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#Morning Sun Sweatshirt
impossiblepluto · 15 days
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entitynotfound · 1 year
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we have now reached that point in the year where you wear warm clothes in the morning and change into cooler clothes in the afternoon so you don't burn up
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jamminvroomvroom · 6 months
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everything.
ln x fem!reader
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in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more
hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!
songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst
6.4k words
“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.
your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.
“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.
you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.
friends. that’s what you were.
you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.
his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.
you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.
eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.
and just like that, a connection was born.
you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.
and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.
“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.
lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.
“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.
friends.
that’s what you were.
-
you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.
on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.
he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.
the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.
you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.
“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.
you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.
“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.
you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.
“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.
“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”
“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.
-
the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.
a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.
you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.
“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.
“i’m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.
“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.
you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.
you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.
“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.
you coughed awkwardly.
“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.
“i am now, could fall asleep here.”
“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.
“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.
“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.
“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.
“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.
“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.
“then stay.”
you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.
what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.
lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.
“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.
“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.
“you’ve never…”
“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”
“like what?”
“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.
“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”
“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.
you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.
“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”
you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.
“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.
he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.
“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”
“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?
“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”
“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.
“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.
you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.
“you needed me.”
“exactly. i needed you. you.”
he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.
“lando-“
“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“
“lando!”
“what?”
“kiss me.”
and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.
you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.
he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.
“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.
you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.
lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.
he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.
“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.
“no.”
“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.
“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.
“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.
“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.
“says who?”
“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”
“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”
“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.
“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”
“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”
“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”
“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”
“i want you, lando.”
and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.
“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.
“please. yes.” you said shakily.
he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.
“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.
“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.
his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.
lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.
“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.
“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.
and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.
“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.
“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.
you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.
“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”
“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.
lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.
“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.
lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.
“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.
his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.
everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.
“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.
one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.
when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.
“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.
you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.
“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.
you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.
“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.
“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.
you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.
“are you ready for me?” he whispered.
“yes.”
the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.
“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.
“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”
“we gotta go easy.”
“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.
“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.
lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.
“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”
you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.
“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.
lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.
“can you look at me?”
your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.
“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.
“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”
he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.
“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.
his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.
“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.
“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.
‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.
-
you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.
lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.
“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.
“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”
baby.
you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.
“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.
“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.
“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.
lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.
“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”
you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.
“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.
“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.
your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.
-
the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.
you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.
you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.
the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.
your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.
see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.
-
the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.
you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.
“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.
“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”
“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.
“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.
“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.
you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.
you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.
“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.
your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.
eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.
lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.
“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?
eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.
he was looking for you.
lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.
the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.
“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.
nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.
“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.
tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.
then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.
-
hehe the end
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taglist
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pinkcarnatixns · 26 days
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leah williamson | on your side
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synopsis your girlfriend gives you enough attention to last a lifetime when you wake up with your period [2K] contents more bf! leah, menstrual pain, slightly suggestive?
Waking with piercing abdominal pain and the morning sun barely shining through your curtains, you dreaded the familiar feeling in your gut.
Even worse than the dull ache of your abdomen was having to leave the warm cocoon your girlfriend had created around you while you both slept. Propping yourself up on one elbow from where you had been laid on her chest, you tried to jostle her sleeping form as little as possible. At the slight adjustment, she let out a series of angry grumbles, your body freezing up at the sound. 
You waited for a tense moment, subconsciously holding your breath as the crease between her eyebrows softened back out and her hands relaxed where they had been touching your naked waist. Peeling her arms off your body carefully, you took care to watch that her even breath didn’t change as you manhandled her enough to let you escape unnoticed. Watching her calm expression, golden hair splayed out manically around her, you felt a flash of frustration at the time with your girlfriend that biology had robbed you of this morning. 
Slipping out of bed, the change of temperature nipped at your exposed skin, clad in only a bralette and small shorts so as to not burn up next to your personal space heater. Desperate to return to your koala of a girlfriend and the affection you had been promised for the day off, you opted out of a sweatshirt and briskly padded over to your adjacent bathroom. What you hadn’t accounted for was the lightheadedness that accompanied the action, and as black spots danced in your vision, you grabbed onto the cold counter for support as you guided yourself down to the floor.
Anticipating passing out, you were surprised at the familiar, tender caress of Leah’s hands on your arms. Her touch helped ground you, and as your vision cleared it was to the sight of her crouched over you, looking terribly worried. Her next words were so gentle you nearly missed them, not wanting to spook you. “Hey love, you back with me?”
You slowly nodded your head, not wanting to be any dizzier, and let out a shaky sigh. “Yeah, I’m sorry I woke you Lee, just stood up too fast and got a head rush.” 
Usually being the one to coo over her and adoring taking care of the girl, you always hated making her worry. On many occasions, if Leah thought there was anything slightly off with you, she would drop anything and everything to dote over you- usually meaning that her dignity was the first to go. You were constantly teased for her actions when that side of her came out at training, quick to blush at your teammates’ poor caricatures of your girlfriend’s sappiness. 
Truth be told, you still got nervous butterflies when your girlfriend’s full attention was on you, even with nobody else around. However, you had both agreed to a time where you needed extra attention- your period. Leah, also dealing with debilitating cramps and other side effects of her endometriosis, knew what you needed and was quick to drop anything for you the same way you had done countless times for her. 
Her eyes flitted around your body, like she was looking for what was troubling you. Normally she knew when your period was going to come before you even did, but for it to come at this time was highly unusual. “What’s wrong honey?”
“I think I’ve got my period. I wanted to just deal with it and go back to bed.” You sighed, eyes welling up a bit at the embarrassment of having to be rescued from the bathroom floor and the frustration of it having to deal with it when you weren’t due for another week.
She took you into her arms, and you let out a relieved shaky breath at her just smelling like Leah. The faint scent of her shampoo and soap helped greatly to ground you, but as she pulled away slightly you kept your eyes on the tile, shy under the weight of her worried gaze. Her nail tickled the underside of your chin as she prompted you to meet her eyes, yours still a bit misty. 
Taking her appearance in, you giggled wetly and wiped away the few tears that had escaped. Your girlfriend, for all of her beauty, had her fringe sticking up wildly at different angles- looking like she had been electrocuted. To her chagrin, this had upped your mood greatly, the confused look that graced her face at your uncontrollable laughter spurring on your giggles even further. Calming down, your lips stay upturned in what you’re sure is a horribly lovesick smile as you reach your hands up to tenderly brush her hair back into place with your fingers. Letting them fall to the side of her face, you can’t help yourself but to drag the blonde into a heartfelt kiss, leaving her to bracket your legs with her arms to avoid toppling over at your sudden enthusiasm. 
Pulling away, her face is left rosy at her realization of her previous appearance and at the tender act of affection so early in the morning-  breaking out in a matching dopey smile. Delicately removing herself from your intermingled bodies, she stands and holds her hands out to you. “All right giggly, how about you get cleaned up and we can still have some cuddle time?”
You nod as she delicately helps you to her feet, leading your hands behind her back and letting them go to wrap around you once again- fondly kissing the top of your head as you embrace. In a similar state of undress to you, her bare skin feels wonderful against yours and staves off the slight chill from the cold bathroom tile. Reluctant to break apart, she looks you up and down once again before kissing your cheek for good measure and leaving you. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? I’ll be in the kitchen.”
You snort at the thought of your girlfriend’s cooking abilities, and can hear her yell as she makes her way through your shared apartment. “I heard that!” 
Exiting the bathroom, you feel warm at the sight of the bed made, your favorite sweater of hers perched atop the endless blankets that are normally kicked off in favor of your lover’s body heat. Slipping it on and already missing the blonde, you’re happy to find her exactly where she promised.
“All set?” She's stood in front of the stove, and your hands snake around her middle, nodding your head from its resting place between her shoulder blades. Trying to glance at what she’s making from your position, you tiptoe to look over her shoulder but can’t quite get a glimpse. Finding that venture useless at her height and your unwillingness to detach from her to get a proper view, you nuzzle back into your previous position but miss the earlier feeling of her skin on yours. 
You’re suddenly very glad for the oversized nature of the sweater she slipped on, as you suddenly slide under the back of it, making her jump at your cold hands. Letting out a satisfied hum at her soft skin warming your forehead, you’re jostled at the way her laughs echo throughout her whole body. “Someone’s clingy today huh?”
You pinch her, making her jump, and your voice comes out muffled from under the fabric. “You promised me cuddles and are now depriving me of them. Don’t think you’re so funny.”
“Come on out grumpy, you have to eat first and then I promise you can get all the cuddles you want.” She coos at you, and you consider pinching her again for her condescending tone but leave the warm cocoon you had created anyways. She turns around, resting her hands on your hips and stunning you with her sly smile that gets her out of the trouble she always finds herself in. 
The content that spreads all the way through to your toes is broken when she abruptly places her hands much lower, on your thighs- and hoists you up against her before placing you gently on the counter. You yelp at the action, and smack her arm. “Leah! A little warning would be appreciated!” 
The cold bite of the countertop is quickly quelled by the heat emanating from the stove she’s sat you next to. You’re about to complain further before she shuts you up with a hand on your thigh, causing you to suddenly feel much warmer. She shoots you a smirk at the way your words die on your tongue, and you half-heartedly roll your eyes at her, not very convincing with the way your lips can’t help but curl up at the edges. “No more complaints from the missus I see!”
She smiles wider at your lack of response, beginning to rub circles into your skin with one hand, as she turns back to stirring with the other. You glance over at what she’s making and are pleasantly surprised at what looks to be a pretty good assortment for breakfast sandwiches. You soften at the sight of cut up avocado adorning your beat-up cutting board, the girl forever hating anything green but paying attention to your love. Your gaze drifts back to your girlfriend to find her staring intensely at the eggs she’s stirring around, clearly trying her hardest to not let them get too… crispy.
You admire her in the comfortable silence that’s instigated by her concentration, furrowing her brow while placing ingredients gently atop one another. Momentarily, your gaze is brought to her hands as she turns the stove off, moving to dexterously put everything into place. You Blame your heightened hormones for your momentary distraction, as if you aren’t always smitten for the other girl no matter what she does. 
Broken out of your daydreaming, she appears in front of you proudly, plate in each hand. You resist the urge to laugh at the way yours is teetering slightly, stacked with almost everything in the kitchen that she knows you enjoy. “Voila! A meal fit for a queen.”
Grateful for her work but also just wanting to be close to the girl, you peck her lips gratefully while stealing your own plate and traveling over to the dining table- her hand gripped tightly in yours. Standing next to her, she quirks a confused eyebrow at you as you prompt her to sit down first. As she does, you place your plate next to her, and promptly sit down right in her lap. 
She laughs, but is quick to steady your hips with her hands, maneuvering you onto one of her thighs so that she still has space to eat her own breakfast. “Well hello there beautiful lady! A hello would’ve been nice but I’m sure not complaining.”
“Well I guess when I see such a handsome woman I really just can’t help myself! You can’t blame me!” You punctuate your jest with a pout, moving to place a sweet kiss to her lips before turning to your food. She melts at the gesture, frozen in a stare at your preoccupied form. At the weight of her loving gaze, you once again pinch her, a lot softer than your earlier attack. Snapping out of her stupor, one of her hands reaches for her fork while the other creeps under your sweater- returning to soothing motions over your aching muscles.
Barely able to keep your hands off each other, you both finish your meals in record time, the plates abandoned as you drag her back to your bedroom. Needless to say, she more than fulfills her earlier promise, and for the rest of the day you only leave her arms when she insists on getting you medicine or water. Falling asleep after the fifth movie of the day, you’re sure that she’s the best medicine on the market.
a/n: happy leah day everyone!! this was a super sweet request i couldn't help but to write. they are still open!
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fictionalmenxyn · 1 year
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How would the Task force 141 + los vaqueros react to their s/o wearing their clothes?
Thank and you and i hope you have a wonderful day! 😊
Hi of course I will write this for you and others! :) thanks, hope you have a good day/night too!
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Ghost
Definitely take either his t-shirt or hoodie/fleece (especially the grey one)
It’s a bonus if it still smells like him
They way he’ll find out is by walking into the break room and spot you in a rather large hoodie. So he’d walk over and see ‘Lt. Riley’ and he’ll raise an eyebrow of when you stole it.
Definitely likes you wearing it but messes with you. Like he’ll tell you how it’s his and how your lucky your his as well, as your wearing his clothes.
Likes that it shows your his as he can be protective of you
Make his heart beat a little fast as he is drawn towards you even more.
Sometimes he’ll leave his stuff in your room with a sticky note ‘wear me :)’
Definitely hugs you from behind and questions you of how you got it.
If your into oversized hoodies and they are able to fit him and he like the look of it. He will steal it for a bit as he always says it’s a fair game as you steal his.
Soap
His t-shirt or socks
Feel like if it’s socks it’s either cause your cold or cause you need thicker socks for certain shoes
You love that when he offers his t-shirt he makes sure it smells of him as he knows it comforts you
Loves seeing you in his clothes, goes giddy on the inside if he catches you wearing his t-shirt
He likes when you make him a cup of tea/coffee and sees you in his shirt. It makes his morning
If you wear his shirt and Ghost walks past he’d definitely call you Johnny. As a joke.
Gaz
A sweatshirt or joggers/sweatpants probably. I know this may be odd but maybe boxers
Like if you just got out the shower or sleeping in them as if they are shorts but you don’t wear them as actual underwear
He smirks and has lust in his eyes when he sees you in his sweat shirt and his heart beats faster if your wearing both items
You love that he actually loves his sense of style and likes to look fashion able
You usually wear his joggers/sweatpants if your going to bed probably with a tank top or sports bra
Gives you a kiss and a comment like ‘wonder who’s clothes they are? Cause I know they aren’t yours’
Like Ghost if you wear baggy clothes and they look nice he’ll definitely wear it. And it has to smell like you it’s also a comfort thing to him
Price
Hat, joggers/sweat pants or button down shirt
If he has multiple hats and he has ones he doesn’t wear as much as others you’ll pick them so he can’t really complain
If it’s sunny out, you’d wear one and see if he notices and if he does he’ll lift your chin up and ask ‘how did you get that?’
When wearing his joggers you’d wear them on cold or winter days as they are fluffy on the inside and act like a blanket
With his button down shirt it will be after a busy night out and your heads ringing and that’s the first thing you see
Or it’s your going to work and can’t find anything that fits with the out fit or yours are all in the wash
He find it cute when you scrunch your face when he asks about you wearing his clothes and you blush a tad
Alejandro
Shirt, tank tops, if he has one a cowboy hat (I believe he has at least one)
If he sees you with any form of his clothing on he fells like he has fallen in love with you again
If it is his short he’ll smirk and say ‘since when did you steal that, Querida (my dear)’ and you’ll just blush
If it’s his tank top it’s usually a hot day out. He’ll probably be wearing one too and if you both are wearing one. You’ll both stare at each other with lust and who knows what happens after ;)
If it’s a cowboy hat, my my. He’ll say ‘my my Señorita you look asombrosa (breathtaking) in that hat, I think I need to get one for you’
Sometimes you’d wear it in the summer to get more cover from the sun
He’s once again fallen in love with you. He thinks you couldn’t get any hotter we’ll all you have to do is wear something of his
Rudy
Fleece or hoodie
He’ll blush a little seeing you in his clothes especially for the first time
He’ll complement you and say you could/should wear it more often
He’ll hug you and give you a kiss and mention how good you look in his clothes and he asks if you want to wear any other hoodies he has
If he’s away and your at home you’d where his hoodie till the smell fades they wash it and put his cologne back on there
He loves how if you wear it around the boys it makes him feel a lot more calmer knowing that the boys know your wearing his clothes
Loves that you find comfort in his things like they comfort him
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welcometohighwater · 2 years
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hour and a half until sunrise, might as well stay up at this point
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sleepw-me · 3 months
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BF HEADCANONS HQ ⊹ ₊ ˚ 𓂃 ⸝⸝ ♡
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Haikyuu version SFW
t.kageyama⸝⸝ ♡ Definitely winter is his favorite season, when you are his girlfriend he will definitely want to do some winter activities with you, such as walking around the city with a nice composition of Christmas lights. building a snowman in his yard. Throwing snowballs at each other and taking you to a nice cafe for hot chocolate.
k.tsukishima⸝⸝ ♡ We all know by now that Tsuki likes music, I'm sure he would share his headphones with you so you could listen to music together at school. When you're at his place, you just spend time with him, while he's doing his homework and you're hugging his dinosaur-shaped stuffed animal, and there's some music playing in the background. He made a playlist for you, but at first he was embarrassed to show it to you, there were songs he associated with you.
t.yamaguchi⸝⸝ ♡ During the lesson, when he gets tired of listening to the teacher, he will start drawing cute hearts and flowers in the corners of your notebook with colored pens, and if you let him, he will draw a whole meadow on your hand. You can give him your shoes to decorate them nicely with colorful flowers and drawings.
d.sawamura⸝⸝ ♡ He probably didn't know what princess treatment was before, he was just well brought up and everything he does comes easily to him, he thinks that's how you should treat your ladies. When your shoe is untied, he kneels in front of you and ties it for you. He carries your shopping, your handbags too, but not in his hand, as if he was ashamed that someone would see him with your women's handbag, he literally throws it on his shoulder and walks with it just like you would.
a.azumane⸝⸝ ♡ He has long hair, so he always has a rubber band on his wrist, so if you need it, he will lend it to you and even tie your hair for you.
s.hinata⸝⸝ ♡ This sweet little orange bun remembers the smallest details about you, even if sometimes you feel like he's not listening anymore and you stop talking, he immediately encourages you to continue. He remembers every detail, your favorite number, your favorite and hated color, the name of your first cat and he will even remember the names of your entire family if you mentioned them.
k.kozume⸝⸝ ♡ He found the perfect person to cuddle with, it's you!. Expect that if you have a large sweatshirt, he will stick his head under it and play games. When he plays on the computer, he will invite you to sit on his lap and either watch him play or teach you how to play one of his favorite games, it's funny when she controls the mouse and you control the keyboard, you will definitely hear him chuckle when something goes wrong he will succeed but he is very patient.
t.kuroo⸝⸝ ♡ Sometimes you meet at his place to study for chemistry, then he wears his black glasses that make him look so good. If you don't understand a topic, he will teach you and if you answer correctly, he will give you a juicy kiss. If you need a break, he will bring you something sweet.
r.suna⸝⸝ ♡ He will definitely take a lot of photos of you to keep the memories. You will be his private model, he definitely has one of your photos where you are drooling on the pillow while still sleeping on his wallpaper. On his phone you will find the stupidest photos, for example your 0.5x photo. Until the prettiest ones, the ones where you smile so beautifully at him.
a.miya⸝⸝ ♡ Listen, I imagine Atsumu calling you very early in the morning to go to the beach with him. He will definitely take a few photos of you in your swimsuit, but most of all you will have a great time together, sunbathing or swimming, he will pretend to be a shark that wants to eat you so that you run away from him. When the sun is not so bright anymore, he will play beach volleyball with you, laughing when something goes wrong, but then he will teach you, he promise.
o.miya⸝⸝ ♡ He will invite you to his kitchen so that you can bake or cook something together and have great fun. So what if there's flour everywhere or something spilled on the floor, you'll clean it up later and now Osamu is busy kissing you while you wait for the dough to be made.
k.bokuto⸝⸝ ♡ If you stayed overnight at his place, don't think you'll sleep late if you wake up easily, because he'll start doing his morning stretches, doing push-ups, and encouraging you to sit on his back. He will sometimes ask you to join him, but you have barely woken up, but if you join him and stretch together, you must know that he will slow down on purpose so that you can keep up, he will be very happy.
a.akaashi⸝⸝ ♡ This sweet boy will read books to you but he will also be more than willing to listen to your voice if you read to him. He likes it when you lie on his lap and play a game while he rests the book on your head and you sit in comfortable silence.
k.sakusa⸝⸝ ♡ It's no surprise that this guy takes great care of himself and is glad that you do too. His favorite activity is when you spend the night at his place and do your skin care together, he likes it when you put a mask on his face and massage him gently.
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stealanity · 2 months
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“ MY HEART WILL LOVE YOU. ” ft. lee heeseung
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genre & warnings : brother's best friend ! heeseung, angst, cheating, crying, but i swear it ends fluffy asf + one die joke
summary : when your night turns into a nightmare, the one and only person capable of comforting you is him.
word count : 2,637
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« can you please come get me? » you asked, in a voice so shaky that your interlocutor on the other side of the phone struggled to understand your words. heeseung straightened up on his bed, rubbing his eyes like a child before taking the phone away from his ear, checking the time displayed on the screen. frowning as he realized it was past two in the morning, he kicked his blanket away from his legs, finding himself on his feet the next second. « where are you? » his husky voice made you feel even more guilty for disturbing him at such a late hour, new tears forming at the edge of your tired eyes, « in front of his house. »
hesseung sighed, you could hear his exasperation through the phone. « i'll be there in fifteen minutes. » he concluded simply, putting an end to the call before getting ready to come and pick you up. gently pulling your phone away from your ear, you stared at it, his contact photo disappearing to make way for a completely black screen. the wind outside was cold, nibbling at your skin — your cheeks were probably even damaged than they already were. without being able to hold back any longer, many painful tears escaped your eyes to roll down your face.
you weren't sure whether contacting heeseung was a good idea : but he was, without a doubt, the only person who can console you. you can't count the number of times he's seen you cry, whether it's because of classes, work, your family or your boyfriends, heeseung dried more tears than your mother ever did. for all that, he was nothing more than your brother's best friend — but there was something about him that made him so comforting, so warm. he was like a shining sun at the end of a dark tunnel, or like an untied rope ready to bind you out of the deepest well. so yes, maybe calling him instead of any of your other friends was a bad idea, but at least you knew he'd take care of you.
when heeseung's car pulled up in front of you, the poor boy didn't expect to find you in such a state. curled up, your hair and face wet, your make-up smeared on your cheeks, your body shivering with cold.. it was perhaps the worst state he had ever seen you in. stepping down from the driver's side, rounding the car and landing in front of you, he didn't have time to offer you a hand before you stood up on your two legs, your watery eyes locked in his. « look at you.. » he began, his hand hesitantly brushing your bare arms, « you tremble like a leaf. » he didn't hesitate a second longer before grabbing the brim of the sweatshirt he was wearing, removing it with ease before deftly slipping it on you, without you being able to say anything.
pulling the hood up over your head, heeseung frowned as he bent down to your height. « why is your hair all wet? » his cold fingers brushed your cheekbone, trapping a lock of your wet hair behind your ear, which made you look up at him, « and don't you dare lie to me. »
again fleeing his gaze, you tucked one of your hands into the pocket of his warm sweatshirt, pushing him lightly to the side to be able to open the car door. « i'll tell you at home. » — your voice was so fragile, it shook his heart, but he said nothing more, nodding his head before stepping around the car to the steering wheel.
the driving home passed in dead silence, despite the many glances he gave you — which you brilliantly ignored. with your face turned completely towards the window, you furiously tried to wipe away the tears that continued to roll down your battered cheeks. heeseung wasn't fooled : he knew you were crying, but he wasn't the type to comment. especially when it came to you. as far back as he could remember, he'd always been the one requisitioned to chase this droplets of salt water from your cheeks. your brother too bored and your parents too absent, unable to do it themselves. but it had never bothered him, not even once. he'd always taken a liking to you — it was inexplicable. he always had a soft spot for you, and that was probably why he could never say no to you. you could call him three times a night, at different hours, and he'd still be ready to drop all his plans for you. everyone knew, except you. what a shame.
arriving in front of his house, he got out of the car after turning off the ignition, reaching into the pocket of his jogging to find the key to his front door. followed closely by you, heeseung suddenly felt your body cling to his, your face camouflaged against his back, and a light smile appeared on his lips. innocently, your hands clung to his shirt, the cold of your fingers passing through the fabric to reach his skin, provoking a shiver down his spine. heeseung hurriedly opened the door, pulling you inside with him, hoping that the warmth of his apartment would warm your chilled body.
remaining motionless in the doorway, his hands settling over yours in a comforting gesture, patiently waiting for you to detach yourself from him. not that you bothered him, on the contrary — but he wanted to find something to take care of you properly. « let's go and remove your make-up, mh? » he softly whispered, leaning his face slightly towards you, trying to catch a glimpse of your eyes, even though they were camouflaged in his shirt, « don't you think your face has suffered enough as it is? »
nodding, you decided to let him go, throwing off your shoes as he did so. then, with hushed steps, even though no one else was present, you followed him like a lost puppy to his bathroom, where he practically ordered you to sit still by the sink. without the strength to do anything else, you carried out his orders, playing nervously with your fingers as you gazed sadly into the void. heeseung soaked a cotton pad in make-up remover to wipe away the mascara that had run down your cheeks, his free hand gently raises your face to keep your eyes focused on his face.
as he began to rub your cheek gently so as not to hurt you, his gaze met yours for a brief second. « are you going to tell me what happened now? » he asked, his voice echoing off the walls before you could let out a sigh, « at least tell me why your hair was soaked. »
your eyes juggled from one to the other of his, pursing your lips nervously as you felt tears welling up in your eyes once again. « his girlfriend came home. » you simply said, which caused heeseung to stop all movement, his eyebrows furrowing more than ever. « but.. you're his girlfriend? » he replied, tilting his head to one side in the hope that he'd misunderstood what you'd just said. but no, he had indeed heard the right words : judging by the way new tears appeared on your cheeks the next second. « that's what i thought too. » you struggled to say, your voice cracking in mid-sentence, and heeseung swore he could hear your heart breaking in your chest.
you felt so bad — you felt betrayed and soiled, this evening had been a real fiasco. what had begun as a perfect date had ended in a nightmare : while you and your supposed boyfriend ( well, now ex-boyfriend ) were sitting on the couch watching a movie, the front door had opened to let in a young pretty girl, obviously just as surprised as you to see you clinging to her boyfriend. your first instinct was to distance yourself from him, which wasn't your best decision because, unfortunately, it led this girl to believe that you were her boyfriend's mistress. in anger, she grabbed the glass of water from the coffee table, threw it in your face and chased you out of which, was obviously, her house.
« i feel so dumb heeseung.. » you whispered, burying your face in your hands as you felt more tears fall from your eyes. the boy didn't wait any longer before pulling you against him, wrapping his warm and comforting arms around your body and making you want to burst into tears even more. he was your crying button, because you weren't afraid to show him your emotions. you knew that no judgment would come out of his mouth, that no wrong words would be spoken — because he was like that, an escape. « now, i understand why you didn't want to tell me in front of his house, » he sighed, rubbing your back up and down, « you knew i would have gone to see him. »
reluctantly pulling your body away from his, hooking your hands on his bare arms, just above his elbows, you draw him away from you to give him the opportunity to observe your face attentively, his soft gaze scanning your flushed cheeks. sniffing discreetly, you shook your head negatively and spoke again, « he wasn't worth it anyway. »
heeseung nodded positively, swallowing all the swearings that rambled on his tongue about your ex-boyfriend — he could have given him a free nose job if he'd known what he'd done earlier. but, putting aside his feelings for you, he'd never been able to stand that boy's interest in you. from the start, he had been behaving strangely : he was far too hasty, slightly possessive for someone who'd only just met you, and far too helpful to be reliable. heeseung was angry that he hadn't been able to protect you more from him, despite the bad feeling he'd had towards him. « don't feel guilty, » your sweet, honeyed voice, even in a whisper, drew him out of his thoughts, drawing his attention to the smile mingling with a few tears on your gorgeous face, « i'm glad you came. »
heeseung was sure you saw his face blush softly — a red tinge painting the top of his cheeks. but he didn't care. because he thought, sooner or later, you'll understand that you don't need to find love at every corner, because it's right there in front of you. he's the one who'll know how to take care of you properly — because he's always known how to do it, perfectly, tenderly. and he was sure that deep down, you knew it too.
your hand left his arm and rested tenderly on his flushed cheek, caressing his skin with the tip of your thumb. « thank you for always being my source of happiness, » you whispered, trying not to laugh as his face redoubled in color, « you're the only comfort i ever need. »
if you didn't look so sad, heeseung wouldn't have hesitated for a second to kiss you. you didn't realize how fast his heart was beating right now — you always knew how to make him fall madly in love with your words. he struggled so hard not to let his pupils divert to your lips, but the desire to catch a glimpse of your rosy lips stretched into a stomach-crushing smile was too strong. he allowed himself, for a microsecond, to look down the curves of your nose, to observe your heart shaped mouth, who seemed far too lonely for his liking.
but heeseung was an upright man : so he simply cleared his throat, looking away to rummage in his cupboard and pull out a jar of moisturizer, to soothe your skin irritated by cold and tears. dipping his finger in the whitish cream, he delicately applied it to your cheeks, chin, forehead and the tip of your nose, your fingertips shivering from the cold material. and you let him, admiring his concentrated face — so peaceful, so perfect. the contours of his face probably sculpted by the gods. the bridge of his slightly upturned nose, the shape of his beautiful, mischievous brown eyes. but above all : the exquisite shape of his shining mouth, his perfectly rosy heart-shaped lips.
you've lost count of the number of times you've squinted at heeseung's lips : the first time was in your middle school years, when you were just discovering what it was like to kiss someone. he'd walked into your living room, a dreadful cap on his head, and even though he looked like an idiot in his three-times-tall clothes, which were supposed to make him look cool, the jaw-dropping smile on his lips had not failed to make you dream about kissing him every night. but rather die than admit it.
for all these years, what has held you both back from trying something with each other, is the fact that he's your brother's best friend. but as you get older, you realize that maybe it wasn't so bad after all. heeseung wasn't your brother's property after all — and you were old enough to make your own decisions. so, maybe when your heart's a little more mended — still thanks to one and the same person — you'll let it love the one and only person who's always deserved it.
the soft smile on your lips caught heeseung's attention, the sadness seemed to have already disappeared from your face. as he gently tugged at your waist to get you off the sink, he decided to question you, « what's on your mind? »
shrugging your shoulders without answering, you moved closer to him, pressing your body against his. your arms encircle his waist, trying to capture all the warmth emanating from him, tiptoeing up to rest your cheek against his shoulder. without hesitation, heeseung placed his arms around you, the fingertips of his left hand caressing your hip. « you're so warm.. » you murmured, your breath evaporating against his sensitive skin, provoking an umpteenth shiver that didn't escape your attention this time.
moving slightly, you straightened up slightly, simply to hide your face in the hollow of his neck, eager for more of his warmth. only his. the situation with your ex-boyfriend now in a distant corner of your mind, you let yourself melt into his arms a little more, feeling his heart beat under the palm of your hand. it was restful, reassuring and comforting. and suddenly, under the subdued light of the bathroom, in the cocoon he formed around you with his warm arms, you felt ready to confide in him the deepest feeling that had rested inside you for far too long, the most unmentionable thing you were ready to say out loud. « i long for the day when my heart will love you. » you confessed to him, in the hollow of his ear, in an almost unreal whisper, like a secret that only he should know, like the most scandalous of gossips.
heeseung felt his heart racing in his chest, unable to calm it, even knowing that it was accelerating under your fingers delicately placed on his chest. but why did he care, after all? it didn't matter how vulnerable you made him feel after such words — because the truth was, he was looking forward to this day too, just as much as you. and he was willing to wait a long time : because the simple fact that you wanted to love him, filled his heart with happiness.
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taglist ( even if i don't think i still have one.. here's the google form ! ) : @quaissants @kimsohn @wccycc @taegicarus @lost-leopard-beanie @kflixnet
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itaipava · 6 months
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— soft moments with lando norris.
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the two of you were chilling on the couch when lando suddenly asks to take a picture of you both to test out his new polaroid camera. as you inch closer and put your arms around each other to pose for the camera, a thought comes into your mind and that is to catch him off-guard by tickling him just as the camera clicks. little do you know he had the same plan brewing in his mind. the result is a picture of you two bursting out laughing. and lando keeps the polaroid picture in his wallet so that he can look at it whenever he misses you.
on lazy days when you’re both bored, he likes to do your make-up, letting you straddle him on his lap while he sits on the couch or a chair. sometimes, you playfully tickle him or interrupt him by placing multiple kisses all over his face just because you can. he tries to look annoyed but he can’t stop a shy and bright smile from appearing on his lips as he orders you to stop messing around and to stay still but before he continues, he gives you a peck on the lips, claiming that “you missed that spot earlier.”
one day, you’re giggling at something he said, looking ahead at the colorful sky painted by the setting sun. little do you know that he’s staring at your side profile, completely lovestruck. with a smile on his face, he cups your cheek and guides your face towards him as he leans in. it’s a sweet kiss, neither able to stop yourselves from smiling into the kiss.
it’s 3 a.m, the two of you lying in bed, him in your hoodie, you in his sweatshirt. both sleepy but not enough to actually fall asleep. and honestly you don’t want to. sharing earbuds as you listen to your favorite songs from your late-night playlist. admiring the way the dim night-light falls on each other’s faces as you gaze at one another with tired eyes and soft smiles.
him gently caressing your body with his fingers in the morning while he waits for you to wake up, then smiling at you and saying a soft ‘hi’ when you open your eyes to sleepily gaze at him.
him resting his chin in his palm as he listens to you ramble about your favorite things even though he’s confused as hell and doesn’t really understand. but the little smile on his face and his bright eyes is evident that he just enjoys listening to you talk.
playing and dancing in the rain when it starts pouring in the middle of your date on the rooftop; splashing at each other, spinning together like the goofballs you are; him falling in love all over again as he watches the way your eyes crinkle while you laugh; and you falling in love all over again as you watch his smile widen while he looks at you. in the back of your minds, both of you know that you’ll question your decision when tomorrow comes and you get sick but right now, nothing else really matters as you let yourselves get lost in the moment.
it’s the feeling of walking into your home after being outside for a long time during a winter day, being greeted by his warm embrace, and feeling instantly at home. he makes you two hot chocolate and you sit on the couch, sharing a fluffy blanket while you watch something or talk about your days or anything that comes to mind.
it’s him trying his best to quietly and gently adjust something around you when you’ve fallen asleep: taking off your glasses, securing the blanket around you, pulling the open book away so that you don’t bend the pages and bookmarking it for you, etc.
you go to an arcade together and see two kids playing a game, they say it’s too hard and you two just exchange looks like “bullshit, we can handle it”; but when you two start playing the game, you both realize that those kids were really overreacting, because the game is harder than they said. you two barely blink as you try to finish the game and you just realize you’ve gone too far when one of the arcade staff says they’re closing and you two need to leave. you look at each other, knowing that tomorrow you will come back to finish this damn game..
it’s you two going to your favorite places and starting make funny stories for each person in the place, like a man asking for strong black coffee probably hasn’t slept in two days, or a tired looking woman probably has three cats and one of them is called a smelly cat.. you two just realize how far you’ve gone when your stomachs start to hurt from laughing so hard.
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malum-forev · 11 months
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Hurry Back Home
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Summary: The four times you showed up at Bucky’s place unexpected.
Part 1
The first time was a month after the two of you broke up. Once your red rimmed eyes depuffed from the constant tears and you managed to get his name out. Your friends had come over once or twice to check up on you but you’d always lie. 
“Thank you for stopping by but really, I’m okay.” You lied when they came by the first time, resting your body on the doorframe and keeping the door close to you so they wouldn’t see your Bucky covered apartment. You still hadn’t taken the pictures down, hadn’t washed your sheets because you could still catch a glimpse of his cologne and you sure as hell hadn’t stopped wearing the Henley he kept at your place. The one you were currently hiding underneath a big sweatshirt.
Of course they didn’t believe you but it was always better to give you some space. 
“Call us whenever and we’ll be here.” One of your friends said, you nodded and closed the door. 
You deeply regretted living in an apartment with paper thin walls when you heard your other friend say: “I really thought those two were endgame.”
But now, I’d been a month and it seemed like the sun was ready to shine again. The pain still felt unbearable but it was most likely because Bucky was still imprinted in your apartment. So one Sunday morning, you grabbed a cardboard box and decided enough was enough. Almost with closed eyes as to not relive the good memories, you started chucking everything that reminded you of him. 
Goodbye rubber spatula Bucky melted half to death the first time he cooked you breakfast. Sayonara to the broken picture frame he’d glued back together after slamming your body against the wall that time you two came back tipsy and horny from the bar. Farewell to the plush blanket he insisted you needed in your living room the day your heater went out. Would it be too over the top if you brought the heater back to its broken state because he fixed it? 
As you passed through the kitchen, you saw the small plate Bucky gave you when you went to that pottery class. A lopsided dish he’d made too oval and too deep to actually be useful but with the way his tongue poked out in concentration as he made, it there was no way you could tell him it wasn’t perfect. He hadn’t let you see his final design but a few days later, after it had been fired, you finally saw what he had painted. At the center of the plate, in his almost illegible messy handwriting, read: This is a plate, -Bucky <3. 
You shoved the dish all the way back inside one of your kitchen drawers, not wanting to think about it anymore but not wanting to throw away such a meaningful gift. Not yet.
You grabbed another smaller box and shoved all the clothes Bucky had left behind over the months. A couple of Henleys, some underwear, his leather jacket, and the gloves he’d stopped wearing. 
“Not today, Doll.” He’d smiled, lowering your hands holding the leather gloves. “I don’t need them when I’m with you.”
Before you could think about it too much, you opened your door and walked over to his apartment with his things. You dropped the box at his doorstep and turned to leave but you heard his locks turn. 
A gasp got caught in your throat and you were almost positive your heart missed a beat. The plan wasn’t to see him, you weren’t ready to see him. Maybe you could make a run for it? But it would be too obvious! You’ll look ridiculous! Maybe you can play dead? It works for dogs! 
But before you could make a decision, you heard his voice. The sweet tone he reserved just for your ears, soft and comforting. 
“Hi.” His smile was small not reaching his eyes. “How are you?”
You tried to swallow the lump in your throat and nod. “I’m okay. I thought it was time to drop your things off.”
“Oh,” His usual crystal blue eyes now adorned an all too familiar red hue, the bags under his eyes big and purple. But before you could feel sorry, a cheery voice appeared from the inside of his apartment. 
“We should be leaving soon.” A woman came into view, her tactical suit showed you she worked with Bucky but the way her arm rested on his shoulder showed you she’s more than just a coworker. “Wouldn’t want to miss our reservation.”
You didn’t let your mouth drop to the floor just out of pure pride. 
How could I have been so stupid to think Bucky wasn’t over me yet? You thought.
You kicked the cardboard box lightly with the tip of your shoe. “Just wanted to drop off your things.”
Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed, your sudden change of demeanor confused him. But your eyes pingponging from the box to him to Jessica gave him more answers than he needed. He started shaking his head, wanting to explain to you that Jessica didn’t know who you were and that’s why she was saying they were going out. He wanted to explain that the only reason she was in his apartment was because she had to borrow some unmarked guns for her mission. He especially wanted to explain to you that Jessica wasn’t interested in guys like him- actually she wasn’t interested in guys at all!
“You can keep or throw out anything you have of mine, I don’t want it.” You said rolling your eyes, turning to leave but he held your elbow wanting to get even a single word in. But he didn’t get a chance to say anything.
You tugged your arm back and left, closing your apartment door with a bang. 
The second time was a few weeks after you had given Bucky his belongings. You’d started watching the news again, not caring whenever they showed a picture of him. At least that’s what you told your friends. You finally returned to your favorite coffee shop, even though it hurt when the barista asked where your boyfriend was. You’d managed to say it was just you this time but were too distracted with your own thoughts to see the glimmer in the guy’s eyes when you said it. 
Today was an especially important day, your first run since the breakup. You welcomed the familiar burn in your lungs and the feeling of freedom. You jogged up to the door of your apartment just to see a brown paper bag with your name on it. You eyed it quizzically, looking around to figure out if you could spot who left it. But inside was a harmless coffee with a note written on the side: What’s a morning run without your morning coffee?
At first it made you smile, thinking about all the times you would drink coffee with Bucky. A little slice of normalcy and routine in his otherwise chaotic world. That ritual the two of you created was one of the only things he could control.
But the sweet thoughts turned sour as you remembered the blonde’s arm on Bucky. Who the hell does he think he is? He can go out and date but you? You have to be constantly reminded of the relationship? 
I don’t fucking think so. 
You marched up the stairs straight to his door and banged on it three times. You didn’t mind the time, you knew he was up since sunrise. 
No answer. You brought your fist up to the door again and knocked five times, your patience running thin and your energy low. 
A few seconds later a messy haired groggy Bucky opened up, rubbing his eyes with the back of his palms. 
“You were asleep?” You forgot why you were here in the first place, more concerned about the fact that your ex-boyfriend who never slept in past 5:45 and was now barely waking up at 8 am! Had he not been sleeping at night? Was he getting nightmares again? Was he benched from the team?
“Was, past tense.” He yawned. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
His kind blue eyes convinced you for a second but the coffee in your hand reminded you of your anger. 
“I wanted to hand deliver this.” You pushed the coffee into his chest. “And to tell you that these mind games you’re playing are not working. I’m done, we’re done. So don’t come here wanting to stir up things that have been buried. We used to drink coffee after our runs but not anymore, not together at least! So stop it, and I don’t want it.” 
Bucky’s eyes widened as he looked down at the drink in his hands. You’d left him speechless. Truthfully, leaving the big and scary Winter Soldier inarticulate did wonders for your self-esteem-
“Did you read the other side of the cup?” Bucky asked in an annoyed tone.
“What?” 
He rolled his eyes and turned the cup, bringing it close to your face. “The back of the coffee says: Come into the coffee shop for a free pastry and a date – Jack.”
You felt your face blush, heat consuming your whole body. 
“I-when- I didn’t read-“ You stammered. 
“Are we done here?” Bucky raised his eyebrows. “I’m sure you’re getting flooded with date propositions but could we keep the ‘bragging about it to your ex’ to a minimum?” 
You furiously nodded and whispered a small: “Sorry about that.”
The third time was four months after the breakup. You thought you were doing great, making progress. You’d been on a date or two that didn’t amount to anything but it counted, right? Everything seemed normal until you heard about the last mission. 
You had turned on the TV and the news station was doing a 24hr coverage of a rescue mission. Something about super soldier serums being reproduced and hostages being taken. You didn’t need to see him on the screen to know he was there. An unusual feeling gnawed at your chest. 
Before, when you were dating, you would get anxious about him going on missions but this time it was different. Like you knew something bad was going to happen.
And then you saw the coverage, the warehouse had been wired with explosives. Every wall blown up into ashes. “There have been no survivors until now.” The newscaster said. 
Your heart races thinking of him. This can’t be true, right? You know there’s no possibility of him not being there, he’s the one who is supposed to handle super soldiers for fucks sake! But the thought of him not making it is out of the question. You cannot even process the information. A shocking sob rips through your chest as you hear the total fatalities number rise.  
You had wanted to be informed of everything happening but at some point in the night, you fell asleep with the TV turned on. A faint noise woke you up, your senses heightened to a thousand. You brought closer the sleeves of one of Bucky’s heneleys that had been mixed up with the clothes at the back of your closet and took in his faint scent. But then you heard it again, the unmissable groan of his apartment door. You told him to get it fixed a thousand times but he would always say: “Just because something’s old doesn’t mean it needs to be fixed.”
You rushed outside and saw him, opening his apartment door. You couldn’t believe it, were you dreaming? 
You ran to him and just as he turned around you wrapped your arms around him, you couldn’t help the tears running down your face. 
“Is there something wrong?” Bucky asked, worry written all over your face, as he brushed the hair off of your face. “Are you hurt.”
A laugh ripped through your chest and you shoved his shoulder. “Wrong with me? You scared me half to death! I though you didn’t make it.”
You whispered the last part, wanting to hide the tremble in your voice. 
He took your head in his hands, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’m all right doll, see, I’m still in one piece.”
You nodded and sniffled, bringing your head to his chest. 
“I’ve been looking for this.” Bucky let out a small laugh, placing kisses on the top of your head, while tugging on his shirt. But before you could tell him he could have it back, he said: “Keep it, it looks better on you.”
The fourth time you showed up at Bucky’s place unexpected was a month later. For about a week, you’d been getting this weird feeling. You had seen the same person twice in the subway and then once turning the corner to your apartment. At first, you thought it was a coincidence but today was the third day you saw the same man. Bucky had taught you that whenever you feel in danger you should go around the block once. No person that isn’t following you is going to turn right twice, ending up in the same spot you started. He said that if after doing that, they were still on your tail you should immediately go to his place. No matter the time and no matter the situation.  
You looked over your shoulder before turning right for the fourth time hoping the man would enter one of the many apartments or stores lining your street. Maybe he was lost? But no, he kept his pace following you. Your breath hitched as you considered your options. A) Lead this person straight to your apartment and get murdered or B) Face your ex-boyfriend. 
You considered option A for a second, it would be less awkward. But you shook your head. You rushed up the stairs and made use of the spare key to Bucky’s apartment you hadn’t returned. You quickly closed the door and leaned back on it, trying to regain your breath. You did as you were once told, you grabbed the gun from underneath his dining room table and pointed at the door until he got home. 
An hour later, you saw the lock turn and the door slowly open. You pointed the gun straight on and waited for whoever was behind the door to come in. 
“It’s just me,” You heard Bucky’s voice before he came in. “You’re safe.”
You let out a breath as he came into view, setting the gun back on the table. “How’d you know I was here?”
“You think I don’t have cameras?” Bucky chuckled as he lowered his work backpack onto the kitchen island. “I saw you snooping around, by the way.”
The corners of your lips turned upwards, partly because you were caught but mostly because you didn’t find any indications that there had been a woman in his place. 
“What happened?” He asked, sitting across from you. 
“I think I’m being followed.” You chewed on your bottom lip nervously. 
“Think?” Bucky asked with raised eyebrows.
“The same man has been following me from my apartment to work and back for the past week. And he’s not even being sneaky about it. We’ve made eye-contact and everything.”
Bucky ran his hand across his face. “And you waited a week to tell me?!”
“Well I’m sorry if I’m not totally comfortable telling my ex that someone is following me!” You rolled your eyes. “Anyways, I did what you told me and now I’m here.”
“I took a picture of him when he wasn’t looking.” You pushed your phone closer to Bucky only to see the color drain out of his face. “What’s the matter?”
“The-these- this guy, I saw him at the warehouse.” Bucky muttered. “They’re sending me a message.”
“What are we going to do?” You asked quietly. 
Bucky’s nostrils flared as he got filled with rage. “We? We aren’t doing anything. I am going to go to them and kill every single one. I don’t care- they’re dead tomorrow morning.”
“Buck-“ You placed a hand on his chest but he turned around, getting up from the table. He paced around his apartment, face red with anger. “Buck! Stop!”
His eyes darkened. “Stop? Stop and do what? Wait until they hurt the woman that I love? I’m not going to just sit back and take the high road. They deserve to be in the ground and I’m going to make sure it happens. No one can get near you. I’ve worked too hard and sacrificed so much already for them to get close to you.”
“They’ve gotten too close already. I shouldn’t have let them, but they’re here now. And they’re going to see what happens when you piss me off. I broke my heart in two just to make sure you were going to be safe. And they won’t take that away from you, not your safety. I will do whatever is necessary.” 
You gasped at his words. 
“Is that- is that why-“ Bucky didn’t let you finish, his saddened gaze gave you the answer. 
“Do you love me?” You asked him, your heart speaking the words your brain couldn’t let you pronounce. His eyes were set on the ground. You took two steps to him, grabbing his face and looking into his eyes. 
“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll drop it. We never have to talk about this again, we’ll finish with the mercenaries and I will never speak a word to you again. Just say the words. Tell me you don’t love me.” 
Worried creases appeared on Bucky’s forehead, battling with himself. “I could never keep you safe. You will always be in danger.”
“Say it.” You ordered. “Say that you don’t love me but know that it won’t go away. I will always be something they hang over your head because I’ll love you forever.” 
His steel blue eyes met yours and looked down at your lips. 
“I’ll never be safe, but that’s a price I’m willing to pay if it means I get to spend even a minute back in your arms.” You whispered.
Bucky crashed his lips into yours, a rushed and feverish kiss that had you seeing stars. The type that has you gasping for air but not knowing that if it is your last, it was worth it. Bucky pulled you closer to him, his cologne and desperation made you dizzy. 
“I’ll love you forever.” He whispered once you separated. “I promise to keep you safe, I’ll do whatever I have to. I cannot be without you, I was a fool to think I could.”
You smiled into his lips but his warmth left too soon. 
Bucky placed another kiss on your lips before walking to the door. “I’ll be home soon.”
“Where are you going?” You gripped his arm, wanting nothing more than for him to come back to you. 
He brought your hand to his mouth, placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles. “Anyone who dares to threaten you gets to see a part of me that I once buried.”
Your eyes met as he counted the bullets inside his gun and slid a knife into his pocket. 
“Hurry back home.” You said.
For the first time in months, Bucky let out a smile.    
Wanna read more like this? Here’s my latest post! 💖
Author's Note: I want to thank everyone for reading pt. 1 and encouraging me to write this! I hope you guys like it! As always pls comment reblog and like! Love you guyssss
Tags: @verygraphicink @rouge-raven13 @behindmygreyeyes @ximi1315 @runi1 @lia-winther @aneluvs @kpopgirlbtssvt
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delirious-donna · 5 days
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Morning Epiphany [Higuruma Hiromi]
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an: cockwarming with Hiromi was suggested to me when I opened my requests/ideas for this wonderful man and I immediately leapt on it because YES!
pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader
warnings: cockwarming, reader being the teeniest bit mean to poor Hiro, whining and whimpering from the lawyer…
Masterlist
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“Hiro… it’s so early, why are you in here?”
The sun had barely begun to crest, the earliest rays warming the bedspread that was surprisingly empty. A hand reaching out to your husband’s side confirmed the first stirring of your consciousness, he wasn’t here, and if he wasn’t here then there were only two places he could be.
Despite the lure of sleep trying to coax you back into the cozy haze of dreams, you couldn’t possibly sleep when your other half was missing, and so early too. The blinking lights of the alarm clock signalled the hour and helped to push your feet to the rug by the bed, stretching and pouting.
The bathroom was empty, there was no remnant of steam from the scalding hot showers he took every morning and you scowled at your dishevelled reflection in the mirror. Your hair stuck up at odd angles, eyes puffy from how quickly you got out of bed and your sleepshirt—an old well-worn sweatshirt of Hiromi’s—was creased beyond belief.
Your steps took you towards the office and the scent of freshly brewed coffee that wafted enticingly into your nose. The door creaked on antique hinges, your missing man turning with his brow furrowed from having his concentration broken. The expression shifted into a smile almost immediately, a sheepish smile at that.
“Did I wake you? I didn’t mean to,” he apologised sincerely, settling back in his chair to stretch his arms up and over his head. The wide sleeves of his black t-shirt, now faded to grey at best, pushed back and your eyes dipped to the hint of black happy trail that peeked from beneath the hem with a sigh of appreciation.
Hiromi couldn’t help but chuckle. Hastily he fixed his face with a look of admonishment, one sleek eyebrow rising near to his hairline. “Eyes up here, Mrs Higuruma.”
“Sorry—wait. Why am I apologising? It’s the arse crack of dawn, what are you doing up let alone working?”
His eyes drooped, nervously fidgeting with the pen on his desk.
Before he could respond, you grabbed the back of his chair and scooted it out further from the desk to his confusion. The lines wrinkling his forehead smoothed out when your knee bracketed his hip, followed by the other until you sat straddling his lap. Your fingers ran through the limp strands of the hair hanging near into his eyes, humming at the glorious warmth of his body melding into yours.
“Epiphany moment?” Hiromi offered uncertainly. He was too preoccupied by the soft squish of your hips and backside, hands full of the meat of you, and desperately trying to will his cock not to harden any further. To his disappointment and your triumph, he was failing miserably.
You planted teasing kisses to his jawline, barely-there touches of your lips until you were decorating his throat and prominent Adam’s apple with wet little marks. “Don’t let me stop you, Hiro… you can pretend I’m not here. I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”
He dropped his chin, staring at you with suspicious disbelief. Swallowing thickly when you offered your best most innocent looking smile, laying your cheek on his shoulders and drawing one of his hands away from where he was pawing at your rump. “Work, if that’s what you want to do.”
Hiromi groaned and looked skyward as if some answer would arrive if he begged for it hard enough. He knew this game well enough, and not once had he won. He didn’t fancy his odds on this particular day either.
It started out fairly uneventful. Hiromi managed to refocus his attention towards the computer screen and the ruling he had been in the middle of reading when you appeared, but soon enough the words no longer made sense. Your fingertips grazed his chest, delicate scrapes of your nails across the cotton hiding his nipples and it was maddeningly distracting.
Instead of calling it out, knowing it would only result in you doubling down your efforts, he exhaled through his nose and shifted in his seat to give some respite to the erection chafing the waistband of his pyjama trousers. Immediately, he knew it was the wrong move. Your pelvis sunk closer to him, rubbing more friction into his aching length and he swore he could smell your arousal hanging heavy in the air.
He did his best to ignore your naughty fingers moving between you, to pretend you weren’t pulling him free and playing in the mess of precum leaking from his tip. His fingers tightened around the mouse in his hand, the sound of plastic groaning from the onslaught of pressure enough to make him blink and loosen his hold.
“You will be the death of me, love.”
The loose fist around his shaft paused. “Keep working or I’ll go back to bed… alone.” You were slick with arousal, the lack of panties leaving a dark stain on the crotch of Hiromi’s pyjamas that didn’t go unnoticed by either of you. The temptation to lift to your knees and sink down onto his cock was building, but you couldn’t reward him so readily for his leaving you in bed this morning. Not until he was a little more desperate, and by the hue of the rash at his neck and dappling of his cheeks, there was still a little ways to go.
Hiromi was failing fast, and he knew you were waiting to pounce and worsen his predicament. Worsen was hardly the right term given how eager he was to be swallowed by your plush velvet-lined walls, but since you were insistent that he continue to work, he wasn’t going to be rewarded until he did. The pen scratched across the surface of his notepad, the ink drying in shaky lines whilst you cupped his balls and rolled them between your fingers and thumb. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure what he was writing made sense but if it gave the illusion of cooperation, he’d write utter gibberish all day long.
You held out as long as you could manage, the burning desire palpable on the dewy apples of your cheek and the heat of your breasts hidden beneath your husband’s sweatshirt. At long last you teased his pulsing cock between your folds, tapping the sticky cockhead against your pert little clit and finally lining him up at your entrance. The muscles contracted around him, that first inch a delicious stretch that pushed you to your limits not to slam right down to his fat balls and cry out from the bliss.
The descent was drawn out, testing your patience and resolve to the limits, as well as forcing stuttering breaths out of Hiromi’s heaving chest. You didn’t chastise the return of his hands, the adoration sweeping through his palms as they raised the hem of your sweatshirt so he could see himself disappearing into your pussy. He fisted the fabric, grasping at your hips with eyes heavy with lust and you simply had to taste him, even only for a moment.
Your lips crashed atop his, tongue licking over the seam of his bottom lip and pressing into his mouth to swallow the whine that crawled from his throat. It echoed inside your head, the urge to roll your hips over and over until he filled your belly with his seed burned like a white-hot flame. Your skin itched, fingers curled into claws that dove into Hiromi’s thick head of hair and you nearly didn’t break your kiss, nearly were consumed by the passion you felt in your heart.
“Hmmmpff.” Hiromi wailed when you finally came to some semblance of your senses, your pelvis flush against his but no longer moving. He stared at you in longing, watching whilst you swiped a finger over your kiss-swollen lips and sucked the remnants of his spit from the pad. The smile you offered was purely saccharine, and his throat itched with the need to bounce you on his cock until you gushed all over him and the chair.
“Please?” He asked on a whisper, aquiline nose nudging into your cheek.
“You have your epiphany moment to deal with mister lawyer, c’mon… you can last a little longer. Let me warm you and once I’m satisfied, I’ll ride you until your legs want to give out,” you purred, mouth at the shell of his ear and leaving a kiss at the bone just behind.
Silently, he begged and pleaded for mercy on his tainted soul, as if some divine intervention was likely to intercept, he knew that wouldn’t be the case. You were the only divine deity in his world and your determination to give him a taste of his own medicine for abandoning the sacred ritual of morning cuddles was written across your features.
A sweat broke out across his brow as he studied the lines of text on the screen without recognising a single word. A drip of arousal dribbled from the spot you united, dribbling over the seam of his balls to stain the leather seat beneath. You clenched, and he crushed the pen in his hand, palm filled with tiny plastic shards that speared his skin.
“Darling… light of my life—I will do anything, anything, if you’ll just ride me,” he whimpered, discarding the busted pen and grabbing up your hands to kiss earnestly across your fingertips then knuckles. Hiromi was barely restraining the buck of his hips, the warmth almost too much wrapped around his dick but without the friction and rhythm of movement… it wasn’t enough.
Your resolve was being tested once more. The subtle wobble of his lower lip and the sincere longing in his whisky-smoked eyes cracked the shell of your conviction. Easing forward in one languid roll of your hips earned you the most delightful and pitiful whimper you had heard in a long time. His head fell back against the headrest of his chair, eyes screwed shut whilst you felt him twitch within your walls. He might just cum like this if you didn’t do something, and actually, you wouldn’t mind that in the slightest.
Never more had you enjoyed cockwarming Hiromi than at this moment, and you vowed to draw it out as long as he could endure.
“Fuck, Hiro… you feel so good. So warm and snug,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into him more. “Five more minutes…”
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girlgenius1111 · 5 months
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you can start a family who will always show you love
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part 3 :)
warnings: mentions of self harm. nothing graphic. discussions of anxiety. angst + fluff.
You slept better than you had in weeks, curled up against the steady presence of Alexia. When you woke up the next morning, rolling over to find an empty bed, you were torn between feeling hopeful, and feeling embarrassed. You let yourself wake up slowly, enjoying the sun peeking through the curtains. You heard quiet voices talking in the living room, and felt a pang of anxiety, knowing the inevitable conversation would be difficult. You considered rolling over and going back to sleep, but your hand had been out of the brace for too long, and was throbbing painfully.
So, you stood, seeing a sweatshirt of Alexia's folded nicely on the edge of the bed, clearly left for you. It was odd to be taken care of in this way; it felt nice, you felt safe. Carefully tugging the sweatshirt on, you shuffled out into the living room, still groggy. You found your friends lounging with cups of coffee. Mapi and Ingrid were squished in the big armchair together, exhausted, and Alexia was tapping her foot rapidly from the couch, clearly thinking hard.
They all looked up as you entered, sending you kind smiles. Without letting yourself over think it, you plopped down on the couch next to Alexia, leaving a small gap. Your captain closed that gap immediately, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and pulling you to lean into her.
"Good morning, pequeña. How'd you sleep?" She asked, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.
"Mmm," you responded, giving a thumbs up. You'd just woken up, it was too soon for words. The other girls chuckled. Alexia handed you your brace, having it ready for you, and you put it on carefully. You leaned your head on Alexia's shoulder then, eyes drifting shut again.
Alexia was still kind of surprised at the way you were acting, and if the other girl's faces were any indication, they were too. You were suddenly so willing to seek out the comfort from your friends that you needed. She was glad that you were, but still, worry remained; If you were allowing yourself to accept help, things must be really bad.
You blinked your eyes open after a minute, looking hopefully at Ingrid. "Coffee?" You asked. Ingrid rolled her eyes jokingly, pulling herself out from under Mapi, and heading into the kitchen. Ingrid often suffered from being the person on the team that made the best coffee.
The three of you remained, sitting in a comfortable silence. Ingrid returned quickly, handing you a mug.
"Thank you!" You said, with a smile.
"Anything for you, elskling." Ingrid said quietly, voice heavy with sincerity. You knew she wasn't just talking about making you coffee, and you paled a little, anxiety returning. You trusted your friends, you really did, but you weren't really sure what happened when you were honest with them, when you told them how bad it had gotten.
"Are you ready to talk, y/n?" Mapi asked, speaking for the first time. You nodded hesitantly. There was a long pause, where it seemed like they were waiting for you to say something.
"I'm not really sure where to start." You mumbled, taking a long sip of coffee. Your friends considered, before responding.
"What happened yesterday? When you hurt your hand?" Mapi asked. Alexia felt you tense next to her, and prepared herself for you to close back up.
"I don't really know. I was really upset about the card, and I felt really guilty, I knew you guys would have a hard game down to only 10. I was just... so upset and suddenly I was hitting the concrete." You told then, gaze fixed on the coffee table in front of you.
Mapi took a deep breath. "When you say you felt guilty. Were you trying to hurt yourself?"
You wanted to say no. But lying to them when they had just spent their entire night making sure you were okay felt wrong. Your silence spoke volumes.
"Pequeña, have you ever done anything like that before?" Alexia asked. You couldn't bring yourself to look at her, the pain in her voice almost too much. You knew you wouldn't get away with not responding to this one.
"Yeah." You said, trying to keep it simple and detail free. You felt Alexia inhale a sharp breath next to you, and you knew she was wondering how she missed it. You couldn't let her feel guilty though, not when this wasn't her fault, at all.
"Not often. Only when things are... really bad." You paused, wondering if you should continue. "And I'm really good at hiding it, you wouldn't have any way of knowing." You couldn't meet any of their eyes, instead focusing on the way Mapi's hand intertwined with Ingrid's, holding tightly. You hated that you'd made them upset.
Alexia hadn't spoken again, and you couldn't look at her, worried she was crying. You didn't think you'd be able to take that. Ingrid once again became the voice of reason, pulling herself together enough to ask you another question.
"Y/n," Ingrid began, and you knew what she was going to ask before she spoke. "Can you show us? Or we can leave, and you can show Alexia? We need to know if we need to take care of anything." She spoke soothingly, as if somehow knowing exactly the weight of what she was asking you.
You shook your head, swallowing your tears. "It's just scars right now. There's nothing to see." You told them. There was a hand under your chin, imploring you to look at Alexia. Taking a deep breath, you turned.
"Promise me that there's nothing except scars." Alexia asked. Her eyes were glittering, and even though she spoke harshly, you knew she was just trying to hold it together for you.
"I promise." You said sincerely. Alexia nodded once, taking a deep breath. You turned to look at the other girls then, finding them in similar states. If Alexia didn't cry often, Mapi cried... never. Seeing a few stray tears on her cheeks was jarring. Seeing tears in Ingrid's eyes was rather mundane; the girl cried at sad commercials. But still, present on all of their faces was determination. For what, you weren't really sure.
"Is that what you've been having a hard time with recently? Depression?" Alexia asked. You weren't really sure how to answer. That was part of it, definitely.
"Partly." You said, still trying to gather your thoughts.
"What is the other part?" Alexia insisted. For some reason, talking about your anxiety was harder than talking about being depressed. It felt more personal, so inherently connected to your insecurities. You'd come this far, though.
"I've been really anxious. Since the world cup really. Normally I can block out what everyone says, the pressure from the outside world. I haven't been able to do that recently." You told them, voice starting to shake. You were really tired of crying.
"That sounds really hard, elskling," Ingrid said gently, and you found yourself nodding, a few tears escaping. It HAD been really hard. It was only just hitting you how hard.
"Is that why you haven't been sleeping? You've been too anxious?" Alexia inquired. You nodded.
"Y/n, why didn't you tell us any of this? Why wouldn't you let us help you?" Mapi questioned.
"I don't want you guys to feel like you need to worry about me, or take care of me. I'm an adult, I can handle it myself. You guys have better things to do than sit around and listen to me complain."
"It doesn't really seem like you can handle it yourself, elskling. There's nothing wrong with that though. You're only 20. You don't have to have everything figured out, and you don't need to do everything by yourself. Not when you have people around who care about you, and want to help." Ingrid told you. You really weren't sure if you believed her.
"Look, y/n, obviously this isn't something thats going to fix overnight. But there are a lot of things we can do to get you help. Can you promise me you'll try them?" Alexia asked, ever the planner.
"Yeah. I guess." You responded. Alexia was a little disappointed in your lack of enthusiasm, but Rome wasn't built in a day.
"And, I want you to promise me that when you're having a hard time, you'll try to call one of us. I know that isn't easy for you, but you deserve to be helped when you're hurting, and we want nothing more than to be there for you." Alexia stated. "That goes for anything; if you're hurt, or sick, or sad, or anxious, or feeling like doing something to yourself. You can call any of us, night or day."
"Really? You won't be mad?" You asked, not really letting yourself believe Alexia's words.
Alexia shook her head. "Never. We'll never be mad at you for any of those things. And we'll never be annoyed at you for reaching out to one of us."
"Okay. I can try." You told her, feeling like maybe you could.
"That's all we're asking for, pequeña. Just try for us, okay?" Alexia said. You nodded, wiping at your eyes.
"Thanks, guys." You said, voice barely more than a whisper as you tried to keep it from breaking. Ever one to change the mood, Mapi got up then, jostling Ingrid, and came over to the couch, sprawling across you and Alexia.
"Good. Now I can nap. And keep an eye on you." She said, letting out a contented sigh. You and Alexia tried in vain to push her off of you, laughing. Ingrid rolled her eyes at her girlfriend antics, but came over too, sitting next to you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You smiled at her, at all three of them. You felt like, for the first time in a long time, maybe you could do this. Maybe you would be okay. You were going to try at least.
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thanks for reading!!!! someone requested r almost getting into a fight and her friends intervening, which didn't really fit into how i wrote the timeline, but if people are into that idea, i could do a oneshot of it. i also might follow this up with r reaching out to each of the girls when she's struggling, because recovery isn't a straight line, and inevitably relapses happen. keep things realistic, + I <3 hurt comfort. let me know if you guys want to see any of this :)
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lalacliffthorne · 7 months
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mornings are for laying in bed, talking in hushed voices and tracing Azriel´s tattoos.
(hhrrrrggghhh... *buried in pillows in single* this writer is touchstarved. proceed with caution.)
The morning sun filtered through the curtains as I soundlessly slipped into Azriel´s room, crunching my nose in concentration as I slowly closed the door as quietly as possible.
It was Sunday morning, early Sunday morning; the flat was completely quiet just like the street outside, and the only reason I had woken up and slipped out of Azriel's arms was that I had desperately needed the bathroom.
Wincing when the door handle squeaked the tiniest bit, I looked over my shoulder, and my heart did a backflip.
The morning light illuminated Azriel's bare back, sculpted muscles relaxed under his even skin. He was stretched out on his stomach, the blankets pooling around his waist and his shoulders rising with his even breaths as his hand curled into the pillow where there was an empty, me-shaped spot in the sheets. His dark hair was a mess, and even from where I was standing, his head turned the other way, I could see the tousled strands curving over his forehead and his peacefully calm face, brows smooth and lips parted.
Trying to breathe against the sudden violent flutter in my chest that I really should get checked, I quietly turned around and tapped over to the window, the wooden floors cool under my bare feet when I peaked through the curtains. The sun was just peaking over the houses on the other side of the street, the city still quiet, the sky bright blue.
Turning to quickly slide back under the warm covers and curl into Azriel's chest, my gaze landed on his desk, and my heart dipped and fluttered.
Quietly stepping closer, I reached out, and my fingers brushed over the pictures strewn over the wooden top. They must've been newly developed, because they were still unsorted. Gently pushing them apart, I felt something rise warmly in my chest and how a smile slowly spread over my face as my gaze moved over the pictures. A few first warm rays of sun tickled the side of my face, and I brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, staring at a picture Azriel had taken in a mirror, with me standing in front of him and his arms wrapped around my shoulders, half obscuring my face as I tipped back my head to look up at him. I could just see the upwards tilt of his lips peaking out from under the camera.
There was a soft click behind me, and I jumped a little, my head dipping and missing a beat when I quickly looked over my shoulder, and Azriel pressed the shutter release button again. Then he raised his head, his eyes glowing amber in the sunlight as one corner of his lips curved upwards slowly.
The flutter in my chest grew into something that stole my breath, warmth rising into my cheeks, and I lost the fight against the ridiculously wide smile pushing onto my lips.
Turning around, the bed creaked softly when I clambered up onto the mattress. Azriel rolled onto his back, his bright eyes following me, and I plopped down, my shins bracketing his lean sides when I settled on his hips and sent him a slow, cheeky grin.
My big sweatshirt slipped up my thighs as I reached out and carefully pulled the camera from Azriel's fingers, considering it curiously. His hands sank down, slowly beginning to brush up and down my thighs. His rough, warm skin left a trail of tingles in its wake before his hands settled just below my hips.
Squeezing one eye shut, I looked through the viewfinder, and my heart staggered and tumbled.
Lowering the camera a little, I squinted at Az, feeling my nose crinkle in a sheepish, cheeky smile as I said softly: "Can I -"
Azriel's eyes flickered over my face for moment before he blinked and nodded lightly, and it almost looked a little like his throat worked to suppress a small swallow.
My lips curved into a wide smile, and I raised the camera again, looking through the viewfinder. A few first rays of sunlight were falling through the curtains and made Azriel's iris look like molten gold as he watched me, dark hair tousled and messy, broad chest bare and hands on my thighs, warm and scarred and fingers slow tracing shapes on my skin, and my heart rose in a thrum as I pressed the shutter release button.
Raising my head again, I caught the bright light in Azriel's eyes as his gaze flickered over my face. Then he blinked; his hands slid up my sides, and he tugged me down.
Quickly craddling his camera against my chest, I inhaled softly when his warm breath brushed my lips. Then Azriel's nose gently traced over mine, and he lifted his chin to kiss me, slow and warm and causing my heart to shudder.
A soft sound escaped me, and I could feel Azriel beginning to smile slowly against my lips. Then one of his hands slipped to the small of my back while the other closed over mine, and he gently tugged the camera from my grip. His grip tightened, and he pulled me down flush onto his chest and rolled us over.
My breath hitched and heart rose when his warm, solid body pressed mine into the mattress.
Without breaking the kiss, Azriel reached out, a small clonk indicating him setting the camera back onto the bedside table, and breathing out, my heart rising, I slipped my fingers into his hair and kissed back.
A soft sound broke from my throat, and my back arched up into his chest when Azriel's arm slipped around my waist to pull me closer. Slinging my legs around his sides, I buried my fingers in his hair, and something turned over in my belly when Azriel exhaled softly and deepened the kiss.
The sun started to peak through the curtains, Azriel's hips lodged between my legs locked around him as he kissed me, and I kissed back, until my lips were tingling and the world was spinning.
When Azriel finally slowly broke away, his nose softly nudging against mine, a small, involuntary sound of protest left me, and Azriel chuckled against my lips, the sound, deep and soft, sending tingles through my whole body when he mumbled, voice hoarse and raspy with sleep: "Morning."
Exhaling as something rose and began to flutter in my chest, I felt a smile spread slowly over my face when Azriel brushed his nose gently over mine, then I pulled my head back just a little to open my eyes.
My breath hitched, and my gaze flickered over Azriel's face just a few inches away, drinking in the sharp line of his cheekbones and jaw, the golden spots in his amber eyes and the way a few strand of his tousled hair fell into his forehead. I could feel the warmth radiating from him, the weight of his tall body on mine grounding instead of suffocating. The muscles in his shoulders shifted a little as his grip around my waist tightened and his eyes stared back, calm and steady and with the trace of a twinkle growing in his iris that made something pound against my ribs.
"Hi,", I whispered back with a slow, wide smile, and a soft crease appeared in Azriel's cheek. His eyes, warm and still a little full with sleep, slowly dragged over my face, then he dipped down a little, his arm wrapping closer around my waist as he rolled back onto his side, pulling me with him.
Wrapping my arms around his neck with a content sigh, I buried my nose in Azriel's neck and felt his hand slide to the back of my knee, dragging my leg over his side until the length of my body was pressed flush against his, and my heart dipped and rose. Then his fingers slipped under my sweatshirt, up and up until his arm was wrapped around me, and Azriel dropped his head to bury his face in the crook of my neck, nuzzling his nose against my skin.
"You smell good,", he mumbled, the low, hoarse rumble of his voice reverberating through me and causing my my breath to hitch.
"What?" I felt my smile lips curve into a soft grin as my fingers carded through his hair.
"You smell good." I could hear the trace of a smile in Azriel's quiet, raspy voice, his shoulders rising as he breathed in slowly and his grip tightened around me, and something warm swelled in my chest, beginning to flutter when he mumbled: "Really good." His rough fingers began to trace slow patterns onto my shoulder blades. "Even my bed smells like you."
My heart suddenly raced, and I squinted, barely biting back a giggle. "Sorry?"
Azriel's lips curved against my neck, then he raised his head to lean his forehead against mine, his nose softly nudging against mine when he mumbled, his deep, slow voice vibrating through me: "Wasn't complaining."
My heart fluttered and soared, and Azriel's chest rumbled as his arms slipped tighter around me, then he dipped his head, and something in my chest simply tipped over when he kissed me, warm and firm and causing the world to tilt. I exhaled softly and a little shakily, and Azriel's lips curved up against mine, causing me to bury my fingers in his hair.
"Shut up,", I grumbled softly against his lips, causing a chuckle to vibrate through Azriel's chest.
Sliding my hand over his warm chest, I pulled back slowly, brushing my nose over Azriel's and causing a small sound to build in his chest. My eyes got caught on the ink on his shoulder, and feeling something begin to rise in my chest, I pushed myself forward.
Azriel complied, rolling onto his back as he stared up at me, a gentle curious crease between his brows, and I settled on his hips, a strand of hair falling into my face as I stared at the tattoos on his shoulders and carefully brushed my fingertips over one of them.
Azriel's breath seemed to grow uneven as my fingers started to carefully follow the lines swirling over his warm, smooth skin, gently tracing the shapes. I could feel the muscles shift under my fingers when my hand slowly moved over his chest with featherlight touches, his eyes piercing my face, his fingers digging lightly into my knees. Then I leaned down, my heart beating steadily against my ribs, and a small, deep sound left Azriel when I pressed my lips gently against his collarbone.
My fingers stilled as I started to follow the lines and curves of the intricate shapes, my nose brushing over Azriel's skin, and my heart rose every time I lingered to slowly press my lips against the ink. Something thrummed against my ribs when one of Azriel's hands slipped into my hair and a soft, shuddering breath left him that made me smile slowly against his warm skin. He smelled woodsy and earthy like his cologne and something beneath, warm and dark and good, that was just him.
My fingers traced over his ribs as I brushed my nose over his shoulder and softly kissed his collarbone, my nose tracing over the shifting muscles in his neck before I gently pressed my lips against his warm skin, and Azriel gave a soft, shaking sound. His hand slipped further into my hair, pulling my head up, and my heart dipped when he caught my lips in a deep kiss.
My fingers curled into his sides as a soft sound escaped me. Then I kissed back, and Azriel pulled me closer towards him, his breath heavy against my skin when he deepened the kiss, almost a little feverishly.
Digging my fingers into his bare skin, I sucked in a soft breath when Azriel slowly broke the kiss, my heart thrumming as the world spun. His thumb brushed over the side of my neck as Azriel swallowed lightly, and a gentle hum vibrated through his chest, the deep sound a little hoarse when he softly nudged his nose against mine.
Opening my eyes with a flutter, my heart rose into my throat when my eyes met golden ones, bright in the morning sun, golden specks melting together as they dragged over my face. Then Azriel blinked, and a soft surprised sound left me when he rolled onto his side and slid me off his torso onto the mattress; his arm snuck around my waist, and in one smooth move, he dragged me over the sheets into his chest.
My breath hitched, and something rose in my chest when I felt his tall body curve around mine, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle, his solid chest pressing into my back as Azriel buried his nose in the crook of my neck.
A breathy giggle bubbled in my chest as my heart dipped, and I felt Azriel's lips curve upwards a little. Then he tugged me closer, thighs sliding into between my calves and arm tightening around me like I wasn't already tightly pressed into his body. Reaching out, I crunched my nose in concentration as I tried to get a hold of the blanket, tugging at it and pulling it over us.
A wave of Azriel's scent washed over me (everything smelling like me my ass), and snuggling into the heavy sheets, I slipped my fingers through Azriel's resting right over my chest. His hand shifted, his fingers linking gently with mine, then his thumb started to slowly brush back and forth over my skin.
Something thrummed warm and steadily against my chest as I stared at the sliver of sunlight falling onto the sheets, my eyelids beginning to feel heavy again, Azriel's scent rising into my nose with every breath. I felt his body pressed against mine, warm and solid, the weight of his arm draped over me and the way his thumb slowly brushed over mine as he buried his nose at my neck, and something began to flutter gently against my ribs as I breathed out softly and allowed my eyes to drift shut.
@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secret-ly-here @knmendiola @luvmoo @azriels-mate123 @bookishbroadwaybish @maybe-a-winchester @stayinglow-exploringworlds
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ghosttotheparty · 11 months
Text
part one also on ao3
Steve’s breaths land on Eddie’s chest as he sleeps.
Slow, and soft, and quiet, and Eddie relishes it. The feeling of his breath, the warmth of his face pressing to Eddie’s skin, and the weight of his hand that’s curled into a loose fist. He feels so small on top of Eddie, though his limbs are long, though he’s larger than life itself. He feels like… a boy.
He’s just a boy.
Eddie blinks his eyes open in the morning light, squinting the way he does every morning as the sun rises. It drives him a little crazy, never being able to sleep in, but it’s nice to be awake when Wayne comes home. To get his forehead kiss and fond, “Mornin’.”
Eddie shifts down a little, carefully moving Steve to look at him, and Steve nuzzles his face into the pillow, sighing in his sleep. His fingers open, spreading and then curling like he’s trying to grab at Eddie’s shirt, but his fingers just dig into his skin a little bit. Eddie smiles, reaching to take his hand carefully, and when Steve’s fingers curl around his, Eddie lifts it to his lips and presses a soft kiss to his knuckles.
He gazes at him. In the morning light, his hair looks like it’s glowing, like threads of spun gold, like he’s some fairy tale character. His expression is light, and Eddie realizes that his resting face is almost smiling. His eyelashes fan under his eyes, and his cheeks are pink, and Eddie’s dark sweatshirt makes his skin looks even more golden. Eddie gazes some more.
He never thought he’d be here. Lying in bed on a Saturday morning with Steve Harrington across from him, sleeping, holding his hand like a child. Steve breathes. A bird chirps outside.
Something shifts in Eddie’s chest. It falls into place.
Steve wakes up slowly. Eddie thinks he wants to see him wake up every single morning. He inhales deeply, his fingers tightening on Eddie’s hand for a moment as he sighs, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before he blinks them open. His gaze finds their hands first, and he blinks again, his finger shifting in Eddie’s, and then he looks up.
He half-smiles, and his voice is rough when he speaks.
“You’re watching me sleep?”
Eddie smiles, releasing his hand and reaching out to touch him as Steve settles his hand on Eddie’s arm that’s bent under his head. His fingers push his hair aside and press into Eddie’s bicep as Eddie caresses the side of his face.
“Sleeping beauty.”
Steve’s smile widens, and he closes his eyes again. Eddie brushes his hair back, and he moves forward to kiss his forehead before he gets up.
Wayne comes home as they’re sitting at the table, sipping coffee from mugs that were taken down from around the living room. Steve’s is blue.
“Mornin’.”
He stops as the door closes behind him, eyes finding Steve sitting there, his feet on the chair, one of his knees drawn up to his chest. Steve freezes, looking up at him, and Eddie leans back in his seat, smiling as Steve’s cheeks flush pink in embarrassment, like he thinks Wayne can just tell.
“...Who are you?” Wayne asks as he toes off his work boots, eyeing Steve.
“I’m, uhm, Steve Harrington. Sir.”
Eddie grins into his mug, watching Steve set his down awkwardly like he doesn’t know if Wayne is going to want to shake his hand or something. Wayne looks at him.
“Harrington,” he says.
Steve blinks, nodding after a moment, and Eddie remembers suddenly that Wayne’s been in this town his whole life. He knows the Harringtons. Everyone knows the Harringtons.
“And you’re here with Eddie?” Wayne says, looking down at Eddie, who meets his eyes and raises his eyebrows, tilting his head.
“Yes, sir?” Steve says hesitantly.
“You don’t know?”
“I— Yes, I’m with him.”
Steve’s face is red, and he glances at Eddie nervously.
“You’re hanging out with Eddie?” Wayne says, and Eddie rolls his eyes.
“…Yes.”
“Even though he’s weird?”
Eddie lets out an offended squawk, and Steve half-smiles.
“I like him,” he says, his voice softer.
“Why?”
Steve giggles, looking at Eddue. His cheeks are pink.
“Be nice, Wayne,” Eddie says, mumbling into his mug as he takes another sip.
“I am,” Wayne says defensively. “I sure hope you’re nothing like your daddy, boy,” he says to Steve, and Eddie clicks his tongue, swinging his arm around to hit his leg.
“Respectfully, sir, I’d rather kill myself than be anything like him.”
Wayne barks out a laugh, and Eddie chokes on his coffee, leaning forward to wipe his face. Steve looks at him with wide eyes, murmuring an apology, smiling.
“Alright then,” Wayne says, and Eddie can hear the smile in his voice. “I’m gonna take a shower and head to bed,” he says, ruffling Eddie’s hair and leaning down to smack a kiss to his temple. He pauses on his way down the hall.
“Steve?”
“Uh, yes?” Steve stutters, leaning to see him around Eddie, who turns to look at Wayne with a raised eyebrow.
“You need anything, you come on by, alright?”
Eddie looks back at Steve. Steve blinks, his expression softening, and he nods.
“Thank you,” he says quietly.
Wayne disappears down the hall, and Steve dissolves, slumping. He lowers his head to the table, pushing his mug away as he hits his head lightly on the table a few times. Eddie laughs, reaching out to pat his head.
“Leave me to die,” Steve grumbles into the table.
“You’re so dramatic,” Eddie says fondly, tugging his hair. Steve just groans. “…Stevie.”
“Mm.”
Eddie tugs again and leans over the table, tilting his head at him as Steve looks up at him, his eyes cutting up at him like a sad puppy. Eddie’s chest aches a little.
“I like you too,” he says softly, smiling when Steve’s cheeks flush pink.
“Really?” he asks, his voice small. Eddie tilts his head the other way.
“We had sex last night, Steve.”
Steve shushes him, and Eddie grins.
“And?” Steve says quietly, taking his mug again and twisting it around, fidgeting. “We’ve both had meaningless sex with people.”
Eddie pauses, looking at how Steve is looking down at his mug, legs crossed on his chair, the sleeves of Eddie’s sweatshirt almost covering his hands. And he reaches across the table, tracing Steve’s knuckles lightly, tentatively. Steve looks at him again with those eyes. Shy. Nervous.
“Last night wasn’t meaningless,” he says softly. “To me.”
Steve blinks at him, his cheeks flushing again. (Eddie loves how much he blushes.)
“Me too,” he says, and then he pauses, blinking again. “Me either? You know what I mean.”
Eddie giggles, and he leans across the table, tilting his chin up. Steve smiles, softening as he leans to meet him in a light kiss that tastes like coffee. (Steve takes his black, the menace.)
They stay in the living room. Watch a movie on the small television. Steve sits next to him on the sofa for a while before he relaxes when Eddie puts his arm around him, pulling him close, and he gradually melts against him until he’s finally laying next to him, his head in his lap. Eddie plays with his hair, forgetting about the movie as he gazes down at him. Steve holds his other hand, tangling their fingers and squeezing.
— — — — —
“Oh my god, no, he was so sweet about it.”
“But he rejected you, I can’t believe that.”
Eddie sighs heavily, dropping his head onto the textbook in front of him. It was quiet just a few moments ago, and his brain was finally getting used to it enough for him to read without getting distracted. But the girls’ voices carry over through the bookshelves, through the air, and he really doesn’t care about their drama right now.
“He was so nice, Marie, seriously. Told me I was pretty and all, but…”
“Why didn’t he wanna go out with you?” the other girl asks, aghast. “You’re a total catch.”
Eddie almost groans out loud.
“He just said he wasn’t interested,” she says lightly. “It’s not a big deal, he was nice about it.”
“Steve Harrington has never once rejected a girl,” Marie says, and that catches Eddie’s attention. He lifts his head. “I don’t get why he’s starting with you.”
Eddie blinks, tilting his head as he listens.
“Maybe he has a secret girlfriend,” the girl says, and Marie giggles. Eddie pulls the collar of his shirt up over his face, suppressing a smile.
The next time he sees Steve it’s in the hallway, and their eyes meet. And then Eddie is the one blushing, because Steve smiles at him. (That’s all it takes. A smile. Eddie is pathetic.)
Eddie tilts his head, gesturing down the hall, and Steve nods subtly. He’s standing with Tommy Hagan and some others, but as Eddie steps backward down the hall, he says something to them that Eddie can’t hear. And then he’s following Eddie down the hall, calling something to his friends, and Eddie is suppressing a smug smile, heading down toward the bathroom, praying it’s empty.
Steve is right behind him as he’s headed inside, and Eddie is grinning now. It is empty, and Steve’s hand presses against the top of his back, pushing him inside and toward the stall that’s the farthest back. Eddie goes easily, dropping his bag as he turns and lets Steve push him into the wall as the stall door swings shut behind them.
“Hi,” Eddie breathes, grinning and reaching up to touch his face as Steve kisses him hard.
“Hi,” Steve whispers back when they part with a gasp. He’s holding his neck and leaning against him to press him into the wall.
“Heard you rejected some girl,” Eddie says softly, his eyes trained on Steve’s lips, which curve into a smile.
“Where’d you hear that?”
“Sound carries a lot in the library,” Eddie complains, tracing his jaw carefully. “‘Steve Harrington has never once rejected a girl,’” he murmurs, dragging his fingertip lightly across his jaw to touch his lips, pulling the bottom one down before he releases it, smiling as it pops back into place. Steve hums softly.
“Maybe I got my eye on someone right now,” he says softly, almost whispering, his eyes shining, half-shut as he looks at Eddie. His hands slide over Eddie’s waist
“Yeah?”
“Mhmm.”
“She pretty?” Eddie teases. Steve suppresses a smile, his tongue sliding across his lower lip.
“The prettiest,” he teases back.
Eddie scrunches his nose, tilting his head at him, and Steve kisses him. His hand presses into Eddie’s chest, pushing him into the wall, and Eddie tilts his head, wrapping his arms around his neck, letting his lips part as Steve slips his tongue across them.
He pushes his fingers into Steve’s hair, and he kind of wants to mess it up, to tangle it and make it stick up in ways Steve would never allow it to, and then he kind of wants to make Steve leave like this. To not let him fix it in the mirror. He kind of wants Steve to look like he’s been making out with someone. And he kind of wants people to talk. To ask Steve who the lucky girl is.
Eddie tightens his hand in Steve’s hair, pulling it at the roots, and Steve huffs, sliding a hand down to the small of his back and pulling him close. Eddie licks into his mouth, tugging his hair to make him tilt his head back, and Steve lets him, sighing softly.
They part when the door to the bathroom bursts open, and they freeze, holding each other tightly, staring at each other and holding their breaths as they listen to someone come in, muttering to himself.
Eddie’s chest aches. Because they have to hide. Because they both know it, they know it so well they aren’t even breathing. And Steve seems to think it at the same time. His eyes flick back and forth between Eddie’s, and his hands run across the small of his back. Eddie slides his hands to hold his face tenderly, looking at him intently.
They both flinch when the boy rips some paper towels from the dispenser loudly, the sound echoing in the room. And then the door opens and shuts again.
They exhale, and before Eddie can say anything, Steve is leaning in and kissing him hard. Eddie closes his eyes, his fingers sliding behind his ears to hold his head. He lets out a soft groan.
They’re both breathing hard when they part, and their foreheads press. Steve reaches to touch Eddie’s face, holding it gently in his hands, and Eddie feels like he deserves it, this tenderness he’s only found on the palms of Steve Harrington’s hands.
They look at each other. Steve looks like he’s going to start crying. Eddie brushes his thumbs over his cheeks as he whispers to him.
“We’re not doing anything wrong.”
Steve blinks at him. His expression softens. And he kisses him again, slow and soft and gentle.
“I know,” he murmurs.
Eddie pulls him into a hug. He buries his face in his neck, sighing as Steve hugs him back, and he closes his eyes.
“I have basketball practice today,” Steve says, his voice muffled. “It ends at, uhm. Five.”
“Yeah,” Eddie says softly.
“…You wanna come over tonight?”
Eddie grins.
“Yeah. Of course.”
“I’ll make you dinner.”
Eddie’s smile widens.
“You don’t have to convince me,” he says. “I already said I’d go.”
“No, I wanna,” Steve says softly. “Wanna treat you good.”
Eddie groans into his neck, grumbling a weak, “Baby,” as he kisses him. Steve’s hand makes its way to Eddie’s head, cradling the back of it as he exhales.
“Eddie?”
“Yeah, honey.”
“...Can you give me a hickey?”
Eddie pauses, nuzzling into Steve’s neck.
“Here?”
“Mhmm.”
“Are you sure?” Eddie asks, pressing a slow kiss to his skin. Steve’s breath hitches, and he tilts his head farther to the side, humming affirmatively.
“Want people to wonder.”
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, and he whines softly in the back of his throat. He’s never made a noise like this before, and his face flushes with heat, but Steve just breathes a soft, “Please,” and Eddie is putty in his hands.
Eddie opens his mouth and presses another kiss to his neck, slowly, carefully, intentionally, and Steve exhales, his fingers pressing into Eddie’s hair and scratching at his scalp lightly. He hisses in pain when Eddie bites down hard, sucking his skin between his teeth and licking at it, but his hand holds Eddie in place, his other hand gripping his waist as he breathes hard.
“Yeah,” he chokes after a moment, his voice weak and thin. “Fuck, like that.”
Eddie grins, digging his teeth into Steve’s skin, sucking harder, and Steve whimpers, pulling Eddie’s hair. He releases the skin after a moment, kissing it softly and dragging his tongue over it to soothe it, and then he bites down again, his body flushing with heat when Steve lets out a weak, “Oh, shit,” and whimpers again. Eddie shushes him softly, slipping his fingertips under the hem of his shirt to touch his soft skin. Steve squeaks, and Eddie grins again, listening to Steve’s breathing as he kisses his neck again.
When he pulls away, Steve’s skin is reddening.
“How was that?” he asks like he doesn’t know.
“Eddie,” Steve whines.
Eddie shushes him again, grinning and kissing his lips softly.
“Was that good?” he whispers.
“Yeah,” Steve breathes. His eyes are closed, his head fallen back. Eddie brushes their noses together, stroking his neck softly, and Steve reaches up after a moment, tilting his head and pressing his fingertips into the bruise. He lets out a strained breath, biting his lip.
Eddie kisses him again, smiling as Steve kisses him back desperately, his hand jumping to hold Eddie’s neck, and Eddie pushes him back against the other side of the stall. Steve hums softly, moving to wrap his arms around Eddie's neck, and Eddie slips his hands under Steve’s shirt.
Steve chokes, his arms tightening, his tongue sliding between Eddie’s lips. Eddie kisses him some more, listening to his soft, breathy hums, listening carefully in case the door opens again.
“Gotta go,” he says after a little while, between kisses. Steve whines. “Come on.”
“I don’t wanna stop,” Steve complains, his head falling back to the wall as Eddie leans to pepper his neck with kisses. Eddie hesitates before kissing the hickey, scraping with his teeth, and his chest aches as Steve lets out a pained whimper. His fingers tug at Eddie's hair again, but he holds him in place when Eddie tries to lift his head, and Eddie grins, licking the spot gently.
“Stevie,” he whispers.
“Mm.”
“Don’t pout,” Eddie giggles, nudging their noses together.
“‘M not pouting,” Steve says, pouting. He’s almost smiling, looking at Eddie like a puppy again, and Eddie wishes he could freeze time. He touches the hickey, pressing against it lightly, watching Steve’s eyes flutter shut, watching him furrow his brows and bite his lip.
“I’ll give you another one tonight,” he murmurs. “After dinner.”
Steve’s eyes open.
“Wherever you want,” Eddie asks, whispering. Steve’s eyebrows jump, and he smiles.
“Okay,” he breathes. Eddie kisses him.
“I’ll see you later.”
Another kiss.
“Okay.”
Kiss.
“Have fun at practice.”
Kiss. Steve is smiling now.
“You’re stalling,” he says between kisses.
“I know.”
He kisses him again, and Steve giggles, finally pushing his shoulders.
“Get outta here,” he says, holding Eddie away. Eddie bites his lip, taking a breath as he stoops to grab his bag, and he pauses before opening the stall door. He’s almost past the stalls before he groans, turning back around, and Steve is lingering in the stall door, smiling like he knew Eddie would do this: come back to kiss him desperately, holding his face and grinning. It’s fast, three kisses in quick succession before he finally tears himself away.
“See you later, sweet thing,” Eddie says, and Steve blushes before he waves half-heartedly. Eddie catches himself before he can say love you without thinking, and he blows him a kiss.
The sun is going down when Eddie shows up at his house, and Steve greets him by jumping him in the doorway. Eddie catches him in his arms, yelling in protest, and they fall to the floor, Eddie on top of Steve.
“Oh my god,” Eddie says loudly, grinning as Steve cackles, his arms around Eddie. “Are you okay?”
“I’m great,” Steve says, looking up at Eddie and pushing his curls back, tucking them tenderly behind his ears. Steve’s hair is wet, and it smells like expensive products. “How are you?”
“Fine,” Eddie says softly, looking down at him. His eyes find the hickey on his neck, and it’s almost purple now, dark against Steve’s skin. Eddie exhales. “Oh, I fucked you up.”
“Yeah,” Steve says, grinning happily even though he’s on the floor.
“Did people talk?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“And?”
“They’re very curious.”
Eddie beams, caressing his face. Steve turns his face into his hand, his eyes shining, and Eddie can’t help but lean down to kiss him softly.
“What’d they say?”
“‘Steve’s got a secret girlfriend,’” Steve says, imitating the others, a smile teasing his lips.
“What did you say?”
“Oh, I just pretended to not know what they’re talking about,” Steve says nonchalantly, and a laugh bursts out of Eddie.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. What hickey?”
Eddie laughs harder, and Steve pulls him down into a kiss, smiling and nipping at his lower lip. Eddie lets him, revelling in the kisses as he remembers they’re laying in the doorway of Steve’s house, the door open, halfway on the porch. Nobody’s around to see them, except the trees and the clouds and maybe some lightning bugs.
Eddie pulls away when Steve starts to lick into his mouth intently, and Steve groans.
“Dinner,” Eddie says, grinning when Steve leans up to catch his lips again. “And then we can make out.”
“You’re the worst.”
Eddie presses a finger into the hickey, and Steve lets out a hiss and an Ow!
“Fucker.”
Eddie snickers and kisses him again before he pushes himself up.
Steve makes pasta. Eddie sits on the counter and watches as he fills a pot and turns on the stove, as he gets out the pasta from a cabinet and sets out vegetables on the counter. He tells Eddie about how basketball practice went, and Eddie is barely following along. He doesn’t know any of the terminology, and Steve doesn’t seem to realize that Eddie doesn’t know anything about basketball, but Eddie doesn’t mind. Because Steve is ranting, his voice soft and smooth and content as he spins a knife in his fingers without even noticing himself do it (and that’s so much hotter than it should be) before he starts chopping the vegetables. He knows what he’s doing, and even though he’s talking the whole time, he finishes with the vegetables faster than Eddie could ever chop them. (Also Eddie would definitely at least nick his finger a few times, but Steve does it all effortlessly, smoothly. And Eddie grips the edge of the counter to control himself.)
Steve sits on the counter when he finishes, sliding the plates across the surface so they’re in front of Eddie, joining the cans of 7-Up, and hopping up. That’s effortless too; he seems weightless as he moves up onto the counter that Eddie had to use one of the chairs to get on. Eddie presses his lips together and pops open his soda.
“Cannot believe my boyfriend’s a normie,” he says quietly, and Steve snorts.
Eddie looks at him as he’s sipping his soda, and his heart swells when he sees the way Steve’s eyes are shining, almost sparkling.
“Problem?” Steve says playfully.
“You got a problem with your boyfriend bein’ a freak?” Eddie asks, tilting his head, and Steve tilts his head back before he reaches out and hooks his fingers on the silver chain around Eddie’s neck. He pulls him in so they’re both leaning over the plates between them and kisses him softly.
Steve hums thoughtfully when they part, eyes lingering on Eddie’s lips before he says, “No. I like it.”
Eddie giggles.
They go to the living room after eating, and Eddie comes up behind him as he leads him down the hall, stooping down and wrapping his arms around his legs to pick him up, holding him over his shoulder. Steve shrieks and clutches at him, laughing loudly as Eddie carries him into the living room and dumps him on the sofa before pouncing on top of him. Steve is laughing carelessly, happily, and Eddie’s whole body aches as he looks at him, at the way his eyes squint under his smile, at the way his hair is messy, now dry and a little frizzy.
“Are you gonna give me another?” Steve asks between kisses, his fingers in Eddie’s hair as they lick the taste of pasta out of each other’s mouths.
“You want more?” he asks breathlessly.
“Yes, please.”
Eddie shifts so he’s straddling Steve’s hips, and he sits up, tying his hair up in a ponytail with the hair tie around his wrist. Steve giggles, watching, his hands on Eddie’s thighs.
“Where do you want it?” Eddie asks, running his hands across Steve’s chest. Steve’s cheeks are pink, and he looks up at Eddie like he’s fucking reverent before he tilts his head, exposing the side of his neck, the side that’s bare. Eddie grins.
He leans down, brushing Steve’s hair out of the way, and Steve sighs as Eddie brushes his lips over his skin.
“You want it like the other one?” Eddie murmurs.
“Yeah,” Steve breathes.
Eddie kisses his neck softly at first, smiling when Steve’s hands squeeze his thighs. He takes his time, pressing soft, lingering kisses across his skin for a while before he starts licking him, short kitten licks that make Steve exhale slowly, melting into the sofa, his hands loosening on Eddie’s legs before they slide around to his ass and squeeze. Eddie giggles, lifting his head to look at his neck. He can see his veins beneath his skin in some places, and part of him feels like a vampire here, gazing at them.
He presses a kiss to his neck and slides his mouth across his skin until he feels his pulse against his lips. He hums softly, pausing there, feeling the rhythm of Steve’s heartbeat against his lips, lingering. It’s a little fast, and Eddie smiles.
“Eddie,” Steve whines. “Bite me.”
Eddie snorts.
“Rude.”
“You know what the fuck I mean.” Eddie can hear the smile in his voice.
“I know what the fuck you mean.”
He kisses his pulse. And then bites.
Steve lets out a shaky exhale, his hands tightening. Eddie closes his eyes, enjoying himself as he sucks on Steve’s skin, as he bites him and scrapes his teeth over it, as he soothes the spot between bites with gentle swipes of his tongue, as Steve squeezes his ass absentmindedly, almost kneading it. They’re both humming softly, and Steve is letting out strained groans as Eddie bites him, murmuring curses and Eddie’s name under his breath.
When he finally sits up, he looks at the spot on Steve’s neck, and it’s already bruising.
“Might actually be worse than the first one, actually,” Eddie says thoughtfully, brushing over it with his thumb. Steve exhales without opening his eyes.
“Thank fuck,” he says, smiling when Eddie snorts. “Want ‘em to see it.”
“You are an attention whore,” Eddie says, smiling as he leans down to kiss Steve’s lips, and then he kisses across his face as Steve laughs softly.
“‘S fun,” he says as Eddie kisses his jawline, nipping at his skin with his teeth.
“You want one more?”
“Fuck, yeah.”
Eddie gives him one more. This time it’s just under his ear, and Eddie can smell his shampoo as he bites and licks and kisses him, smiling the whole time as Steve whines and groans and swears.
“Eddie,” he says when Eddie finally pulls away.
“Yeah,” Eddie says breathlessly.
“I wanna come.”
“Go ahead.”
Steve whines again, his eyes squeezing shut, and Eddie shifts on his lap, grinding down on him and grinning when Steve gasps. Steve’s hands slide to Eddie’s hips, pulling him down harder.
“Shit, Eddie, I’m—”
“You got it,” Eddie says softly, reaching to his neck and curiously, carefully holding his throat so his fingers press into the bruises. Steve keens, his fingers so tight on Eddie they might bruise (and wouldn’t that be nice: the memory of Steve’s hand on him), and he lets out a loud moan, follows by a breathless Yes.
Eddie tightens his hand, grinding against him again and grinning when Steve lets out an open-mouthed moan, and he’s suddenly very grateful that Steve lives in the fucking woods, that nobody is around to hear him like this. Then he remembers that no one ever has heard him like this, and his grin widens, because he’s the first. Because he gets this, and no one else does.
And because—
“Never thought I’d get this,” he murmurs, leaning down to nudge their noses together, still moving against Steve. Steve’s eyes flutter open to look at him, and he reaches a hand up to touch Eddie’s face. His eyes are glassy. “Even in my wildest fuckin’ dreams. Never thought I’d get anything like you.”
Steve whimpers, his other hand sliding up Eddie’s back, pushing his shirt up.
“Me too,” he says breathlessly. He sits up, pushing his face into Eddie’s neck and kissing him desperately, panting as he pulls at the small of Eddie’s back. Eddie smiles, tilting his head for him and closing his eyes, hugging his neck and pushing his fingers into his hair.
“Eddie,” Steve chokes after another minute.
“Yeah, baby.”
“Fuck. Fuck, I’m gonna come.”
“Me too.”
They hold each other as they come back down, arms tight around each other, faces buried in each other’s necks, and Eddie giggles quietly.
“That was fun,” Steve mumbles. Eddie kisses his neck softly and lifts his head, looking at him. His hair is messy, which Eddie loves, and his eyes are half-closed.
“Yeah, it was.”
He kisses him slowly, tenderly, holding his face. Steve doesn’t open his eyes when they part, his face relaxed, blissful.
“Will you spend the night with me?” he asks softly. “Please?”
Eddie just giggles and kisses him again.
He isn’t allowed to make fun of his wallpaper, which Steve tells him before he leads him upstairs, which just piques his interest. He hides his face in his shirt when they finally go into Steve’s room, trying not to laugh at the horrific plaid wallpaper, but he can’t hold back his giggles when he hears Steve snort.
They take a shower. Steve does his hair with some of his fancy products that smell nice, and Eddie tells him it’s never happening again. Steve sticks his tongue out at him in the mirror, his fingers dragging through his curls, but Eddie decides he’ll let Steve do this whenever he wants to when he sees the way his eyes are shining as he’s scrunching his curls and twisting them around his finger. He looks like he’s making art instead of doing Eddie’s hair.
Also, it feels nice. Which is a nice plus.
And every once in a while Steve’s bare chest presses to Eddie’s back as he reaches for another product. Which…
He’s so warm. Probably because of the shower and the lingering steam in the room, but Eddie thinks it might just be him. Like there’s sunlight in his veins.
In the morning, Eddie wakes up with his chest to Steve’s back, his arm draped across his waist, and he sits up slowly, squinting in the sunlight as he looks down at Steve, who shifts after Eddie’s movement. There are two bruises on the side of his neck that Eddie can see, and he smiles. He leans down and kisses one, and Steve inhales, one of his hands lifting sleepily and reaching for Eddie, who takes it and lifts it to his lips.
“Morning, gorgeous,” Eddie says roughly when Steve blinks his eyes open and rolls onto his back. Steve smiles and opens his arms, and Eddie lies on top of him, sighing as Steve’s arms wrap around him.
Eddie falls in love with mornings like this. Steve gets used to Eddie waking up early in the morning before his alarm clock goes off, and it becomes routine for him to just pull Eddie into a hug for a while. It also becomes routine for him to complain that they have to get up. Neither of them ever wants to, not when they know they have to go to school and they won’t be able to kiss each other or hold each other, when they’ll be separated until after school (unless Steve has basketball, or Eddie has Hellfire or band practice). But they still go.
Eddie hears the rumors and gossip swirling around school. About Steve’s secret girlfriend. About the hickeys that he refuses to hide. There are countless theories about whose mouth could have left them there. One of Steve’s friends asks if Steve refuses to tell them who it is because it’s a freshman, and Steve gags before glaring at him.
“No, I’m not a fucking creep.”
“Alright, we’re narrowing it down.”
Steve just rolls his eyes.
Theories span from other students, girls that Steve has and hasn’t hooked up with, to teachers, but when someone asks if it’s a teacher Steve just laughs.
Nobody even glances Eddie’s way.
— — — — —
Steve’s car is in front of the trailer when Eddie gets home from band practice. Eddie pauses when he parks the van, staring at it curiously for a moment before he gets out, grabbing his bag from the passenger seat of the van.
“Hello?” he says when he walks inside, looking at Steve and Wayne on the sofa. Steve’s legs are crossed, and he’s holding a mug in his hands, smiling contently. They’re watching a baseball game on the television.
“Hi, baby,” Steve says lightly.
“Are you coming over just to hang out with my uncle now?” Eddie asks as he kicks his sneakers off and sets his bag on the table. Steve’s head is tilted toward him, but his eyes are on the television, and Eddie smiles at how careless he looks, comfortable in Eddie’s living room. Eddie leans down to press a chaste kiss to his lips, and Steve smiles.
“I forgot you had practice today,” Steve says. “And there happened to be a game on.”
“Ah,” Eddie says, collapsing heavily onto the sofa between them. “So you guys aren’t becoming best friends.”
“Obviously Steve and I are best friends,” Wayne says dryly, turning to press a kiss to Eddie’s temple, eyes still on the game. Steve giggles, and Eddie grins.
He loves them.
He hasn’t told Steve yet (yet), but he thinks it all the time now. Every time he looks down at his sleeping face, every time he asks for a new hickey, every time he sees him laugh with Wayne.
They keep ganging up on Eddie together, teasing him about his hair, his music, his clothes. (Wayne teases him and calls him a vampire when he sees the way he’s marked up Steve’s neck. Steve burns red the first time, but Eddie just grins, shameless.)
Eddie fucking loves it. Loves seeing their eyes sparkle, loves the way Wayne ruffles his hair affectionately, which he starts to do to Steve too. Whenever Steve is home when Wayne comes back or goes off to work, Wayne reaches to muss his hair before he leaves, and even though he’s Steve the Hair Harrington, Steve just grins and hunches his shoulders like a little kid.
Wayne calls Steve son. Eddie can see the way Steve’s eyes shine every time he says it.
And he sees the way Steve’s eyes shine when Wayne comes home one morning to find them on the sofa and kisses both their foreheads almost mindlessly, murmuring a soft Good morning before he heads off to shower and go to bed.
Eddie’s heart feels warm as he watches Wayne kiss Steve’s forehead, and then Steve watches Wayne disappear down the hall before he looks at Eddie, his eyes shining.
And then they’re glistening, and his lip quivers, and Eddie frowns.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, turning toward him, and touching his face as a tear escapes.
“Just…”
He shrugs, closing his eyes and falling against Eddie, who takes him into his arms.
“What is it?” Eddie asks gently, holding him and swaying as he rubs his arm.
“He’s really nice,” Steve says finally, his voice weak. Eddie smiles into his hair.
“He is, isn’t he?”
Steve sighs shakily, reaching to hold Eddie’s forearm.
“Sorry,” he says after a moment. “I don’t know why that was… I don’t know. Overwhelming.”
“‘S alright, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs, leaning to kiss his cheek. “You don’t have to be sorry.”
And he aches to say it. That he loves him.
But he doesn’t. Not now. Not when Steve’s already crying because he’s gotten casual affection that he isn’t used to.
It gets progressively more difficult to hold it back as time passes. Every time they say goodbye when they leave for school, every time they make out in a bathroom or a janitor’s closet with their veins full of adrenaline, every time they murmur greetings into each other’s mouths, every time they kiss regardless of their morning breath, every time Steve smiles the way he smiles every single time Wayne ruffles his hair and kisses his forehead.
— — — — —
They’re watching a movie when Steve’s parents come home. Steve is laying on Eddie’s chest as they lay on the sofa in the living room, his fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt, and Eddie feels a little sleepy, but the air stills when they hear a car pull into the driveway.
Eddie is about to ask who it could be when Steve sits up abruptly.
“What day is it?” he asks frantically, looking at Eddie with wide eyes.
“Uh, Saturday?” Eddie says, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie. Steve stands, clearly in a panic as he reaches for his hair.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
“Wait, wha— Babe, what’s…”
“‘S my parents,” Steve says, looking at Eddie desperately. “I forgot they were coming home today, I—”
Eddie reaches and gently pulls his hands out of his hair, squeezing them.
“It’s okay,” he says softly despite the panic in his own chest. “It’s alright. We’re friends, right?”
Steve exhales, lacing their fingers and squeezing as the front door opens.
“Okay,” he says softly.
Steve’s parents look how Eddie expected. His mother’s hair is stiff, frozen in place with an abundant amount of hairspray, and his father is wearing a suit that’s somehow not wrinkled despite the drive back to Hawkins from the airport.
Steve already seems mad at them. Eddie wonders if he is.
His mom kisses him on the cheek in greeting, but Steve looks stiff, smiling tightly as Eddie lingers in the doorway, hands rubbing his legs anxiously, trying to look normal.
“Who’s this?” Steve’s mom asks, eyeing Eddie when she releases Steve from their uncomfortable embrace. She’s looking him up and down. They both are.
“Uh, this is my— my friend,” Steve says, and Eddie waves, smiling. “Eddie.”
“Eddie,” his mom says lightly, but it’s a forced lightness. “What’s your last name, hun?”
It’s sickly sweet.
“Uh, Munson,” Eddie says, and Steve’s father finally speaks.
“Munson,” he repeats, looking at Eddie distastefully. His nose is almost wrinkled, like the rips in Eddie’s jeans have a stench.
“Yes, sir.”
“I thought your parents moved from Hawkins.”
Eddie blinks in surprise, and he remembers suddenly how small Hawkins really is. They probably went to school together.
“They did,” he says. “When I was sixteen. I live with my uncle now.”
“Your uncle.”
“Wayne Munson,” Eddie says confidently.
Steve’s father nods, looking at Eddie again, and then he turns to Steve with an air of disappointment around him. Steve seems to shrink into himself when their eyes meet, and Eddie wants to grab his hand and pull him away, to take him somewhere his father can’t look at him. To take him home.
“This is who you’re fraternizing with now?” he says as though Eddie isn’t even there. “A Munson? What happened to the Hagan boy?”
“I— I’m still friends with Tommy,” Steve says, and he even sounds like a kid now. “I can have more than one friend—”
“Stephen.”
Steve shrinks back even farther, looking down.
“I don’t want you fraternizing with people like this,” his father says, gesturing toward Eddie, who just watches, eyes wide, heart pounding, aching because Steve looks so scared. And a part of him wants to laugh at the use of fraternize. If he only knew that his son begs for Eddie to dig his teeth into his neck until bruises bloom on his skin, for Eddie to tug his pants down his legs and toss them aside, for Eddie to kiss him like the world is ending.
“You don’t even know them,” Steve says, looking up at his father anxiously. “Wayne is—”
“I knew Wayne in school,” his father snaps. “A pathetic underachiever, he isn’t the type we associate with, Stephen.”
Eddie’s hands are shaking. He glares at him, curling his fingers into fists to suppress the shaking, but it doesn’t work.
Steve is glaring at him too. Slowly, he raises his chin, squares his shoulders, and he’s shaking too.
“Don’t talk about Wayne like that.”
Eddie looks at him.
His father scoffs.
“You have no reason to associate with his type, he’ll rub off on you, Stephen,” he says matter-of-factly. “You need to stick the Hagans, not… trailer park trash.”
“Don’t talk about Wayne like that,” Steve says again, his voice louder, and his father looks taken aback, blinking in surprise.
“Stephen—”
“Wayne Munson is a good man,” Steve says firmly, his voice shaking a little. “He’s— He’s kind, and— and hardworking, and he—”
“I knew him in school, Stephen,” his father says again, his voice condescending and mean, and Steve snaps.
“That’s your problem,” he bursts loudly, and Eddie’s never seen him this angry. “You’re so stuck in your head, and— and focussed on stupid fucking juvenile things like popularity a— and— and social status, that can’t see past your own fucking nose.”
His father is staring at him, wide-eyed, scandalized.
“You’ve lived your life with your father’s fucking money, and you got everything handed to you,” Steve says angrily, jabbing his father’s chest with his fingers. “Your house was a wedding gift, and your job was waiting for you when you finished college, which you didn’t even pay for. You never had to fucking worry about affording food or water or a car.”
He’s breathing hard, and Eddie’s lips part in awe as he watches.
“Wayne fought for everything he has,” Steve says, his voice rough now. “You wouldn’t survive a day in his life, show him some fucking respect.”
Eddie’s eyes sting with tears, because Steve is defending Wayne. Standing up against his father even though he doesn’t have to, even though Wayne isn’t here to hear it. Even though he’s scared.
It’s quiet suddenly as Steve and his father stare at each other, and Steve is challenging him, chin raised as he looks into his eyes, hands in fists by his sides. Eddie can hear his own heartbeat in his ears.
And then his father is looking at Eddie, almost scoffing.
“What have you done to him?” he asks lightly, like it’s a joke, and Eddie doesn’t know what to do, what to say, but it doesn’t matter, because Steve speaks again.
“Don’t you fucking look at him.”
His father looks at him again, his eyebrows raised.
“If you have a problem with me, it’s with me,” Steve says evenly, firmly. “Not him.”
It’s quiet again. Eddie’s hands ball into fists, and adrenaline courses through his veins as he waits, just about ready to push his way between them, to do whatever he has to.
“How dare you speak to me like this? I’m your father—”
“I don’t care.”
“Stephen,” his mother says, speaking finally from where she’s backed into a corner, and Eddie looks at her, noticing how young she suddenly looks.
“I don’t care!” Steve yells. He looks at her, and then back at his father. “I don’t care. I’m sick and fucking tired of listening to you talk about people like this, especially people I love,” he says, his voice rapid and angry, and holy shit—
“You come home after leaving for weeks,” Steve says, skimming right past it like he didn’t notice himself say it, and Eddie is crying now, because Steve loves Wayne, Steve loves Wayne, Steve loves Wayne— “And the first thing you do every goddamn time is start bitching about the dishes in the sink, or the dirt on my car, or what my hair looks like, or who I’m with, or the fact that I didn’t call or I called too much, and there’s nothing I can fucking do right, and I don’t care.”
Eddie wipes his cheek quickly, sniffing as he watches Steve’s father nod, running his tongue over his teeth as he stares at Steve.
“You think I’m only here because of my father’s money,” he says slowly, eerily calm, ignoring everything Steve’s said. “Then we’ll see where you end up without your father’s money, how does that sound?”
“Sounds great,” Steve says without a beat. “At least I won’t end up as big an asshole as you.”
And then he’s turning and grabbing Eddie’s hand, pulling him out of the living room and toward the door, where they slip their shoes on and head out the door, leaving their dirty dishes on the coffee table as if in spite.
Steve is breathing hard as they get into the Beemer and pull out of the driveway, as they drive down the road, and Eddie doesn’t know what to do. He’s the only one crying, which feels wrong, but he can’t stop.
But even though Steve isn’t crying, his hands are shaking, and he’s breathing too hard, too fast, and Eddie finally reaches out to touch his arm. The road is luckily empty, but anxiety builds in his chest as Steve’s chest rises and falls and rises and falls.
“Stevie, pull over for me.”
Steve doesn’t pull over, still breathing hard, and Eddie shifts in his seat to face him, squeezing his arm.
“Steve. Pull over.”
Steve finally does, pulling over on the side of the road and putting the car in park. His hands fall to his lap, trembling, and Eddie squeezes his arm again.
He lets go to wipe his own face quickly, unbuckling his seatbelt and turning to face Steve completely, reaching to take one of his hands. Steve laces their fingers, still breathing too fast.
“Stevie, baby, look at me.”
Steve inhales sharply, and he turns to look at Eddie before he exhales slowly. Eddie nods, squeezing his hand.
“There you go,” he says softly. “Need you to breathe.”
Steve closes his eyes, nodding and taking a deep breath. Eddie runs his thumb across his knuckles, waiting as he exhales slowly, pauses, then inhales again.
When his breathing is slow again, he squeezes Eddie’s hand and turns toward him. They look at each other, and both of them are crying now, their eyes filled with tears. Eddie reaches out to wipe one away when it falls down Steve’s cheek, and Steve leans forward to press their foreheads together.
“Thank you,” Eddie murmurs softly.
“For what?” Steve whispers, twisting their fingers.
“...Standing up for Wayne like that,” Eddie says, his voice breaking. “I just…”
Steve lifts his head, looking at him, and his lip quivers, and he looks like he wants to say something, but doesn’t know what.
“I love you,” Eddie says, his voice thick as another tear falls down his cheek. Steve blinks, and tears fall from his eyes, and Eddie wipes them away.
“...Really?” Steve asks in a small voice. Eddie nods, smiling softly.
“Yeah. Really. I really, really love you.”
Steve blinks again, his lip quivering as his eyebrows raise like he’s shocked.
“I’ve wanted to tell you for a while,” Eddie says. “I just— You stood up for Wayne like that, and—” He sobs weakly, taking a stuttering breath.
“I love you too,” Steve says quickly, reaching to hold Eddie’s face. “And I love Wayne, and I love your trailer and all your fucking mugs and your posters and your music and—”
Eddie pulls him into a kiss, squeezing his eyes shut. Steve kisses him back desperately, hands holding Eddie’s face, fingers slipping into his curls. (Which have been so much softer and smoother since Steve’s been taking care of them.) When they part, they stay close, their foreheads pressing, taking slow, deep breaths as they hold each other.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Steve says after a while, his voice soft. Eddie sighs, caressing his cheek, and Steve turns his face into it, his eyes closed. There are tears caught in his eyelashes, and wet streaks down his cheeks, and his nose is rosy, and Eddie aches with how beautiful he is. He wonders how quickly he actually fell in love with him. If it was so fast he didn’t even notice until he almost blurted it out loud without thinking.
“Come home,” Eddie whispers, stroking his cheek. “You can borrow some clothes from me and Wayne, and we can go to yours to pack a bag if we need to.”
“...Okay,” Steve breathes.
He goes home.
Wayne is in the kitchen making himself coffee and a sandwich when they finally get to the trailer, and he notices right away that something is wrong. He leaves everything on the kitchen counter as he comes closer, looking at their tear-streaked faces.
“What happened?” he asks anxiously, wiping crumbs off his hands on his legs as Eddie and Steve kick their shoes off, and Steve wordlessly crosses the room toward him and pulls him into a tight hug. Wayne hugs him back tightly, looking up at Eddie worriedly. Eddie just smiles, watching.
Steve is crying again, shaking in Wayne’s arms, and Wayne runs his hands up and down his back firmly. Eddie leans against the table by the door, watching as Wayne closes his eyes, murmuring something too quiet for Eddie to hear. But Eddie hears Steve’s response, even though his voice is muffled by Wayne’s shoulder.
“I love you, Wayne.”
Wayne’s arms tighten around him, and they sway, and Wayne runs a hand over his back and he turns his face to kiss Steve’s head.
“I love you, too, Stevie, I got you.”
It’s like he knows.
Wayne carefully wipes Steve’s tears when they finally part, nodding and whispering to him. Eddie watches. He’s crying again. Wayne holds his hand out to him when he notices, and Eddie moves forward, taking it and leaning against Steve’s back, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as Steve sighs.
Wayne gets them both glasses of water and has them sit on the sofa. Eddie tells him what happened. Wayne’s eyes get glassy as he listens, looking at Steve, who’s quietly sipping his water and looking at the floor, his cheeks red like he’s embarrassed. And then Wayne is pulling him into another hug and kissing his forehead.
And he tells Steve that he’s home now. That he’s safe here. And then Steve is crying again, falling against Wayne as Eddie takes his glass and carefully sets it aside, smiling despite the tears.
Eddie and Steve stay in the living room when Wayne heads off to work after ruffling their hair and kissing their foreheads. It’s quiet when he’s gone, when they hear his car drive away. They’re sitting side by side, and the room is darker than it was when they got home because the sun’s set and nobody turned on the lights.
Eddie reaches for Steve’s hand. Their fingers lace. Steve squeezes.
He falls against Eddie after a moment, his head on Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie releases his hand to wrap his arm around his shoulders, pulling him close.
“My school stuff is at my parents’,” Steve says quietly, mumbling a little bit. He’s tired. Eddie can hear it in his voice, can feel it in how heavy he feels against Eddie.
“We’ll pick it up tomorrow,” Eddie says softly, running his fingers through Steve’s hair to pull it out of his face. “And we’ll get your hair stuff and clothes and everything. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not,” Steve breathes. “Just thinking.”
“...You wanna go to bed?”
“...Yeah.”
They go slowly, sleepily. Eddie brushes his teeth while Steve changes, and Steve brushes his teeth while Eddie changes. (He already has a toothbrush here, set in a cup with Eddie’s.)
He’s wearing Eddie’s boxers and a sweatshirt. He looks beautiful.
They climb into bed in the dark, seeing through touches and the sliver of moonlight, and before Eddie is even laying down, Steve is pulling him into a messy, sleepy kiss. It tastes like their mint toothpaste.
Eddie sucks on his lip, guiding Steve onto his back gently, listening to him sigh, feeling his hands dance down his spine. Eddie smiles against his mouth.
“I love you,” he whispers softly when he pulls away for a breath, and Steve hums, fingertips digging into his back.
Eddie tilts his head and kisses down his cheek and jaw before he buries his face in Steve’s neck. Steve tilts his head to give him room, sighing again.
“You want one?” Eddie asks quietly.
“Mhmm.”
Eddie smiles again, kissing his neck, and their legs entwine under the blanket as he bites down on Steve’s pulse. Steve whines weakly, pushing a hand under Eddie’s shirt to touch his skin. His hands are warm. They always are.
Right now, Steve’s fingers press into his skin as Eddie’s teeth press into his, and Eddie revels in the way his breaths come out sharper, the way he hums and swears, and when Eddie finishes, he kisses the spot softly, tenderly, before licking it to soothe it. Steve hums, wrapping his arms around Eddie tightly.
Eddie can’t see the bruise in the dark.
He’ll see it in the morning when he wakes up before him and looks down to gaze at him in the morning light, before Steve stirs and opens his arms to hug him.
The thought makes Eddie kiss him one more time, his lips landing somewhere on his cheek as they roll onto their sides slowly, and Steve hums, sighing sleepily. In the morning, Eddie will hold him, and then Wayne will come home as they’re drinking coffee. He’ll ruffle their hair and kiss their foreheads, and Steve will feel beautiful and loved, and he’ll know that he’s home.
Eddie can’t wait for the sun to rise.
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7ndipity · 1 year
Text
Dating Jungkook headcanons
Jungkook x Reader
Warnings: some swearing, a lil suggestive, I think that's it
A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon who requested this, I've never written a list like this before so it's a little scattered, sorry. Anyway I'm very soft for this man now, goodbye.
Masterlist
Requests are open
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
Dating Jungkook is, for lack of a better word, messy. But like in all the best ways.
Late night hangouts when y'all can't sleep and you just end up at the local convenience store, eating snacks or whatever and talking until you notice the sun coming up.
I know I wrote a lil blurb abt it already, but karaoke dates are a regular occurrence. Doesn't matter if you can sing or not, y'all are just having a good time seeing who can hit the highest note(it's him, sorry)
He's one of those people whose friends probably tease cause he says "my s/o is my best friend". But he actually means it, you are his best friend.(I really feel like he would fall for a friend, but that's a discussion for a ot7 reaction I'm working on for next week👀)
Acts really cocky sometimes, but will fold like a house of cards(ha) into the softest boi at the slightest provocation from you.
He's fucking whipped for you, and he knows it.
Was so nervous to kiss you the first time that he legit backed out like three times before it finally happened.
Probably has some kind of nickname for you like "my light" or "my life."
But on the other hand, y'all also tease each other relentlessly, it's like a second love language with him.
Like he will sit there while you're trying to read or smth and poke your cheeks until he gets a reaction out of you.
Will make height jokes, even if you're only like 1in shorter than him.
"Tiny baby." He coos while patting your head. "I'm gonna climb up there and kill you." You warn. "So tiny, so precious."
But if he catches anyone else giving you a hard time about something, God help them.
Possessive(*cough perilla leaf debate)
Gives you his sweatshirts to wear because you look cute in them, but also loves that it's a subtle sign to anybody else that you're his.
This goes both ways though, he loves when you call him yours.
The first time you called him "your boyfriend", he legit short-circuited for a second.
Would probably have matching, macrame type couple bracelets that y'all made together for your second or third month anniversary.
Protective AF
Does that thing where he makes sure you walk on the inner half of the sidewalk when are you're out together, so you're protected from the street?
Not big on Pda exactly, but usually has an arm around you or is holding your hand. He doesn't even realize he's doing it sometimes, it's just kinda become a habit to have you close as much as possible.
He gets so little time with you as it is, so he just wants to make every second count.
When it's just the two of you though, he becomes a fucking koala and will NOT let you go.
Clings to you like his life depends on it.
Begs you to stay over all the time, swears that he can't sleep well unless you're next to him.
At this point, you might as well move in, half of your shit's at his place already anyway.
Looks at you like you're a literal dream.
Like some mornings when neither of you are really awake yet, you look over and he's just staring at you over your coffee mug like🥺
Loves to make you flustered tho
Like, if he notices you have a thing for his arms, he's gonna take every chance he can to roll his sleeves up in front of you just to see your face go red.
Randomly walks up to and gives you these deep, intense kisses and then? just fucking walks away as if nothing happened? Like, nuh-uh, get your ass back here and finish what you started sir!
Talks about your future together with such casual certainty. Like "when we get married, we should get a house like that".
Refers to Bam as your child.
Idk where I'm going with this or how to end it, so I'm just gonna stop here, but yeah. I just think he's neat lol.
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bungalowbear · 3 months
Text
a winter morning with husband!nanami. not edited, though i feel it’s fitting for the setting of this piece hehe
cw: nudity, handjob in the shower, MDNI
wc: 1,515
The sun has yet to rise. The frigid air of a winter’s night lingers heavily in the bedroom. The thin crack between the curtains illuminates with the white light from the lamppost just below the apartment window.
Parallel to the window, pushed up against the wall, is the bed you and your husband share. Matching sheets with thin blue and white stripes for the duvet cover and pillowcases surround your entwined forms, havens to lay your heads and preserve the warmth your bodies accumulated overnight.
You lay with your head tucked into Nanami’s chest and an arm slung around his waist. His chin rests atop your head while his arms wrap around you and hold you close. Your breaths form in calm synchronization, the rising and falling of your chests the only movements detected so early in the morning.
That is, until the alarm sounds and you press your face into the crook of his neck with a groan. Nanami lets out a long sigh before removing an arm from around you and reaching behind to hit snooze. He settles on his back, making the covers drop slightly, and you fight the sudden chill by chasing his movements with your own. You grab the edge of the cover and pull it up, covering your entire head and up to your husband’s neck. You tuck yourself under his arm and cage his torso with your arms and slot your legs around his thigh. A groggy chuckle escapes his throat but you ignore it as you settle back into slumber to the rhythm of Nanami’s hand stroking soothing lines along your side.
Just as you’re slipping into another peaceful dream the screeching sound of the alarm brings you back to reality. You sigh, a deep and defeated sound, when Nanami silences the alarm clock. He pulls some of the cover down to uncover your eyes. His thumb brushes gently along the top of your right eyebrow.
It’s time to get up.
You tip your head up with barely open eyes. In the near complete darkness you can see his eyes are just as sleep ridden as yours. A pinch forms between your brows as you silently plead with him.
Five more minutes.
Fondness makes Nanami’s lips curve just the tiniest bit at the edge. However, your plea is in vain. Your husband is a diligent man and knows you well enough not to let your pretty face steer you both off track from your morning routine. At least not more than once, twice at most, per week. And yesterday’s near miss of the train cautions him to be firmly set in his resolve this morning.
Nanami sits up, hands rubbing along your shoulders. Your head rests on his firm thigh only a moment before he carefully slips out from beneath the covers and gets out of bed. You cocoon yourself once more but his hand finds the outline of your head and gives it two soft pats.
If you don’t join me soon, I’ll have to get started without you.
Your husband doesn’t wait for a response, and instead makes his way around the bed and toward the bathroom. You hear the light switch turn and then the twist of the knob before water begins to rain down from the shower head.
You count down a minute in your head, psyching yourself up to throw back the covers and brave the cold early morning air.
Three, two, one…
The warmth of your bed is invaded and you jump out, fighting the shiver that racks up your spine, and scurry into the bathroom. You shut the door behind you and slowly start to feel the steam from the shower warm your skin.
Nanami is already inside. Your eyes drop from his silhouette behind the curtain to the floor where his t-shirt, sweatpants, and underwear are piled on top of the clothes in the hamper. You remove your own pajamas, which is just a pair of sleep shorts and one of Nanami’s sweatshirts, and toss them on top of his discarded clothes and join your husband in the shower.
He’s rinsing out the shampoo out of his hair when you come up behind him and press the bare skin of your front against his back. Your arms wrap around his torso and you give a quick squeeze.
Good morning, Ken.
Nanami hangs his head as the last of the suds spill from the tips of his blonde hair. His hands come down to meet yours, fingers tracing a random pattern over the delicate skin of your wrist.
Good morning, darling.
You place a brief kiss between his shoulder blades before removing your arms and reaching for the body wash. Squeezing out a large dollop, you lather it up in your palms and begin to smooth your hands across the wide expanse of his shoulders. You work down his back and then start again at the top of his arms, fingers dipping along every curve of well defined muscle, until you finish at his hands.
When you arms reach around to the front, you feel him take in a deep breath. Your hands spread the soap along his chest. The heat of the water’s spray does nothing to keep his nipples from hardening when your thumbs carefully caress the sensitive nubs.
Your touch travels lower, down the hard planes of his abdominal muscles that clench beneath your fingertips. You relish in the way his breathing grows heavier the further down you wander.
First, you feel the hair at the base that’s starting to grow out of the neat trim your husband meticulously keeps. He’ll be grooming himself in the next day or two so you make a mental note to be sure that his trimmer is fully charged. Next, your right hand takes hold of the satisfying girth of your husband’s morning wood. Nanami releases a shuddering breath as you give one long stroke all the way up to his tip, where drops of cum leak out and fall onto the floor of the shower and swirl down the drain along with the soap and water. You take care to use tender circular motions when cleaning the sensitive glans as well as beneath the foreskin. Finally, your left hand travels lower to take hold of his testicles. The familiar weight of them is pleasant as you make sure you massage every inch of them with your soapy fingers.
Your hands work in tandem to complete their washing of your husband’s genitals until all of the suds have been rinsed away. But your touch remains as your pace speeds up and you take on a more rigorous rhythm.
Nanami groans as you pump him steadily, a sound you can barely hear over the running water. So you push your face into his back, widen your mouth, and bite down onto his skin just below his shoulder blade.
Louder. I want to hear you.
His large hand reaches back, gripping your hip tightly.
As you wish, my dear.
The hand around his cock quickens its pace and the fingers caressing his balls clench just a little bit tighter. You work him lovingly, expertly, as you’ve come to know him. Getting him to the peak of pleasure is the only goal on your mind, the only purpose your hands are given in this moment.
Nanami moans when your thumb strokes his tip at the same time you give his sack a gentle tug. The deep, rich sound echoes along the tile wall and it makes you ache between your legs. Your teeth sink into him deeper as you rub your thighs together and his moans only grow louder and louder the longer you work him over.
His body bends slightly at the waist when you feel him getting hotter the closer he gets to the end. His breath becomes shaky as his hips begin to rock into your fist. He braces a hand against the wall to steady himself when his sack tightens in your hold and his cock twitches when you give another firm stroke up his shaft.
A loud, satisfied groan leaves your husband as he goes rigid. With your thumb and pointer finger in a ring around his tip, you coax every last drop of Nanami’s spend out of him until he lets out one final sigh and takes the hand that holds his softening length and brings it to his lips to place a kiss to the back of it.
I love you.
Your teeth slowly withdraw from his back and you see the imprint you left behind. Your tongue traces along the small ridges of your making before you press your lips against them.
I love you, too.
Nanami turns and your hands fall to your sides. He leans forward and places a chaste kiss to your lips, when he pulls back you realize he now has the bottle of body wash in his hand. Your hand absently drifts to your wet folds as your husband looks at you with a smirk and a raised brow.
Your turn.
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