got carried away<3

version one: heeseung and jay.

. . . . . . . ꒰ JAKE ꒱ ,,

FERAL BOY PT2

the rizz this man has is insane

but like heeseung, when it comes to you, his confidence kind of shrivels up and dies

you make him tongue tied

and you know it too ❪ he’s not exactly subtle with the bright red cheeks and stumbling over his own words ❫

to be honest it kinda fuels your ego

because who doesn’t love making a confident boy weak at the knees?

he’s a simp for you and it fills you with so much pride

not that he doesn’t make you weak at the knees

because he does

especially when he flashes you that pretty grin and calls you the most endearing name on the planet in that hot aussie accent of his

but you’re better at hiding it than he is

at least you can still form a sentence

with this, i feel like you’ll be the one to make the first move

because you’re a goddamn icon

the kiss happens a few weeks into your relationship so everything is relatively new

but you’re 90% sure that he wants to kiss you

because the amount of times you’ve caught that godforsaken boy staring at your lips

he even leaned in at one point and you were sure that was the moment

but then he got shy and backed away

i can literally imagine his shy face. i’m eating my pillows shsjsjs my gosh

you decided to wait it out and see whether he would grow some balls

because the thing about jake is that he’s all talk over text

the messages he sends you and his actions in person are drastically different

he’s so me

but after another week of missed opportunities, you’ve had enough

you want those plump lips on your own STAT

so you decide to take the lead because you are sick of jake and his inability to bring his texts to life

it finally happens on a cold tuesday evening, a month into dating

the pair of you decided to go on a cute little bowling date

jake swears he’s a legend at bowling but you’re certain you can beat him

and you do — which shocks the life out of him

that’s right. humble him bae

you’re on your last turn and you’re filled with nerves as you grab the ball

not because you’re worried about bowling, but because of what you’re going to do after it

the universe appears to work in your favour because you get a strike

victory washes over you as you turn and stroll towards him, a cocky smirk on your lips which he rolls his eyes at

even though it’s the goddamn hottest thing he’s ever seen

however, he’s caught off guard when you throw your arms around his neck and plant your lips onto his

bro literally freezes on the spot

hands hovering over your waist with his eyes wide

because you’re kissing him

YOU

ARE KISSING HIM?

alexa play that should be me

you quickly pull away when you realise that he’s not kissing you back

“did i read this wrong or—”

“no. absolutely not. i was caught off guard.”

you smile at how red his face has gone, and decide to try again

though you lean in slowly this time, and he’s faster, cupping your jaw as your lips move against each other

the smack he talked through text comes to life through the kiss which he takes the lead on this time

just casually making out in a bowling alley-

you pull away before the two of you could get scolded by a worker

he rests his forehead against your own and sighs

“thank goodness you did it first because i was absolutely shitting myself.”

. . . . . . . ꒰ SUNGHOON ꒱ ,,

to be frank, this poor boy is stressed

and not because he’s nervous about kissing you, no he’s anything BUT nervous

his frustration levels are off the charts because no matter how much he tries, you literally won’t let him kiss you

and you’re not intentional about it either, which makes it that much more frustrating

don’t hate me but you’re oblivious as hell

at this point, sunghoon isn’t even sure whether the two of you are even dating

because sure you hold hands, but you’ve never hung out with him alone outside of your group of friends

the two of you communicate through text and you call sometimes but it all just seems?? friendly??

i literally had a boyfriend that was like this, im speaking from the soul

it’s almost like you didn’t wanna be alone with him and it bruised his ego A LOT

and it hurt his feelings but he wouldn’t admit that one out loud

he knows you probably don’t mean anything by it, but he also doesn’t know how to bring it up to you

when he brought it up to his friends, they were just as clueless as him because you are quite unreadable and as sweet as they think you are, they also can’t figure you out

cue them all staring at you from across the room, trying to sus you out

“are we sure they know you’re dating?”

sunoo had meant no harm in his question, but it didn’t take the sting away

“maybe you’re delusional and it all happened in your head because they do not seem interested in you whatsoever.”

#supportivebesties

as if you heard jungwon’s comment, you turned on your heel and started walking towards him

which made all of them panic and get into poses that looked anything but natural

heeseung was reading book upside down

both groups of your friends merged together and try to act like they aren’t watching you drag him away

once out of earshot, you whip around to face him looking like a puppy that just got kicked

which catches him by surprise

because why are you upset?

ur a match made in headache heaven

and his surprise heightens with the next words that fly out of your pouted lips

“do you not like me?”

huh?

i beg your pardon?

does he not—

WHAT?

sunghoon can’t believe his ears

“do i not like you? shouldnt i be the one asking you that?”

ooh that was really bratty!

great now you’re both confused messes

staring at each other like ???

“it’s just- we- we don’t really act like a couple and i’m starting to think you don’t like me as much as i like you…”

sunghoon genuinely has to stop himself from laughing from sheer disbelief

because you had been feeling this way too?

what are the odds??

it’s almost like communication is a relationship foundation

“i do like you—way more than you realize. i was a little worried that you had forgotten we are dating…”

it’s humiliating to admit, but sunghoon supposes that honesty is the best policy in this situation

the way you unintentionally humbled him-

“then why didn’t you ever try to make a move…”

“i did! i tried kissing you multiple times but you always moved or walked away.”

you had? honestly you had no recollection of seeing him try to kiss you

perhaps you were just extremely oblivious

a brief silence settles over the two of you and neither of you are sure where to go from here

it’s almost painful and sunghoon’s fingers are itching to grab you and hold you in some way

“if i kiss you, promise you won’t walk away?”

it breaks your heart that he even had to ask

but you delicately raise your pinky finger, and marvel as he cautiously intertwines his around yours

“i promise.”

thats all he needs to hear before he draws you forward, pinky fingers still wrapped around each other as he finally feels your lips against his own

neither of you want it to end, revelling in the warmth each other provides with your pinky fingers still inlaced between you

it appears neither of you are willing to put an end to the moment, so your friends do it for you

a chorus of hollers and whistles echo through the air

“maybe he wasn’t delusional after all.”

690 notes · View notes

tacticaldiary · 6 months

Note

You are so talented?? Hells bells!!! could I please request Simon Riley x Wife!Reader where Simon is “pronounced dead” for a mission and it has to seem real enough so like price shows up to your shared home and hands over dog tags? And then like months later he shows up at the house and they reunir?! Like all just very very sad and very comfort/ hurt??

please and many thanks , sugarbean

Till Death Do Us Apart

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"Love..." He finally breathes out, and she realises that she hasn't said a word in a full minute.

The single word tears a gasp out of her throat, makes her take a small step back. The rasp of his voice, the scent of him as she breathes in...

It's him.

Death itself couldn't stop him from crawling home to her.

Masterlist

Song: I, Carrion (Hozier)

It's funny how fragile the illusion of safety and content is.

Her life had seemed so unshakable, so sure and sturdy and promised. She'd fought for what she had with her husband, made a home with him, gone through years and bumps and ups and downs all because the chance of having him was better than giving up without ever having tried.

Truth be told, she'd never really liked the silence of their home when she was the only one living in it. Simon had asked her a couple times if she got lonely, whether it was too much. He'd asked her about it pretty much every time he packed up and left for a mission halfway across the world. Brows furrowed and voice lilted in concern late at night with his arms around her.

He's met with her smile and a reassurance that the silence was worth his arrival back home. Distance makes the heart go fonder, doesn't it?

And so Simon took it in stride, let the knowledge settle the creep of doubt in his heart beacuse this? Them?

It was more than he'd ever hoped for himself.

Never did he think he'd be the reason someone smiled at him like she did, not once did he consider himself one to want something so cliche as a home until she came around with her warmth and promises of unshakable devotion.

And God had he tried to shake her off. His indifference had only fuelled her determination to worm her way under the cracks of his armour. Once she'd reached inside and pulled out a part of himself he'd long thought was killed by 'Ghost', Simon had found himself letting go of his carefully crafted distance and crumbling under her hands. The best decision of his life.

It's why his breathing is ever so ragged as he watches Price console his hysterical wife from afar, a pair of bloody dog tags with his name engraved in them clutched in her shaking hand.

Simon Riley. Deceased.

If he didn't feel like his world was off kilter he might have made a joke about how it's the second time.

Simon barely manages to hold himself back from running to her, to their home, their bed. It's his instinct to protect, and right now seeing Price let her clutch onto him in grief, everything in Simon is telling him to go, to run and hold her, console her, assure her that he hasn't broken his promise of coming home to her.

It had been a vow whispered against her lips in the dead of night after she'd aired out her fear under the light of the moon. The fear of losing him. Of opening the door to Price instead of him.

Just a few months, he repeats in his head over and over again, because it's the only thing keeping his legs from moving. Just a few months and he can fix this, go back to how everything was. He feels like a jackass, making her go through this, but there was no other option.

And fuck if he hadn't tried to argue.

Death itself couldn't stop him from crawling home to her.

But his line of work could.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Four months and it still feels like yesterday.

Nothing felt...right anymore.

She felt guilty sitting at the kitchen table where the use to eat together, the sheets on their...her. On her bed had long since lost the subtle scent of him. The living room where she'd curl up in his lap, snicker at him complaining about her choice of movie even when the bastard was just as enraptured and into it and she was.

Everything felt off.

She sets down the half eaten plate of food in the fridge and swallows down the lingering emotion.

When she'd opened the door that day, she very nearly slammed it back shut.

It seemed surreal. Her Simon, her untouchable husband gone in the line of fire. An accident, Price had phrased it as.

She missed him so much it fucking hurt.

Taking a deep breath, she grabs the shopping list she'd scrawled last week onto the fridge and tucks it in her pocket. The dog tags clink against each other around her neck, tucked into her sweater as she moves.

It had taken weeks for her to even look at them.

The doorbell cuts the search for her car keys short.

It's been a while since she's seen anybody, really. Her friends come over every now and then to keep her company, bring her homemade foods and gifts to cheer her up and it does work, but only for a few hours. She appreciates it, she really does, but the small periods of relief are only followed by the guilt of trying to forget and the pain of remembering all over again.

She'd tell them to come back later, she decides. Today was worse a day than usual and she's not in the mood-

Simon.

Simon...?

Her knuckles pale with the grip she has on the doorknob, it's all she can do to stare up at the figure that she only held in her dreams nowadays.

He's so familiar, with that hair she loved to rake her hands through, the slight downturn of his lips, the scars that scatter across his face that she loves to trace in the dark. He's looking down at her with brown eyes so tortured and serious, and...and a little anxious?

This is a cruel joke.

Here he is, bare faced in front of her just like how she'd dreamed about for all those weeks. How often had she cried at night, hoped that this was all a joke and she'd pull open the door to him one more time?

But he wasn't here, was he? No, there was no way. Her fingers touch cool metal and distantly she realises she's clutching onto the piece of himself he left behind, looped around her neck.

"Love..." He finally breathes out, and she realises that she hasn't said a word in a full minute.

The single word tears a gasp out of her throat, makes her take a small step back. The rasp of his voice, the scent of him as she breathes in...

It's him.

Something akin to a sob tears its way out of her throat as she lunges towards him, tangles her hands in the fabric of his uniform. She only cries harder when his arms circle around her just as tightly, crushing her to his chest.

"You...you're home?" She manages to push out between stuttered intakes of breaths and sobs. "No, you're...you were-"

"I'm here." He hooks his chin over her head, sways her a little from side to side. If she hadn't been trembling she would have noticed the slight shake of his hands. "Said I'd always come back to you, didn't I?" He walks them backwards, shuts the door with his foots.

"You died!" She exclaims, choking on the words as she pulls back, not far but enough to meet his own red eyes. "You died, I thought you died-"

"Mission," He rushes out, "For a mission, yeah? Wouldn't ever leave you alone-"

"You did!" She suddenly pulls away from him barely out of his grasp and it takes everything in Simon's willpower not to pulls her back in.

Beneath the worry and the grief and the sadness, there's a hint of running anger.

"Four months, I thought you were...were dead." She wipes away her tears, still crying but angry. "And you show up now? Just like that? What the fuck, Simon I thought I was a widow!"

"I'm sorry." It's all he can say. It's pathetic and desperate and he feels frustrated and angry at everyone and himself but it's all he can say to her and he'll repeat it as many times as possible.

They stare at each other for a second, grieving and angry and crushed and hopeful...

And she falls back into him with the promise of an explanation later on, a tangle of limbs, muttered apologies and kisses.

Not because she forgives him. Not because she's willing to brush past it and move on, but because this crushing wave of relief feels better than the last four months of suffering. Because they'll always find their way back to each other.

Because she has her husband back, in one piece, and for the first time in months...

Something in her life clicks back into place.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

(20/10/2023)

552 notes · View notes

scarletttries · 11 months

Text

NSFW Headcanon Request: Steven Grant (Moon Knight)

Steven Grant + Lingerie: (prompt list here)

- Steven Grant could have gone his whole life never considering women's underwear any further than knowing Bridget Jones's were apparently on the frumpy side (a closet rom-com fan, Steven has seen all the British classic a dozen times over in his so-far-uneventful pursuit of his own dramatic romance.) That is until you came into his life, the first person he had ever had the enormous privilege of falling in love with.

- It may have taken longer than you were expecting from a man you found endlessly handsome and charming, but after a run of almost perfect dates, Steven's nervous clumsiness aside, you were finally straddling his lap on the middle of his plush couch, guiding his hands the buttons of your dress so you could finally show him what you hand on underneath. Fumbling with each and every movement of his hands, and trying desperately to focus on your buttons as his head swam with the intoxicating taste of your lips on his, eventually he undid the final clasp allowing you to shrug off the velvety fabric and reveal the dark red, lacy, matching lingerie set you'd picked out hoping you'd end your night in this position.

- Steven's eyes would be wider than the moon taking in your exquisite beauty, the way the dark colours held your curves, the shimmering flesh peaking through the gaps in the lace, the slight outline of your nipples hardening against the fabric. He was in heaven. He didn't even realise people could look this beautiful, this otherworldly, this completely stunning, and in even more disbelief, that someone this gorgeous would be perched excitedly on his lap, leaving a trail of eager kisses down his neck that almost threatened to have his eyes flutter shut, if he wasn't so afraid to miss a second of this view.

- His hands skim over your thighs, toying with the frilled edges of the lace, a strangled moan erupting from his as you buck your hips against his, bringing his attention to the uncomfortable throbbing between in his legs as his manhood pushes against the tight fabric of his corduroys. It isn't hard to tell that Steven is a huge fan of you wearing a little less, but you start to get the picture as you experiment with different pretty little sets you own, figuring out exactly which ones drive Steven to the edge the quickest. The day you wore a sheer light pink set, complete with suspenders, Steven spent the whole night with his head buried between your thighs, too embarrassed to admit he'd cum in his boxers the moment you kissed him.

- Steven would want to get you some nice lingerie as a gift, but the moment he walked into a London lingerie store he got so flustered he walked into a scantily clad mannequin, knocked it over, apologised, and then sprinted out of the shop and straight home. Thankfully there are more than a few places online to order such a gift, and in fact browsing the range of options available opens up a whole new world for Steven. He never knew bras could come without straps, picturing how much easier it would be to slip his hands inside and let your boobs spill over the top where he could press his lips against them. But why stop there when he could buy you a pretty little bralet with two slits in the fabric exactly where your nipples would sit, meaning Steven could slip his fingers under your shirt and start teasing your sensitive tits, picturing all the fun he'd have getting you worked up as you tried to watch a movie resting against his chest.

- This would lead him to the holy grail of his latest obsession; crotchless panties. When he didn't think there could be any better feeling than slipping your wet lacy thong to the side as he worked his fingers into your greedy entrance, here was the perfect solution. He found himself scrolling through the whole collection, picturing you coming to visit him at work in one of your pretty summer dresses with a pair of these underneath, letting him pull you onto his lap while he stretches you with his hard length, watching you squirm as his colleagues walked by and commented on what a cute pair you were and how much happier Steven seemed these days. Before he's managed to place an order his trousers are down and his hand is wrapped around his aching cock, picturing you in the matching set on the screen, beautifully adorned in lace but with all your most sensitive areas exposed for Steven to play with. His hand starts to move faster as pictures you panting and moaning as he plays with your pretty little clit, chest bouncing as your nipples spill out of your bra, no choice but to let him touch every single part of you. He's picturing the sticky mess he'd leave dripping down the front of your panties when he can't hold back his release any more, the thought of his cum dripping down your thighs with no fabric to stop it sending him over the edge. By the time he goes to bed he's paid for next day delivery and invited you over for 'movie night' tomorrow.

#writing #fanfiction #one shot #requests #steven grant fluff #steven grant smut #steven grant x reader #steven grant imagines #steven grant #moon knight imagines #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #moon knight headcanon #moon knight smut

863 notes · View notes

akutasoda · 8 months

Text

bloody confessions

synopsis - in a sudden realisation they may never see you again, they have something to say

includes - diluc, kaeya, xiao, sara, cyno, wriothesley

warnings - gn!reader, angst to comfort in some, angst, mentions of blood, reader is fighter in kaeya's and sara's, reader dies in kaeya's(sorry), wriothesely may be occ, enemies to lovers, wc - 2.1k

diluc ragnvindr ★↷

mistakes. diluc has made alot of those in his life, some of them worse than others. but the worse one to date is letting you end up in this condition.

you were one of diluc's most trusted friends since his childhood, someone that stuck through him thick and thin. but someone along that line of friendship you had started to wish that it was something slightly more than a strong friendship. but you had no idea if diluc felt the same and not wanting to make things awkward you kept quiet about your growing feelings.

but little did you know diluc felt the same way. but both of you were scared that the other may not feel the same way. but passers-by could see that both of you were struggling with your feelings. more specifically diluc's brother kaeya. who practically couldn't help but cringe at the awkwardness knowing his brother was hopelessly in love with you but couldn't bring himself to confess.

but eventually with a little prodding from kaeya, diluc starrted to plan his way to confess. even eventually asking adeline for help, who couldn't help but smile at the idea of diluc finally confessing. but it seemed the archon's weren't in his favour.

on the day if his confession diluc went out to meet you in his wineyard. as the previous day he asked you to meet him there. but after 10 - 15 minutes of waiting passed the time agreed, you hadnt shown up. he tried to tell himself you were just running late that you would be here any minute but that was doing little to his hopes of confessing. eventually he heard someone approaching. thinking it was you he started mentally preparing himself, until ge saw adeline round the corner wearing a concerned look. 'master diluc I'm afraid I've come bearing bad news' this sent his mind into a spiral. 'what kind of bad news?' he was hoping to the archons it wasn't to do with you but seeing as adeline told him presumably right away it was serious. 'im afraid your going to have postpone your confession, they are currently being tended after a serious accident'.

this sent his heart racing, and his mind clouded with worry and anger. adeline explained how some fatui skirmishers had ambushed you and left you in a critical state, dead had not the knights of favonius stepped in. as diluc approached where you were recovering, he had ran into a medic and asked how you were and after confirming you were fine and just needed to rest but he could go see you, he couldn't help but grimace at your bloodied state. matted hair, bandage's, archons he wished he was there to save you. he knelt beside you taking your slightly cold but warming hand in his he pressed it to his lips and in a moment of weakness spilled out all his confessions, knowing you were unconscious and probably wouldnt hear him, but it made him feel better.

kaeya alberich ★↷

you two were known as an unstoppable duo in the knights of favonius. his stragetic thinking paired with your power in combat, you two were a package deal. but recently that had been concerns with more abyss mage's showing up near mondstadt's border. needing only you to go out and sort out the arising problem.

this concerned kaeya more than it should've. to most it seemed like he was worried because you were working partners and this was the first mission in a while you would be separated. and he thought so too. he tried to think rationally but the longer he tried to deny his budding feelings for you, the stronger they became. and he could only hope you returned safely and maybe he could get over his denial and confess.

so on the day you were meant to return, exactly 3 days you were set to be gone - he kept track, kaeya couldn't focus in his work and instead promted to wait for you. he waited until he saw a figure in the distance thinking it was you he got up excitedly, until he saw more people with the figure and the closer they came he noticed you. but you weren't looking like your normal self. you laid unconscious in another knights arm's as they rushed passed him hoping to get you the urgent treatment you needed. he was frozen in place for a while until he realised he needed to check how you were.

he paced outside where you were being treated waiting for the medic's to let him in as he was told it wasn't wise for him to be in there while you were being treated. until the noises of the medics near your bed went silent as tine seemed to stop. panic-stricken, he barged into where you were to see the grimaces on everyone's faces as they didnt stop him from teaching out to grab your hand. your hand that felt colder than anything he had ever felt before.

adeptus xiao ★↷

xiao was reluctant to let you, a mortal, into his life. he was scared his karmic debt would affect you aswell as his past comrade's. but you were insistent on becoming the yaksha's friend. and eventually you earned a spot in his heart.

eventually after being close to the yaksha for a while he started feeling a new feeling he had never felt before. whenever you dragged him to do things he felt a flutter in his stomach that made him feel weird. he didn't know what to do. everytime you smiled at him or did something with or for him he felt this way and he was at loss of what to do about it. maybe it would just go away.

that was until one day he returned to the wangshu inn and verr goldet immediately called for him to tell him 'just to be clear, they should be fine-', that set him up in alarm. there was only one person that verr goldet would know that he had a bond with. you. he immediately went to your room in the wangshu inn, after listening to verr goldet explain the whole story to him.

he looked upon you bandaged body that hid your worst wounds from him. why didn't you call for him? he knelt beside you and with no explanation looked ahead and started spewing out confessions about how you made him feel. 'you are the only person to make me feel these things, stay and help me understand them.'

kujou sara ★↷

you were an upcoming soilder in the tenryou commission. you had alot of potential and that attracted even the general herself. she never really was that intrested in her fellow soilders, she got along with them sure that's what any good general would do but you seemed different.

originally she thought it was your quick rise in the ranks, or something similar. but it seemed different when she had a small twinge of jealousy stir within her when a soilder became overly friendly with you. she also found intrest in how when sparring, you wanted to spar with her and surprisingly managed to keep up pretty well.

but eventually you were placed on a patrol with some other similar ranking commission members a fair way away from the camp. she had made decisions like this for a while but this one felt different and more personal for her. she pushed those feelings back and insisted to herself that they would pass. although she still counted down the days till you returned not that she would admit.

but when you returned you were beaten, bruised and completely bloody, the only one to return. you passed out before you even stepped into the camp and had to be rushed back into inazuma for urgent treatment. turns out your camp was ambushed and destroyed within seconds. Sara felt an indescribable amount of fear at the thought of losing you so she felt compelled to finish the mission as quickly as possible and check up on you and maybe get revenge. this was a shock to other soilders but no one spoke about it, they wouldn't dare. but sara was more aware of her feelings now and as much as she hated to think of it but maybe confessing to you wasn't that bad when you recovered.

cyno ★↷

you had met the general mahamatra through your friend tighnari. you were a nature researcher who had moved to sumeru to learn more about avidya forest and its close by equivalents. and your old friend tighnari was the forest watcher at avidya. however soon introduced you to cyno.

you had originally only planned to spend 6 months in sumeru but the bountiful enviroments and the people you met meant you stayed longer than intended. and eventually you were offered a job in looking at nature in the desert of hadramaveth. it was a way away but you had high hopes for it. however cyno felt slightly differently. over the past months cyno had started developing what tighnari had to point out to him, a crush.

on the day you were to depart, you bid farewells and cyno watched you feeling uneasy at knowing you would be a long way away for a month. he wanted to go with you to ensure your safety (totally not to spend time with you) but he had his duties to attend to and you're expedition team was sure to make a safe trip there and back. however one day, a week before your expected return, there was an uproar in one of the akademiya's medical bay's. cyno thought nothing of it until he saw tighnari rushing over there and stopped him just to find out your expedition had been ultimately destroyed by a setekh wenut, which you had accidentally stumbled across.

cyno was furious that your safety was widely disregarded and the akademiya hadn't provided enough protection, but was ultimately relieved that you had survived. sure you were a bit worse for wear but you were alive, unlike a few expedition members. and in those moments that cyno visited you until you recovered he realised that if you were to die he would've been distraught he never confessed to you. but maybe soon he would.

wriothesley ★↷

you and wriothesley had a complicated relationship some might say. but to each other you were rival's. no doubt about you hated each other. you two would constantly try to one up the other or never fail to make a snarky remark if spotted in the same room. but sometimes the lines between rivalry and something else blurred as wriothesley sometimes couldn't help but find how adorable you looked when you were angry and to him that was just something to tease you with more.

sometimes the people of fontaine, especially older folks, would find your petty rivalries exhausting to witness. sometimes one of you would stoop to the lowest of the lows and find a way to 'prank the other' but that sometimes ends up looking like a children's squabble. a petty, ridiculous and downright tiring squabble.

however at the end of the day you both had jobs. very respectable jobs at that. and sometimes that did mean working with each other which meant that it would come to a unspoken agreement to not continue your rivalry in the workplace. but after a particular day of hardwork wriothesley had overheard a particular conversation from two fontaine citizens about how you had encountered a fatal accident with some fatui members. that made his blood run colder than his cryo vision. there's no way you would lose to some fatui members.. right? probably just gossip roaming the streets of fontaine. yeah that's it.

well it wasn't. he kept hearing about it more and more until he decided to go and see to these 'rumors' himself. so he went over to the medic's himself and asked if you were here and to his fear, you were. the rumors were true. in a moment of panic he demanded to see you but was told that you were still under observation and he could come back tomorrow and visit. so thats what he did.

as soon as he was allowed he went straight to see you, for reasons that escaped him. he gazed down at your bloody, slight frostbitten body and let out a sigh he didint know he was holding and preceded to let out all the unspoken feelings he had that were hidden behind snark comments and teasing actions. he knew you hadn't heard him but it felt good to get it out. he slowly raised your hand to his lips, and left.

#x gender neutral reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #adeptus xiao x reader #xiao x reader #kujou sara x reader #cyno x reader #wriothesley x reader #genshin angst #genshin x reader angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader

758 notes · View notes

kiwisbell · 7 months

Text

Diamante [javi gutierrez]

You and Javi really, really love each other.

my masterlist!

pairing: javi g x f!reader

tags and warnings: no plot just smut and fluff, tooth-rotting sweetness from our javi, save a horse ride a movie star, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected sex (you know the drill), sex in a limo, face-fucking, slightly sub!javi, spanish pet names, pure unadulterated fluff, and lots of fuckin', javi and reader are sickeningly in love, journalist!reader, eat (out) the rich, getting caught during sex

word count: ~ 7.3k

javi g is the only man and i love him dearly. please enjoy <33

DIAMANTE

There's never been a luckier son of a bitch than Javi G.

He knows it for a fact. Sure, he's had career troubles (who hasn't?) and a couple life-threatening encounters, but if a man has to face down his cousin's drug cartel to wake up next to the most beautiful woman in the world every single day...

Yeah. He's lucky as shit.

The sunlight slips through the window and turns your skin golden. Your brow is smoothed over and your lips parted, your face a field of peace. You're naked from your marathon of sex last night, and the planes of your body are so smooth, so enticing, that Javi's mouth is on you before he's fully awake. He can't help it; his body seeks your warmth; he loves the heat of your skin and the way you softly squirm in your sleep as his lips make a path down your body.

He cannot fucking believe he found you.

Alone at the bar during his own birthday party, you walked right up to him and slid a martini under his nose. "Do you care to comment on the recent rumours of an illicit drug trade between Spain and the United States, Señor Gutierrez?"

Javi swallowed hard. Next to him was a beautiful woman he'd never seen before, wrapped in a tight black dress and staring at him with a gleaming smile. You were a vision sent from heaven, and his mouth had gone dry as cotton.

You watched him with amusement in your eyes, and he noticed a small recording device on the bar top.

It was then he realised he should be speaking.

"The… what?"

Once you clarified patiently, he told you he didn't know a thing about such deals (it was the truth, so far as he let his cousin Lucas handle the business), and you just smiled like you already knew. Certainly, Javi was the figurehead: he had the looks, the air of danger about him, enough money to make people like him and fear him. It was smart, and it was all a ruse—one that didn’t seem to fool you for a moment.

You were stunning. A true vision. Your nails were perfectly manicured and your skin so smooth, hair so soft. You looked like you'd never been in a rough part of town, much less a war zone.

He would find out later how wrong that impression was.

Javi wanted to shield you from all the horrific things he'd seen. He wanted to push you into his car and drive you far away from the prying eyes of Lucas's men. You didn't deserve to be caught in all of this. A diamond cut from coal, something to cherish.

But you seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. You leaned in close, your breath minty and touched with spiced rum, and placed a hand over his. "He's a dangerous man, Señor Gutierrez," you whispered. "And you're too good for all of it."

His breath left him. His eyes found yours once more, and it took him a moment to conjure the words. "How do you know what I am?"

"I know a lot about you." Your eyes shone with compassion. "Probably why I already like you so much."

He did not want to fuck this up. He would not fuck this up.

That is, until he let his mouth do all the work.

"Can I take you to dinner?" he blurted out.

You sat back as a grin overtook your face. With a swift flick of your fingers, you turned the recorder off. "I can't use any of this," you said with a huff.

Javi leaned forward this time. "I'll give you anything you want."

"Then how about we start with a drink," you said, "and you can tell me all about that movie I know you're writing."

That was five years ago. It took him six months to get you to agree to go on a date. Between your travelling, his travelling, and your insatiable desire to put yourself in danger at all times for the right story, you and Javi could never work. After the first date (a steakhouse, then a boat ride, then stargazing, and then and then and then until you and he were stumbling through his home, knocking everything over until you reached his bedroom and he spread you out, made you scream with pleasure), there was nothing you could possibly do to keep yourself away from him. You were Javi's as he was yours: instantly, inextricably, and for the rest of your fucking lives.

The problem was keeping it secret. Five years of hiding, sneaking around, receding into dark corners and safe houses, and making time wherever you could find it. It was all worth it, a hundred times over, to keep you safe, but he wanted to show you off—give you the world, give you the publicity you deserved, show you off in your pretty dresses and let the world know you had him wrapped around your finger.

You had given him so much shit for facing down Lucas by himself. You waited for him all day in the safe house outside Mallorca, only to chew him out for twenty minutes straight when he arrived, bleeding from the arm but beaming wide. He was used to your anger; when it rose, you could go on for as long as you had air in your lungs. He knew you weren't truly mad at him. You just had to let it go. Once it was out of your system, you threw yourself at him and kissed him until you were both breathless. "Now you know how I feel," he muttered against your mouth. "My dangerous girl."

"Don't push your luck," you snapped, going right back in to devour him once more.

"You love me?" he whispered into your mouth.

Your eyes met his when you pulled back and he watched them gleam with admiration. "I love you."

Now that he doesn't have to hide, he flaunts you every fucking second of every goddamn day.

You blink awake when you feel pressure between your legs. "Javi," you gasp at the sight of his messy hair beneath the bed sheet.

Javi grins up at you from between your legs, resting his head on your thigh. His eyes are like a puppy's, wide and eager. "Hi."

"Hi," you laugh, your head falling back against the pillow. "What time is it?"

"It's Sunday. Time doesn't matter on Sundays. Can I taste you, mi cielo?"

You have to hand it to him: Javi knows what he wants. It's hard to consolidate your amusement and arousal as he squeezes your flesh, kneads you like he's getting out all his stress, spreading your thighs wide enough for him to lie comfortably between them. "You don't want breakfast first?" you coo, threading your fingers through his hair while he uses you like a pillow.

On any other day, breakfast could be brought to your room by the chefs at a moment's notice, or you and Javi could cook together (well, you could cook while he distracts you by touching you all over). But he's right: today's Sunday, the chefs don't work, and you're so fucking happy here. Here, in your giant bed, in your giant bedroom, where you're the only two people in the world.

You shriek with laughter when Javi, kissing his way up your belly, brushes his fingers up your sides. "Tickles!" you manage to gasp.

Javi continues his work, holding onto your hips while he makes it to your breasts. Your nipples are perky in the cool morning air, and Javi can't resist taking one into his mouth. "Oh," you sigh, "you're unbelievable."

He just hums, sending a shockwave down your spine. “You're so beautiful."

You smile tiredly, brushing your hand through his soft hair. "Look who's talking," you say, voice groggy with sleep. "My handsome man."

He preens under your attention, his need to please you so desperate it makes him shiver with excitement when he ducks his head and bites down on the inside of your thigh. You yelp, then laugh, your voice like bells in his head. "Too early," you say weakly.

"Mi diamante, I wanna make you feel good," he says, voice pitching up in a whine. "Te amo. Please."

His fingers squeeze your thighs, his pleading brown eyes craving your consent, pupils dark with arousal, and you're wide awake, nodding your head and brushing your thumb across his cheek. "Te amo," you say softly. "My love. Make me feel good."

He's so eager it fills your chest with warmth. His big hands are curled around your thighs to keep you still as he flattens his tongue between your folds and licks up your slit. He knows your body so well that he laughs when your hips jerk up to meet his mouth. "Patience, mi cielo ," he mumbles, flicking his tongue against your clit.

It's you in charge of things around here, and he knows it. He loves it, in fact. It makes him so hot with need, so hard he grinds his hips against the mattress for relief when you grab hold of his hair and beg, "More, Javi. Please, honey."

"'M going to give you more," he says, diving back in and licking deep inside you, tasting your wetness and latching onto your clit. You let your head fall back when a weak moan rips from your throat, but you want to watch him while he eats you out. Lifting your head back up, you see him with his eyes closed, fingers digging into you so hard they'll leave bruises, groans spilling from his mouth like he's the one lost in pleasure. It makes you whimper his name, and he opens his eyes to meet yours as he continues sucking at your clit.

“S’good,” you tell him, writhing so badly he snakes one hand up to press down on your belly. “So gooood... Oh! Javi—fuck!”

You're loud in bed, and so is Javi, and you both annoy the housekeepers to no end. You hang a DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door from dusk until noon each day, just in case. Still, it's hard to believe they don't hear the noises coming from your bedroom every night. Javi signs their cheques, so they never say a word.

He continues alternating between sucking and lapping up your arousal with his expert tongue while you cry out his name like a chant. His own moans create delicious vibrations up your centre as he devours you like he's eating his last meal. “Javi, I'm going to… I’m—” He wiggles his tongue back and forth across your clit and you're bursting, soaking his tongue and slapping your hand over your mouth to drown your cries.

He reaches up and grabs your wrist. "Let me hear you," he mutters, licking everywhere but your clit to keep from overstimulating you as you come down from your high. You're sighing and groaning, your body melting into the mattress as your bones deflate. You feel like you're floating.

He's crawling back up your body and pressing gentle kisses to your neck. You feel his erection on your belly, heavy and leaking, but he's paying no mind to the fact he's hard as rock. He's just lavishing attention on you. Javi never takes, just gives and gives and gives. While he seems to take just as much pleasure from making you come as you do, it feels so good to make him happy, to make him orgasm, watching his beautiful face scrunch up when he spills down your throat, hearing him ramble away in Spanish when you're taking him so well, tan bueno . He doesn't ask for a thing, but you love to give and give as much as he will let you.

That said, his pretty brown eyes are gleaming with a plea. "One more?" he begs, sliding a hand up your side, making you shiver. "Can I have one more?"

You grin up at him, pushing his damp hair back from his face. It's curling around his neck and forehead from the sweat, and he looks as fucked as you feel. "Breakfast," you say, tipping your head up to capture his mouth. "And then I'll give you what you need, baby."

He growls into your mouth. "Can't wait to taste you again, mi cielo. Need it."

Smirking, you reach between your bodies and squeeze the base of his cock. He sucks in a breath, bucking against you, a whine leaving his mouth. “That's not what I meant, my love. I'm going to give you what you need.”

His forehead drops to yours. “I just need you, my love.”

You slide your hands up his shoulders, admiring the smooth, hard muscles, and cup his face. "My sweet boy.” He grins, nudging his strong nose against yours. “Pick out my clothes for today, okay? Anything you want. We’ll go out, do something.”

His eyes are bright with eagerness. "Anything?"

You laugh. "It's gotta cover my ass, baby. We might be in public."

"But it's such a beautiful ass," he says, rolling you over so you're on your stomach, sprawled out under him as he crawls down your body and makes a point of his statement by biting into the flesh of your right cheek.

You yelp. “Javi!”

He lands a smack to your ass. You wiggle it slightly, loving the way his eyes darken until the pupils are large enough to swallow his irises. "Want everyone else looking at it? Want them all to see?"

He huffs, his head falling onto your ass like it's a pillow. “Fuck. I'm sorry, mi diamante . I'm putting you in a burlap sack. I want you all to myself.”

He makes his way back up toward you at your gentle urging, kissing all the way, until you can gather him in your arms again.

You hum softly, resting your head right where his heart is. "I'm all yours, my love. Right where I wanna be." Tracing your finger around a freckle on his left pectoral, you add, "And I'll look just as hot in a burlap sack."

Javi chuckles, kissing your head. "I know, darling."

"Javi?"

His voice drifts from the bedroom. "¿Sí?"

You smirk, knowing what's about to come. "Can you zip me up?"

The instant noise of footsteps makes you laugh, and Javi's right behind you, his gaze hungry as it lands on your bare back. His hands settle at your hips. "Muy hermosa ..." The zipper begins to slide downward until it catches at the small of your back. “Everybody will be looking at you.”

You say his name through an exasperated laugh. "Zip me up, not down."

But he's got his mouth at your shoulder, squeezing your hip. "You're so soft," he mumbles. "This dress is beautiful."

"Made the right choice," you hum, digging your fingers into his locks when he hits a sweet spot at your throat. "Javi, baby, we'll be late."

"We can go anywhere we want, any time we want." His hand slithers around the waist and presses on your belly, pulling you against him. "We're never late. Everyone else is early."

Your head falls back against his shoulder when he slides the baby blue dress (he bought it for you because it matched one of his best suits) down your body and leaves you back at square one. "Your logic"—you swallow a groan when his fingers tease your nipples—"is fallible."

"Big words," he muses, "my little reporter. Want to make you forget them all."

"My hair will be all messy because you can't keep it in your—ah!" You gasp when his fingers find your clit. You shudder and collapse against the countertop, bracing your hands there to keep yourself from face-planting. "Mmm," you keen, arching your back against him. You can see one another in the mirror, and your eyes are half-closed. His are enraptured with the way you grind against his fingers. "Fuck… oh, fuck , Javi.”

Javi reaches down to unbuckle his belt, but you're spinning around and dropping to your knees before he can get his pants down. You look up at him through your lashes, freshly painted with mascara, and watch his mouth drop, one hand clutching the sink. "Let me," you whisper.

" Sí, sí ," he says, nodding eagerly, murmuring over and over. You slide his Cartier belt right out of the loops and drape it around your neck. Next come the button and zipper, then you're dropping his pants low enough to palm him over his boxers. Javi sucks in a breath through his teeth. Your mouth waters at the sight of the hair trailing down to his erection, and you nuzzle your face against him, hands gripping his thick thighs, your tongue slipping out to lick up his length over his underwear. Javi's moan melts you. "I… I…”

"Use your words, baby," you tell him. "They don't have to be big ones."

" Por favor ," he manages. " Por favor, mi cielo ... Please keep going."

You smile up at him. "You want to fuck my mouth, handsome?"

You aren't sure if he even heard you because he's gone silent. But his entire body stiffens, his cock twitches under your cheek, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Fuck.”

"I want you to," you say, squeezing him again. "You want it too, right, sweetheart?" Seemingly unable to speak when you're touching him like this, he nods. "Good boy. You wouldn't deny your girl when she needs to taste you, would you?”

"No, no, no." He's blind with desire, dripping precum, the grey of his boxers darkening. "No, don't want that. Want you to..."

"Words, my love."

"Want to—to fuck your mouth."

Your heart swells for him. "That's it, honey. I'll squeeze your thigh like this if you need me to stop, okay?" Another nod. "I love you, Javi."

" Te amo, te amo ," he whimpers, his hand cradling your head. You're taking him out of his boxers and starting slow, letting your spit fall on his shaft and moving your hand up and down the length of him. He's so keen it makes you ache, but he stops himself from bucking his hips, wanting you to take over. And you do.

You take your time licking at the tip, making him whine with impatience. When you flatten your tongue against the underside of his shaft and lock eyes with him, his are watery. "Relax," you tell him, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip. "I'll be good to you. Okay?"

"Always good to me," he manages with a breathy laugh.

You settle your lips around his head and teasingly flick out your tongue along the vein on his shaft. He shudders under your grip. “Shit.”

You hum around him and guide his hand to your hair. Use me , your eyes tell him. He's always reluctant to take you like this, and his eyes glitter with lust-addled hesitance. But slowly, gently, he cradles your head and pushes his hips forward until your nose is nestled in the hair at the base of his cock. He’s warm and heavy on your tongue. You hollow your cheeks, relishing his taste, and he groans. “Are you okay?” he manages. You just blink slowly up at him, eyes watering, makeup smearing. Keep going .

He begins a languid rhythm, your throat suctioning around his length as he thrusts his cock down your throat, using your mouth to pleasure himself.

At some point, his eyes shutter closed, his mouth falls open, and he stops treating you like he's afraid to hurt you. He loses himself inside your hot, wet mouth, tangling his fingers in your hair and holding you on his dick, your tongue slipping out again to swirl around the head. He makes a strangled noise at the same time you choke on him, spit and mascara and lipstick concocting on your face and throat.

He forgets English in his haze, muttering and cursing in Spanish as his hips get sloppy. He's faltering, his grip ironclad around a mess of your hair, and you only get more eager as he gets closer.

“Tan buena, tan buena, mi amor. Mierda—” He cuts himself off with a high-pitched grunt, slamming his palm down on the vanity top to keep himself from falling over. He comes hard, suddenly, his back pinching up in a hundred twinges of white-hot pleasure. He can only say your name in a cracked whisper as you anchor yourself on his cock and take every drop of his cum down your throat.

He watches it in awe: his cock pumping hot cum inside your mouth, your hands resting on his hips, your throat expanding with every eager swallow. You're wrecked, covered in makeup and sweat and spit and his cum, dribbling down your lips as he pulls out of you. Your tongue darts out and licks it all up.

Panting, he swipes his thumb beneath your eyes. “Made you cry,” he says weakly.

You smile up at him. “Happy tears. Horny tears. Did that feel good, my love?”

“So fucking good, amor.” Javi helps you to your feet and gathers you in his arms. He gently wipes the makeup from your face, even though the sight of your ruined mascara makes his softening cock twitch, back in his pants. “My beautiful woman. Love of my life.”

Your grin widens, your fingers smoothing his damp hair away from his forehead. “You look… really good when you come.”

He knows how that feels.

Javi loves his craft. He loves to write and act and chew on the meat of a really good story. He loves when he gets inspired, scrambling out of the pool despite your pouting and scribbling his ideas down in the notepad he always carries. He likes to write on paper; it’s the undeniable authenticity of a hand, a pen, a once-living tree.

You watch him as he works, resting your chin on your arm as you kick your feet behind you in the water: his brow scrunching in concentration, his lips moving in tandem with the words he puts to paper. He never scratches out an idea, and fuck, you love him, your heart clenching at the way he sees life as something beautiful, something bright and pulsating with possibility.

Javi loves his craft. He doesn’t love all the fucking things he has to attend.

Before he had you, he didn’t know how he made it through so many public events. He’s wearing an eggplant-purple suit, a black dress shirt beneath, his Cartier watch and belt and the cuff links you bought him as an anniversary gift—shaped like two golden guns. You’re securing earrings on your lobes, the pearl teardrops he bought you for that same anniversary.

Your dress is long, black, elegant; it has one long sleeve and leaves your other arm bare, but the long slit up the thigh on the opposite side balances the asymmetry. It’s a masterpiece of tailoring, specially fashioned for you—but that may just be your beauty. It is universal, mutually intelligible among all humans, all species. It is a thing that cannot be misunderstood. He considers it his job to ensure it never is.

You’ve been eyeing him up. It’s impossible not to be drawn to the broad cut of his shoulders, the tapering of his waist underneath that rich purple jacket. His hair is combed back but the curls at the nape of his neck remain. You admire his ass with little subtlety. This man is yours . He's beautiful, strong, tall, and so good. It overwhelms you, and you can't help but meet him in front of the mirror. Your hands find his shoulders as you kiss the patchy spots in his beard. “You're beautiful,” you whisper into his skin.

Javi’s pout is award-winning, his cheek falling onto your shoulder. "Mi amor, I'm going to die tonight."

You caress his jawline and grab his chin between your thumb and forefinger to bring his face up to your level. "You're being dramatic,” you tell him, placing a kiss on his miserable mouth. "It's one night."

He looks into your eyes, dead-serious. "I will surely drop from the heart attack all this stress gives me,” he whines. "Will you resuscitate me?"

You nod. "I used to be a lifeguard."

It's endearing how easily he gets distracted by your mouth. "Mmm."

"Javi," you whisper.

"Mmm?" he says again, still vaguely chasing your lips.

"If you make it through tonight without dropping dead, I'll let you do whatever you want to me in the limo on the way back home."

It does its job of perking him up. He grins at you and reaches for the zipper at the side of your dress. “Javi,” you say. “After the party. Yeah?”

He sighs through his nose, nestling his tense brow into your temple. “After,” he grumbles.

You nudge your head to the side and kiss away the frown. “Help me with my shoes?”

His gaze finds you, wide and wanting, and you turn into a puddle at the sight of him so excited to just touch you. You lift your pair of sleek black-strapped heels—Louboutins, part of a PR package from Javi’s last film—and place them into his hands. He drops to one knee while you sit on the bench at the foot of the bed.

Javi tenderly lifts your ankle, caressing the bone with his thumb, and slides the shoe onto your foot. He's so gentle when he secures the strap, ensuring they don't pinch your skin, asking if it's okay. You're so breathless from his beauty and his tenderness that you can only nod.

He takes his time lifting the goosebumps on your body as he slides the other shoe on. “Beautiful,” he says, sliding your leg up onto his shoulder and pressing a kiss to your knee, your thigh, indulging in the taste of you, the sweetness of your shampoo, your body wash, your softness.

He knows there isn't time to make you come, but he wants to. If he had his way, he'd spread you out and fuck you until you scream, but he doesn't have it his way. He needs to attend this party. He needs to schmooze and network and smile. He'll do it with you on his arm.

“You’ll stay with me?” he says, helping you to your feet. You're on more even ground thanks to the height of your heels.

You grin at him and tuck a stray curl behind his ear. “Why would I ever want to let you go?”

To the credit of the hosts, the party is certainly lavish. It's a screenwriters’ (or is it screen actors’?) congregation for The Association of Something Or Another, and Javi holds your hand a little tighter when you pass through the threshold into the swanky hotel ballroom. Photos flash in front of a large balloon arch decorated with gold and black and there’s a long banquet table catered with too-small dishes that couldn’t fill up a fish’s stomach. At least everything looks nice.

“Mr. Gutierrez,” says a voice behind the pair of you. It’s producer-actor-schmoozer John Cayman, followed by a mousy publicist, beaming at Javi and clapping him on the shoulder like they’re old friends. “How’ve you been, man?”

Javi frowns a little at the way Cayman hasn’t even greeted you, but you squeeze his hand. “John,” he says politely, giving him a brief smile. “How is your latest project coming?”

Cayman shrugs in a what-can-you-do way. “Got caught up in pre-production after some budgeting issues. Not my department.”

It’s code for The producer bailed but my pride won’t let me reveal that. His eyes finally slide toward you, a bit dismissive, and he says politely: “How are you…?”

You supply him with your name, courteous as ever, but Javi’s hand is squeezing the circulation out of yours. Cayman certainly isn’t shy about being a dick. Your face and your name are plastered over the Internet all the fucking time, and he has the gall not to recognise you. “Right. Well, you look lovely. Very beautiful.”

“Of course she does,” says Javi, turning his head to kiss your temple. He whispers in your ear: “Eres la cosa más radiante que he visto. Y este tipo es un cabrón (You're the most radiant thing I've ever seen. And this guy is an asshole).”

“Juega bien (Play nice),” you tell him, trying to stifle a giggle.

Javi pouts. “Pero está siendo cruel contigo (But he’s being cruel to you).”

“This night is about you, Javi,” you whisper, your thumb rubbing circles over the tattoo on his hand. “You don’t have to worry about me. Look—he got bored.”

Javi’s eyes look up from you to sweep the room for Cayman, but he’s shoehorning himself into another conversation by the hors d’oeuvres table. You smile brightly and pluck two champagne flutes from a passing server. “To wishing we were somewhere else,” you toast.

Javi clinks his glass against yours. “The beach,” he muses, crowding you and kissing your cheek. “The sun and the sand. Paris. Venice.” You feel his teeth graze your jaw when he grins. “California. My Hollywood beauty, hmm?”

You lift your brows playfully. “I’m your arm candy, baby.”

Javi hums, tugging you close around the waist. “We’re leaving.”

“We’ve been here for twenty minutes.”

“And it's been long enough. One idiot insulting you is two too many.”

“I can take insults, Javi,” you tell him. “I interrogate people for a living.”

“Well, I don't have to take it.” He brings your hand to his lips. “We're going home.”

You just laugh and nod. He’s a little more commanding than usual when he takes the flute from your hand, sets them both down on a table nearby, and guides you toward the limousine. You’ve seen it in the way he used to handle the family business: his posture changes, his broad shoulders squaring, and his brow furrows, his twinkling eyes shrouded in a veil. You realise it was always an act, but sometimes he reminds you that he can be a dangerous man. Arousal coils hot and tight in your core as you practically scramble for the limo.

You both slip inside, and once the driver pulls away from the curb, Javi lifts up your ankle onto his lap and begins to slip the shoe off your foot. The privacy screen is closed, so you're both alone. “Beautiful legs,” mutters Javi, officially in his own world now that he gets to act on your promise from earlier. He slides one shoe off and presses a flurry of kisses to your calves. “Beautiful skin.”

“Javi,” you giggle, offering him your other leg, his big hands working deftly at the straps of your heels. He suddenly wraps his arms around your thighs and jerks you toward him until you're on his lap. You squeal, smacking his chest. “Gonna give me whiplash, cowboy.”

“This beautiful body.” Javi buries his face in your neck, his hands around your waist and his fingers splaying over your back, warming the skin beneath your dress. He loves to inhale your scent: your sweet perfume (you've always worn the same Valentino since he bought it for you as a birthday present—before he'd even gotten you to agree to a date), the slight stick of dewy sweat to your neck as your arousal deepens and your dress begins to suffocate you. You're a goddess and he worships your body like it, his strong nose nudging your jaw aside to give him more access to your throat. He bites playfully, making you gasp.

“So… fucking… beautiful.” He brushes your hair away from your neck so he can kiss it properly, tasting you as much as he wants because you told him he could. You let yourself melt into his touch, your tits squished up against his pressed shirt, tilting your head up to give him more of you. A moan slips from his mouth as he plunders your sweetness.

He knows precisely every region of your body that will turn you into a puddle of wax. You're warm and sticky and malleable in his arms. Javi’s hand slides up to the back of your head and pulls you down to slot his mouth over yours. It's a slow but deep kiss; he devours you, his tongue sliding against yours, taking and taking while you try to keep up. You've given him permission to do what he likes, and the night has awakened something in your sweet, gentle boyfriend.

“Javi.”

He grunts at the sound of your whimper. It's bordering on pathetic, your hips wiggling in his lap, chasing his lips when he pulls away to look at you. You're both panting, and he grins, that twinkle back in his eye as he takes in your flushed chest, your swollen lips.

“I want to take off your dress,” he says, toying with the zipper at the back of your gown. “And I want you to sit on my cock.”

You can hardly breathe, but your fingers tangle in his hair to ground you as you nod vigorously. His voice is dark and clear and leaves no room for compromise, and it thrills you so terribly that your panties are soaked through by the time he begins to pull down your zipper.

“Please fuck me, Javi.”

“I will, mi amor.” His hands slide slowly up your thighs, reverent in his touch, until he reaches your ass and kneads handfuls of it. You unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants and you're salivating with need when you finally reach into his underwear and wrap your hand around his shaft. “Fuck,” he grunts. “Need to be inside you.”

His hands are needy now. They bunch up your dress around your hips and pull you desperately toward him, your cunt sliding up against his thigh. Javi shuffles down on the bench seat eagerly, letting you sit right on his hips. You jerk him slowly, leaning down to kiss him.

Your hand feels so good around his cock, your scent enveloping him, that Javi can barely keep his mouth against yours. It keeps falling open in pleasure, his eyes squeezing shut. “Shit,” he says at last, forehead falling against yours. “Shit. Let me feel you. ¿Por favor?”

“I said you can do whatever you want, Javi,” you tell him, nibbling on his earlobe. “I meant it.”

He shifts suddenly, pressing you up against him with his hand on your back and using his other to guide his cock to your entrance, your panties shoved hastily to the side. Your cunt sucks in the tip, your head falling back and Javi’s hips bucking. It shoves him deeper, making you cry out, and just because he can do whatever he wants to you, his hand slips over your throat and squeezes at your pulse points. He doesn't want to cover your mouth; he likes to hear what he does to you. He wants to make you feel good. And the way your eyes roll toward the back of your skull—

Yes. You definitely feel good.

“That's it,” he murmurs, mostly to himself, watching in awe as you take him all the way, the tight, hot seal of your cunt a vise around his cock. “That's my beautiful girl. Mi diamante.”

“Oh, Javi,” you gasp, “you're so big. You feel so good. So deep—ah!”

He loves the way your brows furrow as he grinds up into you. Javi’s breath puffs out with the exertion of not moving as you situate yourself on top of him. You shuck down the top of your dress until it's a mess of fabric at your hips, your tits bare for him to use the way he likes. Javi is balls-deep before he can even form words again. When he does, they're mostly Spanish, and mostly curses.

“Please,” you whine. “I want to ride you, Javi. Let me feel your big cock.”

He will. He’ll let you. Your hips rock back and forth, taking the whole length of his cock with each punch of your thighs down onto his as you begin to quicken your pace.

Javi’s lips part in the shape of your name. It's sloppy in such a confined space but you still manage to make it look graceful: the gentle undulation of your hips as you grind on his cock to make yourself feel good and the flex of your thighs as you lift yourself up and down, making him feel good.

Fuck. He remembers your first night together. Crashing into furniture in his gigantic foyer as you struggled to find your way to the stairs, refusing to part from one another. He nearly toppled over the railing only for you to pull him by his tie and tug him all the way to his bedroom. For good measure, you knocked over another vase on a small table before you made it to the bed.

Javi took control that night. He had chased you for so long—literally—around the globe, persevering past your gentle rejections. Jobs like ours don't facilitate quality time. We're busy people, Javi. We both have needs, and you'll get sick of me.

He used that night to show you how wrong you were. He wanted to show you how devoted he was. He wanted to put all your worries into a mortar and grind them down into fine dust. He wanted to scatter them to the wind atop a mountain. He still doesn't like it when you frown.

Except for when your brow furrows in pleasure, the way it does now. “Jav—” You're cut off when he places a hand on your lower belly and presses his thumb against your clit. “Javi! God, you're so good. You feel so good, baby.”

He's golden with pride and you laugh a little breathlessly at the grin that crawls up his face. He can't help but beam when you tell him how good he is to you, but it's oh-so easy for you to clench around his cock and dissolve that smile into a look of bliss. His head falls back against the seat and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. “Eso se siente tan bien.”

“Lo sé,” you laugh softly.

Your pussy leaks onto his cock and dribbles out onto his pants, soaking him with the scent of you. You're both sweating, panting. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth and lavishes it with his tongue as he sucks. Your moan is high-pitched and weak, your pace on his cock stuttering. He takes over by grinding deep inside you and rubbing your clit with his thumb. He's so close, but he needs you there first.

You come first in everything.

“Ja—Javi.” Your thighs begin to tremble with the force of your orgasm until you can't even hold yourself up anymore. “I… oh, fuck, I can’t—”

“You can. Hold onto me, amor.” You wind your arms tightly around his neck and he hoists you higher up his hips. With the new position established, Javi begins to fuck you. Hard.

You're so sensitive from your orgasm that you whine into his neck, but he shushes you gently, soothing your cries with his gentle hands at the same time his cocks wrecks you, his thighs pounding relentlessly against your ass.

He's so deep, so fucking thick and heavy inside you, that you can feel the weight of him in your belly. And the rest of him handles you with such care that the contrast twists your head into senseless knots. He's always been like that: able to handle you in just the right ways to banish all thoughts from your head besides him, him, him. He's a little selfish that way.

Javi’s brows draw up in the middle and his cock twitches inside you. “Shit, shit, oh my—”

Light suddenly floods the backseat of the limo and a silhouette eclipses it.

“Señor Gutierrez, we've—oh.”

You yelp, your head jerking to the side so fast that you accidentally smack it against the ceiling of the limo. Javi’s instincts are sharper than yours, rushing to cover your tits and angle your body away from the driver.

He’s still fucking inside you, still spilling his cum inside you, and although the driver is averting his gaze, Javi grits his teeth. “Privacidad,” he hisses.

“I’m sorry, sir. So sorry.” The poor man is flushed red, his back to the two of you, but you're still hiding your face in Javi’s neck as he keeps your tits hidden by pressing them up against his chest.

“We’ll be inside shortly,” you tell the driver, kind as ever. “Thank you, Henry.”

The old man scurries dutifully away and you keep your burning face nestled in the crook of your boyfriend’s neck. “That… was so embarrassing.”

Because you and Javi have been caught by many a housekeeper before you had the DO NOT DISTURB sign made, you swallow your humiliation and laugh a little about the ridiculousness of it all.

Javi huffs, cradling the back of your head. “I should fucking fire him. Malo. Knows he's supposed to knock first.”

And because he's getting mad at the thought of someone seeing you in a vulnerable state, you decide to calm his nerves. “He’s old, baby,” you coo, soothing him by pressing kisses to his throat and curling your fingers in his hair. “It’s okay. I’m sure he's seen a woman’s body before.”

“Not yours.” Javi pats your ass gently. “Never yours.”

“Come on, guard dog. Let's go inside.” You clamber off him and hastily pull your panties back on so none of his cum drips down your thighs. “At least we got to come.”

Javi kisses the crown of your head. “Good. That killed my mood.”

“Mi amor!” shouts Javi from the hallway. “They want it! They want my movie!”

Javi comes barreling into the bedroom, waving a thick manuscript around in his hand. You're rarely fazed by his theatrics, but this time, it's special for him. You pause halfway through taking out your earrings and let him scoop you up into his arms, twirling you around and planting kisses all over your face.

You shriek with laughter and try to hold on, but you're both a little dizzy when he stops spinning. Together, you topple into the bed, Javi still seeking your mouth when he lands on top of you. “I’m… so proud… of you,” you tell him between kisses.

He’s so gleeful your chest pinches. “There's so much to think about,” he muses, a small tornado of energy as he pins you to the bed and plants kisses all over your body. It's like he's writing his to-do list on your skin. “I need a director. I need to scout locations. I need an entire fucking crew. I need—”

“Actors,” you say, a bit breathless in your attempt to catch up to his speed. “You need actors, baby.”

“Yes!” He drops his forehead to your sternum, right between your tits. “I need actors. I need the most talented, beautiful star quality this world has ever seen.”

You thread your fingers through his soft, long hair. “And you need a Diamond.”

Javi grins up at you. “My sparkling Diamond. That will be a difficult casting choice, my love,” he says, tracing your hip bone with his thumb. “Diamond is a… uniquely beautiful woman. She shines brighter than every other character. She is the heart of my movie. The melody.”

“What sort of lucky woman will get that role, hmm?” You revel in the hungry spark in his eyes. His excitement is infectious. “That’s a lot to measure up to.”

“I know.” Javi crawls up your body until he can put his mouth on yours once more. “I wrote her after you.”

#kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #the unbearable weight of massive talent #javi gutierrez #javi g x reader #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you #javi g x you #javi g fanfiction #tuwomt

590 notes · View notes