#police will try and prevent him from doing what he wants to do

[luveline]

Hi there! I hope your day’s been going well :)

Could you maybe write something with Spencer where Reader faints? Feel free to ignore this if you’re not up for it!!

thank u for ur request! fem!reader, 1.6k

"It's so hot," you say, startled. The lobby of the hotel had been blissfully air-conditioned. The difference hits you immediately. 

"Don't worry about blazers or professional attire," Hotch says, though he quickly amends, "within reason."

You take off your jacket and follow the herd of the BAU into the black SUVs. The SUVs are even hotter than the outdoors, blistering ovens of heat that have you feeling nauseous instantaneously. Spencer rubs your arm with the back of his hand swiftly —it's a friendly touch to say he's here, but it's quick to prevent any unnecessary added heat. 

It's August in Texas, 107 degrees Fahrenheit. Emily smells distinctly of sunscreen from the front passenger seat. Derek, behind the wheel, looks hot around the collar. Spencer looks as though he wishes he'd had a haircut before he came, chin length curls tucked tight behind his ears. 

Despite this, none of them complain beyond the general whine every now and then. You try very hard to shut up and focus on the case with them, but as the day goes on, bumping you from hot car to hot crime scene (with all inclusive smells of gore!), you feel wobbly on your feet. 

"Spence?" you ask, sitting in a hard-backed chair in the police precinct. 

"Yeah?" He doesn't look away from the geographical profile he's building. You're supposed to be helping, but your notes are half-hearted, likely useless. "What?" 

"Do you have any water?" 

He pushes a pin into the left of the map and grabs a ruler. "No, sorry. There's a staff room by the bullpen, the secretary said to help ourselves. Actually, she said to 'go ham.'"

"Okay. I'll be right back. And I'll be more helpful." 

"You're plenty helpful," he murmurs, leaning down to follow the line of his rules with a pencil. 

You don't feel helpful, you feel awful. Head heavy, eyes aching, every step sends a jolt through your teeth and jaw, your skull like a mashed potato. You know you're a poor sight with sweat wetting your hair and a crawling sensation between your legs and the fabric of your pants. 

Letting yourself into the staff room, you're unsurprised to find a bone dry water cooler and a crate of water bottles with only one remaining. Spencer needs a drink too, and he has a thing about germs. You frown at the water bottle as though that might duplicate it, but when it doesn't, you're forced to take it and put it under your arm. You look around for a mug to at least have some tap water no matter how ill-advised that may be. They're all dirtied in the sink and on tables. Fuck. 

Spencer is super, super lovely to you. You wonder sometimes if he might ask you out, or at least want to, but most of the time you're sure it's just a little extra friendliness because he knows how it feels to be the youngest on the team, how patronised or lonely it gets. And the weight of trying to prove yourself every mission, it's almost as heavy as your head. 

"Hey," Spencer says as you open the conference room door. "I think I've worked something out. Could you call Garcia for me? I've got dry-erase marker on my hands." 

"Got this for you," you say, offering him the bottle. He takes it without looking. 

"Thanks. Are you feeling any better? I know you can be sensitive to the heat." 

"Maybe we can get portable fans on the FBI budget next year," you say wistfully, pushing a chair in at the table. You lean on it to grab the phone in the middle of a sea of papers and cases and jackets, black spots popping up in your vision. "My head's rushing." 

"Hey, guys," Emily says, sounding strangely chipper as she and Hotch trudge in. Her hair is in a tight ponytail away from her face. 

You try to greet them and end up hanging your head. 

"Y/N," Spencer chokes, alarmed.

You slump forward over the chair, desperate to keep your footing and failing. Your shin knocks into the chair and your hands grasp at the top of it, but you can't hold yourself up any longer, knocking your face into the chair as you collapse. A cheap tent in a strong breeze, you fall with little more than a weak sigh. 

You're hurting a lot when you come to, blinking like your lashes have been brushed with glue. The lights have been turned off, and a blissful chill soaks your hairline. Someone presses a water bottle to your lips and lifts your head. You drink half the contents in three gulps and get laid down again with the utmost care. 

"She's coming around," Hotch says. 

Your neck aches propped over a leg. Two deft hands hold your head still. 

"Don't move too much," Spencer says, his voice odd. You blink as his face moves into view upside down. "An EMT is on the way, okay? You passed out." 

You can't find your voice. Spencer strokes your cheek with his thumb, says, "Hey, can you hear me? Let's hear your voice. Talk to me." 

"You don't sound like yourself," you say hoarsely, each word tenuous. You wince at the bruising heat that radiates from your nose with each word. 

"I'm worried about you," Spencer admits. "It makes it hard to stay objective." 

"No, you sound funny." 

"I'm worried," he repeats. His smile is strained. 

"She's okay," Hotch says. 

You realise Emily's got your hand in hers when she squeezes it. "Have you had anything to drink today?" she asks you, fondly incredulous. 

"No, she hasn't, and I didn't say anything about it. I'm an idiot. I'm so sorry, Y/N," Spencer says. 

"Y/N's responsible for her own preservation, Reid. And it's been a tough case, with the heat. Let's not blame anyone for anything." You press your chin to your chest to see Hotch's anxious frown. "We will be having a discussion about this later." 

You turn your face into Spencer's thigh. "Oh." 

"Don't close your eyes," Hotch says. He employs a firm, boss-like tone that has you rushing to follow orders. "You hit your head." 

"I don't feel well," you complain, wanting to close your eyes.

"Considering your behaviour," Spencer says, one of his hands trailing down your face, neck, and collar, where he rests it genially, "you likely have a mild to moderate concussion. And you're dehydrated, so you'll be feeling the effects more severely."

"Why haven't you been drinking?" Emily asks. 

"I just…" You blink sluggishly. "I don't know… We don't take anything that isn't coffee with us places and…" You lean your cheek into Spencer's hand, not quite connecting that it's his hand, or that you're laying on the precinct floor. "They only had one bottle in the staff room." 

"Why didn't you drink it?" Spencer asks softly. 

"I knew you hadn't had anything to drink, either." 

"We could've shared," he says, sounding genuinely confused. 

"You don't like sharing stuff like that. Germs." 

Spencer's voice is barely above a whisper, "I wouldn't care about your germs, Y/N. They're your germs." 

You don't have time to ask him what he means, but you've ample time to think about it on loop when the EMT arrives. He props you up, checking you over thoroughly, shining a light in your eyes and deeming you concussed.

"You don't have to see a doctor," the EMT advises. "But we're happy to take you to the hospital if that's what you want." 

"Yes," Spencer says, as you say, "No." 

Spencer puts a hand on your shoulder blade. It is an extremely forward move on his part, so unlike him that you recognise how odd it is despite your foggy mind. "She should go." 

"She fainted, Spencer," Emily says. 

"Exactly! So she should go to the hospital and–"

"I didn't break anything," you say, waving a shaky hand at the small but concerned crowd of people you've attracted. 

"Luckily," the EMT says. "Drink plenty of water and take it easy. Don't be afraid to call again if you feel worse." 

Hotch walks the EMT out, needing to take a phone call. Emily goes with him, promising to return with a dry shirt for you to wear now that yours has been soaked at the collar by the water they'd been cooling you down with while you were unconscious. 

Spencer settles practically knee to knee with you in two of the uncomfortable chairs, his assessing gaze frankly perturbing. 

"You'd share germs with me?" you ask. 

Spencer's hand leaps across the gap to yours where it rests on your knee. His eyes, brown and sweet, have all the light of a blinding smile as his lips quirk into something more sheepish. "If it stopped you from fainting, yeah. And even if it didn't, I'd be stupid to care about germs when I…" 

You breathe out slowly. "When you what?" 

"Well," he says, looking down at your hands. "I guess I just wouldn't mind your germs, that's all." 

If he's saying what you think he's saying, he's doing it in the most Spencer Reid way possible. Concussed, your charisma fails you. You've no wit to tease him with. 

You fold your hand around his. "Thanks for catching me," you say gently. 

He squeezes your fingers clumsily. "You're welcome. But it was actually mostly Emily." 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[shadesoflsk]

LOVE YOU, SANTA!

pairing: re2 leon kennedy x fem reader.

summary: You were feeling a little bit depressed since this was your first Christmas away from your family. Thank God your best friend was there to comfort you.

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, smut, best friend Leon, p in v, soft sex, unprotected sex, (don't be like them) praise words, both Leon and reader are quite inexperienced, confessions, two dorks in love, Leon dresses up as santa, just Leon being silly.

word count: 6.2k

minors do not interact, please.

You weren’t feeling the Christmas season.

You’ve always been family orientated. Christmas for you was the perfect excuse to connect with long lost relatives and of course spend quality time with your loved ones. Video calls and interminably lengthy texts didn’t fulfill your desire to be surrounded with your family.

The Christmas lights illuminated your features as you stared at your own tree with teary eyes. Alone, in your living room, you thought about the amazing time you would be having if luck was on your side.

Weeks prior, you had bought a plane ticket ready to fly and visit your family. You had already prepared everything. Gifts? Checked. Souvenirs? Checked. Tons of stories about your university life? Double checked.

But you couldn’t have prevented the fact that your flight would get canceled at last minute. You were offered another one, airline policies or something among those lines. It was an understatement to say that you were mad, angry, and frustrated. It won’t be the same if you travel two days after Christmas. The holiday would be already over.

So, you did what anyone with rational thoughts would do. Drown yourself in sadness as you sank deeper into the couch. Your eyes traveled from your Christmas tree to your TV which was playing The Grinch, very fitting. 

You checked your cell phone, and you were welcomed with countless pictures. Most of them were very family appropriate. “Far apart during this Holiday, but totally together in our hearts and minds. Merry Christmas!” Ok, your grandma had no need to remind you you were miles away. But you replied with a short phrase as well.

A sigh left your lips as you set aside your phone, trying to focus on the movie. You watched as the Grinch ripped the tablecloth off the table and none of the items fell from it. You once heard that Jim Carrey defied the laws of physics as the dishes and plates were supposed to fly off. Funny, you thought.

Your phone suddenly buzzed. With an annoying grunt you expected another call from a relative saying how much they were missing you. Yes, it fulfilled your heart knowing that you were expected at home, a family to come back to whenever life gets too rough. But right now, as much as you needed a hug, you didn’t want a reminder of your own solitude.

You grabbed your phone and saw the caller id. “Leon?” you murmured as you picked up the call. 

Leon was your best friend, or at least you wanted to say that. You appreciate him as a friend since he is the sweetest guy ever. A gentleman through and through, holding the doors open for you, helping you with your housework whenever you needed and giving you a shoulder to cry on when life was too hard.

He was the epitome of being a best friend, right? However, the way your mind seems to wander to other places when he was close to you made you feel guilty. You thought he only saw you as a friend, nothing more yet you couldn't control your own mind and imagine him in more intimate settings.

Whenever he talks about his training at the Police Academy, how he tells you about every little thing that had happened to him back at the supermarket. Simple things like that make your heart do laps. The way his lips move and how his tongue would stick out from time to time led your brain to create the most romantic scenarios.

How would it be to kiss him? To feel his lips locked with yours in a heated but meaningful exchange of love? Dear God how you wanted that and at the same time you wanted to slap yourself. 

Guilt ran deep down in your system when you thought of him like that. Your friendship with him mattered more than anything but the heart wants what it wants, as dramatic as it sounded.

You responded, bringing your phone to your ear.

“Hey Leon.” Nonchalantly as always, you didn't expect Leon to call you, especially when you knew he didn't exactly celebrate this holiday. He has a family, he was just not as close as you're with yours. 

“Hi, how are you?” Now that's weird, the conversation seemed so uptight, too rigid. Not like every other call you have with him. His voice tone also changed, curiosity filled your mind as you tried to search the meaning behind his call.

“I'll be honest… not too well. You know I was supposed to fly a few days ago? Well, my flight was canceled so here I am.” You explained to Leon the time-line of disasters you have faced. 

“Yeah, Rebecca told me.” So that's why he called! Word has traveled until it reached Leon's ears and as attentive and sweet as he is, he couldn’t stay still and let his friend be alone on a day like this.

“So… are you at home right now?” Leon continued speaking, you could sense he was smiling at the moment, as he stretched that so. You know him too well to know that he's planning something.

“Yup… It's just me and The Grinch.” You laughed at your own statement and your eyes instinctively roamed over the TV that kept playing the movie.

“Am I allowed to be the third wheel?” He joked, you were used to his funny side or at least he tells you it's funny. You really did find him hilarious, but it was even funnier to pretend his jokes didn't phase you. 

“I don’t know… Don’t you have plans for tonight?” You asked, playing mindlessly with a strand of hair that has fallen to your shoulder. You have been friends with Leon for years, and you knew for a fact that he usually spends most of his christmases in solitude. Always telling you that everything is alright. Sometimes, you wanted to invite Leon over to your family dinner. But you always imagined the endless teasing your poor friend would be a victim of. “Is that your boyfriend?” “Oh what a handsome gentleman!” So, you never asked him out.

“Not really…” Leon admitted, his voice slightly lowered as if ashamed to accept that he had no plans nor family to visit on an important day like this. “But I could have a Christmas date if you accept. You wouldn’t like your best friend spending Christmas Eve alone, wouldn’t you?” You could almost hear him laughing after saying that. What a little bitch he could be sometimes. But you love him nonetheless.

“Ok ok. Don’t sound so coy. It doesn’t suit you.” Both of you laughed. It was indeed nice hearing his voice on this lonely night. But the fact that he was eager to make it better made your heart flutter. He told you he would be there in about twenty minutes. So you were left alone once again.

After hanging up, you stared blankly at the TV for about fifteen minutes. Your eyes were not really focused on the movie anymore. You allow your mind to give into its desires, you don’t know what this night has in store for you, but you expect something more than simple hugs and cuddles. You were dying to feel him way closer than that and stop debating if you should break those walls of simple friendship or not.

The loud banging on your door made you yelp. You drop your phone on the couch as you quickly approach the front door. 

“Ok I got it! You can stop knocking!” You shouted as your hand met with the cold sensation of the doorknob. You were expecting to see Leon in his usual type of clothing. A pair of jeans with a basic blue t-shirt. But your eyes weren’t prepared for what you were about to see.

“What the fuck…” You muttered as soon as you opened the door. Your arm fell to your side as you watched Leon with a dumbfounded look on your face. Your mouth hung wide open as a nervous but amused chuckle left your lips.

There was Leon, dressed from head to toe with a classical Santa costume. He was wearing black boots, red fluffy pants, a red plush coat and even a white beard. The only thing he was missing was a white haired wig yet his blonde hair made up for that. 

“Ho ho ho?” Leon sheepishly whispered, bringing a hand to his hair. You couldn’t see it but you knew he was turning bright red under that white beard of his. His baby blue eyes meet yours as you try your best to hold back your laugh. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other as he waits for you to say something.

“Look, can I come in? Someone else might see me. One of your neighbors already did and…” Leon stumbled on his words. He foolishly thought that the trip from his car to your front door would be uninterrupted yet luck wasn’t on his side when your neighbor — an old ‘sweet’ lady — thought he was breaking in. That led to an argument of five minutes where Leon had to explain that he wasn’t a robber… What kind of robber would dress up as santa? He had sarcastically said. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that since it made the granny way angrier. 

“Y–Yeah sure.” You shook your head as your words trailed off. You can't make up your mind on this ridiculous situation. The more you look at Leon the more… grateful you get. You can no longer laugh at his attempt to cheer you up since it was no longer an attempt — he succeeded. As you stepped aside and made some room for Leon to enter, your eyes traveled over his figure, it was a really silly outfit indeed.

You gave him no time to react as you threw your arms around his neck. Indulging in the warmth that his embrace –and fluffy outfit– provided. Even though your heart was beating so hard that it could basically break through your skin – you tried not to pay attention to that fact since you really needed that hug.

“Thank you…” You murmured against his neck, your nose ever so slightly tickling his skin. This was more than friends do. No friend would basically drown themselves in their friend's natural scent.

“It's okay. Just… let me take care of you.” And no friend would let his hands wander over his friend’s body. A pat on the back was everything he needed to do. There was no need for him to allow his curious hands to caress the sides of your waist and lower back. 

The hug lasts longer than a friendly hug should but neither of you seemed to care right now. You kicked the door and closed it with your foot as Leon moved the both of you to the couch. Not even attempting to untangle himself from your arms.

Eventually, he breaks the hug as he makes you sit down on the couch. His eyes linger on yours for a few seconds before pressing a quick but sweet kiss on your forehead. Yeah, totally what friends do, right?

“I'm gonna make us some hot chocolate and then watch some movies, ok?” He didn't even let you reply before he basically teleported to your kitchen as if it was his own. 

It's not difficult to let him do his thing. Ever since you met him, he's always been like this. Like a puppy who is eager to please its owner. But you weren't an owner. Hell, you sometimes thought that it was the other way around. The dynamics in your friendship were not clear, and both of you have gotten lost in those blurry lines of pleasing and being pleased. It was as if you two were trying your hardest to do your best in front of the other. Too scared to make a mistake, too scared to let their walls crumble and show their most inner desires and wishes.

After a few minutes, he comes back with a wide smile on his face and two mugs on his hands. If he had a tail, it would be wagging right now. Yours too. Puppy love at its finest.

He hands you your mug before placing his on the coffee table. You laugh as he takes off his white beard and instinctively scratches his jaw.

After a while of watching those poorly-made Christmas movies where the city girl spends her Christmas in her old hometown and meets the love of her life, both of you found comfort in cuddling each other. You place your head on his shoulder. That gave Leon the opportunity to lay his on top of yours.

“Where did you get that costume from?” you casually asked, your eyes not moving from the tv. You were comfortable enough to drift off to sleep but there was no way you were falling asleep right now.

“You know how I sometimes have to do the things most of my colleagues don't want to do? Yeah…” Leon chuckled shyly. You didn't know the extent of his words but you could imagine the situation. Him losing a bet, him having to go somewhere dressed up as Santa. Leon's luck can be the worst from time to time.

“So… you decided that it would be an amazing idea to show up at my house dressed up as fucking Santa Claus?” Your voice was filled with light teasing, but the way your eyes shone even if they weren't looking at Leon, told him everything he needed to know. You were thankful that Leon could be next to you right now. And deep down, Leon was feeling all sorts of emotions because at last, he could spend this holiday with you from all people. 

“Yeah. Liked the idea? I think these Santa pants fit me a little too well.” Leon laughed at his own joke. You laughed too, and the vibrations of your giggles brushed against Leon's neck, sending shivers down his spine.

As you laid your head on Leon's shoulder, his eyes meet with yours. If looks could speak, he would have already told you how much he desired to have you now. Even if it meant throwing away years of friendship and trust you have built. 

Maybe it wasn't wrong. Maybe both of you were meant to indulge in that desire and be blinded by it. No more secrets, no more shy glances and especially no more lies about your feelings. 

Your eyes were half lidded, your heart was beating so fast you thought you were dying and every good and bad outcome played on your mind as your lips slightly parted. Hoping that Leon would welcome you as you wanted him to.

And dear God he wanted to do just that. When his eyes locked with yours, he was sent to heaven and back. Yeah, you have laid your head on his shoulders countless times. But now, it seems different. As if he could tell that you had made up your mind about this and no one could stop you.

And he will definitely not stop you.

The sounds of the tv that were filling the living room now served as white noise. The beating of your own heart was the only thing you could truly focus on besides Leon's lips, which were getting dangerously close to yours.

“Can I?” A simple yet important question. It carried years of yearning and pining. Of course he can. What a stupid question to ask. But deep down, you're once again grateful that consent was the first thing that came to his mind even when it was just a kiss. You have won the lottery with this guy.

“Please…” Your voice came out a whimper rather than a simple whisper. But at this point you truly don't care. The world might end but right now you were at the top of it.

And he finally indulges.

His lips met yours in a slow and tender kiss. It hurt, but not in a bad way – your chest ached with longing. It felt so soothing and rewarding that both of you couldn't help but relax in it. As if a weight was removed from your backs, and now you were drowning in your most intimate thoughts.

Your muscles tensed as Leon pulled you even closer. His toned arm wrapping around your middle section. The need to feel you pressed against him was insatiable, especially when he was still so afraid of messing this up. You let him, you let his lips guide yours in a now messier kiss.

You felt his tongue poking against your bottom lip, as if asking permission to kiss you deeper, rawer. You once again allow him to. Whatever he wants right now, you want it too.

Now, the wet sounds from your sloppy kiss were like background music for both of you. Your hands found their home in Leon's hair as they tangled in his fluffy blonde locks. You hear him slightly moan in the middle of the kiss, too nervous to go further but too turned on to stop. 

His hand trembled as it traveled from your waist, to your hips and finally they have found their destination on the flesh of your rear. Unsure, he caressed the area before he squeezed it. Immediately regretting it once he heard you yelp.

“Sorry sorry sorry I don't know what came into me I jus–”

“Leon.”

“If you want me to leave I c–”

“Leon, I want it too.”

And that was a surprise for Leon. It didn't matter that he basically had his tongue down your throat a few seconds ago. The fact that you wanted to go further with him was something he couldn't have imagined. 

Your hand goes to his cheek, your thumb grazing over his skin as you noticed the rosy color forming in his face. The best sight you have ever seen. Especially how his eyes were glassy with pure love and raw desire.

“Are you sure?” Leon asked, a hint of shyness could be perceived in his eyes. 

You nodded, giving him a comforting smile. You hoped that it could convey how sure you were about this. If it wasn’t enough, you will surely know how to convince him that this was everything you have ever wished for.

You leaned closer once again and kissed him, this time it was even slower than the first kiss but not less intimate. You were careful not to startle him since it was obvious he was too sensitive and shy for his own good.

You delicately moved from his lips to his jaw, planting kisses along his jawline. You could hear how his breath was starting to get heavier and how his hands clenched the blankets instead of your body.

“You can touch me.” You assure Leon between kisses, your lips were now on his neck gently kissing each one of his moles. 

“I−Okay…” He decides that he should stop being so reserved. The person that he has been in love with is basically presenting herself on a platter, just for him. He will be damned if he doesn’t take this opportunity. “Tell me if it’s too much.” Ever so gentleman, he was still so cautious of not making you uncomfortable, it was too cute.

His hands go immediately to your breasts as if he had already thought where he wanted to touch. He cupped them gently. caressing them over your thin piece of clothing. It was now his turn of kissing you. As his hand played with your sensitive skin, his flushed lips returned to yours, his tongue welcoming itself in your mouth. 

“I have dreamed about this… you know.” Leon whispered before kissing you again. Neither of you were giving each other enough time to breathe. Too needy to be kissed, touched, and desired again. “Felt so… guilty each time I imagined myself touching you like this.” Leon’s hand snaked under your shirt and his calloused fingers found your nipples. 

Arousal started to pool underneath you as you let out a whimper. His cold fingertips brought you so much pleasure that most of your words died in your throat. Nothing else was needed to say, your body will speak for yourself.

His hand stopped playing with your breast as it moved down to your thighs. He muffled any other sound you could make as his lips shut you up once again. It was like he desperately longed for something to keep his mouth busy. You could feel that he was still unsure of how to approach this new experience with you, yet this didn’t stop him from trying to do his best.

The tip of his fingers grazed over your skin until they reached their destination.

Your sweatpants did a poor job at hiding your soaked mess. You instinctively lifted your hips as his hand teased over your clothed lower part. 

“Fuck− Can… Can I?” You already know what he’s asking for and you waste no time, you nodded eagerly. It was pathetic how some simple touches could bring you over the edge but years of pent up feelings were the culprit of this situation. 

As he saw you nodding, his hand traveled underneath your sweatpants and underwear before he decided that it would be better if he took them off. In the blink of an eye, your outfit was disregarded. Besides from your thin shirt that still covered your chest, you were fully exposed to Leon, who had a hungrily look on his face. His fingers once more traveled down and  were instantly covered in slick as you pressed your back against his chest, feeling the fluffy coat warming you.

He was still wearing that damn costume.

You made a mental note to tell him to take it off later, But for now, you were focused on how Leon’s finger brushed against your clit. His middle finger slowly followed circular motions as you moaned against his neck. It feels so much better than your own − not because he was the most expert in the area − but because it was him. Nobody else was in your mind at that moment.

His finger rubbed your throbbing bundle of nerves one last time before they moved to your entrance. You unconsciously parted your legs even wider, throwing your head back. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable place, but for now it will do.

He positioned his finger at your entrance. Over your shoulder, you glanced at Leon who was already looking at you. As if he could read your mind, he leaned closer and locked his lips with yours, intertwining in a tender kiss despite the lustful actions that were taking place. 

He slowly inserted one finger, feeling your walls clenching around it. You panted in the middle of the kiss, his deft finger curled inside you as he slowly moved it, in and out at a perfect pace. You grip on the couch, soft whimpers left your lips as Leon tries to find your most sensitive spot. 

“My beautiful pretty girl.” Leon whispered against your ear, the words of praise slipping so easily out of his lips. He was no stranger to complimenting you, as you already knew he was an old fashioned boy, always so respectful and so cautious. And tonight, he wouldn't falter on his behavior, even if his actions were not so gentlemanly.

Although he was playing the role of a gentle lover, he was freaking out inside. He didn't know what to do next. Should he go slower? Faster? Should he keep talking? For now, he decided to add another finger.

Squelching sounds filled your dark living room, making you aware of how wet you were. Leon was eager to please you, maybe that’s why he quickly realized how your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he moved his fingers in a certain way. He keeps up that pace, shamelessly plunging his fingers even deeper.

“Fuck, you’re gripping me.” Now that’s new. If you weren’t literally drunk in desire you would be taken aback by the sudden phrase Leon has just said. 

“Leon…” Your voice came out as a desperate plea, your hips bucking against his fingers who kept pumping into your hole. Leon was in heaven, he has seen many of your expressions. Joyful because you got the job you were looking for, gloomy because you couldn’t pass one of your exams or angry at yourself when you couldn’t complete something. He has seen them all, or so he thought. But he has unlocked one more, which was definitely his favorite now. 

Your dazzled expression made his cock twitch in his pants. He had forgotten about himself and his own pleasure as he was too focused on yours. Yet he couldn’t deny the ache he was feeling and how he had already made a mess in his underwear.

“What is it?” There was a certain tone in his voice that you were foreign to. It was as if he had found a glimpse of confidence in himself that allowed him to act a bit bolder. However, his soft and gentle nature still remained. He slowed down his movements, which was even worse because he was dragging your climax in that way. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to feel you.” 

As soon as those words left your lips, Leon knew what he had to do. He removed his fingers from you, a loud whine escaped your lips yet he wasted no time to grab you and carry you bridal style.

He walked towards your room. With his hip, he opened up the door that led to your sacred place where Leon has been countless times but now his objective is different than simple cuddling or sleeping.

He gently placed you on the middle of the bed as you waited for him. You felt a little exposed now that you were fully aware of what was going to happen. You unconsciously closed your legs, your thighs pressed against each other trying to hide the leaking mess that Leon's fingers have left.

He crawls towards you, one hand moving between your thighs to open them once again. For now, he only remains on top of you, watching you attentively for any signs of doubts.

He sees none.

For a moment, you lock eyes. His dilated pupils watching yours in a welcoming silence. Eventually, both of you couldn't hold back your laughter and it came down as a waterfall. He nuzzles his face against your neck while he continues chuckling.

You stop for a moment, trying to catch your breath as your laugh slowly dies down. Leon lifts his head, your thumbs wipe away the tears that had formed in the corner of his eyes.

“What are we laughing at?” You chuckled once again seeing how red Leon was. It should be awkward, embarrassing even. But your fears were long forgotten the moment he first touched you. Taking this step with him wouldn't mean breaking your friendship with him but rather start something even more beautiful.

“I feel like we're laughing at different things.” You continued, your hand then went to his face, brushing away the curtain of hair that fell on top of his forehead.

“Well… I'm laughing out of nervousness. I didn't expect to be in this position with… you.” Leon sheepishly said as he leaned closer to your touch. His warm face seeking your hand. “I won't lie though. I like being on top.”

His confession makes you laugh, wondering if he knew how deep your feelings also go. 

“And… I'm laughing because you still haven't taken off your Santa costume.”

Leon's head lowered to see that he in fact hasn't thrown off that not so sexy santa costume. He shakes his head before pressing a kiss to your nose.

“Maybe you have been naughty this year and Santa had to come all the way from the North Pole to see it for himself.” He laughed at his own joke, before he sat on his thighs and took off the coat.

“Oh fuck you Leon. Can we at least have this moment for ourselves?” You chuckled nonetheless. Your eyes fixated on his broad chest. You have seen it before, but admiring it in the dim light while he was on top of you, ready to take you, surely changed everything.

“Yes ma'am.” He grinned at you, before lowering himself and kissing you. Your parted legs gave him enough space to settle between your thighs. His lips were as soft as ever and now you were worried you wouldn't like to kiss anyone else but him. 

Between the kiss, you reached for the buttons of your shirt. Undoing one by one before leaving you completely exposed to him. Before you could even start to feel self conscious, Leon's cold hand reached for one of your breasts, gently brushing against your nipple.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your chest, before lapping his tongue against your nipple. His lips circled around it as your back arched into his touch. 

“Leon –fuck– please…” You moaned, your body slightly shaking from the sensation Leon's tongue brought you. You couldn’t wait to have him inside of you.

“Mhm?” He murmured as he continued sucking your sensitive spot, the vibrations making you even more sensitive to the touch. His blue eyes meet yours as he looks up to see you. 

“Want you inside.” you whined, looking at him with half lidded eyes.

“Whatever my princess wants.” Leon replied, placing one last kiss on your nipple.

He sat on the bed and quickly took off his pants with his underwear, throwing them somewhere around your room. He quickly returned to his position.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes dart towards his already hard dick. The angry and reddish tip was the first thing you noticed, making your mouth water at the sight. 

Leon forgot for a moment that he was supposed to be dominant in this moment, his rosy cheeks being painfully obvious to you. He internally reassured himself and ignored his own shyness, connecting his lips with yours in a sweet manner. His breath slightly shaking.

He reached down and positions the tip of his dick near your clit, collecting the slippery slick that was flooding your folds.

“Tell me if it hurts or if you want me to stop.” He said with a warm smile, making sure to see you nodding. Once he had your approval, he pushed himself right into you. The room instantly filled with sinful heavy breaths as both of you got what you always wanted. He gasped against your mouth before he captures your lips in a messy kiss.

You hissed from the sensation of his dick stretching you out. Your arms wrapped around his neck to bring him even closer to you, the need to feel him near you was overwhelming, especially when he was literally deep into you.

He let his head fall against your forehead, following how your arms guided him closer. You can see a faint smile forming on his lips as he bottoms out. In that expression, you see years of yearning and well kept secrets. 

For a moment, he stays still. Letting you adjust to his size with his left hand tracing patterns on your hips. 

“Are you okay?” Leon asked breathlessly, his eyes were glassy with undivided desire as they bore into yours.  He’s patient, caring and loving, he has wished to feel you like for so long, he wouldn’t mess up this moment. 

“You're not going to break me.” You laugh, but the way you scrunch your nose told him otherwise. 

Leon chuckled and started thrusting, trying to be as deep and slow as he could. Your gummy walls gripped his cock just right and he may as well cum on the spot if you continue doing so. He wouldn’t dare to do that, he wanted this to last. Just so you could remember how he fits you perfectly, like the missing piece to a puzzle.

“I– Am I doing okay?” Leon whimpered against your lips, his sticky forehead still connected with yours. His eyes flutter shut, the sensation being too much for him. He can’t help but ask, no matter the situation he’s always a bit bashful. 

You nodded, already wanting more.

His other arm decided to snake around your waist, lifting your hips up and bucking even deeper into you. The new angle allowed him to slide in and out with a faster pace now. The wet sounds were music to your ears, which you'd never grow tired of hearing.

You feel him everywhere. Inside you, in your stomach as butterflies. In your mind as his pornographic moans imprint on your thoughts. You wrap your legs around his waist, providing him even more space to deeply sink inside of you. The curve of his length hitting your g-spot just right. As if he was made for this, as if you were especially crafted for him.

With every thrust, sweet words leave his lips. “You're so beautiful.” “Prettiest girl in the entire world.” Words of praise being sung like a chant, like a mantra he wanted to scream until it engraved in your mind as tattoos that would never fade.

You could feel your climax coming. The heat pooling in your abdomen was proof that you won't last longer.

And you knew Leon wouldn't either.

His hips were starting to miss their already set rhythm. His breath got heavier, and his eyes rolled back. His toned arms held you even closer if that was humanly possible.

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you feel Leon's cock twitching inside of you. 

“Fuck–I.” His voice was dripping with desire as he felt your velvety walls squeezing him once again. The grip on your waist got tighter as his grunts grew higher. He watches your body writhing underneath him, how you shut your eyes down when you cum all over his cock. And he could die as a happy man knowing that he made you feel like this.

Eventually, the sway of his hips came to a stop as he also felt himself reaching the so awaited high he was looking for. He’s too gone to even care about anything else when he spurts deep inside of you, white and thick load filling your aching cunt.

Both of you are breathless and sticky, Leon nuzzled his face against your neck and left a trail of pecks on your skin. His arms didn’t leave your body. His weight on top of you coated you with a comfortable and soothing warmth. He pressed his lips against your cheek as he pulled out of you with a faint grunt. And for a few minutes, nothing is said. Neither of you wanted to break the silence that was embracing your souls. 

“You ok?” He finally asked in a hushed voice, his lips never leaving your skin as he pampered you with soft caresses around your face. 

“Mhm…” You nodded, your eyes slightly closed as you took in what had happened. 

“I swear I didn’t expect this to happen. I mean, I wanted to take you on a date first, but –” Leon let out a short laugh, stopping himself from rambling. “But maybe we can have a little date tomorrow? You know… Our first Christmas together.”

His words lingered in the air, he waited for you to reply to his obvious confession. He didn’t want this to end as a mistake or a one night thing. He wanted to court you properly and show you that he could also be the best boyfriend ever. 

“Sure. That sounds amazing.” 

The voices of your relatives fill your old home as everyone kept unwrapping their Christmas gifts. Leon was at your side, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. He admired the sight, one he wasn't used to. 

Familial love.

He’s powerless at the teasing words of your family, he takes pride in being independent, but right he can’t help but cling to your arm when your grandmother pulls his cheek as if he was a toddler.

“What a sweet boy you are, Leon. See, I have some gifts for you!” Your grandmother gently but determined grabs your boyfriend’s arm, forcing him to follow her where a vast choice of boxes were displayed. He gives you a look that could be translated into Help me, please. I won’t be able to carry so many gifts.

You shook your head with a chuckle. When your grandma had an idea, nobody could stop her.

You sat on the couch, witnessing how your grandmother pulled out a scarf from one box. She wasted no time wrapping it around Leon's neck. You knew that he was feeling awkward and timid, true to his nature. But there was a glint in his eyes that told you he was really thankful, especially with the way his eyes seemed to soften once your grandma gave him a joyful smile.

“How long have you been together?” A cousin of yours, a few years younger, asked you. Her eyes darted from Leon and then back to you.

“A year.” You smiled softly, your eyes reflecting how proud you were as you said those words. “Exactly one year.”

author's note: please this took me SO LONG I'll never write smut ever again TT anyway re2 leon makes me go all soft please give this man an award for being the best guy.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #resident evil #FUCK IM SO HFHGDGF im so ashamed #i hate this so much #im just so sappy and..........

[ms-demeanor]

i’m curious what your opinion is on the finer points of the case mentioned in the JSTOR post you reblogged earlier. the two sources in the post say that JSTOR didn’t press charges against him and had already settled with him by the time he killed himself. from what i read on wikipedia, the concern seems to be that JSTOR complied with a subpoena, which i don’t believe they have a choice to ignore? if anything it seems like the us government had reason to want him dead for wikileaks and public court records reasons, so they took a terms of use violation and blew it up into a dozen federal crimes.

is there more context i should be aware of? i have no particular affection or malice for JSTOR but the sources i found don’t exactly implicate the database or its employees in murder.

That's from page 175 of this document. This line: "The activity noted is outright theft and may merit a call with university counsel, and even the local police, to ensure not only that the activity has stopped but that - e.g. the visiting scholar who left - isn't leaving with a hard drive containing our database" is where I think the culpability starts.

If someone is downloading 1000s of articles (what seems like reasonable threshold for us to take action), what's wrong with us - or the university in collaboration with us - alerting the cyber-crimes division of law enforcement and initiating an investigation, having cop search dorm room and try to retrieve any hard drive that contains our content, etc. Our content is extraordinarily valuable and hard to replicate by the sweat of one's brow, but can be duplicated by savvy hackers and who knows what they want to do with the content?

Page 379: "Does the university contact law enforcement? Would they be willing to do so in this instance?

From page 1296:

I think the important thing to note here is that JSTOR had worked with MIT and had plans in place to prevent future similar downloads, but remained focused on identifying the person responsible for the downloads and ensuring that their data was deleted.

"I might just be irked because I am up dealing with this person on a Sunday night, but I am starting to feel like they need to get a hold of this situation right away or we need to offer to send them some help (read FBI).

And there it is. Page 3093 of the document.

JSTOR can hem and haw about it all they want, but you can't un-call the cops.

MIT was working with JSTOR on preventing future incidents of pirating, but JSTOR repeatedly said that they weren't going to let it go, that it was unacceptable to drop the issue, that they were going to continue to pursue the pirate.

You can scroll through the document and see the JSTOR tech department and abuse team talking about Swartz as a script kiddie, and a hacker. You can see someone talking about how this was real theft - making the comparison to stealing books even while admitting that piracy doesn't close others out of access.

You can see the thread starts with a joke about punching someone in the face for hacking their system, and includes the tech team ominously considering whether they should threaten the MIT librarians with the FBI.

There's something really important to note here which I don't think that people who aren't PRETTY DEEP into hackery shit aren't aware of: US law enforcement is absolutely rabidly feral about prosecuting hackers. People may be more aware of this now because of Chelsea Manning and Edward Snowden (and perhaps a bit on tumblr because of maia arson crimew), but people who work in tech and who are in infosec - like the people joking about calling the FBI in these emails - would be aware of the bonkers disproportionate punishments faced by hackers. And knowing that, they kept pushing and pushing and pushing for identification of the hacker. They kept digging with MIT, they kept saying that simply preventing future incidents wasn't enough.

Early in the exchange someone from JSTOR asked "what's wrong with us - or the university in collaboration with us - alerting the cyber-crimes division of law enforcement and initiating an investigation, having cop search dorm room and try to retrieve any hard drive that contains our content, etc." and the answer is what happened to Aaron Swartz.

It is absolute bullshit for JSTOR to say "we arrived at a solution privately and didn't want to press charges" after law enforcement has gotten involved with a hacking case, especially one where they're talking about "real theft" and are attempting to quantify and emphasize the amount that was "stolen" from them.

The *public* may believe that private individuals or institutions are the ones who "press charges" but that's simply not the case. It's prosecutors who decide whether or not to go ahead with charges; they do it based on what cases they think they can win and what their office's perspective is on the crime. When you hear about people choosing to press charges it simply means that they decided to tell the prosecutor they wanted the case to go forward. It's up to the prosecutor whether or not that happens.

And the tech team at JSTOR had to know that law enforcement wasn't just going to wag a finger at an academic hacker.

There's a parallel here that happens sometimes when people have their identities stolen by their parents. If you mom takes out a credit card in your name, that's identity theft. That's fraud. That's illegal. If you reach the age of 25 and realize that your credit is ruined because your mom has been defaulting on cards in your name, you've got two choices to fix that: one is to accept the debt and pay it off and build up credit, and the other is to report the identity theft - which will end up with your mom in prison for a decade or so. Ruin your own personal finances, or your mom goes to jail for ruining your finances. So if you find out that your mom stole your identity you can't just call the cops to pressure her into transferring the debt to her name or something. That's not an option. The cops are not a threat to wave over people, they are not a way to get people to fall in line or act right. They aren't someone you can send to a college student's dorm room to retrieve a hard drive and have the matter drop.

When you call the cops on someone you are sending the full force of the law after them, and the full force of the law falls really heavily on hackers, and how heavy that blow can be is something that the JSTOR team must have been aware of when they were making snide comments about calling the FBI because they were frustrated with the noncommittal responses they were getting from librarians.

Ultimately it was the carceral state that killed Aaron Swartz, but they would not have been involved if JSTOR didn't think that what he did constituted theft.

Taking an *EVEN LARGER* step back from that, the idea that information can be owned and locked behind a paywall is what killed Aaron Swartz, someone who fought for information to be free.

Like. JSTOR is a licensing company. At the end of the day, cute social media posts and all, they're the same as the RIAA and ASCAB. They exist to extract a fee from people attempting to access information.

Aaron Swartz and all that he stood for are an existential threat to their core function.

Are JSTOR's hands as dirty as the federal prosecutors? Absolutely not. But they operate on a model that puts them in opposition to open information activists and it ended up with a hammer falling on Aaron Swartz that they dropped.

#long post #very long post

[hypewinter]

Hal bent down as the little girl approached him. Even then, he still managed to tower over her with how small she was.

"Hey there little lady," he said. "Anything I can help you with this fine evening?"

The little girl looked at him anxiously, fiddling with her hands. Ok so not a nervous fan. Hal immediately switched to serious mode, scanning the crowd for anyone who could be her parents. He didn't see anyone running up to the two of them or even so much as keeping a watchful eye from a distance.

"Is something the matter?" Hal questioned, making sure to keep his voice even and calm.

The girl continued fidgeting, her big blue eyes scanning from side to side. Finally she spoke. "You wiff da space po-eece yes? Not da am-ear-ree-ca one?"

Hal smiled at the girl. "Yes, I'm with the space police." Honestly that was oversimplifying the Corps a little but he had long since gotten to citizens calling him a space cop.

The girl offered up a small nervous smile of her own. "So you won't tell da gov-ment what I tell you wight?"

Hal was on high alert now. Just what was this little girl trying to tell him? "I won't tell. I promise," he said after a second.

The girl broke into a big smile at this. "Really? Dis way den." She started tugging Hal along and he began to follow.

"Where exactly are we going?" he asked.

"You see," was all she replied.

Hal was led down a couple different alleyways and was beginning to think he was walking into a trap when they reached an abandoned building. The girl dashed in and up the old rusted stairs, with Hal following closely behind her.

If this really is a trap, I'll never hear the end of it from Batman, he thought morbidly as he cleared the last step. Instead of finding himself facing an ambush however, he saw a boy curled up on an old mattress. The girl was already by his side as Hal approached.

"Don wowee Danny, I got help. Like I said I would," he caught the little girl whispering as he knelt down next to the boy. He had to have been older than the girl. Three years older maybe? Yet he was still so small. Hal took sight of his condition. He was in pain. That much was certain by his little face scrunched up in agony and his quiet moans. He was also sweating profusely. His raven black hair sticking to his forehead. Fever maybe?

Hal continued his observations as he scanned down the boy's body until he got to his stomach. The boy was clutching it and Hal could make out blood bleeding through from underneath. Oh no.

He quickly yet carefully removed the boy's arm to get a better look at the wound. The kid let out a groan as his arm was peeled away. Hal couldn't help but thank Oa for all his training that helped prevent him from letting out a gasp.

The boy's chest was covered in blood. Dark red mixed with flecks of green soaked through his shirt and there were bandages that had been amateurishly tied around the wound.

"How did this happen?" Hal asked, turning back to the girl. He did his best to keep his tone as gentle as possible.

Her smile was gone now, and her eyes welled up with tears. "He pwotected me," she said. "Dey wanted to huwrt us. Dey shot at us. Danny pwotected me."

Anger boiled within Hal. Who would shoot at these children? They were only little kids. If what the girl had said earlier was anything to go off of, the answer had something to do with the government. He would have to take care of that later though. For now, this boy needed medical attention.

"Let's get Danny to a hospital," Hal said resolutely, as he got up.

"No!" the little girl screeched. "No has-pee-tail. Too dan-er-us!"

"But he needs-" Hal started but then he met the girl's eyes. There was abject fear in them. As if going to the hospital would be a death sentence for both children. Where else were they supposed to go though? The boy- Danny needed medical attention stat. That much was certain.

Hal paused. There was one place. He sighed. Batman was going to kill him for this.

"Okay okay. No hospital. But what about space?"

"Space?" the girl repeated.

Hal nodded.

The little girl smiled. "Danny lobes space!"

"Well then. That's perfect."

Hal constructed a new bed for the boy, carefully easing him onto it before putting a protective dome around both children. The little girl giggled as he lifted them up. He then turned to the wall where he created a giant hammer to knock it down. Then they were off. Flying higher and higher, towards the atmosphere. As the Watchtower got closer in sight, Hal couldn't help but groan. Taking civilians to the Watchtower? Oh yeah, Batman was definitely going to kill him.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dpxdc #winter's tales #sorry if the baby speech is annoying #really wanted to emphasize that ellie is just a tiny tot is all #side note it was strange writing “thank oa” #because on one hand it's pretty much the equivalent of saying “thank earth” #but on the other hand i felt like a natural thing for him to say? #*it #though i guess there are some people who say “thank gaia” #which is just another name for earth #but that's probably in reference to the actual greek personification so.... #idk #anyways i'm getting off into a random tangent #feel free to ignore this

[cutesilyo]

the thing i really like about just for once in nerdy prudes must die is that it's best iteration of the musical within a musical trope that has become characteristic of the hatchetfield musicals

like both show-stopping number and deck the halls (of northville high) are catchy songs from in-universe musicals that were very much written to have plots that suck

and show-stopping number was so well-beloved because it is, frankly, a hilarious scene that robert manion put 100% into

but i argue that only just for once is thematically relevant to its musical and fully emblematic of the wants and desires of the character singing it

because what is just for once, as a scene? it's ruth singing a song because she thinks she's got a chance of doing it better. it's ruth singing a song about a character who looks back on the mundane miseries of her lonely life and — at the last second — remembering who she used to be before the pain set in. it's ruth singing her version of cooler than i think i am and reflecting on how she is perceived and wondering what it takes to break away from it. it's ruth singing right after she says, "in my dreams, i'm the star of the show."

of all the losers that max jagerman victimizes, only ruth says who she'd like to become beyond that. where pete can't even admit to liking steph at gunpoint and richie doesn't ever get the chance to verbalize what he wants, ruth gets on the stage in the few minutes of break time and just for once, the spotlight is on her.

and the really crazy thing about just for once is — it has the "i'm not a loser" motif. possibly the most iconic and important motif of the whole musical, it's the motif that starts the opening number. and here it is, in the silly musical within a musical by the silly character who has — until this song — always served as comic relief.

in the climax of the song, just for once is no longer the song of a character from the barbecue monologues. it's ruth's. in those few seconds, it's her lamentation of the life that max jagerman forced on her.

but that's the thing about the "i'm not a loser" motif. the way it functions in the musical is as a harbinger for max's violence. the police at the beginning ask, "what the hell happened here?" and its the motif that answers. pete is the first character that sings the line and is immediately beaten up by max in the next scene. then richie sings it and max kills him in the same song. when ruth has the motif running as the crescendo to just for once, it sounds absolutely incredible... and it should come as no surprise when max appears shortly after.

(as a quick note: you can also hear the motif after max makes the car crash, then max appears two scenes later. you then hear the motif in the cooler than i think i am reprise and max also appears right after the song. it's like max is instantly summoned by any instance of the losers trying to shake off the role he placed on them — of trying to defy him.)

tl;dr: the inclusion of the "i'm not a loser" motif in just for once makes it the big lipped alligator moment that wasn't. like yeah, it accomplishes its goal in being the funny musical within a musical trope! the character acting makes it a funny song, and its a funny character performing it! but it also furthers our understanding of ruth AND of what the "i'm not a loser" really is: it's the characters trying to develop past being nerdy prudes and max doing everything in his power to prevent that.

and it does all that while being a banging musical tribute to stephen sondheim and, especially, his song the ladies who lunch. which in itself is a massive flex on jeff blim's part. what a brilliant song in a brilliant musical.

#npmd #nerdy prudes must die #starkid #hatchetfield #mine #i just love this song okay???? #anyway i just want to say #nerdy prudes must die is on youtube!!! go watch it!!!!

[asonofpeter]

Insanity

Pairing: Jaime Reyes x F!Reader

Summary: Your lack of sleep makes it seem like you're going insane, then again, your boyfriend has an alien inside of him...maybe insanity makes sense.

Warnings: reader has emotional distress, description of skin and flesh? mentions of sleep deprivation and male genitals, SPOILERS FOR BLUE BEETLE! there's also some light SMUT but it will be labeled by 🦋 so you can skip if you want and must be 18+ to read!

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Second part? Umm hell yeah! I gotta go see this movie again cause I wanna see Jaime wink wink. Thank you for all of those who reblogged the last part! If the smut confuses you, be aware that I'm a whore and my page mainly consists of smut. Please make sure you're 18+ when reading and enjoy! 💕💕💕

I don't consent to my work being copied, reposted, or translated.

“Where could he have possibly gone?!” you ran your fingers over your hair, tears streaming down your face as Miliagro tried to comfort you. “What the hell was that thing?” you shook your head, dumbfounded.

You had been standing, staring up at the hole in the ceiling for the last few minutes, completely dumbfounded that your boyfriend was somewhere up there. You were in hysterics compared to the rest of the family.

“Amá is calling the police, I’m sure we’ll find him,” she rubbed your shoulder, tears streaming down her face too.

A few moments later, your heart rate spiked up the moment a loud crash was heard in the dining room, the already collapsed table now housing your fainted boyfriend who was completely naked.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, hand over your mouth as you ran over to aid him but he awoke abruptly, incoherent words escaping his lips. About to stop him from moving to prevent any injury, you felt your face heat up when he stood up.

“His huevitos!” Rudy shouted, the rest of the family’s breaths hitching before Rocio and Nana started reminiscing about Jaime’s childhood. 

You stepped forward, trying to give Jaime some concealment but he pushed passed you, entirely dazed until he crashed on the couch.

“Ten, tapaló,” Rocio handed you a blanket and you quickly covered him. That’s when you all realized what was on his back. 

“That is the grossest thing I’ve ever seen,” Millie gagged beside you and you frowned at the sight of the bug fused into his back.

~

You sat at Jaime’s head on the couch, Nana waving the vapor rub in front of his nose. You combed your fingers through his hair, the smell, and your touch slowly coaxing him awake. 

His eyes opened, body jolting in shock to see all of you sitting around him. “Where?” his brows were furrowed and he stared down at himself, realization growing on him and being confirmed by a peek under the blanket. “Oh god,” he gaped, shooting up from the couch and keeping the blanket wrapped around him.

“Jaime, wait,” everyone called out, following him but he shrugged everyone off, going into his room.

“Follow him and tell him,” Millie pushed you forward and you got the message as you managed to slide into his room before he slammed the door shut.

“Jaime,” you called out, a smile forming on your face when you saw his bare ass, unable to help yourself. “You need to know something,” you wrung your fingers together, staring at the glowing blue fusion on his back. 

“Hang on, Y/N, I can explain everything. It’s all fine, this is all normal,” he struggled to put clothes on, mainly muttering to himself. “It’s all good,” he laughed, shirt in his hand as he walked over to you, a humorless laugh escaping him as he grabbed your shoulders. “I missed you,” he inhaled before leaning in and kissing you.

You were taken aback by the sudden gesture, but welcomed it nonetheless when you recalled how worried you’ve been about him. 

“Jaime,” you said when he pulled away, licking your lips as you opened your mouth to continue. “Look in the mirror,” you exhaled just as he pulled his shirt over his head.

He paused, doing as you said, his eyes widening when he got a look before a scream left his mouth.

“Just breathe, okay?” you hurried towards him before he panicked even more. “We’re gonna find a way to fix this, okay?” you grabbed his shoulders and he seemed to calm down a bit before you engulfed him in a hug.

“We’re gonna fix it,” he repeated, arms slowly wrapping around you. “I need to find Jenny”.

~

“That’s Cesar to you!” Rudy shouted at Jenny after she became the reason the Taco was ruined. 

You were all sat around the table after Jaime had driven off to go find Jenny to explain everything. You weren’t too pleased he left so suddenly, worry still raking through you from the day’s earlier event. You kept your anger under wraps, thankful to Rudy for laying it on them. 

A few moments later after hearing Rudy cry about the damage done to his truck, he came back in, fury still bubbling in his words. 

“I can’t believe you did that to my truck, after everything,” he cried. “This is all your fault,” he pointed at Jenny. “First, you put a bug inside my nephew and now my truck?!” he screamed, shaking his head.

“Wait, what’s he talking about?” Jenny darted her gaze around the table and Jaime sighed. 

“He means this,” he said, turning around and pulling his shirt over his head so she could see the blue and purple bug glowing along his spine, his flesh pink in the areas it fused to the creature.

“Oh my god,” the family shouted, Milagro gaging at the sight. You on the other hand had grown a quick immunity to the sight, your face straight as you stared at it.

“I’ve seen worse,” you and Rudy said at the same time and you shared a glance for a second before Millie butted in.

“Where?” she furrowed her brows. 

“You don’t want to know,” you said at the same time again, your gaze narrowing at him.

“What the hell is this thing?” Jaime pulled his shirt back down, leaning over the table between you and Jenny.

“It’s a scarab, given to my dad when I was a kid. It’s some type of world-destroying weapon,”  she shrugged, the sight of defeat written across her face aware that this news was not one taken well by the family.

“Great,” Jaime inhaled deeply, hands running through his hair as he walked into the kitchen.

“So did you know this was going to happen when you handed it to my brother?” Millie asked, shooting daggers at Jenny. 

“No! I swear I didn’t. The scarab isn’t activated by any person, it chooses you,” Jenny elaborated. “So that means it chose you,” she turned to Jaime, a look of disbelief on his face.

You were sitting silently beside everyone, arms crossed over your chest as you took in the information you were given. Emotions trickled through you, you were sure you’d experienced all of them at least once today, but hearing the words come out of her mouth, you couldn’t help but crack your stoic face and double over in laughter.

“That is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard, you’re joking,” you managed between laughs, the family sparing glances at each other and Jaime placed a hand on your shoulder to check on you.

“Ignore her, she hasn’t slept since yesterday. Night shift,” Millie excused you.

“Are you sure she didn’t get the alien inside her? Seems like she’s going insane,” Rudy butted in, twirling his finger by his temple to say “cookoo”. 

“Ay, Rudy,” Rocio waved him off. “As you can see she’s a little out of it from the lack of sleep”.

At her statement, the laughing stopped and you straightened up, composing yourself with a clearing of your throat.

“I’m not out of it,” you defended. You were sure you slept a good hour this morning. “I’m just finding it a little hard to believe that there’s an alien inside my boyfriend’s body, bonding to him as we speak,” you exhaled. “It’s insane!”

“It’s okay,” Jaime reassured, his other hand coming up to massage your shoulder. “You said it chose me, so how do we make it unchose me?” he asked, turning back to Jenny who had a look of softness cross over her eyes as she stared at you two.

“I’m not sure. But if I can get access to the proper technology, we can figure out a way,” she claimed. “I just need a key. It’s located at Kord Industries though,” she said, face falling. 

“I have a way in,” Rudy said. “Come on, cabezon, we’re gonna get that thing outta you,” he pointed. 

“Okay, Jenny, Rudy, and I will go. You guys stay here,” Jaime said, mainly looking at you.

“Are you crazy? I’m going with you,” you shook your head, standing up to meet him.

“Y/N, you haven’t slept since yesterday. You should sleep,” he cupped your face.

“I’m not tired,” you pulled away from him. “You’re insane if you think I’m letting you go out on this without me,” you argued. “I don’t want to miss this,” you frowned. “You have god-knows-what inside you, I should be there,” you reaffirmed, glancing at the floor.

“She’s right, mijo,” Alberto sided with you and Jaime let out a defeated sigh. 

“Okay, let’s go,” he agreed.

~

The former Kord Estate was a magnificent abandoned haven. The secret passageway entering Jenny’s dad’s lab was insane and other-worldly. Nothing about this day made sense and you only hoped there was a cure so you could get on with your lives. 

After Jaime decided a better fit of clothes would be preferred, you followed him and Jenny upstairs. You were both shown into an empty bedroom, presumably a spare one seeing as it had no personal touches added to it. 

You were staring out the window while Jaime was in the bathroom when Jenny came back with a blue tracksuit be she left, a kind smile on her face as she departed. The door shut behind her as Jaime walked from the bathroom.

“I have accelerated healing,” he brushed his fingers over his cheek and you sent him a puzzled look. “Look,” he walked closer to you to show you his perfectly unbroken skin that was red and cut only a few moments ago.

“Hmm,” you hummed. “This is still too insane to believe,” you pressed a hand to your forehead, shaking out a laugh and your boyfriend smiled before pulling you in for a hug. “Does it hurt?” you asked, referring to the scarab.

“Not really,” he shrugged before he pulled off the muscle tee, leaving him shirtless in front of you. “It looks bad, but to be honest, it feels,” he paused for a second. “Normal”.

“That’s something then,” you wrung your fingers together, trying to sound as supportive as you could.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay, alright? We’re going to get it out of me,” he rubbed your arms reassuringly and you sighed. “I love you, you know that?” he rubbed his thumb along your cheek and you nodded. 

“I love you too,” you recited. “It’s weird,” you added, glancing around the room. “The silence,” you tilted your head, able to hear nothing. “I’m now realizing I haven’t had a moment alone with you since you got back,” you chewed on your lip, cheeks heating up.

“I mean, we’re alone right now,” he suggested, a knowing look washing over his face.

“I want to savor it,” you nodded, staring into his beautiful brown eyes.

“You can do whatever you want, mi amor,” he traced patterns on your hip with his thumb. 

“I really do need the distraction,” you licked your lips, gaze falling to his lips. 

“Same here,” he swallowed. 

“I think we have time,” you added, hands coming up to wrap around his neck softly. 

“We definitely do,” he agreed, one of his hands sliding underneath your shirt. 

🦋

With that, you both leaned in, pressing your lips together in a soft gentle kiss, one filled with desperation but screamed all the reassurance you both needed.

You ran your fingers through his hair, his hand squeezing your hip as he pulled you closer.

Living with five other people in a small house wasn’t as fun as it usually was. You shared a room with your boyfriend’s sister, your boyfriend was in another city for four years previously, and now that he was back, your schedules never coincided with your night shift. To keep things quick, you and your boyfriend rarely have sex.

His hands ran over your back, one hand finding its place on your waist while the other snaked up to cup your jaw. Your moans vibrated against each other as you pressed your bodies together, closer than before.

You pulled away, guiding Jaime to sit on the closest chair before you straddled his lap. Your kiss resumed as his hands glided over your ass and under your thighs while you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging on his curls. 

He made a move to take off your shirt and you followed through, leaving you in your bra until you got up quickly to shimmy your sweatpants off. 

“Fuck,” Jaime threw his head against the chair, frustration laced in his tone. 

“What?” you frowned, pausing in your movements. “Did you?” you led on, gaze dropping to his crotch. “It’s okay if-,” you shrugged, disappointment in your voice but his eyes shot open. 

“No! Not that,” his cheeks tinted with pink. “We don’t have a condom,” he explained, and you tilted your head up in realization. 

“Oh,” you said. “Well shit,” you exhaled. “So much for a distraction,” you bent down to pull your pants back up before you sat back in his lap, head resting against his shoulder. 

“Soon, baby, soon,” he mumbled into your hair as he placed a kiss.

🦋

You smiled, reaching up for a kiss before a knock on the door was interrupted. 

“It’s Rudy, I’m not coming in cause of last time, but we need y’all downstairs,” he shouted through the door and you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up at the thought of last time.

“We should go,” Jaime said once you heard Rudy’s steps fade away. 

You agreed, getting up to move and letting him change before you opened the door. Your boyfriend stopped you though, hand wrapped around your wrist, you glanced at him expectedly.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he said and you grinned.

“Me too”. 

~

Reblogs are the best!

#jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes #jaime reyes imagine #jaime reyes x you #jaime reyes fanfiction #blue beetle #blue beetle 2023 #xolo maridueña

[trashmouth-richie]

eddie x Fem! Reader

honey I’m home masterlist

TW: 18+ hospitals, trauma, crying, etc

A/N: this is a short little chapter. the next one will be longer— thank you for hanging onto this story even though it took me forever to get it started. I have most of the next chapter done so it’ll probably be posted next week.

The blue and red lights are blinking in rapid succession. Painting the curtains in washes of ruby and royal. 

  The sirens should have been loud but Eddie figured it was the blood trickling down his head and into his ear canal that was preventing him from hearing clearly. 

  He fought with the first responders. 

  Fought with the people fussing over him and trying to rush him into an ambulance. 

  He refused to leave you. 

  He didn’t need to be cared for. 

  He didn’t care about anything. 

  Only you.

  Mr. Derry’s loud knock and burst through the door was the exact distraction needed for Eddie to grip the bat in his bloody hand. 

  Rings squeezing tight around blood and the wooden handle, he swung hard. A suddenly athlete in a smokers body. He felt the thuds and friction vibrating in his forearms when the nailed head connected with flesh. But he didn’t stop until there were two crumpled bodies collapsed on the red stained carpet. 

  And when the ambulance crew met him at the door, gurney ready, you were wrapped tight in his arms. A faint pulse echoed like a whisper against your skin. Eddie’s tears streaming down his face and onto yours. 

  His promise pressed delicately to your lips.

—

  “What have we got?” 

  “According to the patient’s friend, she is twenty-one-year, sir! you need to be looked at, and lived by herself for the past few months..” 

  I’m fine! Jesus— get off me and help her! 

  “…call came in at 2208 from a Mr. William Derry— the neighbor— claiming there were screams coming from across the street of his residence on Cherry Lane. Dispatch didn’t think to respond right away due to the many calls Mr. Derry has submitted to the Police Department.”

  “Sir, I am not telling you again, you need to be checked out!” 

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “When nobody showed up, the neighbor went across the street after hearing more screaming. Patient was held up by her throat by the DOA”

  “Bill has him in truck 011, ID found on the body confirmed he was Chad Cunningham.” 

—-

Eddie is standing before you, looking the same has he did the morning g after Halloween. It’s similar but different. There’s more light in the kitchen, and he is rosy cheeked like a cherub, his movements almost floating like angel wings as he moves the carton of orange juice hp to his lips, small glints of a silver nipple ring peaking out from the cutoff shirt he wore. 

  When he speaks, it’s like a harp is playing, all song and beautiful notes, extending and echoing around the room. 

  “So when do I get this trophy sweetheart?” He says with a grin, “thinking of putting on a shelf in my room,” 

  Your laugh feels like butterflies tickling your stomach, “you can’t be serious.” 

  His head dips as he walks towards you, smile displaying the prettiest teeth, “damn straight, want the whole town to know I had the best costume!”

  “Stolen costume,”

  “Pppffft, I just borrowed it.” the wink he delivers is almost sinful, toothachingly sweet enough to give a dentist a cavity, and you melt on the spot. 

— 

“Miss? Can you tell us your name? Can you tell us anything?” 

  Sterile. 

  Chemical.

  You were either in a hospital or a morgue. You didn’t feel any pain so it very likely could be the worst of the two options. Whatever you were laying on was cold. And when you tried to move you found you couldn’t. 

  Is this death?

  Eyelids heavy and unable to cooperate and make the connection with your brain on flicking open so you could see what was happening. 

  The only thing constant was a buzzing in both ears. A tug along your eyelids and rubber glove fingers on your body. But you were trapped in your mind, unable to speak, to scream, to show any physical movements other than the involuntary rise and fall of your chest and your lungs being filled with oxygen, fed through flexible plastic of the oxygen mask placed on your face. 

  Oblivious to your surroundings. 

  “Severe trauma to both eyes, laceration to the back of the head, severe swelling and possible damage to the larynx, Katerina, what did the CT show?” 

  “CT came back clear, X-Ray showed a break to both zygomatic bones, 5th and 6th ribs and a lacerated spleen…”

  “Look at her nails, poor thing fought for her life,” 

  “they both did.” 

  You found the will to whisper what you needed to tell them. Voice hoarse and barely audible, removing the mask they look in horror back at your words, and  immediately the feeling of warm liquid entering your veins and the blur of sleep covers your body. 

—

  He visits you again, this time you know it’s a dream. The pink clouds flow behind his head even though you are standing in the living room. But it’s different, blurred on the edges, hazy sweet and refined. How heaven could be described. 

  “I look good in this don’t even lie,” Eddie says with a spin, the white cotton of your robe resembling a mini skirt on his long legs, “but if you want me to take it off all you have to do is ask, I’m a pleaser, baby.”

  He was every version of himself, handsome, gross and menacing. Sweet and caring, eye twinkling, soft voiced: Eddie. The beer taped to his hand like it was all those months ago when you splashed him awake, threatening to kick him out. 

  Delivering his classic one liners that you now knew helped fuel your love for him. 

  “What? Hair of the dog baby, gotta keep drinking to avoid a hangover.”

  And maybe your love for him was always there. 

  Showing up in the background, fluttering bird wings of your heart before you even noticed. 

  Developing into something sweeter, deeper, so heartbreakingly sick it took a disaster and almost the last pulse in your veins for you to be able to admit it. 

  -

Steve had been pacing the cream colored tiles for over thirty minutes. The squeak of his Nikes against the floor were something Eddie was trying hard to focus on instead of worrying about you in the ICU, but so far it wasn’t working.

  The nasal cannula was annoying, he could breathe fine on his own. The stitches in his eyebrow itched and stung with each weave through his skin, pulled taut around the swelling in his face. 

  The shot the nurses had administered to calm him down after screaming and trying to fight his way to you, was making his mind fuzzy— still, Steve’s pacing kept him company. Step step step squeak, step step step hand in hair, followed by an agitated huffing breath.

  A nurse with a long blond ponytail braided down her back opens the polyester curtain with a drag and slips inside the room. A black rubber and steel stethoscope around her neck, before she could introduce herself Steve exploded with fury. 

  “Tell me what the hell is going on in this poor excuse for a hospital, right now!” Steve’s hair shook from its feathered position when he spoke, his demanding voice booming across the tiles. 

  Without missing a beat and clearly dealing with high strung men before she said almost monotonously, “Sir, you need to calm yourself down, this is a h-”

  But Steve’s fire was only fueled by her dismissive tone, his voice never wavering, “No, I will not calm down! The police were made aware of this situation a year ago and nothing was ever done!” 

  The police officer standing outside guarding entry to the room tipped his head in slow, “Mr. Harrington, we hear your complaints but there isn’t anything we can—”

  “Bullshit!” A tear stain cheeked Robin sobbed, her face red and blotchy from hours of crying and rubbing her freckles clean, “Eddie told you what happened yet he’s still cuffed to a bed like a fucking criminal!”

  She broke down again, clinging to Steve’s side like a wounded child, sobbing into the soft cotton of his crewneck sweater. “This is unethical! Unco—”

  “Alright that’s enough hot shot,” Hopper shouts in finality towards Steve, a wrinkle burrowed deep in his forehead accompanied with graying thick eyebrows set in a devastating frown. 

  “Chief,” Wayne interjects, cap wringing in his calloused, wrinkle bared hands, his voice wobbly but steady, runny nose and wet tears cling to his scruffy beard, “my son was protectin’ that girl, you know Eddie…he’d never hurt someone unless his life or someone he cared about was in danger.” 

  Hopper tore his gaze from the one of the richest in the room to the poorest, hanging his head with sorrow, “ ‘m sorry, Wayne— but until Mr. Derry’s statement comes back and Eddie is cleared… the cuffs stay.” 

  Wayne hung his head low, the few wiry hairs on his balding head stuck in all sorts of directions despite his attempt at raking them into submission. 

  “Jim Hopper you should be ashamed of yourself,” Karen Wheeler spoke up now, head held high, claw clip  teetering with each gesturing movement of her head, “you know good and well this boy couldn’t have done that to her! They loved each other!” 

  Since the pacing of Steve’s feet had stopped Eddie’s heart rattled hard in his chest, he clawed at the heart monitors on his chest, tried to bite the IV’s from his arms, caged like a wild animal he let out a broken cry, “ple— please, she needs me.”

  “Mr. Munson,” the nurse with blonde hair replies sternly, “she is in critical condition, we don’t know if or when she will be able to to recover, she is heavily sedated and needs rest, her only visitors will be family at this time.” 

  “Speaking of,” another nurse chirps, young and fresh gilled, entirely too eager to please her superior, “do you know how to get a hold of her family?”

  He shakes his head slow, causing a pounding headache, “I am her family,” Eddie grunts through clenched teeth, pushing himself up on the bed as far as his cuffs would allow, Steve’s hand on his shoulder. “Look around this room! Ted and Karen Wheeler, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Nancy Byers.. we are all she has,” a single tear falls down his bruised cheek, liquid salt in the cut in his top lip. 

  “Okay sir.. who is responsible for her?” 

  “In regards to what? Financially? You money hungry pricks just don’t let up so you?,” Ted Wheeler finally speaks behind his wife, shock and anger evident on his wrinkled features.

  “Not exactly…”

  “Whatever it is, I will handle it, alright?” Eddie interjects, annoyed with the questions, worried only about you, “I’m responsible for her.”

  “Oh,” the nurse says, perking up slightly, marking a red check mark on her clipboard, smoothing out her uniform, “so you are aware of her condition then.” 

  Light bulbs click for everyone in the room but the curly brown haired metal head. 

  Oh my God

  …Tooty

  Holy shit.

  “That she got the shit kicked out of her by that fucking psycho Chad Cunningham?”

  Eddie.

  Ma’am can we talk privately in the hall? 

  “…obviously I’m aware! I was there when it happened! That dumb fuck already took my statement!” he said gesturing to Deputy Wallace. 

  “No, Mr. Munson..”

  This isn’t the time for this! Wayne tried to warn the nurse, but it fell on deaf, naive ears.

  “…she’s right around twelve weeks pregnant.” 

  A pin dropping could have been heard from a mile away. The oxygen was sucked from the room. Karen’s hand was clapped around her mouth. Nancy and Robin choked back sobs.  

  Everyone was struck with horror, but not Eddie. 

  His mind playing that beautiful night between you like a movie in his head. The way your skin felt, the way his heart ached with fullness at your shared fervor and passion. 

  REWIND

  PLAY

  The curve of your lips on his skin, kissing him sweet and slow, no noise, just the love making swallowing you both whole. 

  REWIND 

  PLAY

  PAUSE 

  Your soft snores as he counted the popcorn marks in the ceiling, his girl. His entire universe. 

  STOP

  EJECT 

  The tears rolled like a ferocious river down his face, carving a path down his cheeks and under his wobbling chin, wetting the hospital gown he was forced into when he got here. 

  You were alone.

  He didn’t know anything about pregnancy besides the woman usually got sick right? Every emotion that most men feel when finding out they were going to be a dad hit him all at once. 

  But not fear. 

  He imagined you with a big swollen belly, feet too pudgy to fit into shoes, he’d rub them with lotion until you could fall asleep. 

  He’d imagined his arms holding you from behind, your baby wrapped in his arms still in your womb. The relief you might feel from the weight being in his hands. 

  You were experiencing this pain all by yourself. 

  He couldn’t fathom how you were feeling. Scared. Hopeless? He had no idea. And the thought of you being alone had him nauseous. 

  Why didn’t you didn’t tell him?  

  Why didn’t anyone tell him? 

  His fury built and shook as his voiced boom with grief as he screamed at Steve, dark eyes blood shot and red rimmed. 

  “How could you,” he broke, struggling through the words, "why would you not tell me?!” The cuffs around his wrist broke skin as he tried to claw his way out of them, trying to reach at Steve’s shirt demanding to be heard. 

  “Ed— fuck man!” Steve started, mouth gaping at Eddie’s arms dripping with blood from his fresh wounds, “we didn’t know!” 

  Robin speaks now, trying to reach for Eddie’s hand to offer him some comfort, “She didn’t tell us, Eddie—Steve is right, she didn’t say a word to any of us about it.” 

  “Fuck!” Eddie screams, slamming his wrists into the bed sides, “I sh—should h-have..,” the end falls silent as his long legs were pulled to his chin and he buried his head into them. 

  In the minutes it had been since he found out, he was already a shitty fucking dad.

  The pain of what happened to you and him not being able to stop it quick enough was killing him, and now, realizing that you were carrying his child and you were all alone? 

  There weren’t words for the gut wrenching feeling ripping through him. Overwhelming dread, chest tight with panic and pain. The nausea overtaking him. The vomit came fast, splashing allover himself and the bed, landing in thick puddles on Steve’s shoes. He cried harder and sobbed uncontrollably. When his stomach was empty he could only dry heave. 

  Wayne moved across the tiled floor in quick steps, careful not to slip in the wayward puke in his path. Sitting down hard and with purpose next to Eddie. This wasn’t his first rodeo of seeing Eddie in this turmoil. But never as a grown man. 

  He tried his hardest to hold back the tears he swore he’d never let fall in front of his boy, but gravity won the fight when Eddie pulled him into a bone crushing hug, his sobs snuffed by the canvas of his work jacket. 

———

It was a full 12 hours before Mr. Derry’s statement was released. Tough old bird, he couldn’t be coerced even with the gentle threat from the Cunningham’s came down hard breathing down his neck. 

  Surely not their son? Their angel?

  But the proof was there. An eye witness statement and a severely beaten woman, the record from years past and the statement from both Steve and Robin on what happened last year at your apartment, stood its ground. 

  Eddie was cleared as a free man, self defense in the eyes of the law. The second his cuffs were off he was throwing his boots onto his gripper socked feet, and untangling himself from wires and needles. 

  Steve and Wayne had both taken off work to help Eddie pick up his medication and make him go home and rest. When he tried to protest, Wayne gave Eddie a look that could pierce steel, the kind of look saying no bullshit, and begrudgingly he followed the men out to Steve’s Mercedes. 

  Nancy and Karen stayed behind at the hospital, filling your room with heavily perfumed flowers. Hushed whispers between the mother and daughter as they prayed and hoped that you would make it out of this horrific nightmare. 

  The doctors would only speak to Eddie. Letting him aware that your condition was improving but they would not be able to lift the sedation just yet. A day passed then another. Eddie slept in the hospital grade recliner in your room each night. Singing you sweet lulls of your favorite song. Promising you the world if you would just open your eyes. 

  He was weak himself. Fighting the urge to break down in front of anyone again with each hour that passed. 

-

4 days led to 5 and the nurses and doctors whispered behind their clipboards. On the 6th day they decided to lift the sedation to see how your body would tolerate pain. 

  Eddie never left. 

  Machines beeped and ticked. Tubes and wires connecting from you drip with fluid and monitoring systems. The white walls and outdated curtains of the hospital shine a yellowed glow into your room, bringing with it a warmth to your cotton thread blanket and warming the skin on your arms. A welcomed feeling compared to the cold needles of the IV poking into your skin delivering flows of medicine and liquids to keep you hydrated and your pain manageable. 

  Foiled balloons printed with get well wishes bounce and sway with the kick on from the vent. 

  One of your hands is unexpectedly warmer than the other. A rough drag across the knobs of your knuckles is a familiar feeling, and you smell him before you even open your eyes to acknowledge that it’s him. 

  The clinging smell of cigarettes on a freshly washed shirt and the spice of deodorant force their way into your nose. It’s a different shampoo than the one you’re used to catching on him. More manly. All sandalwood and musk a hint of citrus. And at first you think he’s someone else… maybe Steve picked up smoking heavily again?

  But when a tuned hum reverberates low against your hand followed by a pair of lips kissing gently around the IV and tape poked and laid against your skin, you know for certain it’s the man you’ve been dreaming about. 

  The one you cried for. 

  The one who visited your sleeping mind and told you everything was going to be okay.

  His name falls from your lips like choked frozen honey, thick in your mouth and on a dry tongue. 

  It was the most beautiful noise he had ever heard. 

  His girl. His whole world. Awake.

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #fic recs #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things

[forcemeanakin]

Giving Anakin roadhead

some visual and hearing aid to channel this vibe: : Link

giving Anakin roadhead during a roadtrip it's not a want, but a need of mine.

-it all started way too soon in the trip tbh. you were driving at night and he was looking so fucking good. messy hair because of the wind, arm flexed over the door while the window was down. the lights from other cars would shine over his face and the music that was playing had you in some type of mood.

-so you just went for it

-he was kinda surprised at first, but when he saw your perfectly polished hand fidgeting with his belt, he knew things were about to get interesting

-doing it to prevent him from falling asleep, or because you lost the last round of the game you were playing, or even to mess with him and see if he strays from the path

-ofc he doesn't !!! he is even driving with just one hand, the other one keeping your head in place

-bucking his hips, fucking your mouth while he's trying to figure out which exit he needs to take

-but he NEVER tells you to back down, even when his brain is melting

-you even went to a drive-thru while you were giving him head:

-"can I have a burger deluxe and...baby, what do you want?" he says, lifting his hips to reach for his wallet, making you gag

-"bachum frhsjes" you hum, dick halfway down your throat

-"can I have bacon fries and a chocolate milk-" you bump his thigh with his fist. "-strawberry! strawberry milkshake, please."

-the "oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck" and "jesuuuus" moment of the video it's so accurate for this head canon I'm s(creaming)

-one time you were almost caught by the police, anakin driving by a transit officer but he wouldn't let you detach your mouth from his groin. and the second you were clear, he whispered: "this never happened... never happened."

-your throat would be raw by the end of the trip

should I turn this into a one shot

#anakin skywalker #star wars #sw anakin #anakin skywalker smut #darth vader #anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #darth vader x you #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker blog #anakin star wars #star wars anakin #star wars prequels #star wars cast #anakin skywalker one shot #vaderkin #hayden christensen blurb #hayden christensen

[nymphaliia]

𐙚 TOKYO REVENGERS SMUT

୨୧ sanzu x police officer!reader

— you need to arrest sanzu, but you're alone and he thinks you'd be so much prettier beneath him, so he takes it upon himself to remind you of your place.

cw : noncon, gun play (not really), threats, public sex, blowjob, cum swallow, humiliation, slight spitting

my masterlist : ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

your job was tough. you knew that when you signed up so you didn't have any right to complain. but there were nights like this which were radically harder than others.

you were patrolling on your assigned neighborhood on your own. it wouldn't be effective to have you there without any help, but your police station was running short of workforce so it left you with no choice.

and you regretted deeply to have come here tonight when your boss had suggested you join another group in a less secluded area. but, you wanted to assure the safety of the inhabitants, as you've been warned repeatedly of the growing activity of various gangs here.

regardless, when you think about it, it was careless and stupid of you to think you could've managed any issues alone if one had to happen.

this overconfident thought process of yours is what led you to your current situation, a gun pointed at your head. your gun.

"what's wrong, weren't you about to arrest me?", you tried to think cleverly, hands raised in a surrender motion in hopes he wouldn't shoot just for fun.

"listen, I'm only doing my job. you need to surrender yourself to the police, my colleagues have been notified, they'll be there soon. it's in your interest to stop protesting" the man seemed insanely high, pupils dilated all the way and an eccentric speech you often found with drug addicts.

you had to gain time and act extra careful with him. the way he handled your gun showed you he wasn't a novice and knew what he was doing. shooting you would have been the least exciting highlight of his day.

"you talk a lot for a little bitch like you. your mouth doesn't need all those big words" you watched as he glared at you, getting annoyed at your 'bratty' act and thinking of a way to entertain himself.

"you're quite reckless even though I'm holding you at gunpoint" he stated lazily. you eyed him carefully, choosing not to say anything for fear of upsetting him further.

"do you value your life ? because I'm thinking of a few ways you could try and save your life" he laughed lightly, a playful expression finally making his way to his face.

you gulped as you watched him start to caress his member through his pants and you noticed with dread that the man was hard. a little wet spot had appeared and you could only pray he wouldn't make you do what you thought he would.

but of course, he was the one in charge. you had been dumb enough to let this drug addict stole it from you and now you were paying the price. you judged your options, not knowing what he would do to you and how far he was able to take it. you prepared yourself for any demand.

"get on your knees and show me how much you want to live. or would you like to test how long it'll take for your other friends to get there?", he agitated the gun in front of your head, clearly indicating what was about to become of you if you tried to play it smart.

you could resist, but he seemed way too determined at making you obey. you knew he'd force you physically if you didn't follow his words.

you shuddered at the thought of your coworkers stumbling upon you, watching with disgust and horror their sweetest colleague in such a shameful position.

so you went along, swallowing your pride and slowly sinking to your knees. you felt humiliated and wronged, knowing you'll get no mercy from the man in front of you. you were either gonna suck him off or die on the spot. your choice was done.

you grew more anxious as you watched him unzip his pants, taking his hard dick out and presenting it to you. the tip fell on your lips and you had a recoil, lucidity preventing you from remaining emotionless.

"come on princess, work for your life", he was mocking you and you had no choice but to stay silent, slowly parting your lips when he forced his dick inside.

watching you glaring up at him with a face cutely deformed by his length made him laugh at you, condescending eyes looking down at you.

"aah yes, you're definitely prettier when you shut the fuck up. acting all big and mighty just doesn't suit an airhead like you baby"

you wanted to cuss him out, regretting how stupid you had been for complying to his words in exchange for your life. at least you would've died properly during your shift like any proper cop.

but here you were, on your knees for the criminal you were supposed to arrest. you were such a failure, if your police station learned about that, you could bet your life was over for real this time.

"you better hurry up and make me cum, wouldn't want them to find out their colleague is just a dumb slut who opens her mouth wide for any criminal to cum into, right?" he presses the gun deeper into your forehead, eyes questioning if you have any fighting spirit left in you with a raised brow. he smirks when he finally feels you start to move, your movements are clumsy but it draws a few loud moans from him, obviously not caring at all about the possible passers-by.

"fuck, getting your dick sucked by a cute little cop is the best. you're doing great baby, taking it like a champ'", he mocks, tangling his hand in your head and watching you gag as he pushes you deeper and deeper on his cock. your choke are stimulating him and he finds no sympathy in himself to give you a moment to breathe.

you turn light-headed, slapping his thighs in an attempt to ask him for oxygen and he just laughs.

"poor princess, do you need someth- aah almost there, that's right keep sucking me like that" he swiftly puts your gun in his back pocket to allow him to use your head easier. that's how harmless you seem to him, he doesn't even need a gun to make you submit and it hurts your pride even more.

he now grabs two handful of your hair, scalp burning in his hands, before he slides you along his shaft quicker.

he throws his head back, enjoying the unholy sounds you make along with the sweet pleasure your abused throat offers him.

you find little relief in knowing you're alone there. at least your reputation won't be too dirtied... but of course, it wouldn't be funny if that's how things went?

"y/n ?! where are you, we've received your localisation" you freeze. you recognise that voice as your colleague, a nice guy with whom you spend most of your shift with. expect for tonight.

you look up at the man above you, fearing the glint of malice in his eyes.

"they came to look for you, how sweet. do you want me to call them over to tell them you're alright baby?" he roughly removes you from his dick, allowing you to pant for air. you would've crumbled at his feet if not for the way his hand was solidly attached to your hair. it hurt and you were scared to be discovered.

you hurriedly pleaded him with multiple shakes of your head, eyes wide and looking up at him with dread.

sanzu felt like he had won, smiling satisfyingly upon witnessing how undone you looked. just a bit of manhandling, threats and having your mouth fucked was enough to turn you into a submissive cum slut? what a treat.

he was glad he decided to go pay a visit to one of his client tonight.

"damn, her car is here but she's nowhere to be found. hope she's alright, there's a lot of gang stuff going on in this place" you listen as the voices come and go, internally praying for them to leave as soon as possible and search for you somewhere else.

you were too lost in your fear that you let out a loud chocking sound when he shoved his dick again in your warm mouth, growing tired of listening to the shouting of your name. and he stayed there again, unmoving, wearing your mouth like a socket.

you tried to throw a look behind you. you could hear them but couldn't see anything as he had your back turned on the road. even though you were hidden in a dark alley, you knew sanzu could see them clearly and you could only hate the way his smile widened at your distress.

"hey be careful, you don't want them to find you if your being too loud, do you?" and with that he started pounding into your head again.

he enjoyed the way your face looked a mess, with saliva dripping down your chin and chest, knees bruised at how long you've been on the ground and how your mascara was dirtying your cheeks. it felt so good to corrupt a cute little cop like you.

he felt your throat tightening upon hearing footsteps getting closer. he knew you were scared but it only pushed him to wreck you even more.

"oh- yes that's the spot. if you keep doing that I might just nut on the spot, are you sure you're doing the right job? might as well just become a whore..."

and he finally felt it, happy to do it in your pretty mouth.

he gripped your hair tighter, coming in your mouth with low grunts. you chocked around him, helping him finish quicker. you felt the warm liquid spurting inside and you had no choice but to swallow as he wouldn't let you go until he was sure you had tasted him fully.

"fuck, that felt so good princess. I love coming into an obedient slut's mouth, always the best" he patted the top of your hair dreamily, his lips stretched into a content smile while he kept his dick inside your mouth, waiting for the high to dissolve a little.

when he finally released you, he let his dick go in a pop, letting it rest on top of your panting head, the saliva and rest of cum coating his shaft fell on your head in drops but you were too exhausted and defeated to do anything.

sanzu felt satisfied with how things turned out today and chose to leave without any regrets. he promised himself he would pay you a little visit too when he felt like it and he jokingly kissed your cheek, thanking you for your hard work.

he cleaned his member by smearing it on your face before putting it back in his pants. he threw your gun back right in front of you "I think that's yours, you can keep it baby" and with a final spit on your face, which you received with no resistance, he finally left, unapologetic and a ting of mockery in his tone "I'm sure you'll be able to keep that secret between the two of us, right princess?"

what an asshole.

you took a moment to gather yourself, messily clearing your face up with your shirt, trying your best to look presentable.

you felt ashamed of yourself for having helped this asshole to cum. you spat all you could to try and get rid of the foul taste but to no avail.

you were at least glad he wasn't here to witness your little reunion with the people you worked with for years. you know he would've laughed at you.

you dusted your knees as you stood up, stumbling on your feet which had grown weak during the past minutes. you tried to think of a good excuse to justify your lack of response and finally made yourself known to your coworkers.

"y/n, here you are! we thought something bad happened to you- wait are you okay, you look really... tired?"

#nymphaliia ★ #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers dark smut #tokyorev smut #tokyorev dark smut #sanzu x reader #sanzu smut #sanzu x you #sanzu imagines #sanzu oneshot #sanzu drabbles #tokrev sanzu #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers drabbles #tokyo revengers sanzu #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut headcanons #sanzu headcanons #anime smut #anime dark smut #tr dark smut #tr smut #tr sanzu #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers angst #tokyo revengers yandere

[noandpickles]

Can we talk about Across the Spider-Verse as a metaphor for immigration policing?

First, we have the watches. A pass that lets you cross borders that were previously immutable. They (and the little electrostatic wristbands) also prevent you from being constantly penalized (i.e., glitching) for being in the wrong dimension. But access is heavily controlled by a central authority that's obsessed with making sure that, with few exceptions, everyone stays where they started. (Hobie instantly challenges this structure from pretty much the moment he appears on screen. Want a watch? Make your own. Fuck these assholes who try to control free movement.)

Then, we have the Go Home Machine. A device (or creature??) that reads your DNA to figure out where to send you. That description instantly set me on edge. It sounds like an ethnonationalist's dream. Everybody ends up where their genes are "from" (however you define that, whatever arbitrary point in history you choose to define people's "true origin"), regardless of where they want to be or where they actually live.

And then we have Miles. Miles, the New Yorker with Puerto Rican and African ancestry. Miles, born and raised on Earth-1610 but with traces of Earth-42 in his DNA. He had every reason to expect the Go Home Machine would send him home. But based on something in his genes that has nothing to do with where his home actually is, it sent him to a place he'd never been. And that's not a glitch in that kind of system. That's exactly what it's designed to do.

#across the spider verse #atsv #across the spider verse spoilers #miles morales

[sciderman]

you know i'm kind of obsessed with the tragedy of gwen stacy in the tasm movies because she's - she's such an interesting, tragic creature. we get into it a little in tasm1, that. you know, her father is a police captain - you know, authoritative. incredibly protective of her.

and looking at it, gwen is constantly the victim of men deciding what's best for her. her father decides it's best for her that she stay away from peter. peter decides it's best too, obviously, even though it hurts. it's not a question of what gwen wants.

thinking of the scene in tasm where gwen confides in peter, as she's cleaning his wounds, that she knows what this is - every day she sees her father strap a badge to his chest and she doesn't know if he's going to make it home or not.

gwen's powerless - she has these men in her life that she loves that are constantly making dangerous decisions that put their own lives in danger, and she's constantly expected to sit by passively and do nothing and pray for them to get home safely. like her own desires don't matter. she wants them to be there, she wants to have a say in what these men do, because she loves them and they're important to her. but she has no power. she knows that what they're doing is noble and good for the world, but she is sidelined and never listened to. she has no superpowers, no badge, and no say in the matter.

and her father gets killed. doing something stupid and heroic. and she wasn't involved, and she was powerless to prevent it. and even still, after his death, he's trying to push gwen out of the way of danger. strip her of agency in her own life. she can't be with peter. she doesn't get a say in the matter.

of course that doesn't work out, and peter and gwen wind up back together - but peter is eaten up with guilt, and still thinks he shouldn't be with gwen because gwen is safer without him, yadda yadda, and gwen is sick of it. gwen is sick of men dictating what becomes of her. what she can and can't have. where she should and shouldn't be. so.

i always made fun of this bit of script - it's so, so funny.

"i break up with you peter. i break up with you."

i make fun of it all the time, but i get it. i get why it's written this way. the tasm2 script isn't subtle. gwen is pointedly telling peter that she is calling the shots. peter cannot dictate her fate. this is her choice. she breaks up with him. she is the one with power in this dynamic. she is taking the power. she is not his damsel that needs protecting. she is allowed to tell peter what she wants, and make her own decision about what's best for her.

cut to the end, where peter webs gwen to a car. he wants her out of the line of fire. even though she's proven she's helpful and capable, more so than peter. peter wants her out of harms way, so that he can do something heroic and dangerous.

gwen is SICK of it!! she's going to be heroic and dangerous too. if these men can throw themselves into the line of fire with little care for the people they leave watching helplessly in the rafters than, by god, gwen can do it too. she's not going to watch helplessly as peter fights his battle on his horse, dick swinging, swords drawn. and she's not going to passively sit by as peter gets himself killed because actually, peter's not as smart as he thinks he is.

he's just stupid enough to take the hits and scrape himself off the pavement afterwards. gwen is the one with the plan. and if gwen weren't there, peter might not have been able to pull everything off. he probably would've eventually taken them down in the end, but he would've definitely taken more of a beating, and more property damage, and potentially, more civilian casualties. it was a good thing gwen was there. female excellence. it's not always about who can take a hit.

of course, in the end up - gwen winds up in peril, and no. she doesn't have powers that can save her. and, these men who try and do everything to protect her - they're fallible. but it was her choice. her choice to do the heroic thing, despite her fragility. her choice to step into the line of fire, without super-strength or spider-reflexes. and i think it's a poetic, heroic way to go.

one thing though, that i feel is mismanaged, almost infuriatingly so – is how underdelivered on gwen's death as a heroic gesture. in the end it becomes more about peter's guilt than it does about gwen's sacrifice. because they still wanted to have the iconic "fall" scene from the comics. so, in the end, gwen becomes powerless. she's mid fall. she can't do anything. she has to wait for peter to save her, in the end.

it's infuriating because captain stacy's death is unfalteringly heroic. he dies to save peter.

gwen puts herself in the line of fire to save peter. in the same way her father did. but she's robbed of the heroic framing her father gets because in the end, she has to be saved. in the end, it isn't framed like she saved peter. it's framed like peter failed to save her.

so we get a peter parker pity party instead of actually, what should be a beautiful, heroic send-off for gwen stacy, who became a hero despite every man trying to sideline her.

tl;dr tasm gwen deserved the same heroic framing her father got but hollywood messed up again because they don't know how to do female hero stories

#sci talks movies #gwen stacy #sorry. i think about this a lot. #on paper i think tasm2 is really interesting. ON PAPER. #there's really so much food there. but it's such a bad movie. #but it made me start the blog so what hey. #i think about it a lot. i could do so many video essays about tasm2.

[gremlingottoosilly]

in if you need to be mean, would the reader ever try to escape? and if she did, how would konig react? thinking about like, she planned for a few months how would she escape him, and she feels very conflicted bc she loves him, but she wants freedom and thats the only thing konig would never give her. so when hes away she takes the car and just goes. i dont know where, but shes so desperate te be free again to do whatever she likes without him hovering and always by her side trying to control what she does! would he feel sad? would he be devastated? would he go after her? i know that theres like a 1% chance of it happening but im so curious about how he would react and how it would change their relationship.

anyway, love your fanfics gremlin you're a genius!!! 🫶

Konig made everything in his power to prevent her from escaping without locking her up and breaking her legs, but it doesn't mean he won't do it.

He refuses to let her study German because he moved her to this foreign country without her knowing the language, and he specifically chose a distant tiny town in the middle of the Austrian woods, where not a lot of people know English and therefore, it would be hard for her to communicate. She doesn't have his car keys or a driver's license, he didn't leave her a lot of cash, so she forced to use his cards with updates of withdrawal and spending sent to his account, and she also just has a dependant visa that wouldn't allow her to do independent anyway. Her only way would be speaking to the police and hoping that they would start the investigation. It would be really hard because, well, Austria doesn't really care about immigrant's problems unless it's an international scandal, and Konig would know anyway - because he has cameras in the house, which he doesn't even hide, and if the investigation would die down, or his girl wouldn't go to the police, he wouldn't really break the contract and run to her immediately. He has quite a few friends around, especially if Krueger or Klaus are around and not on deployment with him, so he could ask them to go and visit his...wife. She is scared and a bit hysterical because of the foreign country, so she can tell weird things about kidnapping and escaping, they shouldn't listen to her! Konig won't be so nice when he returns. He really wanted to play this fantasy of having cute little housewife, nice house and a girl that is absolutely in love with him. He knows that you like him, at least, that you didn't want to escape, you're just silly! He infantilised you before, mostly because of the age difference, but it would be even harsher now. You are not allowed to leave the house, he often simply locks you in the bedroom so you won't have anything to do besides waiting for him to return with groceries and fuck you into the mattress. He didn't want to break you leg, but if you keep resisting, he might kinda push you a bit further. He would assign you a no-nonsense older caretaker so you would have company and help while your leg is broken! She also thinks that you have some sort of weird mental illness that made you paranoid and afraid of your husband, so you can't even get help from her. You can forget about going out while he is on deployment either. And he is very reluctant to let you out, even with him, the first few months after your attempted escape. The world is too dangerous for you anyway,

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig

[sturniozo]

Savage Love part Nine

Matt Sturniolo x reader Mafia AU

Masterlist

Kyler looks up at me in disbelief. He leans back in his chair. “You what?” He asks with a laugh.

“I want to quit the piece.” I repeat.

“The Matt Sturniolo piece? The piece that would be our biggest set as a paper, you’re quitting it?”

“Yes.” My heart begins to race as Kyler realizes I’m not joking and his face begins to become angrier.

“You’ve put out the least amount of articles out of everyone in this paper, you’re pieces are shit that no one wants to read, and the one good thing you could bring to this paper you’re quitting?”

I begin to feel smaller and I nod slowly, a lump forming in my throat preventing me from speaking.

“Get out. I’ll give the piece to someone else, you’re done. You contribute nothing to this paper. You’re fired.”

I flinch at his words. I didn’t think I’d get fired for this. “Fired?” I ask again.

“Without that Sturniolo piece you contribute nothing of interest to the paper! Either do the piece or pack your things.” Kyler stares at me waiting for my answer.

“I’m not finding anything on Matt because there’s nothing that needs to be found.” I say calmly. “My desk will be cleared within an hour.”

I turnaround and take a deep breath, holding back tears. I loved this job. I loved working as a journalist alongside my best friend. I loved working so close to home.

I get to my desk and start gathering all my things. Emma looks at me confused.

“What are you doing?” She asks as she gets up from her seat.

“I didn’t want to do the Sturniolo piece. Kyler fired me.” I say trying to stay calm as I pack up my things.

“Why don’t you want the piece, it’s amazing, it’s a game changer, a life changer. You have the chance to see the life of a Mafia boss and tell the story to hundreds of people. Why don’t you want that?” She asks.

I just stare at her for a moment and the realization dawns on her.

“Oh. Oh. Oh my god. No, tell me you’re not-“

“He’s not as bad as everyone made him out to be. I’ve never seen him do or imply anything about actually being in the Mafia, as far as I know he’s the head of some company that transports goods and-“

“Listen to yourself! He’s definitely the head of the mafia, y/n! Head of a company? Transports goods? He’s a drug trafficker and a suspect in at least a dozen murders-“

“He isn’t a suspect-“

“Because he has dirt on everyone! No one will prosecute against him because they’re scared of him.”

“Or because he didn’t do it!”

“Y/n listen to yourself!”

“You don’t know him, Emma!” I snap at her. “He’s not the kind of guy who could do those things. He’s kind and gentle and he’s never hurt me or anyone that-“

“Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say!”

“Emma he’s not a bad person.”

“What about all the things you had told me about? How he took you to his house because he thinks someone could be watching you? That someone might hurt you to get to him?”

“I’m sure it’s more business than physically hurting me-“

“Y/n! What is going on with you? You told me everything-“

“But you don’t know the context to it, I don’t even know the context to most of the conversations I heard.”

“Y/n, listen to me! That man has been a suspect in over a dozen murders, he’s a suspect in a drug trafficking ring, as well as illegal cargo from other countries.”

“How do you know he’s an actual suspect?” I ask her.

“I sleep with the chief of police regularly, and he’s got lots of shit against Matt Sturniolo, but that man has the police I er his thumb, I’m telling you. That’s why they can’t convict.”

“Emma-“

“Y/n, you can’t believe the shit you’re saying.”

I look down and sigh. “I know.” I say softly.

“Y/n, dont tell me you actually…”

“It’s not like that, I swear, I just… I don’t want to write something against him. He keeps his occupation secret for a reason.”

“You really care about him?” Emma asks and I just nod. “You know, we should have guessed you’d not be able to do this without catching feeling for him. Hooking up just isn’t who you are.”

I laugh softly. “I know. Can you help me get my shit out of here before Kyler freaks out about me still being here?”

“Yeah, I’ll help you.”

Emma helps me pack my things into a few boxes.

“Want help bringing them to your car?” She asks.

“Shit, no, I didn’t drive here.”

“What?”

“Matt drove me, fuck I forgot…”

“I’d drive you home but if Kyler saw me gone-“

“No, I know, I’ll just… I’ll figure something out.”

I sit in my chair and rub my head. As close as I live to work, I don’t feel like I could carry three boxes all the way home or make multiple trips before the paper closes for the night.

“I’ll just call Matt.” I mumble.

“Matt?!” Emma’s head shoots up in surprise.

“Yeah he’ll come get me.” I press call on Matt’s contact and put the phone to my ear.

Matt almost immediately picks up. “Hey, baby, is something wrong?” He asks. “I just dropped you off a few hours ago, I thought you worked until 5?”

“Matt… can you come get me?” I ask.

“I’m kinda busy right now babydoll, but I’ll send a driver to you. What’s this about, what happened?”

“I’ll explain it all when I see you.”

“Was it bad? What happened baby?”

“I’ll explain it later, Matt.”

“Okay, well I’m sending a driver to take you back to my place.”

“But I need to stop at my apartment.”

“I can’t have you there, my guy hasn’t done a full sweep to see if someone’s watching you or not.”

“How come I can go to work but I can’t go home? If they watched me at all they’d know where I work.”

“I keep a guy staked out at your paper too, dollface, just in case.”

I pause for a moment. “What.”

“It’s just a precaution.”

“Matt-“

“The driver will be there in a few minutes, hold tight, dollface.”

“Matt-“

Matt hangs up and I’m left staring at my phone.

“What was all that about?” Emma asks and I sigh.

“He’s just… worried about me and he’s protective.” I say and stand up, grabbing my boxes of belongings. “I’ll talk to you later, Emma.” I say as I carry the boxes to the elevator.

I go to the lobby and wait by the door. Soon enough a black car much like Matt’s pulls up. The driver steps out and I immediately know it’s someone that works for Matt, as the guy is in a full black suit with sunglasses and an earpiece like a spy of some sort. He walks over to me and takes the boxes from me. He open the truck of the car and sets the boxes inside and I get into the car.

The ride to Matt’s place is silent. The only sound is the sound of the car driving and the low music playing from the speakers in the car. I stare out the window not saying a word the whole time. Partly because I’m unsure what to say, and partly because there’s nothing to say.

Tags: @stargirlsturniololover @sturniolobessed @eyelessdemon00 @sturnioloenthusiast @sturniolopookie @urmommysbathroom @qwertytit @whatever1021 @chrisfavoritepepsi @stramboli4life @sturniolosreads @timmyscomputer @iloveneilperry

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo edit #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #nick sturniolo x reader #nick x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x fem reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fanfiction

[lalixlizzie]

Sky full of stars

_______________________________________________

Regina Mills x fem!Reader

A/N: This is the first time I write something like this, sorry if you don't understand something, English is not my first language but I try to write the best I can.

Warnings: None.

_______________________________________________

It was a starry night, the moon was shining brighter than usual, everyone was having fun at Granny's. It had become very common for you and them to meet almost every day in that cafeteria.

They are celebrating that they prevented another curse from being carried out in Storybrooke, to be honest you think everyone is already tired of how repetitive this situation is. You think everyone needs a break.

Everyone is having a good time, but there's someone you can't get out of your head. Regina was the only person who didn't seem to enjoy the night.

She was sitting alone at one of the tables in the place looking out the window. You didn't like that, she should be happy and celebrating, not sad looking out the window waiting for it to be time to leave. You took a deep breath and went straight towards her.

“Hey.” You said as you reached her table. Mills looked up and her eyes connected with yours.

Those beautiful almond eyes were now looking at you. Oh god, you could faint right now. You never had the chance to tell Regina how you feel about her, whenever you wanted to try, things happened that prevented you from doing so.

“Hey...” She looks at you confused and then looks at the others. “ I thought you were celebrating with Emma and the Charmings ”

“It's tiring, they smile all the time, it seems like something is happening to them. ” You joke, to which Regina laughs. You never get tired of hearing her laugh. “Can i sit?”

The mayor nodded and with her arm indicated the place where you could sit. As you do so, she looks at you with a smile.

“ Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face? ” You began to touch your face to get rid of what made the brunette smile.

“No...” Mills moved closer to you to stop your hands, moving them away from your face as she intertwined her fingers with yours.

You started to get nervous, but you couldn't show it. What happens if she realizes that you like her? Will she talk to you again? You did not know. But after asking a thousand questions in your head, there was something that made you return to the conversation.

“Henry told me he had a lot of fun with you the other day. ”

“Oh, I just took him to the arcade and then we went for ice cream. It wasn't a big deal.”

“It's not what you did, but what he told me you told him”

You said a lot of things to that kid, you don't really remember the things you guys talk so much about. Emma almost always asks you to take care of him for a while while she finishes paperwork at the police station.

And that was a problem, many things went through your mind again. What could Henry have said to his mother?

You had no problem letting Emma know, since you have been friends for years and always tell each other things, no matter how stupid they are. And Henry liked to be part of your conversations, so you always included him.

But Regina... She wasn't the same as Emma.You don't know if she would take things well or badly.

“And... what did he tell you? ” You said as best you could, you weren't going to show that you were nervous.

“He told me something funny, that you like me.”

You swore you were going to kill that kid. Your cheeks began to burn, you were embarrassed, surely the former Evil Queen could see it.

“Everyone likes you, Regina. You are charming and a very good person. ” You tried to make an excuse so she wouldn't see the obvious.

She started shaking her head. “Not in a friend way. He said you were in love with me.”

“Oh...” These moments are the ones you wish the earth would swallow you and disappear. You never thought you'd feel this way. “I'm so sorry, I don't know how he could say that to you, I've never said that. I'm really sorry if you felt uncomfortable, I didn't mean...”

You couldn't finish your excuse because you felt the softness of Mills's lips on yours. You felt a million butterflies in your stomach. You couldn't believe what was happening. Did she silence you with a kiss? Like in the movies? Oh God.

After a few seconds, Regina separated her lips from yours and you just stared at each other, no one spoke for minutes. You could only concentrate on the moon reflected in the brunette's beautiful eyes.

“Does this... Does this mean anything to you?” You asked, afraid that the answer would be "no."

“Of course yes, I also have feelings for you. I thought Henry told you.”

“He didn't.” You said quickly.

“Well, now you know it.” She came a little closer to you, and gently and delicately placed her hands on your cheeks, and then kissed you.

#ouat #once upon a time #regina mills #regina x reader #regina mills x reader #the evil queen #regina mills imagine #once upon a time imagine #ouat imagine

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 20

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | AO3

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Robin and Steve shower together the next morning.

And that's - fine, it's fine.

He was right about Steve being a resourceful guy, it seems, because he can faintly hear the sound of smacking and giggling and an oh my God before he finishes getting dressed and books it out of Steve's bedroom. He doesn't have to feel guilty about preventing them from their celebratory activities anymore, at least, and he just -

He just won't think about it.

It doesn't matter what he wants, or what he thinks he might be able to have. It matters that he wants to be in this party, that he wants to keep Steve and Robin, and you can't have two romantic soulmates, it's just not -

"What?" he mutters viciously to himself. "It's just not done? When have you ever cared about that?"

When it comes to this, apparently. Maybe you can have two romantic soulmates, maybe Steve wouldn't mind, but Eddie, well. Eddie can't, and there's too many other things he needs to deal with right now to be able to focus on figuring out what the gut feeling that it'd be a disaster really means.

He gets coffee started for them instead, makes himself a bowl of oatmeal, and his knee is only bouncing in agitation a little when Steve and Robin come down to the kitchen.

Steve notices it immediately, because of course he does. "You worried about telling your uncle?"

Eddie grimaces. "Worried about a lot of things right now, man, it's getting to be kind of a list."

Steve tips his head. "Eh, fair."

Robin hums as she pours herself a cup of coffee. "Want to talk about it?"

He opens his mouth to immediately decline, then pauses, actually considering that. No way in hell is he going to try to process anything related to their soulmate arrangement with them, but… everything else? Yeah, he could actually see that.

"Not right now," he says finally. "I'm gonna have enough talking to do with Uncle Wayne later."

They don't push him. Instead, they eat breakfast together, with Robin's foot pressed up against his and Steve's hand on his knee. He kind of wants to say something about it, but he doesn't know whether what comes out of his mouth will be a thank you or a joke to try to brush it off, and he's honestly not sure he wants to draw attention to it.

Eddie's always been all easy, casual physical contact, hands gripping shoulders and arms slung around his friends and playful shoves or nudges, but this is -

This isn't loud and boisterous and purposefully over the top, this is quiet and sincere and done almost on instinct.

It's strange, how different it feels.

And how much it works to calm him down, despite both of them being the source of one of his swirls of chaotic thoughts.

After breakfast, Robin hugs him goodbye and they head out. Steve's going to pick Dustin up, drop Robin off at the high school, and then hopefully come back with Uncle Wayne. The rest of the hoard is making themselves scarce today, so Eddie doesn't have an audience for seeing his uncle again.

He'd been a little surprised that there wasn't an argument about looping his uncle in, but Nancy had pointed out that if they didn't tell him something soon, his insistence on putting up missing person fliers was likely to put some kind of pressure on the police to pursue Eddie's case more.

Eddie'd been all for not having a gaggle of teenagers around for this before, but now that he's alone, just waiting - look, he might not want an audience when he has to ask his uncle if he hates him now, but he kind of wants one in the leading up to it so he doesn't have to keep thinking about all the different possible ways this is going to go.

Logically, he knows that Uncle Wayne isn't going to hate him. He stopped doubting the love his uncle had for him a long time ago. Jesus knows Eddie's tested him in so many ways since then, but it's never been this.

It's never been a dead girl in their living room, and Eddie no where to be found.

Even if he doesn't think Eddie did it - Eddie still just left, just left him to deal with all of that, and then he went back and helped destroy their home a little more, made sure it was really uninhabitable.

He wouldn't blame his uncle for having some misgivings about everything, about him.

Eddie's not sure how long he's been sitting there when he hears the unmistakable sound of his uncle's truck. It's a sound he's heard almost every day since he was twelve, usually when he was blearily shoving cereal into his mouth or burrowing deeper in his blankets to steal just a little bit more sleep. It's always been accompanied by the crunch of gravel, first under the tires and then from Uncle Wayne's footsteps, and hearing it pull smoothly into the Harrington driveway now feels almost as otherworldly as that first trip into the Upside Down.

He's been in a little bit of a bubble, here. He doesn't feel like he's being overly dramatic when he thinks that the last time he heard his uncle's truck, he was a different person than he is now, and those two lives colliding is kind of a head trip.

His hands are trembling a little, and he stands up partly just for something to do, something other than sit there.

What if this is it? What if this is finally the thing that's too much, what if Eddie finally went too far, after all these years? There's a lot of things that he knows his uncle has forgiven him for, but a murder charge is asking an awful lot, what if he -

His uncle comes into view.

Steve is saying something, and there's some kind of response from Dustin, but Eddie can't hear any of it.

"Hi Uncle Wayne," he manages to get out.

Uncle Wayne drops the boxes he'd been carrying. They must have been empty, because there's barely a sound as they hit the floor, but Eddie doesn't really care, because his uncle is striding across the room in long, purposeful steps. He's there between one breath and the next, strong arms wrapped around Eddie as he pulls him into the kind of hug he hasn't done since Eddie got too tall to be tucked in under his chin.

His uncle's breath hitches, and it hits him that he's crying, and oh, fuck, that does Eddie in completely. He clings to him, trying his best to stifle his own sobs, hearing them come out in little hiccuping gasps anyway.

"We'll, uh, just go start loading things," he hears Steve say, and he registers the sound of footsteps walking away and the garage door opening and closing, but it just makes him hold onto his uncle tighter.

Somehow, they find their way to the couch, and then Eddie does have to pull away. He's healing up nicely, but there isn't a good angle for him to stay in his uncle's hold for much longer without something hurting.

Uncle Wayne notices it, of course, and his eyes scan over Eddie as they sit down. Eddie watches him register the dark sweats, the gray sweatshirt - neither of which are his, obviously - then move back up to his face.

"Are you hurt?" Uncle Wayne asks.

"I'm healing up," Eddie replies. "It, uh. It's kind of a long story. And a pretty unbelievable one."

Uncle Wayne raises his eyebrows. "Son, they've been trying to tell me that you hurt that girl and those other kids. No matter what you have to tell me, it's never going to be more unbelievable than that."

Tears sting at Eddie's eyes again, and he has to look down to try to get himself under control enough that he can actually talk.

Then he tells him.

Not everything - there's a lot of stuff that happened before spring break that he still isn't super clear on, and some things that aren't his to tell, but he gets out the basics. Hawkins Lab doing shady things, how they've been behind the strange deaths and the mall burning down, the existence of the Upside Down, the real story behind the Creels, that it was Henry Creel behind the deaths. The NDAs that the party had to sign, how everything's been covered up. How the others found him hiding, looked after him, looped him into everything. Nancy's vision, their plan to stop it, how it only half worked. Steve getting injured, Steve getting the others to stand up for him at the town hall meeting, Steve carrying him out of the Upside Down, Steve having him stay here to recover and stay hidden - so much of Steve that he has to clamp his mouth closed when he catches himself, cheeks flushed.

Uncle Wayne looks at him for a long moment. "Anything else you want to tell me?"

Eddie groans. There's no way his uncle doesn't already know, he clearly just wants to make Eddie say it. "Steve's my soulmate. Platonic soulmate," he adds quickly. "Steve's got two, and he's already found his romantic soulmate."

Uncle Wayne's brows draw down a little, like he's not sure if he should be concerned about that or not.

"It's okay," Eddie says without thinking, then has a brief moment of panic before he realizes it's not a lie. "It's okay," he says again. "I, uh. It's been good here. You know, apart from all the stitches and hiding from the police and not knowing if you were okay."

Uncle Wayne huffs out a disbelieving little laugh. "Oh, apart from that, huh?"

"Sorry about the trailer," Eddie says, very quietly.

"Oh, son," Uncle Wayne murmurs gruffly, reaching out to grip his shoulder and give him a gentle shake. "Now that I know you're okay, there's not a single thing in there that I can't afford to be without, all right?"

Eddie nods, afraid he'll sound too choked up if he says anything.

"I'm glad you're doing good here," Uncle Wayne says. "The fuss has died down, with the earthquake and all, but that Carver kid's got a small handful of diehards who're looking to stir up trouble."

Eddie grimaces. "Do me a favor and don't tell Steve that?"

His uncle raises one brow. "You trying to hide stuff from your soulmate?"

"It's not that I want to, it's just… Steve's protective. He's already saying that he won't claim his soulmate rights if I get found out before they work out a plan, that he'll go with me to prove I'm telling the truth."

Uncle Wayne frowns. "And you don't want him to?"

Eddie huffs out a laugh, dry and humorless. "I don't think the truth is going to matter to them much if they don't have someone else ready to blame them on, and I don't want Steve to go through that for nothing."

His uncle gives a thoughtful little hum. "You ask me, seems like Steve doesn't think it'd be for nothing."

Ugh, he should have known his uncle would be on Steve's side. He can't honestly say he minds, considering their side is the side that wants to get Eddie's name cleared, but still. "Yeah, well, like I said, Steve's just protective."

"Just protective." Uncle Wayne raises one eyebrow. "You gonna look me in the eye and tell me it ain't because that boy cares about you?"

Eddie can feel himself flushing almost immediately. Well, yeah. It's obvious Steve cares about him. They haven't dropped any kind of words about it yet - he doesn't think either of them are ready to actually say it, or to hear it - but Steve's actions kind of speak for themselves, and Eddie hopes that his own actions have done the same.

"No," Eddie admits. "I'm not going to tell you that."

He fiddles with the straps on his wrist brace, and his uncle - always able to figure out when there's something more going on - waits patiently.

"It's not my story to tell," Eddie says finally. "But Steve has been through a lot. He says it'd be fine, and I know he believes that, but - he also sat there with a straight face and told me he knows how to take a beating and keep going, and he'd rather it be him than any of us."

Surprise colors Uncle Wayne's expression for a moment, and then something in his eyes goes tight. Eddie recognizes that look. It's something like the one he'd gotten when he found out something that happened to Eddie - usually something that his dad taught him, or the handful of times his mom had gotten so drunk he'd had to watch over her in the bathroom, or the times he'd almost had a deal go bad. The things that his uncle's always said no kid should have to go through.

"This has been happening since 83," Eddie admits quietly. "They've all been dealing with this alone."

His uncle twists to look at the garage door for a long moment before turning back. "You call me if you get found," he says, more serious than Eddie's ever seen him. "You hear me? I'll be right there with the both of you."

Eddie swallows roughly, nodding.

"Promise me," Uncle Wayne insists. "No matter what it is, no matter what kind of thing happens - you call me. None of you are alone."

It takes Eddie a moment to get his voice back, but then he manages to get out, "I promise."

He'll have to talk it over with the others, of course, but he's pretty sure Steve and Robin are already on board, and he's got confidence that the three of them can convince the rest of the party.

Which is, admittedly, a little bit of a trip - that he's part of a monster hunting group now, that when he thinks about deciding as a party it's real. Ridiculously, that gets a little bit of a smile tugging at his lips.

Uncle Wayne looks closely at him. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"We're not alone anymore, either," he says, hears it come out almost shy, and makes a face at himself. "Just, uh. They've kind of decided I belong to them, and I'm not going to be the one to tell Nancy Wheeler or Erica Sinclair no, so."

"Good," his uncle says decisively, as if that's that, which -

Well.

Eddie guesses it is.

Uncle Wayne claps his hands on his knees, pushes himself up. "Let's see how those two have managed to get along."

He ambles over to the garage door, sticks his head out and calls for Steve to get on back in here.

There must be some kind of argument - Eddie can't hear it, but he's assuming there is, because somehow Steve manages to get Dustin to stay in the garage while he comes in alone.

Eddie stays where he is on the couch, trying to tell himself that there's no reason to be nervous. Steve'd talked to his uncle before, had managed to convince him to come to his house, but - that'd been before Uncle Wayne knew everything, knew they were soulmates.

It doesn't help that Steve's clearly a little nervous when he comes back in, too - or maybe he's picking up on Eddie's own nerves.

"So," Uncle Wayne says, looking Steve up and down. "You the one my nephew was always talking with?"

Eddie watches Steve's throat work as he swallows.

"Yes, sir," Steve says. And then he gets this look in his eyes - one that Eddie recognizes, that says he's terrified of what he's about to do but he's doing it anyway. "I'm the other little jackass with no impulse control."

Eddie lets out a squawk, the sound of which is drowned out by his uncle straight up guffawing, loud wheezing laughs that break the tension in the air.

Steve looks far too pleased with himself, even though his smile is this little tentative thing, so Eddie kicks out his foot to nudge Steve's ankle with his toes.

"I told you not to try to charm my uncle!" he protests.

"Charm me, huh?" Uncle Wanye asks, raising his eyebrows at Steve, who looks a little sheepish.

Uncle Wayne shakes his head. "Boy, you brought my kid back to me, and from what Eddie says, you've been keeping him safe here. There's nothing else you could do that'd top that, not as long as you keep treating him well."

Steve's quiet for a moment, and Eddie's pretty sure he wants to protest that it wasn't just him, but then he just nods.

"I'll take care of him. I promise," Steve says, holding out his hand.

Uncle Wayne reaches out to take it, giving it a firm shake before he pulls Steve into a hug.

Eddie can't see his uncle's face, but Steve looks at him all wide eyed and stiff, and Eddie just grins at him, shrugging.

He's already gearing up to tease him, but - then Steve takes a deep, shuddering breath, and hugs Uncle Wayne back, arms winding around him and holding on tight, and something about the sight of it makes Eddie avert his eyes.

Steve's parents haven't been home this whole time. Eddie hasn't asked - no one's mentioned it, like everyone's used to them being gone, and he kind of figures if Steve had anything more to say other than what he already had, other than what's obvious, he would.

But now he makes a note to mention it to his uncle, later. Now he thinks that as much as he's been adopted into this party - maybe his soulmate needs to be folded into Eddie's own little family of two.

They don't talk about it when they separate. Uncle Wayne just slaps Steve on the back, tells him to go finish up loading the truck, and he'll be out in a minute.

But when his uncle turns back to him, there's a look in his eye that tells him maybe Eddie won't have to mention anything at all.

"Maybe you could stay for dinner?" Eddie finds himself asking.

Uncle Wayne clears his throat, the way he does when he's feeling a little emotional about something. "Your boy already asked me, but it's better if I don't stay long. I don't want anyone to get to wondering what I'm doing lingering here."

It's a good point, Eddie knows it is, but he feels like he's fifteen and pissy again. "I hate this," he mutters. "I hate you being at that school."

Uncle Wayne cracks a grin. "Oh, I won't be. I've only been there trying to find a trace of you. Now that I know you're safe? Our insurance will be putting me up in the best hotel room Hawkins has. I knew paying the extra for earthquake coverage would come in handy."

And fuck if that doesn't make him feel worlds better.

"I'll leave the number with your friends," Uncle Wayne promises.

Eddie stands to hug him again, burying his face in his neck and holding on as tight as he can, like he never wants to let go.

Eventually, though, they have to pull away, and his uncle heads out into the garage.

There's a few beats of silence, as Eddie pulls in one ragged breath after another, trying to get himself back under control.

Then the garage door opens again, and Steve comes back in.

"Everything okay?" Eddie asks, unable to stop himself from feeling a little jittery again.

"Fine, Dustin went back to the school with Wayne. I'll follow them in a bit to pick up him and Robin, I just, uh. Wanted to check on you," Steve says, making a little face at himself. "How did it go?"

Eddie can't help but be a little touched. "It went good. He believed me."

Steve nods. "Like you thought he would?"

Eddie - can't actually agree to that, he realizes. He's not confident enough that it would be the truth.

When he stays silent, Steve seems to get it.

"Will you tell me?" Steve asks, which - apparently is now their code for I'm not going to ask directly so you don't have to lie but I'll listen if you want.

Or at least, Eddie's going to assume it is, since he said it to Steve first.

"I just-" Eddie starts, then pauses to take a deep breath. "I know I'm a lot. There's a lot that my uncle's had to put up with, cause of me. I pushed him a lot the first year I moved in with him, trying to figure out what would be too much for him, but it never was. I guess I wondered if maybe this would be it."

"But it wasn't?" Steve asks.

Eddie shakes his head. "No. It wasn't."

Steve just looks at him for a moment, like he's considering something. Then, "You're not too much, Eds."

Fuck.

"Don't you start, man," Eddie warns teasingly.

Steve huffs out a laugh. "All right, all right. Let's get you upstairs before I head out."

He thinks about protesting, but really, he's kind of grateful to be able to lean on Steve a little. Eddie doesn't want to admit to overdoing it, but he's pretty sure he overdid it.

"Oh, hey, I got something for you," Steve says once they're in the bedroom.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "But you already got me my uncle," he teases. "You keep going like this and I'll get spoiled."

Steve rolls his eyes, but Eddie kind of means it. The longer he stays with Steve and Robin, the more he just. Kind of never wants to leave - or if he does, he wants Steve and Robin to move with him, he wants to stay in the same room and sleep in the same bed and have their toothbrushes in the same holder and his Yoohoo next to Steve's Gatorade and Robin's grape soda in the fridge.

It's stupidly domestic, which means Eddie's mostly trying to ignore it and just enjoy it while he has it.

Still, Steve's ears are a little bit pink, which gets him off that train of thought and makes him perk up. "Wait, seriously? When did you even have time to get me anything?"

"I got it a long time ago." Steve heads over to his desk, pulling open a drawer and rummaging around in it. Then he holds out a wooden box, pressing it into his hands. "Wanted to give it to you while we're alone."

Sure enough, it looks old. The wood is worn and a little dusty, and the hinges squeak a little as he opens it. It opens almost like a book, unfolding in a way that would make it easy to prop up on display - and when he gets a better look at it, it clearly is meant to display. There's a glass lining set in each half of the box, like two picture frames, except they hold a small collection of preserved butterflies.

It's, well. It's pretty fucking cool, and Eddie looks up at Steve, speechless.

Steve sits on the bed, rolling his pant leg up to the knee. He gestures at it, and Eddie can just make out Butterflies are so annoying, I hate them.

What.

That's.

Eddie just keeps looking at him, afraid that if he says anything it's going to be to tell Steve that god, he loves him.

He loves him.

"Oh," he manages to get out, shaky and breathless.

"Yeah," Steve says. "That was back when my dad still gave me advice sometimes and I gave a shit about following it. He said you should always have gifts ready for your soulmate, so they know you're thinking of them. Pretty sure he meant like diamonds and flowers and shit to bring back after you've been gone, but, you know. I figured this would be the kind of thing you like."

"You figured right. Fourteen year old me would have gone nuts over this," Eddie says, running his fingers over the glass. "Thank you, Steve. This, uh. Shit, this really means a lot."

Steve smiles at him, all pleased and fond, and the silence rests nice and comfy between them for a moment.

Then Steve pulls in a breath and lets it out, and Eddie's pretty sure he recognizes that particular blend of uncertainty and determination, and oh.

Oh no.

"Steve," he whispers. It comes out a little desperate, half a warning and half a plea.

He's not sure what he means by it. He's not even sure he knows what Steve's going to say - it could be a million things, honestly, just because Eddie is painfully aware that he can't keep convincing himself that their bond is at all platonic, at least on his end, doesn't mean that Steve's thinking the same thing.

Eddie just knows that he can't. He's not ready for this, he's not ready for any of it.

Steve seems to get something out of Eddie just saying his name, though, because he swallows, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "Can we just think about it?"

Eddie finds himself nodding before he really realizes. "Yeah," he agrees. "Yeah, okay."

"Okay," Steve repeats.

Steve heads out to go get Dustin and Robin after that, and Eddie gets settled on the bed, taking another dose of meds and staring at the little preserved butterflies.

Think about it.

Fuck, everything has just been so much these last few weeks, and Eddie'd really, really like it to just… not. He's exhausted, all wrung out and hollow, and he just wants to close his eyes and not think about anything, but.

He said he would, and he wasn't lying when he said it, so he guesses he has to.

It's not that he can't share Steve with Robin, not by a long shot. He's well aware that it's Robin sharing Steve with him - and he knows that even if it were the other way around, even if Steve and Robin were platonic soulmates and Steve and Eddie were romantic, it would still be Robin sharing Steve with him. Steve and Robin have something that goes deeper than anything, something that Eddie couldn't touch even if he wanted, and he… he kind of likes that. The part of Steve that is Robin is just what makes him Steve, and Eddie's pretty on board with that.

It's just that he knows himself. He knows that if he kisses Steve - if it starts being something they do, if they let themselves go there - he's going to want to be the only one that Steve kisses.

It's not fair, not to anyone, but it is what it is. He's not sure he can change that part of himself, not even for Steve. So it's just better if they don't go there.

Now he just has to figure out how he's going to tell that to Steve, without any of it coming out as a lie.

Up next: the platonic/romantic lines get even more blurry, and a much less pleasant house call

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Part 21

Tag list (always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #wayne munson #robin buckley #platonic soulmates stobin #just gonna extra emphasis the platonic since eddie is misreading things #steve and robin have zero boundaries #wayne munson uncle of the century #steddie soulmate au

[cherry-holmes]

Glimpse of a life with Javier Peña

Chapter 11

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: After being attacked, Javier felt guilty for put you in danger. He would do whatever it takes to keep you safe.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Previous chapter

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word count: +5.4k

Warnings: Mentions of injures and blood. Mention to violence typical of the series. I prefer to not give more details to prevent spoilers, but this is +18. You’re on your own, kids.

A/N: Hello! Chapter 11 finally here! Sorry for taking so long, I’m on finals in college so I’ve been studying, doing lots of homework and starting my thesis!🙈😬 But here I am, I hope you like it!

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Javier had never felt such intense fear in his entire life. Everything around him seemed to fade into the background as he fixated solely on your motionless body. His world moved in slow motion as he rushed toward you.

No, no, no... everything except you. He can't lose you, he just would never survive such thing.

He dropped to his knees beside you, his heart pounding so hard it could make a hole on his chest. But when he put his hands on you, relief washed over him. Your eyes were widened with fear and disorientation. You were shaking, you had scraped your chin, and your hands were cut from when you fell onto the sidewalk.

But you were fine. You were alive.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest as you both sat on the ground. As he gently held your face, his heart sank again when he saw the blood on your mouth. Quickly, he checked you and discovered that you had bitten yourself, likely from when you let yourself fall to avoid a bullet.

Javier held you tightly, feeling a rush of emotions. He was relieved you were alive, but anger and fear still coursed through him. He looked around, making sure the area was safe, before helping you stand up.

"Come on, I need to get you out of here," he said urgently. He didn't want to stick around and risk another attack. Javier tried to pull you up, but when you attempted to stand, a sound of pain escaped your lips. "What is it?"

"N-no puedo," you mumbled. "Me duele mucho el tobillo." Without wasting more time, Javier leaned in to wrap an arm around your back and the other behind your knees, lifting you gently as he carried you into the restaurant; it seemed safer in there.

He sat you on the nearest table, still trembling from the shock. Javier crouched down in front of you, his eyes searching yours.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

You nodded weakly, trying to find your voice. "Creo... creo que si. Sólo asustada y me duele el tobillo, " you mumbled.

Javier took off your heel to check your ankle; it was already swollen.

As he focused on your injuries, you looked at your surroundings. People were scared, trying to process what had happened, the sound of police sirens growing increasingly closer. Then, you saw the truck, the bullet holes on the door, and the windows completely destroyed. If you paid enough attention, you could see the holes in the concrete wall of the building next to the truck. If you hadn't seen him before, you would be dead by now... Suddenly, the realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

"Javi?" Your quivering voice captured his attention, and then you broke down. The crying was unstoppable, you were shaking, sobbing, your heart racing with adrenaline.

Javier gently put his arm around you as your tears flowed. "Shh, it's okay," he whispered, his voice filled with reassurance. "I've got you. You're safe now," he held you for a while, letting you cry out the fear and stress that had built up.

By the time the police and paramedics arrived, you were calmer. You still had a slight tremor, but you had stopped crying.

Reluctantly, Javier left your side to speak with the police, who were already cordoning off the area. A young female paramedic began to tend to your wounds as you observed Javier's discussion with the authorities. He appeared so angry and frustrated, like a caged animal.

You noticed Steve and Trujillo, another colleague from the DEA, arriving and approaching to Javier, who engaged in an intense conversation with them, their faces etched with concern. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but it seemed like a heated discussion.

The paramedic continued her work, cleaning and dressing your minor wounds. She asked you a few questions, ensuring you weren't seriously injured, but mentioned that you would need an X-ray to assess the damage to your ankle. You answered her questions with shaky but coherent responses, explaining that you had fallen during the chaos.

As you sat there, you couldn't help but wonder what had just happened, it was all so surreal.

In less than a few minutes, your life seemed to became a completely chaos, you had seen your life passed before your eyes.

You didn't notice when the paramedic finally let you, you still had the metallic taste of your own blood on your mouth, turning your stomach, made you finally vomit. You moved to the side and began to throw up bile and stomach fluid. Javier returned immediately at your side, took back your hair and rubbed your back.

One of the employees of the restaurant gave you some water to rinse your mouth. You rinsed and spat out the bitter taste, feeling so embarrassed for all the mess you made.

"I'm-I'm sorry," you said, thick and quivering voice.

"It's okay, baby," Javier said, "Don't worry about that."

"I wanna go home, Javi," you pleaded, "Please let's just go home."

Javier continued to caress your hair as he finished helping you clean up. He couldn't bear the sight of you, broken and battered: the swollen bottom lip from the fall, your tired and scared eyes, your wounds on your face, and the stains of blood on your knees.

"I want to go home too, bonita, but we can't," he explained, and that caused you to start crying again. The fear and shock still had a tight grip on you.

"We have to go to the Embassy right now; it's safer," he insisted.

"She needs X-rays for her ankle, sir," said the paramedic, which prompted a brief discussion among the authorities and Javier. ''She must go to the nearest hospital.'' It was clear that you needed medical attention, but Javier didn't want to leave you alone in your fragile state, neither exposed you to another attack. After some deliberation, they decided that you could be transported to the embassy for medical care and further evaluation of your injuries.

Javier was relieved that he wouldn't have to leave your side. He continued to comfort you, whispering words of assurance and love as the paramedics prepared to transport you. It was a difficult and frightening experience, but you took solace in knowing that Javier was with you.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You spent the entire day at the hospital. While you needed to use bandages for your ankle and rest for at least two weeks, you were technically fine. The shock of the attack still weighed heavily on you. You couldn't help but wonder what might have happened if you hadn't seen it coming or if Javier had been in the truck...

Both the Bogotá police department and the DEA took the incident seriously, closing a section of the public hospital specifically for you. Their concern was evident, given the attack on one of their agents and the danger you had both faced.

When Messina and some other agents and police arrived at the hospital, Javier reluctantly left your side. He assured you that he had to talk with them in private but promised to return as soon as possible.

After the doctors determined the status of your ankle, Javier returned to your side, accompanied by Steve, Trujillo, and Messina, who looked stressed as always.

Javi moved closer to where you were lying in bed, one ankle elevated and bandaged. "Honey, we need to know exactly what happened. Can you do that?" His gentle and soft voice surprised everyone in the room. His colleagues from the police and DEA were used to seeing him as a tough and serious man, always focused on his job with a bad reputation as a playboy. However, you knew this sweet and caring side of him well.

"I was waiting for you in the truck," you explained, your hands sweating and shaking for recalling the traumatic event. "Everything seemed normal until a car stopped beside me. I don't know why I turned to look at it; I just did, and I saw this man pointing a gun at me." You remembered, "I reacted quickly, maybe by instinct, so I opened the door, and when I tried to step out, the gunfire began. So I just let myself fall."

Javier's grip thighening on your hand, giving you comfort.

"The man fired several shots, and I felt a sharp pain in my ankle as I fell to the ground," you said. "I was so scared and couldn't move. I thought he would come closer and finish me off."

Messina, Javier, and Steve, listened intently as you spoke, their faces a mix of concern and anger.

"Then, Javier came running, and he helped me get to safety," you added, your voice quivering with the memory.

Trujillo nodded and took notes as you described the incident in detail. "Was he driving, or was there someone else?" he asked.

"There was someone driving, but I didn't see him," you said.

"Did you identify the man?" Steve wanted to know, but you shook your head.

"Try to remember, sweetheart," Javi's hand caressed your hair, and his thumb brushed yours while holding your hand.

"He had a mustache..." you sounded like you were questioning.

"Okay," intervened Messina as she stood up, "If she doesn't remember, it could compromise the investigation," she pointed, and everyone agreed. "We are going to follow the lead Peña gave us, but we must manage this under the radar," she warned.

You furrowed your brow, and she intervened again, "The politics are clear: our agents and administrative employees shouldn't get involved with each other." You blushed. "I have to figure out how to manage with our superiors in the US while we solve this on our own."

Messina continued, "We can't jeopardize the mission by getting entangled in personal affairs. Our priority is to apprehend Pablo Escobar and dismantle the drug cartel." Her stern expression softened slightly, and she looked at you. "I understand that emotions can run deep in high-stress situations, but we must remain focused."

You nodded in understanding, despite the lingering sense of fear and unease from the attack.

When your boss and the other agents left the room, Javier, still by your side, gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

Javier sat down beside you, taking a deep breath, trying to regain some composure. He watched you with deep concern, his eyes lingering on the wounds on your body. With a gentle touch, he brushed a strand of disheveled hair away from your face.

"You were really brave back there, you know?" he said softly, his voice filled with admiration for your courage.

You managed a weak smile despite the pain and anxiety still coursing through you. "I had a good teacher," you replied. His eyes softened, and he leaned closer to plant a tender kiss on your forehead; then, a soft and gentle kiss on your injured lips.

"So," you said when he straightened up, "You think this was Diego's, don't you?"

Javi sighed as he scratched his forehead. "There's something I have to tell you."

You were actually nervous about what he could say. No more secrets, you both had promised. The words he just said seemed to break that agreement. From the look in his eyes, you could tell he knew it too.

He took a deep breath and met your gaze. "You deserve to know, and I should have told you before." You frowned, concern filling your eyes. Javier hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "You know that I went to see Helena," he said, as if he were disarming a bomb. It was true; you knew he had gone to see her after your previous breakup. "She told me that Diego has been linked to some of the people associated with the Medellín Cartel. We've been monitoring him closely because it's obvious they're using him to obtain information about the DEA and the government, taking advantage of the resentment he expresses for being fired."

Your mind raced as you tried to process this revelation. "I was more focused on protecting the work that had taken us so much effort to establish. And I was also trying to protect you," his voice suddenly cracked, and hurt was clearly visible in his eyes as he looked at your still-red eyes and the injuries on your beautiful body. "I didn't want to worry you, but now I know it was a mistake to keep it from you. I failed to protect you."

The weight of the situation settled in as he reached out to hold your hand, seeking your eyes. "I-I'm sorry," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotions, guilt filling his chocolate-brown eyes. "Please, forgive me. I couldn't protect you."

"Javi, no," you answered quickly, catching his hand between yours, then caressing his cheek with your thumb. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't know he was going to do such a thing."

"When I saw you lying there, I thought... fuck, I thought I had lost you," he confessed, his eyes filling with tears that ran down his face. "It felt like my own heart was about to stop..."

You couldn't hold back your own tears any longer. Emotions flooded over you, and you pulled him into a gentle embrace, his head resting on your shoulder as he cried.

''I'm here, Javi,'' you consoled him, ''I'm okay, I'm not gonna go anywhere.''

Relief, overwhelming and comforting, coursed through him as he realized you were still there, breathing, alive. It was a profound relief that washed away some of the guilt, but it couldn't erase the trauma you had endured. Javier wasn't one to cry. He didn't even remember the last time he did. He had always been so tough, pragmatic, not letting his emotions take over him. Stress, pressure, guilt, disappointment, fear, frustration; were things he put aside to avoid being blinded in his duties. However, he felt a sense of freedom when he found himself letting off steam in your arms.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After sending some police officers to check on Javi's apartment, you both were able to return home. It was already night, and you had a headache from all the shock, stress, and spending the entire day in a small hospital room. Javier hadn't had an car anymore, so Steve took you both on his own, and a couple of officials spent the night on the street checking for anything potentially dangerous.

You decided to take a soothing shower to wash away the stress of the day after brushing your teeth. However, with your injured ankle, you struggled to maintain your balance. The pain was a still sharp, and it was hard for you to stand for too long.

Javier, ever attentive, noticed your struggle. "What are you doing?" He rushed to your side, catching you when you were about to fell in the bathroom.

"I need a shower," you said as you couldn't bear your dirty, dusty clothes anymore.

He helped you sit over the toilet and get rid of the bandage. He was worried that you fell on the shower, so he proposed something. "How about we take a shower together? I can help you."

The idea brought a blush to your cheeks, but you couldn't deny that the prospect of sharing a shower with him sounded appearing. With a nod and a shy smile, you accepted his offer.

"That sounds nice," you said, feeling a mixture of shyness and anticipation.

He smiled, reaching out to take your hand. "Don't worry, I'll be very gentle," he gave you a playful wink.

Javier took off your clothes, one by one, gently, until you were completely naked in front on him. Then, he did the same with his own, and guided you into the tiny space of the shower.

Warm water ran over your body, relaxing your muscles, taking away the stains of soil and blood on your body. He took you by your waist to gave you balance as you washed your hair, and then his. You winced when the shampoo stung the scratches on your hands.

"Careful, baby," he whispered, his warm breath brushing your face as he looked down at you.

As you rinsed his hair, you couldn't resist tracing the path of the soap running down his body when he wasn't looking.

You couldn't resist the temptation to let your hands wander along his skin, tracing the contours of his body. He shivered slightly under your touch, and his gaze met yours with a playful yet longing look.

"You're a bit cheeky, aren't you?" he whispered, his voice tinged with desire.

A mischievous grin played on your lips. "Maybe."

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, and your bodies pressed against each other in the confined space, under the water.

He leaned down to kiss your lips, and your hands found support on his shoulders. Wet kisses were exchanged, your tongues meeting halfway, and you could feel his masculinity pressing against your lower belly.

Although he had been helping you not to put all your weight on your injured leg, you started to grow tired on your other leg. Javier noticed it and broke the kiss. He, turned off the shower and guided you out of the shower, wrapping an arm around your waist to pulling you up and taking you to his bed, leaving a path of water all over the floor.

"Javi, wait," you protested between giggles, "we're going to make a mess!"

"That's what I intend to do, bonita," he said, gently placing your body on the mattress, a devilish sparkle in his eyes.

He lay beside you, gazing into your eyes with a mix of desire and affection. His hands traced a path along your body, exploring your curves. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his fingers danced across your wet skin. Javier's lips found yours once more.

His fingers found their way to your core, splitting your already wet folds, tracing firm circles on your swollen clit. A gasp escaped your mouth in a shaking breath, your hand wrapping around his forearm by instinct.

"You like that?" He asked, voice so thick and low, close to your lips. You nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes. "Talk to me, baby, I love hearing you."

"Ye-yeah," your voice quivered, feeling his expert movements giving you pleasure. "I like it so much."

"That's right. Such a good girl, as always," he whispered, his tongue tracing your lower lip as his fingers gathered your arousal. "Spread your pretty legs wider for me."

As soon as you obeyed, two of his fingers found the way inside your pussy. You cried out a moan, as his fingers were so thick. Just one had the power to ruin you; two of them felt like too much, but you loved feeling overwhelmed by his touch. Javier Peña was simply addictive.

"Ja-Javi...," you whimpered, moving your hips involuntary to find his touch halfway as his fingers bumped in and out of you, making a wetting, obscene sound that made you blush.

"I know, bonita," he whispered on your ear, causing a shiver run down your body, goosebumps painting your still-wet skin. "I want you to cum on my hand before I fuck you right," his words made you clench around his fingers, making him hiss. You could feel his warm, hard cock against the bone of your hip, twitching with every soft moan that left your throat, pre-cum glistening on the tip.

As his fingers speeded up their movements, his thumb began to work on your clit. You archer your back, your body getting closer to his as your hands took his face, your pelvis turning to meet his, but he never stopped torturing you with his hand.

"Ahhh... ¡Javi!... Ahhh, yes!" you claimed, consumed by the pleasure. His fingers curled inside of you, finding that sweet spot. ''Oh, fuck!''

''C'mon, baby, cum for me,'' he encouraged, as a knot formed in your lower belly, spiraling down to your very core until you detonated in a soundless cry, ''There you go, baby,'' your orgasm convulsing through your body. For a moment, you forgot the pain in your ankle, your knees, the stress of the earlier incident; it was all love and passion. ''Open your mouth,'' he ordered.

Your lips parted, and his two fingers, coated in your own honey, found their way into your mouth. A moan escaped when you tasted yourself on your tongue. "Suck on it," he whispered, his eyes darkened with lust as your tongue played with his fingers. "That little mouth of yours feels really nice, mi amor."

With a slurping sound, he exchanged his fingers for his own lips pressed against yours, savoring the lingering taste of your arousal on your tongue.

With a swift move, he positioned himself on top of you, planting kisses on your neck, descending through your skin, sucking your nipples, licking the soft flesh of your tummy.

Javi kneeled in front of you, between your legs, lifting one of them to place a sweet kiss on your swollen ankle. Then, he reached for your hands and did the same on the scratches in your palms. His lips continued to explore your body, leaving a trail of tender kisses from your knees to your thighs. You could feel the warmth of his breath, and each touch was a soothing balm to the ache in your body.

As his lips reached higher, he met your gaze, eyes filled with a mixture of desire and adoration. "Eres tan hermosa," he whispered, his voice husky with intensity. "Te amo demasiado." You felt a shiver run down your spine, a response to both his words and the gentle caresses.

"Yo también te amo mucho," you answered. A lump formed in your throat, overwhelmed by the recent events and the passion and love you felt for the man in front of you.

Javier's eyes softened with genuine affection. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

His hand reacher to his nightstand for a preservative and when he was ready, rubbed the head of his cock along your core. Soft sighs escaped your lips as he teased you. Your hands went to his ass, forcing him against you. "Ple-please, Javi," you pleaded, burning cheeks and pleasure eyes staring at him.

"What is it, baby?" he whispered, his voice thick. You whimpered, pulling up your hips to meet his. He grinned devilishly. He loved having you plead for his cock, his fingers lingering on the delicate skin of your inner thighs. A smirk played on his lips as he watched the anticipation in your eyes.

"I need you," you confessed, desire evident in your voice. "Please, I want to feel you inside."

Without uttering a word, Javier aligned himself with your entrance. You cried out a moan as he buried himself into you in one swift, effortlessly movement.

Your nails dug on his back, his face found a place on the space between your neck and your hair as he growled with pleasure, feeling your walls clenching around his length. He loved that sweet pussy of yours, so warm and tight, and all his.

He waited a few seconds for you to adapted to him, but he was so desperate to fuck you that it was almost painful. All the adrenaline rush of the day, all those emotions, and the love he felt your you culminated in that passionate moment.

Javier moved to find a most comfortable position and then, he lost it. His hips thrust almost desperately against you, making you whimper and moan with intense pleasure as you felt his cock moving in and out of your dripping cunt.

Furthermore, the sight you had of him was like that of a Greek god. His strong arms bulged from holding your hips up to meet his, water still dripping from his hair to his neck and chest, drops twinkling between the freckles on his shoulders. His breath quivered, groans and grunts escaped through his lips with every thrust of his hips.

You swore you could feel him on the entrence of your cervix, he was balls deep on you.

Javi was delighted with the view of your bouncing tits, your blushed cheeks and nose, your pleading eyes filled with pleasure. His heart was racing, his brain shut down for an instant and his world reduced to you. He was ruined by you.

Your bodies moved in sync in a dance of desire. His hands explored your curves, leaving a trail of warmth and electricity. The room filled with the sound of your whispered words and filthy noises.

"Javiii..." you whined, feeling an intense pressure on your core, your body squirming in the sheets. It was too much, you barely could breath. "Ahhh, Javi, I-I'm so... close!"

His hands spread your legs wider in a rough movement, to make space to himself as he let his weight fell over you as he continue with his thrusts. One hand grasped around your neck, applying enough strength to silence your moans, but it felt so fucking good that made you pussy clenched and dripped around his cock, "Fuck, I love your pussy. It's all mine, you're all mine."

"I am, I am," you uttered as best as you could, "My pussy is only yours, Javier."

"My good fucking girl," he whispered, his lips found your and you open your mouth, welcoming his tongue. "I'm yours too, forever."

As his movements became errants and messy and desperately, both of your found your orgasms in synchrony. Your eyes rolled as your back arched for its own will, your fingers tangled in his hair as you said his name like a prayer, over and over again. Javi's back muscles clench with his own release, grunting as he filled the condom, forcing the last thrusts into your cunt as his balls quivered.

The bed was, as he said he wanted, a completely mess. Sheets wet with your cum, and pillows wet with the water of both your hairs.

As you lay together, tangled in the sheets, you traced his jawline with your finger. His eyes were closed, but he was awake. You both were still naked, tired, the smell of sex still lingering in the air.

He opened his eyes, and you could see determination in them, his fingers gently brushed against your cheek. "I won't let him get away with this," he declared, his voice low and resolute. "Diego will pay for what he did to you. I promise you that, mi amor."

You looked into his eyes, finding comfort in his unwavering commitment. "Please promise me you'll be careful. I don't want to lose you or that you do something stupid and ruin your career."

"I promise, bonita. I'll be careful."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You woke up to a soft kiss on your lips and the delicious aroma of crumbled eggs and coffee. As your eyes opened, you found Javi's gaze fixed on you, a warm and affectionate smile playing on his lips. "Good morning, bonita," he greeted you.

You stretched and yawned, feeling a mix of soreness and comfort from the previous night. "Morning," you replied, a smile forming as you took in the sight of him.

Javier leaned in for another tender kiss. "I've prepared breakfast," he announced, gesturing to the tray adorned with eggs, toast, and a steaming cup of coffee on the bedside table.

As you sat up, he handed you a glass of water along with an ibuprofen pill. "First things first," he said. You took the pill, and then he presented you with a much-needed cup of coffee.

Before you could utter a word, he began tending to the bandages on your ankle. The swelling had increased, accompanied by a prominent bruise. A twinge of pain coursed through you as he gently placed it on a pillow, covering it with an ice pack.

"I hope to be back in action by tomorrow," you said casually, taking a sip from your cup.

Javier, on the other side, furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?" he asked.

You looked at him, "I need to return to work," you answered.

"Baby, the doctor said you need at least two weeks to rest," he insisted.

"I can't," you replied, "I haven't even recovered from my sickness leave two months ago, and I have bills to pay."

"Bills for an apartment you barely live in now." He brought your hand to his lips, placing a tender kiss on your knuckles. "Look, mi amor, I can take care of the bills. I don't want you rushing back to work, especially after what happened."

You sighed, appreciating his concern but still feeling the weight of financial responsibilities. "Javi, I can't rely on you for everything. I need to stand on my own."

His gaze held a mixture of understanding and determination. "I get that, but right now, your well-being is my priority. Let me take care of you, at least until you're back on your feet."

You sighed, a feeling of guilt lingering on you. "It's not fair that you pay for two apartments; you have enough responsibilities with your own, and I know you send money to your dad."

"Well, then I don't have to pay for two apartments," he said. Although you felt relief, it seemed weird that he settled for it so quickly. You knew him; he was stubborn like a mule. You looked at him as if he had grown a third eye.

"So, I can get back to work tomorrow," you said, and he shook his head. "Then how am I supposed to pay my rent?"

"You won't," he answered. "You won't pay rent for an apartment you don't have." He looked at you with a determination that hinted at a decision made. "Move in with me," he suggested.

Your eyes widened, caught off guard by the proposition. "Javi, I—"

He gently interrupted, "I want you to live with me. You already spend every day and night here, and even when you slept there, I slept there too. So no more worrying about rent or bills. Just focus on healing and being with me."

"Are you sure?" You set aside the cup and stared right into his chocolate-brown eyes. "It's a big step, Javi."

He sat closer to you, taking both your hands into his. When he looked into your eyes, you saw in them the most confident look anyone had ever given you. "A hundred percent sure," he answered. Then, he moved a bit nervously, but the determination in his gaze still lingered powerfully as he said, "Listen, I've been thinking about us a lot, and yesterday... it put everything into perspective. Life is too short, and I love you so much." As he said those words, you felt like you went pale.

Is he about to...?

"I want to do things right with you. Moving in together is a big step, and there's no one else I'd rather take it with than you, bonita."

You didn't want to actually ask if he was, well, proposing because he wasn't doing it per se. You didn't want to push him to say something he didn't feel or plan, but your delusional side was about to explode with excitement and love, and you could only think about floating down the aisle to him.

However, when he spoke again, you felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"We're going to take things one step at a time. We've only been together for a few months, yet I already know that I love you," he assured you, and tears of love started gathering in your bright eyes. "You must know that I'm serious about us and our future. So, what do you say? Wanna live with me?"

You let out a nervous giggle, overwhelmed by his beautiful words, his willing to share a life with you. You were so damn in love with him.

"Yes!," you nodded and a big smile crossed his handsome features, "Let's do this."

He leaned in, sealing the agreement with a sweet and lingering kiss, and you couldn't help but feel that, despite the challenges, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Chapter 11.5

CHAPTER 12

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