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scuderiahoney · 3 months

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Puzzle Piece

Lando Norris x best friend!reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’re always drawn to Lando. He’s always happy to have you near him. Finally, the pieces might just click into place. Based off this request.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication

You turn up on your best friend’s doorstep, heels in hand, one of the straps of your dress falling down your shoulder. It only takes a light knock, and then you hear footsteps, the clock of the lock. Lando swings the door open, an amused smile already on his lips.

“Hi, hun,” he says in a teasing tone. “You’ve had a good night, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him. “Can I come in?”

“F’course,” he says, ushering you inside with a hand pressed to your upper back. “Did you walk here?”

You nod. He sighs. It’s a cycle. You can almost predict word for word what he’ll say next. Should’ve just called me-

“- I would’ve picked you up,” he says, as if he’s finishing your train of thought. “And you walked here barefoot? Are you-“

“Crazy?” You say, at the same time as him. “No. Just tired, ‘nd my feet hurt.”

You walk into the living room and collapse onto the couch with a heavy sigh. He does the same, sitting next to you. You shiver when his fingers brush against your shoulder, directing the strap of your dress back into place. He reaches up and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear after that. You lean into the touch.

“Did you have fun?” He asks.

He knows you were out with friends tonight, dinner and drinks and dancing. You nod, lifting your feet off the floor and placing them on the couch. He reaches out and sweeps your legs across his lap, and you sigh happily. Then he tosses a blanket over the two of you.

“Yeah. Sadie found a guy, though, so she left early. And Madi had way too many shots. Had to call her boyfriend to come get her,” you say. “Oh, I ran into your coworker. He bought me a drink.”

Lando wrinkles his nose at that. “Which one?”

You open your mouth to answer, but you fumble for the name. You furrow your brows, sliding farther down into the couch. Lando lets out a squeaky laugh.

“He bought you a drink and you don’t even remember his name?” He asks incredulously.

“I know his name,” you scoff, rubbing your cheek. “I just. I’m drunk, Lan.”

He laughs, reaches out, wraps his arm around your shoulders. He pulls you in, and you go willingly. Happily, even. You rest your head between his jaw and his shoulder, burrowing into the warmth of his skin.

“Pierre,” you tell him.

Lando scoffs. “Pierre has a girlfriend.”

“Never said he bought me a drink and asked me out or anything,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Just that he bought me a drink.”

Lando laughs again and rests his chin atop your head. You melt against him. He rubs your back gently, hand bumping over the low back of your dress and your bare skin.

“You staying the night?” He asks.

You nod sleepily against him. “If it’s alright.”

“Always is,” he says quietly.

On the nights you go out, you end up at Lando’s place more often than you end up at your own. Whether he’s out with you or waiting at home, you head towards him, like a beacon to your drunk mind. How can you help it, really, when he holds you like this, when he’s warm and soft, when he gives you clothes to wear and food and water and tucks you into bed? Of course you want to be with him.

He rubs a thumb over your cheek. “You hungry?”

You nod, biting back a yawn. He laughs again, that light little sound that makes your heart warm. He nudges your shoulder lightly.

“There’s clothes in the guest room for you,” he says, nodding towards the hallway. “Go change and I’ll get you some food, yeah?”

You nod, untangling yourself from him and stretching as you get up off the couch. He squeezes your hip as you do so. You stumble your way towards the guest room on aching feet. The bed is made, one of your favorite blankets laid across the bottom. There’s one of his shirts, a pair of shorts, and a hoodie all laid out for you on the bed, too. There’s even a pair of socks, folded neatly there. He must’ve assumed you’d show up eventually, since he knew you were going out tonight.

Suddenly, your heart is racing. You’re not sure why, can’t pinpoint it in your hazy state. Something to do with the way he takes care of you. You change, leaving the dress laying on the floor, feeling much more comfortable in his clothing. You make your way back to the living room, then towards the kitchen when you hear him there.

He’s at the stove, staring through the glass door. When you peer into it, too, you see a frozen pizza baking. You smile and drape yourself against his back, wrapping your arms around his middle. He sighs happily.

“This is why you’re my favorite,” you murmur.

“Mm. That’s why you come over, huh?” He says. “Not to see me, it’s the food.”

You laugh, squeeze your arms around him. “No. I come over to see you. The rest is an added bonus.”

He turns in your arms and pulls you into his chest, a bright smile on his face. “Okay. I’ll take that.”

You eat dinner with him, or really, a very late snack. Or an early, early breakfast. Then he gets you a glass of water and herds you towards the guest room. He takes the glass back just before you flop backwards onto the mattress with a laugh. He lifts your legs for you by the ankles to get you fully into the bed, peels back the blankets so he can tuck you in. You tug at his hip until he sits down next to you. He sweeps stray hair from your forehead as you blink slowly.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he says softly.

“Love you, Lan,” you mutter, eyes closed.

“Love you too,” he says, barely above a whisper.

Five minutes later, probably when he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, he says, “more than you know. I love you more than anything.”

Then he leaves the room. You open your eyes and stare at the ceiling, wondering if you’ve dreamed it all.

…..

A week later, Lando opens his front door expecting pizza, and instead finds you. He blinks wildly, trying to figure out exactly what’s going on. He hadn’t known you were going out tonight, but here you are at his front door, very obviously drunk. In fact, as he takes in the look on your face, the dullness of your gaze, he thinks you’re beyond drunk. Wasted. Blacked out, maybe. His stomach churns uncomfortably.

“Baby,” he says softly, watching the way your face melts into a soft smile. “You okay? You didn’t tell me you were going out.”

You shrug. “Didn’t.”

You slip past him and into the apartment. He follows closely behind, frowning. He swears he can smell the vodka on your skin- like the nail polish remover his sisters used growing up. He closes the door behind the two of you and reaches for your wrist.

“Hey,” he says, as you stumble into his chest and sigh. “Are you okay?”

You shrug again in response. He fights the urge to groan loudly. He takes your face in his hands and tilts it up towards him. You blink slowly, eyes wide and staring blankly back at him.

“How much did you have to drink?” He asks.

You shrug. Worry sinks into his chest, makes a home there. He runs a thumb across the smooth skin under your eye. He hates to see you like this.

“A lot, huh?” He asks.

Finally, a nod instead of a shrug. He cocks his head at you.

“But you didn’t go out?”

You shake your head.

“Why did you drink a lot, by yourself, at home?” He asks.

You return to your signature shrug. This time he does groan. He lets go of your face, though, and takes you by the shoulders and spins you slowly. He decides it’s best to get you sitting down, so he leads you to the living room, to your spot on the couch. You collapse there, but the usual soft, comfortable smile is missing from your face. He frowns down at you.

You reach out and tug on his shirt. He knows what you’re asking and he goes willingly, happily. He sinks down onto the couch next to you with a soft sigh and pulls you into his chest. You fit there perfectly, like always, like his favorite puzzle piece. He feels so much more at peace when he has you tucked against him. He reaches out and pulls your legs into his lap, curling protectively around you.

“You wanna talk about whatever made you sad enough to get this drunk on a random Tuesday?” He asks, softly.

You shrug and sniffle. His heart clenches in his chest. He hates to see you sad.

“M’fine,” you insist.

He’s not sure what else he expected- you’re blackout drunk, it’s not like you’re going to hold a whole conversation with him. But still, he has to try. He feels a tear drip onto his collarbone and he knows something’s terribly wrong. It’s breaking his heart.

“Baby,” he says, softly. “What’s going on?”

You pull away, blink up at him. “I’m hungry.”

He huffs, knowing that’s not the full story. “Good news. I’ve already got pizza on the way.”

You smile widely, the first smile he’s pulled from you since you showed up at his door. He wipes a stray tear from your cheek, and you smile at him despite it. Then you tuck yourself back into him. He sighs and decides it can wait. He lets you stay there until the doorbell rings- the pizza is here.

He leaves you on the couch while he retrieves the food, and then goes to rejoin you in the living room. He doesn’t bother with plates, knowing you won’t care. Except when he returns, you’re gone, and he frowns. He calls your name and gets no response, but then he hears a noise from the kitchen and goes to investigate.

You’re standing at the fridge, a bottle of vodka in your hand. You stare widely at him, a deer caught in the headlights.

“Baby,” he says softly. “I don’t think you need any more alcohol.”

“The pizza’s gonna sober me up,” you tell him with a frown.

He tries to rub away the ache in his chest, but it doesn’t work. “Yeah, sweetheart. S’kinda the point.”

You frown at him, but when he walks over, you let him take the bottle and put it back in the fridge. He leans in and grabs you a can of soda instead. Then he slips his hand into yours and leads you back to the living room. You follow him reluctantly.

After a couple slices of pizza and a can of soda, you fall asleep against his shoulder. He lets you rest for a bit, until his arm starts to fall asleep and his own eyelids grow heavy. Then he lifts you up carefully and carries you to the guest room, tucking you in with a kiss to your forehead. You stir at the touch.

“I love you, Lan,” you tell him, half asleep, eyes still shut.

“Yeah, honey, love you too.” He answers.

“Not the same,” you say, barely a whisper.

He wants to ask you what you mean, what that could possibly mean, but you’re fast asleep again within seconds. He lays awake in his own bed for hours after, worry gnawing at his gut over the tears in your eyes and the pain on your face. He knows in the morning you’ll tell him you were just drunk, that’s you’re fine. You’ll plaster a smile on your face and try to make him believe you . But he can’t shake the feeling that something is really wrong.

…..

The next time you show up at his door, you’re in a much better mood. He opens the door with a grin, and you lean towards him immediately, trusting that he’ll catch you. He does, of course, letting out a soft oof as your head makes impact on his shoulder.

“Geez, okay, let’s get inside before you start falling over,” he suggests.

He takes hold of your shoulders and drags you inside. You’re giggling as you trip over your own feet and his, too.

“Look, I made it here with my shoes on,” you say, pointing out the sneakers on your feet.

He laughs. “Proud of you, baby.”

You laugh again, leaning heavily on him as you throw your arms around his neck. Your nose drags along his jaw. He smells nice, familiar. You could stay right here forever.

“I like when you call me that,” you admit, the words tumbling off your drunk lips. “Baby.”

Lando sighs, resting his hands gently on your hips. “Okay, baby, let’s get you sitting down, yeah? And maybe some food and water. I think someone’s a bit drunk.”

You whine into his skin, laughing at the way he shivers. You press your nose to his collarbone as he tries to walk you backwards towards the living room. He laughs and does his best to keep you both steady, but when you tug on his arm you both end up tumbling over. Lando, quick reflexes and all, manages to direct both of you into the couch. He lands halfway on top of you, and you sigh happily.

“This is nice,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“You’ve had wine tonight, haven’t you?” He asks, voice low.

You nod against his chest. “How’d you know?”

He laughs. “Because you’re a clingy wine drunk. Vodka makes you sad, and seltzers make you bubbly.”

You sigh in response and try to pull him closer. He’s wearing a t-shirt with a worn out neckline- you press your cheek to the sliver of skin on his chest that’s left bare for you. The warmth of him is comforting, his skin is soft against yours. He groans softly, and then the whole world is moving around you- Lando flips the two of you over on the couch, so he’s laying under you, and you rest against his chest.

“D’you want food?” He asks, running his hand over the top of your head.

“Mmm, no, not hungry,” you say.

“Thirsty?” He asks.

“Not for water,” you say. It slips out before you can really even think about it.

“Well, you’re not having more alcohol,” he says.

“S’not what I meant,” you say.

He sputters out a laugh, chokes your name out in the middle of it. You dissolve into giggles, burying your head in his chest. And it’s funny, really, but he’s so warm and soft against you, and you love him, you have for a while, and two times ago when you were drunk he said he loved you more than anything. Now you’re wine drunk and clingy, and you want to kiss him so badly.

You lift your head, fold your hands on his chest, and rest your chin on top of them. “You should kiss me.”

He laughs, presses a silly kiss to your forehead, complete with a cheesy mwah. You roll your eyes.

“A real kiss,” you insist. “Like you love me.”

He blinks softly at you, eyes going wide. You keep the smile on your face- it’s all your drunk mind knows how to do. You know you’ll probably regret this in the morning, but you stare at him anyway. It’s too late now.

“You said you love me more than anything,” you tell him.

He frowns slightly. “I thought you were asleep,” he says.

“I wasn’t,” you shrug. “Is it true? Cause ‘f it is, you should kiss me.”

Lando stares at you, eyes even wider now. His cheeks are flushed, lips parted. You start to wonder if you’ve made a huge mistake- he’s your best friend, and here you are, showing up at his place drunk, asking him to kiss you.

“Baby,” he says, softly, tenderly, gently. “You’re drunk.”

“But you said-“ you cut yourself off, squeeze your eyes shut. “You said-“

“I know what I said,” he says softly. “And I’m not taking it back or saying it isn’t true. But I’m not going to have this talk while you’re drunk, and I’m definitely not kissing you while you’re drunk.”

You let out a huff. He laughs and runs his thumb against your cheek. You open your eyes to stare at him, then turn your head to press your lips against the heel of his hand. He gives you a wobbly smile.

“Stay the night,” he suggests, voice breathy. “And we’ll have breakfast tomorrow and talk about it all, yeah?”

You nod, eyes growing watery. Lando pouts at you. He leans close and kisses your cheek sweetly, his hand still holding the side of your face.

You follow him to the bedroom shortly afterwards, and he tucks you into the guest bed. You fight to keep your eyes open as he sits on the edge of the bed and rubs his hand over your shoulder.

“We’ll talk tomorrow?” You ask, softly. “Promise you’ll remind me?”

He nods, chewing on his lower lip. “Promise.”

He kisses your forehead just before you fall asleep. You dream about him, like you almost always do.

…..

You wake up in the morning to sunlight streaming through the windows. Anxiety has already made its home in your chest. You remember everything from the night before, every last bit. You wonder if Lando is hoping you don’t. If he wishes you’d never showed up to his place. Maybe he’ll pretend nothing happened, and the two of you can just move past it. That would make all of this easier.

You roll out of bed, brush your teeth, and decide it’s time to face the music. You can hear actual music playing faintly in the kitchen, so you go to find Lando. He’s humming along, bobbing his head to the beat as he cooks something on the stove. You stop in the doorway to watch.

“I know you’re there,” he says without even turning to look. “Come sit. I’m making breakfast.”

You wander over to the kitchen counter, sliding a barstool out and perching yourself on it. You stare at the back of his head, trying to get any sort of information out of his body language. You can read him so well, usually, but this feels more complicated. He hasn’t even looked at you. Your stomach churns with anxiety.

“Lan,” you say, softly, watching the way his shoulders tense. “Did I annoy you last night?”

He finally turns, eyes meeting yours. “What do you remember?”

You shrug. His eyes trace your face, wide and bright. You can’t read his expression, can’t tell what he’s feeling. He promised he’d remind you. But this is his out- maybe you should let him have it. If he doesn’t want to talk about it, that probably means he doesn’t feel the same. And that would be okay, really. You’ll get over it eventually.

He sets the spatula down on the counter. He drums his fingers against the surface before he turns fully towards you. He holds onto the edge and leans forward, tilting in your direction.

“You didn’t annoy me,” he says, softly.

He tilts his head at you. He releases the counter and stumbles a couple steps forward, landing in front of where you’re sitting on the stool. A small smile crosses his lips, the first hint of an emotion that you’ve caught from him all morning. When his hand comes up to hold the side of your face, you hold your breath.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, voice low.

You swallow and nod. “Please.”

Everything feels brighter when his lips touch yours. The sun shines through the window, and you feel warm all over. He’s soft and warm against you, his hands holding your face, and you wrap your fingers in his t-shirt to pull him closer. He steps between your legs with a muffled laugh, nips at your lower lip, slides his hands down your neck and shoulders until they fall to rest on your waist. You press yourself against him, and he does the same.

He breaks away for just a moment, lips against your cheek as he says, “I don’t know if you remember, but you said you loved me. And I just need you to know I love you, too. Like- as more than a friend, yeah?”

“Yeah, Lan,” you agree, kissing his jaw. He lets out a sharp whine. “I love you more than anything.”

The bacon is burning on the stovetop. Eventually, one of you will have to do something about that. But for now, he kisses you again, and you can’t bring yourself to care.

When he finally does pull away, he turns off the stove, discards the burnt food, and orders takeout breakfast for both of you. Then he turns to you, eyes sparkling.

“From now on,” he says, fingers holding onto your hips, “call me when you go out and get too drunk to make it home, yeah? I’ll pick you up. That’s what boyfriends do.”

You laugh and then nod in agreement. “I guess I could do that. That would be the right thing to do, as your girlfriend.”

He kisses your forehead. You tuck yourself into his chest. The puzzle clicks into place.

a/n: Lando has been on my mind a lot lately, so here we go! First little bit of dialogue updated after his tweet to Charles lolll

Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan

#lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #lando Norris oneshot #Lando Norris fluff #Lando Norris friends to lovers #f1 fluff #f1 oneshot #f1 fic #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one oneshot #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 oneshot #formula 1 fic #x reader #honeywrites

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hairmetal666 · 1 year

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By the grace of Robin Buckley, Steve gets into college.

She's his first real friend and it's because he knows her, loves her, learned to be a better person from her, that he's able to smile politely and take the hand of his new roommate. His long-haired, tattooed, dressed in all black roommate, who has already put up dark and menacing posters of bands Steve has never heard of and a bedsheet banner with the words "Corroded Coffin" painted on the fabric.

"Eddie Munson," his roommate says.

"Steve Harrington."

"Good to meet you, roomie." Eddie smiles so big it makes dimples pop. It's a good look. "Parents on the way with the rest of your stuff?"

"Oh, er--just me, actually."

Eddie's smile doesn't waiver. "Need some help?"

Normally, Steve would say no, but he just spent the last hour unloading Robin's stuff. "That would be great, thanks."

So, they work together to get Steve moved in, and as they work, he learns more about his roommate. He is a weirdo, an oddball, fundamentally strange, but Steve can't help but be charmed.

Eddie puts on music, something aggressive with loud guitars and drums, and Steve unpacks. He pulls out a picture of himself with the kids during one of their game nights, displaying it carefully on his desk.

"Wait," his new roommate says. "You? And the dnd children?"

Steve laughs. "They're the kids I babysit. You play that nerd game?"

Eddie's nose wrinkles. Something in the back of Steve's mind notes that it's cute. "Nerd game? Dnd is So. Much. More. It's--it's storytelling and strategy and--" Eddie stops, blinking at Steve. "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"

"Little bit," Steve smiles.

"I can't believe you know dnd. That you babysit nerds. You look like such a jock," Eddie shakes his head in disbelief.

"I am a jock," Steve agrees. "And I love those dorky little shitheads. I tolerate the game."

"Steve Harrington. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Guess so." The smiles they share are wide and sweet, bringing out Eddie's dimples in way that makes Steve long to touch.

After that, they're inseparable. Robin and Eddie and Steve. They study, eat, go to parties, hangout; anything, as long as they're together.

---

Three weeks into the semester, as Steve gets dressed after swim practice, he pulls a shirt out of his bag that doesn't belong to him. It's a black tee, Metallica logo front and center. He chuckles, puts it on. It's soft from wear and smells of laundry detergent and Eddie--cigarettes and leather and some kind of sweet musk. The scent puts him at immediate ease.

He meets Robin and Eddie for lunch. They were early, already have their food and seats, so he walks over to drop off his backpack. Eddie gives him a bright, dimpled smile, but within seconds his mouth is falling open a little, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

"You alright, man?" Steve asks.

Eddie startles, grabs his cup, jamming the straw into his mouth to chew at the plastic."You're--my shirt?" he says.

"Oh, shit. Sorry. Grabbed it by accident. I'll wash it for you."

His roommate flushes pink. "N--no, you don't have to worry about it."

He wants to question Eddie further--he's being so weird--but Robin interrupts. "Dingus! Go get food. Hurry up!"

He does as he's told, but when he comes back, Eddie is even redder than before, and Robin has a wide smirk across her face.

"What is going on with you two?" He asks as he puts his tray down.

Neither of them answer, andEddie launches into a passionate re-telling of some music student drama, so Steve let's himself be distracted.

---

It's mid-October and Steve's coming home from the gym, the one place that Robin and Eddie refuse to accompany him. As he nears his room, he hears music. It's not heavy metal, but something soft and slow and acoustic.

He tries to be quiet as he unlocks the door and enters, doesn't want to disturb Eddie, doesn't want him to stop playing. He never practices when Steve is home, says he doesn't want to be a bother with the noise.

Eddie's sitting on his bed, guitar in hand. There's a battered notebook open next to him, a pencil held between his teeth. He hums a bit, pauses to jot something down, and goes back to playing.

He looks beautiful, Steve thinks, bent over his guitar.

Steve is just about to announce himself when Eddie stops playing again. He writes something in the notebook before resting his head in his head. "Pathetic, Munson. Get it together," he mutters.

"Hi!" Steve says. It startles Eddie, who jumps and almost drops the guitar.

"Stevie!" Eddie stumbles to his feet. "I--uh--you're home!" His face is crimson.

"You're really good, man," Steve says. "I'd love to hear more sometime."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," Eddie nods his head, grabbing for the notebook and slamming it closed. "Sure thing." He stuffs his feet into his Reeboks. "I gotta--I gotta go. Back soon."

Eddie stumbles out their door, notebook clenched firmly in hand.

He is so weird.

---

In mid-November, Robin gets invited to a party by a cute girl. They all go.

Steve isn't trying to hook up. He hasn't slept with anyone since they started school, too caught up with Robin and Eddie. But there's a girl, wavy brown curls and wide green eyes (he has the fleeting thought that they should be deep brown, that it's wrong that they aren't), and she's smiling at him.

Flirting with her is easy.

He doesn't know what breaks his concentration, but he turns to face the rest of the room, eyes falling on Eddie. Eddie who is watching him, his deep brown eyes swimming with hurt, with anger.

It sends a shock of pure panic up his spine. "Eddie!"

Eddie turns on his heel, disappearing in the crowd. Steve follows, but by the time he navigates through the partygoers, his roommate is nowhere to be found. He hurries back to their dorm, heart pounding in his ears, mouth dry.

It's dark in the room, though, and for a second he thinks Eddie isn't home, after all. But he turns on the light, illuminates the rigid lump under Eddie's quilt.

"Eddie?" Steve says, voice soft.

He doesn't respond, though Steve can tell he's awake. He tries again, but Eddie curls deeper under his covers.

Steve spends the night wondering what he did to hurt Eddie so bad.

---

They're back to normal after Thanksgiving. Steve is so relieved he doesn't even ask.

They stay up all night every night studying for finals. By the time Steve's last test rolls around, he's giddy and frantic. He grabs his textbook, shoves a notebook into his backpack, gets to the English building with just enough time to take a last look at his notes.

Only, he flips the notebook open and it's not his English notes. It's song lyrics.

Steve should close it. Put it back in his backpack. It's private. But he's already reading the lyrics written there. They're sexy. The song's about a guy, one Eddie seems to be totally gone for.

A line catches his eye, "need you on every surface in our room." He reads it again and again until the only thing he can see is the phrase, "our room." His whole body is warm, heat pooling, and he's chubbing up in his jeans in the middle of his English class.

Steve flips the pages, anything to get his mind off of that song, and that's when it hits him like a ton of bricks. All those weird moments--the t-shirt, the song, Steve flirting with a girl-- Eddie likes him.

Steve wants to rush to the dorm, wants to confess everything, even starts to stand, but--he has a final to take.

He makes himself close the notebook, but catches sight of another song as he does. It's a love song. It's plaintive and yearning and wanting. And every lyric is for him, about him, about things they did together. It's also unfinished, breaking off mid-way through the second verse.

He doesn't know how he missed it before, but as the professor hands out the test paper, Eddie is all he can think of.

---

When he finally gets back to the room, he finds Eddie's frantic, hair frizzed around his skull. All his bedding is on the floor, the drawers of his wardrobe pulled open.

"Eddie?" Steve asks.

"Have you seen my notebook?"

"What?" Steve's heart drops.

"The black one? It's kind of beaten up?"

"I--uh, yeah. Sorry, Eds. Accidentally grabbed it on my way to class." He pulls his backpack from his shoulder, unzipping it.

"Did you--did you read it?" Eddie's voice shakes, his face painfully red.

Steve doesn't know what to say, what to do. He wants Eddie. Has for a long time, just hadn't been able to put it together. And he doesn't know how to fix what's spiraling out between them.

"Eddie," he says. Can think of nothing else, hopes his desperation is clear in his voice. "Please." He closes the distance between them, slowly, carefully. Cups Eddie's chin in his hand.

They stare at each other, Eddie's eyes wide with shock. Steve can feel the other man's breath on his face, smell the tobacco and sweet musk scent of him.

"Every surface of our room, huh?" Steve asks.

Eddie's cheeks flush. He turns away, bashful. "Something like that."

"And if I want it too?" Steve whispers.

The words hang between them for several beats, before they both move to close the lingering distance between them. Their mouths slip together, like it's nothing, like they do this all the time. Steve grasps at Eddie's curls, fists a hand into his t-shirt, totally lost to the rhythm of the kiss, the easy slip of Eddie's tongue in his mouth.

Eventually, the come up for air, both pink cheeked and panting.

"You're full of surprises, Steve Harrington." Eddie breathes.

"Just wait," Steve smirks, moves in to nip at Eddie's bottom lip. "We have so many surfaces."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #ficlet #oneshot #college au #best friends to lovers #fluff #eddie has a terrible crush #steve is oblivious #platonic stobin #a little angst #misunderstanding #they're all besties #eddie writes songs about steve #secret crush #and they were roommates

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bisayawa · 6 months

Text

freckles & blades & helping hands

✎___ husband!diluc × spouse!reader

✎___ a/n: domestic fluff (literally just a soft scene of diluc shaving his scruff), i aged diluc up a bit i think. use of the pet name honey. somewhat inspired by @/mmmairon's art of beefy, gentle, kind diluc :> 730~ words, not proofread; art by ary scheffer.

"do you need any help?"

legs swinging on the counter top, you lean in & stare, eyes glazing over the handsome lines of your husband's face on the mirror. he has a few crow's feet near his temples. whenever you point it out, he'll always say the wrinkles are evidence of you, you who make him smile & laugh & chuckle until his stomach hurts. it's evidence of a life laughter, he'd say.

the sharp stipple of the razor cuts through the silence.

"no, honey," he says, turning his head & angling the blade to the scruff on his jaw. "it's alright."

the words are spoken softly. it was jarring a few years ago, hearing words of buttercream & sweetness come from a man such as diluc, hulking, dignified, broad-shouldered, almost always with a dour expression on his face.

there was a handsomeness to the gloom before. the sharpness of brows, the bite of his frowns, the particular wrinkle when he scrunches his nose... but you have to admit, the allure is multiplied tenfold when he's all honeyed & dewy-eyed, softer than a cloud.

"i could do it for you, you know?"

his eyes never leave the mirror.

"i still don't understand this... fixation you have," he angles his face in an almost-quarter turn. "i'm just shaving, hon. it's no event you have to witness."

"of course, it is." you lean a little closer. "it's like an unveiling. my husband is showing his true face, one without scruff or stubble."

"an unveiling― ?" his shoulders shake & he puts down the razor for a few moments, small bouts of giggles floating through the room.

he rights himself.

"behave. i'm never gonna finished in time." his stern voice is all for show. he's smiling as he says the words.

a beat passes.

"but isn't it though? they'll finally see all your face. happy wrinkles & all."

he's struggling to fix his lip into a line, unable to stop it from curling into a smile. he's repeating your last few words, mouthing them out as he brings down the razor.

the silence after then is sweet, filled with curious looks towards his face filled with foam & other little chuckles.

"so..." your voice cuts through.

"so...?"

"could i do it for you?"

he taps the razor on the marble sink, shucking hair & foam off the blade.

"you don't know how..." another swipe of the razor.

"you could teach me." tap tap.

"i've..." swipe. "already started." tap

"just the basics." swipe. "an impromptu lesson, yeah? against the grain & all that?"

"it's with the grain, honey."

"right, yeah... i knew that... so are you gonna teach me?"

"hm..."

"oh? usually it's a big, disapproving hrrrnn..."

"you've catalogued my grousing?"

"yup yup, because i am a good spouse who tends to the needs of my husband."

he laughs at that, quietly. another wrinkle on his temple.

"alright, alright... here..."

he gives the razor, grasping it in your hand. he's gentle, careful, righting your hold of the blade.

"okay... here's how it should be..." he guides your hand towards his cheek, speaking in soft murmurs. "just like how my father taught me. listen."

he pulls down, a swipe against his face. hair & foam give way for his pale skin.

"there. let the blade do the work, honey. don't push too harshly."

he makes another swipe, his hand still guiding yours.

"here, just like this." swipe swipe swipe. "you wanna try?"

your small palm finds the back of his neck, pulling him close. brows furrow in concentration as the razor anticipates the next swipe.

"careful, honey, okay?" the warmth of his hand leaves. "i trust you."

shaking fingers steel themselves. the blade goes still before landing on the softness of his skin. it coasts across his jaw, cold metal kissing warm flesh. the line is carved against the shaving foam, no longer obscuring his face.

the swipe is finished. the trust was not betrayed. the result of your work is there upon the blade, as patches of coarse hair & crisp shaving foam.

"how was that?" you murmur.

"wonderful." he's staring into your eyes, not at the razor like you expected. "would you like to keep going?"

"yes, please." you poke at his newly shaven jaw. "i've never noticed your little freckle here."

"i have a few." he pinches your nose. "let's keep going. maybe we can find a few more."

#my fic.#diluc x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact drabble #diluc ragnvindr

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ddejavvu · 6 months

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eddie brock is the og loser boyfriend and i can’t stop thinking about venom just like completely bullying him when he’s in a relationship like his partner is like this drop dead gorgeous person and eddie wears the same sweaty jacket all the time and eats frozen tater tots haha

"There are crumbs on your shirt." Venom observes, and when Eddie nods with a noncommittal grunt, he continues, "And it is not a shirt. It is a sweatshirt. A sweaty sweatshirt, Eddie. And you wore it yesterday."

"That I did," Eddie crams another handful of chips into his mouth, salted and straight from the bag. His attention remains solely on the television in front of him, and Venom's goopy form shakes its head.

"Y/N is coming over later." He reminds the human, watching with disdain as Eddie chokes slightly on his mouthful because of the way he's slouched in his seat. He swallows regardless, and when he speaks, his voice is gruff from the irritation in his throat.

"Yeah, she'll be here in a few minutes," Eddie nods, "Hey, do you think they fake this show? The drama, and all."

Venom has no interest in whether the trashy reality show that Eddie is so enraptured by is fake or not. He cares that you'll be here any minute now, and Eddie looks like a corpse that's been rotting for a few days.

When the doorbell rings, Eddie moves to get up. Crumbs begin raining onto the carpet and he groans as his lazy joints ache, so Venom shoves him back into place with a strong tentacle and uses another to stretch and open the door for you.

You're clearly expecting a person on the other side, but you're quick to recognize the tentacle you're met with instead. It wraps greedily around your waist and you place your hand over its sticky form, grinning as you're barely able to shut the door behind you before Venom yanks you over to the couch.

"Hi, baby," Eddie greets, tipping his head onto the back of the sofa to grin upside-down at you, "How are you?"

"Good," You lean down to kiss him upside down, and Venom is appalled that you're willing to put your lips on Eddie's crumb-coated ones.

"Sour cream and onion?" You guess, and you're rewarded with the near-empty bag of them that Eddie had been demolishing.

You settle happily onto the couch by Eddie's side with the chips in your hand, and when Venom begins to let go of you you hold his tentacle in place. The symbiote watches you silently for a moment, observing your behavior and thinking a whole host of unsavory thoughts about humans and their disgusting tendencies.

"I do not understand," Venom interrupts your gushy sentiments with Eddie about how terrible the acting is on so-called 'reality' shows, "Eddie is disgusting."

The man's nose wrinkles and you let out a scoff of a laugh.

"Thank you, Venom. That's very kind of you. Did you forget you're made of slime?"

"Slime does not sweat. And I do not have crumbs stuck all over me."

"Venom, being in a relationship with someone means that you need to be comfortable with them. We don't have to dress up all the time, Y/N knows what I look like in pajamas and I've seen her hair unbrushed in the morning."

Venom, too, recalls the rather impressive tangled mess of hair that you sport after a night of deep sleep.

"You do not mind that he smells?" Venom turns to you, his milky-white eyes blinking with a squelch.

"He's smelled worse," You give a half-shrug, only one of your shoulders moving as you squirm closer to Eddie beneath the blanket he's draped over you.

"You're both too good to me," Eddie grins, batting his lashes sarcastically, "Careful not to flatter me too much, don't want my head to get too big to fit in my helmet."

Venom regards Eddie for a moment, then thinks of the motorcycle helmet the man breathes into every day. It's repulsive.

"Your head is already abnormally large," Venom observes, settling into Eddie's shoulder opposite from you, "I will keep insulting you so that it does not get bigger. You are repulsive."

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whirlybirbs · 6 months

Note

please god give me "[ CLING ]: having finally been reunited, the sender pulls the receiver into a tight, overwhelmingly relieved embrace, clinging to them and burying their face in their shoulder" with astarion and gale.

┊ astarion ancunín + f!tav!reader┊ CLING

His voice is a near shriek — full of irritation.

"What is wrong with you, hm?!"

"Astarion, I am not in the mood—"

"Oh, well pardon me, my dear lady," comes the snarl of a snarked jest as he follows hot on your trail, "Had I known you weren't in the mood, I would simply have kept my mouth shut and let you die!"

"I had it handled!" you fire back, throwing your hands in the starry, night air and very much ignoring the inquisitive looks from the rest of camp. Astarion does not let up, in fact he jogs to follow more closely than before — right on your boot heels.

"He had a knife to your throat!"

"Wouldn't be the first time that's happened!"

"God, you are the most stubborn woman I have ever met—"

You finally reach your tent and slam your pack down on your makeshift vanity. Inside, the stolen wares rattle amongst pinched gold and silver. A few scrolls, a few potions; enough to get you and your rag-tag team through the next few days on the road.

You'd embarked into the town at sundown, with Astarion by your side, to pull a few old tricks. You're not a stranger to the silver-tongued methods of a thief. A few plucked lute strings, a few batted eyes. Usually, it's quick work. But, tonight you'd met a bit of resistance behind the town's tavern.

At the edge of camp, it's darker. The moon is hung half-full in the sky, and you gather your matches lighter to ignite your trusty lamp. However, the moment you move to flick the ignition, there's a hand on yours.

"Will you listen to me?"

"I told you," you huff haughtily, "I'm not in the mood, Astarion—"

Suddenly, he slaps the pack of matches from your hands.

It hits the ground a few feet away.

You look up at him, brow wrinkled in shock and confusion.

"...Rude..."

His face is set in a firm frown. And then, suddenly, he's pulling you into an embrace that is as unpracticed as it is rough. Your arms are cramped to your sides as the vampire presses his face hard into the crook of your shoulder. You can feel him huff, and then soften slightly.

Your attitude melts away.

"Don't do that again," comes a quiet, desperate utterance. You swear it will cling to your throat forever more; the sound of his true intentions, "As much as I hate to admit it, you've grown on me."

Your eyes slip shut. "...I'm sorry."

He scoffs. His nose, cold and delicate, brushes the skin of your throat.

Astarion can feel the thrum of life beneath your skin there; a familiar feeling. His heart pangs in want. He knows your scent best — comforting. Home. Even if you aren't entirely aware of it.

...But, he'll keep that to himself for now.

And maybe forever.

┊ gale dekarios + tav!reader ┊ CLING

It's a long trek back to camp — and by morning, you've never been happier to smell the last embers of a fire that's burnt noon and night.

Morning rays, fresh from the dawn, spill over the horizon as you meander into the camp. There's dew on your boots and blood in your hair. The gash along your side has long since coagulated into a sticky, cold mess; your leathers are drenched in all sorts of gore. Not all your own. Most belonging to the three Gnolls who had attempted to take you along with your hunted prey for the camp's dinner.

You lost the boar, your favorite bow, and a good amount of pride in the scuffle.

The moment you cross the threshold of camp, you can taste the tang of magic in the air.

You know, immediately, that it's Gale.

Perhaps it's your own awareness of the Weave, or a particular tenderness for the Wizard himself, but you feel him before you see him.

And then, it's a crushing embrace.

His toiling is long forgotten the moment he lays eyes on you, in all your brutality, and he can't help but surge forward with enough momentum to nearly knock you both breathless.

"Where the hell have you been? Avernus?" he mutters, one hand moving to gently cradle the back of your head. His palm is warm, radiating already with a healing magic that alights the air with the smell of lavender.

"Met a bit of trouble fetching us dinner—"

"Karlach will have your head," Gale says, leaning back to eye you up and down as a warm sweep of light graces your edges. You feel it, like a touch white-hot against bare skin. Intimate. Caring. Different entirely from Shadowheart's healing entirely, "She has been out all night searching for you — Astarion, too."

"I'm fine," you mutter — pointedly keeping the fact you had been chased up a tree by the aforementioned Gnolls to yourself — hands falling to his waist, "And I'm ruining your robes."

"Hush."

The magic pulses hotly, and you slip your eyes shut at the intrusion. His sternness comes robed in warmth. A safe sort of thing.

Gale pulls away only long enough to plant a kiss on your brow.

AS ALWAYS: prompts are here, the ask box is here.

#astarion x reader #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion imagine #gales dekarios imagine #gale dekarios x reader #gale x reader #gale x tav #astarion x tav #uber rare birbs formatted post #like #a super shiny pokemon card #baldurs gate imagine

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arkhammaid · 8 months

Text

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THIGH RIDING.

fandom. honkai star rail

pairing. argenti, blade, dan heng, gepard, jing yuan, seele x gn!reader

content warnings. nsfw, MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, thigh riding, not edited/proofread

word count .0.7k

notes. for my favorite whores and our obession with thighs <3 edit: welt does not have a part in this fic!! i copy pasted this whole text above with infos abt the fic from another one and forgot to delete his name, very sorry :(

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ argenti.

to argenti, beauty was elegance, close to perfection. this is what he aspired to be, a knight touched and blessed by the gods themselves— just not in warfare. but seeing you like this, the first time, messy and whiny on his lap, your skin flushed and eyes shiny with tears refusing to roll down your cheeks— it’s truly mind blowing. he’s enchanted, the way you move your hips, grind yourself hard on his thigh and hearing the whimpers that escape your lips. you’re a mess but you’re still oh so beautiful.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ blade.

he knows how much you enjoy riding his thighs. he knows it and he will use it against you, finding amusement in your eyes focusing on the garter belts he likes to put on, when you really should focus on something else. he will tease you for hours, not coming near you and making sure you don’t get any wrong ideas. when he finally thinks the torture is enough and you deserve some mercy, he will haul you towards the bedroom and place you on his thigh. and even then, when you’re slowly but surely loosing your mind, he doesn’t help you. instead he leans back and watches you with half lidded eyes, how you whine and pant on his lap.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ dan heng.

dan heng simply enjoys thigh riding because you find pleasure in it. he was first confused, why you wanted to ride his thighs, when he had a dick you could ride so much better, but then were clinging onto him, calling out his name while you chased your orgasm. and he could only hold your hips, utterly enchanted by every noise and movement you did, watching how you came undone on his thigh. and you? you love sitting on his lap, a thigh between your legs and grinding on his muscles, chasing your peak with frantic moving hips, all while he murmured low praise in your ears, eager to see you shake in his arms.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ gepard.

gepard is always the more flushed between the both of you when you ride him, be it his dick or his thighs. but there is something different when you make a mess of yourself and drag him with you, his uniform soiled and wrinkled, just because you’ve been riding his thighs until you were shaking in his arms. it overwhelms him every time, your moans and high pitched whines filling his ears and fogging his mind, your whimpers making him lightheaded— even when it’s you, who always comes undone on his lap, it’s him that ends up as a complete mess.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ jing yuan.

jing yuan thinks it’s amusing, the way you’re so fixated on his thighs. be it in his uniform or out of duty clothes, you always try to find a way to admire them. and your enthusiasm, when he asks you if you want to ride his thigh, only confirms it to him. you ride them as if it’s his dick, hips frantic while you grip his shoulders, head thrown back while moans escape out of your mouth oh so shamelessly. it’s amusing to him, to see how fast and hard you can cum by simply riding his thighs— sometimes even harder when you’re in the office and you’re ruining his pristine uniform. and he loves to share his amusement with you, teasing words making you shudder while you plead for him to stop and do so much more— oh how he loves it when you come undone.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ seele.

seele knows about the enjoyment thigh riding can bring, but she can’t lie, she prefers you to be the one doing the riding. the feeling of your legs around hers, your arousal wetting her muscles and helping you to glide over her skin smoothly— all these sensations, paired with your oh so pretty moans and whines, it’s truly heaven for her. to see you so messy is akin to seeing you free, free with your desires and passions, for her eyes only. and to see you above her, gasping for air while your whole body shudders, is one of many fantasies she can witness as much as she wants.

ARKHAM MAID 2023

#argenti x reader #blade x reader #dan heng x reader #gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader #seele x reader #argenti smut #blade smut #dan heng smut #gepard smut #jing yuan smut #seele smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations #after dark <3

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moonchildstyles · 3 months

Note

can we get a chiaroscuro blurb where maybe harry chases petal around? like a game but it takes a spicy turn 👀

wordcount: 8.4k+

—————

(Y/N) fumbled with her keys as she took the short scale of steps to the front door of the manor, her hands full of grocery bags she was too stubborn to make more than one trip for. She could feel her back sweating under the heavy cardigan dropped over her form, the sun far too bright and warm given the time of year.

Just when she thought she had the grip right, her keys fell to her feet and out of reach. An exasperated huff fell from her lips. She should have just called Harry to help when she made it home.

Bending carefully to keep her grocery bags from tumbling out of her arms, she blindly reached around for her keys. Her fingers grazed the stoop with no such luck, her annoyance growing just as the heavy door to the manor swung open.

"My love, is everything al—What are you doing on the ground?" Harry rushed, urgency entering his voice once he caught sight of her struggle, "What happened? Are you hurt?"

He was at her side in a blink, immediately taking the bags from her arms and steadying her. He took stock of her, a familiar expression striking his features; he was worried, near frantic attempting to find where she could have been injured.

"I'm okay," she shook her head, grateful for him taking some of the burden from her hands, "I just thought I wouldn't have to make more than one trip, then I dropped my keys and it's just—I don't know, it's too hot outside."

A pinch creased Harry's brows, giving him wrinkles that would disappear the second he smoothed his features. "Why didn't you call for me? I would have helped you, petal."

She shook her head, following after Harry with her keys in hand and only a single grocery bag into the manor. "It's too sunny. I thought I could make it, so I didn't want to make you come out if you didn't have to."

"I can handle some sun, darling," he assured her, getting her safely inside the manor before he closed the door and sealed out the unseasonal sunshine, "Especially if it is for you."

A small smile curled over her lips at his declaration. Of course he would say that it is worth it to potentially combust or go blind if it meant that he could help her bring her groceries in.

It was sweet—and only a little stupid.

Marching off to the kitchen, Harry didn't wait before he began unpacking all of her items and placing them within the cabinets and fridge. (Y/N) did little more than perching on the countertop, knowing that he wouldn't allow any kind of help since she had already gone through the trouble to shop herself (on his dime, though he never let her use that against him in the argument). She knew he could have it done in a matter of seconds, but he tended to refrain from using his supernatural abilities in moments like this, insisting she made him want to slow down and feel normal with her. That left her to watch as he bubbled around, unpacking with the reusable bags being folded away for another time.

The sight brought her back to her first night at the manor, before she had even met him. The kitchen had been so clumsily stocked with the strangest variety of ingredients. Neither him nor Niall had any idea of what a human needed to make a proper meal.

"Has the forecast changed at all for this afternoon?" (Y/N) asked, not bothering to take her eyes off him as he worked.

A grim line settled on his lips. "Not as far as I know. I am starting to worry I won't be able to accompany you later."

Her mouth edged into a soft pout. "Really?"

"'M afraid so, my love," he said, an apologetic quirk to his lips.

"I don't want to go if you can't come, though," (Y/N) argued, kicking her feet from where she sat on the counter. She was just a moment away from pulling out her phone and rain checking on Charlotte for another day.

"You should still go, petal," Harry countered, putting away the last ingredient before he drifted to stand between her spread thighs, "Do not cancel on my account."

"But the whole point of today was so you could meet my friends. It kind of defeats the purpose if you don't come with me." She would have to tell them he came down with something, and reschedule to a day with a promise of cloudy weather.

His lips were still in a thin line when he settled his hands on her thighs, a chill seeping through the denim of her jeans. "I do not want you to miss out on your friends and your human activities on my account. I don't think it's fair."

"I see Charlotte and the others plenty, H," she said, placing her own hands on his with her palms warming his skin, "Today really was going to mostly be about you. Plus, I know Charlotte kind of loves it when I cancel, so she can stay in with her boyfriend instead. They'll understand."

With the pinch between his brows only winding tighter, (Y/N) knew he was far from convinced but when he peeked up at her through his lashes, she could tell he wasn't going to argue. "Only if you are sure, my love. Please, if you change your mind, do not feel bad about leaving me here. I want you to do whatever makes you happiest."

"I will," she settled with a small smile, despite knowing that her happiest would be found right here in the manor with him.

Curling her fingers around his own, she held onto his hands as she leant towards him and pressed a small kiss to his lips.

It was Harry that chased after her when she began to pull away, ensuring she wasn't far before the chill of his mouth was once again buttoned to her own. She smiled into his kiss.

"Are you happy I'm staying home now?" she asked against his mouth, causing him to push his kiss to the corner of her mouth.

He paused, his hands flexing around the full of her thighs.

"Perhaps a little."

—————

"Let me finish this one section. Then I am all yours, petal."

Harry's murmured voice was quiet in the middle of his studio, barely much louder than the swish of his brush over the canvas propped in front of his stool. His palette was full of color, the evidence of the last hour of work he'd put into the finishing layer of his latest piece.

(Y/N) couldn't contain the heavy sigh she heaved as she draped herself over his form. Her arms dangled down over his shoulders, her face pressed cheek to cheek with his. A pout was on her lips as she watched him make changes so subtle she could barely even notice them.

This wasn't exactly what she had in mind when she cancelled her day plans.

He'd been at this for what felt like forever, and (Y/N) had been itching to pry him away for at least the last twenty minutes. She could hardly stand still, let alone actually watch him.

It was his fault, really.

It was Harry who had used the early hours of the afternoon to make a batch of sugary cupcakes, complete with chocolate frosting and raspberry compote shoved in the middle. After being the taste tester during the making and stealing a couple once they were cooled, (Y/N) was now experiencing what she could only call a sugar high and wanted Harry's attention more than anything. (Though she wasn't up to admit it, the late afternoon latte she made out of boredom probably had more than just a little to do with the extra energy).

She impatiently watched him make another minute stroke, adding a barely there brush of white highlight on a bush. The sound of his brush swirling through paint on his palette had her jaw ticking.

"Are you done yet?"

A huff of laughter left Harry's lips. "Almost, my love. What has gotten into you, may I ask?"

"I'm bored, and I want to play with you," she pouted, curling her arms around him in a clumsy hug.

"Yeah?" he prompted, his smile audible, "What would you like to play, hm?"

He was only teasing her, she was sure. He hadn't even stopped painted when he spoke. (Y/N) deflated, sinking into his shoulders. "I don't know."

The change in her inflection had Harry pushing his palette to the side, his full attention landing on her as he twirled on his stool to face her. He collected her hands in his, the glamoured green of his eyes wavering in distress.

"I didn't mean to upset you, love—I promise I was only teasing," he pleaded with her, canting his head with his cool hands squeezing hers.

Maybe it was a bit awful of her, but she couldn't help herself but to poke just a hair further to get what she wanted.

"It's okay," she told him, though she played up the moment with her mouth in a pout, "Will you hang out with me now? Please?"

"Of course, my love," he rushed out, standing to the full of his height with his hands still wrapped around hers, "Anything you want, we will do. I am at your disposal."

Perhaps she hadn't thought her little plan through quite as well as needed, (Y/N) realized. She didn't even know what she wanted to do, only knowing that she wanted to erase her boredom and she wanted Harry to be there when she did.

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she flitted her eyes away from his own intense gaze. "You pick."

"Me?" Harry pressed, serious expression on his features. His hands around hers shifted until he had their fingers laced together, his thumb running along the outside of hers.

(Y/N) shrugged, almost wishing she had let him continue painting instead of this. "I didn't think this far ahead."

His face softened into a gentle smile, his brows loosening with his eyes almost glimmering as he gazed at her. "Okay," he sounded, "I will think of something, then. Your only job is to tell me if you think you would have fun."

A furrow touched his brows much to (Y/N)'s delight. He always looked especially cute when he was concentrating like this.

"I can do that," she smiled at him, happy to have his attention after the long afternoon.

It only took a beat before Harry was flicking his gaze to match hers. "What is something humans do when they cannot go outside? What kind of activities would y'play when you were unable to go out?"

The question had (Y/N) thinking back to the days before Harry—before the rain and the clouds were their best friends. "Probably read or watch a movie or something," she answered, "I have too much energy, though—none of that sounds fun."

It was Harry's turn to puff his lips into a pout, his gaze dropping to their joined hands and growing distant with his thoughts whirring. "Okay," he drawled, "Are there any games that sound fun to you, petal?"

Sifting through her memories like a rolodex, (Y/N) pinged on something she hadn't thought about in years. "When I was a kid," she started, "Me and my sister would play stupid things like tag or hide and seek if we couldn't play outside. I was never very good at it, but I think it could be fun."

The smile that bloomed on his face told her that he had it all figured out then. "Let us do that, petal. We can still play even if it's only the two of us, yes?"

"Hide and seek?" (Y/N) clarified, unable to keep her own lips from stretching into a grin as she saw his own.

"Yes!" he bubbled, entirely too giddy over a childhood game, "That would be fun, wouldn't it? You would not be bored while playing, right?"

A peal of laughter fell from (Y/N)'s lips at his declaration, her energy bouncing off of his. "You're going to win every time, though. You'll always know where I am."

"I swear I will not pay attention," he assured her, "No cheating, I promise."

A bubbly smile drew (Y/N)'s features with soft curves. The manor was so big, this was the kind of place she would have killed to play such a game in when she was a kid. She just had to hope Harry wouldn't find her too easily when it was his turn.

"Okay," (Y/N) sang, using her grip on his hands to lead him out of the studio, "But, you're hiding first."

"Now?" he blanched, looking taken aback as if he hadn't suggested this game himself.

"Yes, now," (Y/N) laughed, pushing Harry out into the hallway with her ands untangling from his, "I'm going to start counting, and if you're not hiding, I still win if I catch you."

(Y/N) didn't wait for a reaction, instead turning her back to him with her hands covering her eyes. She began counting loudly for him to hear. After a moment of lag, his footsteps finally began to retreat, disappearing in a blink by the time she had counted to fifteen. If not for her eyes already being closed, she would have rolled them; Harry was already using his abilities to his advantage despite just vowing not to cheat. She continued counting through her smile.

While (Y/N) couldn't remember the exact rule from her childhood, she was sure she didn't count for as long as she was supposed to. He didn't need that much time anyway, she decided. He'd probably already found a hiding space as soon as he disappeared.

Entering into the hall and leaving the studio behind, she couldn't help that rush of adrenaline that always came with this kind of game. While she was technically the hunter in this scenario, she felt those nervous butterflies every time she peeked around a corner or peered into a dark room, anticipating the sight of Harry waiting for her. It didn't help that he could be completely silent when he wanted, leaving her with no warning of where he would spring up.

Her search took her through much of the first floor before she grew antsy and trekked up the staircase towards his wing of the manor. While he didn't spend too much time in his bedroom any more after moving into her lighter chambers, it was still a space he knew better than anywhere else.

Though much of the decor had shifted in the house, leaving behind some of the more grotesque paintings and ominous sculptures, this wing of the manor still contained those relics of the past. She had insisted that he keep his space as he had it, not wanting him to change everything just because she was now a part of his life. That left her padding down the dark hallway with the blank white eyes of the demonic cherubs following after her. Sobbing angels and puddles of blood littered the backgrounds of these scenes, taking (Y/N) back to the early days when she had first arrived at the manor.

Curling her sweater sleeves over her hands against a phantom chill in the corridor, she peeked into the various rooms lining the hall. Her heart beat heavy in her ears every time she pulled open a door, expecting to see Harry's pale features shining through the dark. Her paced breathing and footsteps were the only other sounds to be heard in the silent passage.

She saved his bedroom for last, this being the only room she was actually familiar with in the hall. Her stomach was flooded with butterflies as she twisted the knob, pushing open the door before crossing the threshold into the chilly room. Goosebumps pricked her skin as she stepped inside, not bothering to flick on the lights as if that would break the effect of the game—as if she wasn't starting to actually grow spooked.

His room was still decked in velvet and silk, golden and black features streaming throughout. She could still clearly recall the night she had tucked herself under the heavy duvet, waiting out the monsters that had called to her outside. She remembered the way Harry had tried to soothe her in the night, when her sleep had grown restless. How that moment had felt like a dream only for it to be one of the first pages in their story.

Her breath caught in her throat when she swore she saw a shadow move behind the drawn curtains.

Stepping on silent feet, she ventured further into his bedroom, hesitantly peeking around his wardrobe and even chancing a look inside. Each attempt was fruitless as she changed her direction towards the bathroom attached to the room.

There was a static in the air, the kind that made her sure there was someone else sharing this space with her, but there was no Harry to be seen. The hinges of the bathroom door creaked just as she felt a set of hands land on her shoulder.

"Found you."

Harry's breath washed over the side of her neck, a shiver running down her spine at the same time she startled in her spot. Her heart skyrocketed to her throat, beating heavy behind her ribs and echoing in her ears.

Spinning to face him with her hand to her neck and mouth dropped in a gasp, she looked to him with accusing eyes. "You scared me! I'm supposed to be finding you!"

"I'm sorry," he said through an amused smile that did nothing for his point, "You walked past me twice, petal. I couldn't wait any longer."

Settling in her skin, (Y/N) was able to pout over her lost game. "I would have found you."

"I am sure y'would have, my love, but now y'can relax. I could hear your heart beating like you were running a marathon."

Sometimes she forgot just how in tune with her body he was; he knew everything, many of them she barely even noticed herself. Nothing was overlooked.

"I was right to be scared," she countered, her skin warming as he dropped his hands from her shoulders to follow the length of her arms down to her hands, "You ended up scaring me just like I thought you would."

"Darling," he drawled, ducking his head to be level with her gaze, "I really didn't mean to—I was hoping I would make you laugh, that's all."

Collecting her into his arms, Harry hugged her against his chest in apology. As much as she wanted to believe him, (Y/N) could still feel that smile of his, complete with both dimples, as he tucked his face into the warmth of her neck.

"It's okay, H," she murmured, nonetheless reciprocating his hug with her arms around his neck. He sunk into her hold, heavy and adoring as he relaxed. With her mouth by his ear, she whispered, "Your turn."

With that, she pushed off of him, laughter spilling from her lips as she scuttled out of his bedroom. Heading towards the staircase at the end of the corridor, she turned around with a beaming smile just to see him looking after her like she thought he would. The sight made her grin that much larger.

"Start counting—and no cheating!"

All but sprinting through the manor, (Y/N) left him behind, finally working out that giddy energy she'd been holding onto through the afternoon. While she knew there was little chance that this was going to be a very fair game given the fact that he couldn't turn off his senses, she still wanted to have fun and see if she could confuse him and have even a minute chance at winning.

In an attempt to play dirty, she ran around the manor, traipsing through the kitchen, her bedroom, the art studio, any door she could get through without wasting too much time to leave her scent any and everywhere. Her heartbeat and breathing were going to be her giveaways, but this could buy her time if Harry fell for it.

By the time she knew she was closing in on the remainder of her time, she settled on hiding in the laundry room. The room had two entrances—one opening to what used to be considered a maid's quarters, and the other out into the hallway. Leaving the door to the hallway open in hopes of through him off, she tucked herself out of sight. She fixed her eyes on the slight crack in the open door with the maid's entrance to her back.

The longer (Y/N) stayed tucked away, the more that familiar anticipation crept in. Though, instead of being the hunter, she was now the hunted, sitting like a duck as she waited to be caught. The worst part was how silent Harry would undoubtedly be—she wouldn't even know she had been found until he had his hands on her.

Keeping her eyes fixed to the crack in the door, (Y/N) waited. It took everything to keep from wriggling and giving away her spot, despite the growing buzz in her stomach that urged her to run or use the restroom (the juvenile urge being one she only really felt while playing this game, she realized). He must be staying as true as he could to his vow of no cheating since he was taking his time to make it through the manor, his speed being left in his bedroom.

Out of nowhere, there was a creak from a floorboard heard down the hallway. (Y/N) clamped her mouth shut, pacing her breathing as if that would help. At least she knew where he was now.

Her gaze never strayed from where she could see just a sliver out into the hall, waiting to see the green knit of his sweater. The longer she waited, the harder her heart beat. There was no other creak or sound of movement telling her where he could have retreated.

She rolled her lips between her teeth. Could she chance a shift in her spot, just to see I she could spot him elsewhere?

A breath too late, from the corner of her eye she saw a familiar green sweater and pale features.

"Harry, no," she laughed right as he caught her with his hands landing on the soft curve of her waist, "You cheated!"

Tugging her to his chest, Harry pulled her out of hiding and right to him. A wondrous light had settled in his eyes as he took in her laughter. "How did I cheat? I gave you plenty of time, petal."

"You're not allowed to be so quiet," she argued, already pulling away from his embrace, "Go hide, it's my turn."

Harry didn't let her get very far before he was pulling her back to his chest, dipping his head down and leveling his gaze with hers. "No, I won. I found you," he smiled, tipping his chin to press his lips to the soft of hers.

(Y/N) drew away first, keeping herself from getting distracted. Energy was still trickling through her system, she didn't want to stop now. "I know, so it's my turn again."

Chasing after her, another kiss was planted over her mouth. He spoke against her lips, "No, I win. I get m'prize now."

She laughed into his kiss, Harry swallowing the sound between his parted lips. "Your prize?"

Pulling away just enough to match her gaze with his nose bushing hers, amusement sparkled in his eyes. "Are you not my winnings?"

A spark bubbled under her skin, meeting with lingering butterflies that had her slipping out of his arms. He was always going to win in the end, but she was going to get in as many rounds as she could before then.

"Fine," she relented, shooting him an excitable smile as she bounced on her feet, "but you have to catch me first."

With that, she shot out of the laundry room, slipping out of his reach. A bright smile was on her lips as she pictured the look on she had undoubtedly left on his face. It wasn't until she had ran her way down the hall, reaching a corner that she peered over her shoulder.

Harry had only followed her far enough to be peeking out into the corridor, a furrow to his brow and slight quirk to his lips. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I don't know!" she giggled, skidding around the corner before popping her head around to peek at him once more, "And, no cheating!"

She heard his laugh as she sped down the winding hall and towards the staircase. There was no clear destination in mind, just knowing that she wanted to make a little bit of trouble for him before she was caught.

The fact that he hadn't reached her already told her that he had listened to her rules, but that didn't mean he was very far behind if the sound of his rapid footsteps was anything to go by.

By the time she made it to the sitting room, murals of the heavens watching as she raced through, she could hear Harry's barely a heartbeat behind her. Daring to peek over her shoulder, she could see him descending the stairs, a furrow to his brow until he caught her looking. Then, he had a splitting grin on his face.

A giddy peal of laughter fell from her lips as she ran harder from him, feeling that adrenaline leak into her system knowing that he was right there. It would be so easy for him to use his supernatural traits and catch her before she took her next step, but he was letting her keep her little game up. He was enjoying the chase.

He followed her into the kitchen where she slid her socked feet across the floor, catching her balance before she could tumble to the floor. The close call had just that much more energy hitting her system.

"Be careful, petal," Harry scolded her, having just barely caught her near miss.

"No," she laughed, knowing she sounded a bit like a petulant child before she was off again. She could hear his own huff of laughter from where she left him behind.

It didn't take long before she felt the stretch of Harry's fingers graze the back of her sweater, the beats of his feet just behind her. She yelped at the touch, instinctively trying to throw him off by zagging towards the stairs once more. Before she could lead him up, he closed the distance and wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her away from the steps.

"We are not going to run up the stairs like this, petal," he laughed, not even a little out of breath as he tucked her back to his chest.

"You cheated at the end," she accused in a pant, laughing as she tilted her head back to look up at him.

His features were upside down from where she gazed down at her, smug smile on his lips. "Perhaps, but I still win."

Before she could argue, he had her spun around in his arms. The world spun around her as Harry threw her over his shoulder, her hips settled on the cuff of his shoulder with her arms dangling down his back and legs kicking in front of him. His arm created a bar across the backs of her thighs, keeping her steady as she wriggled over him.

"I get to take you away now, petal," he declared, starting towards the stairs on much more steady feet this time, "No more running from me."

"I thought you said we were going to play whatever I wanted today," she faux-whined, clinging to him as he reached the landing of the second level.

"I think you'll like this break from your game, puppy," he answered simply.

She was sure they both felt the change in the pace of her heart then. With that one word, she knew he was right. She was going to enjoy whatever game he wanted to put on now.

Pushing into their bedroom, (Y/N) was unceremoniously plopped onto the bed, unmade bedding rustling around her. The mattress bounced under her back just as Harry settled followed, crawling to the middle of the bed to sit himself between her thighs.

His weight had her sinking into the plush sheets with her thighs spread wide to accept his hips against her own. A heady bulge pressed against her core as he buried his face against her neck. The tip of his nose skimmed over the column of her throat, her skin breaking into goosebumps at the touch. She could feel the smile curling on his lips at her reaction.

Bringing her hands up to tangle through his hair, she hiked her thigh around the cuff of his hip. The chill of his lips held that much more of an effect on her when he pressed them o her heated throat.

"What's gotten into you?" she asked, preening under the attention.

Harry's response came in between the smattering of kisses he gave to her neck, the scratch of his teeth sending a shiver down her spine. "I liked chasing you," he murmured against her skin, words melting into her pores, "Jus' wanted to catch you and take you away."

(Y/N) felt breathless at his admission. That wasn't the intended effect she had been going for with her game, but she couldn't say she didn't like it.

"Take me away to do what?" she pressed, wanting nothing more than to have his voice wash over her with every minute detail that came to mind.

"To fuck you, puppy," he answered simply, taking her breath away when he scraped his teeth against the well-bitten spot on her neck. "You know that."

Her reaction was enough to spur him on as he sucked a mark onto the hollow of her throat. Her fingers coiled in his curls, arching into him with her head tipping to the side to give him more skin to roam. Harry happily took advantage, teasing her with nips at the curve of her neck once he was satisfied with the faint mark he left behind on her skin.

"You want that too, puppy?" Harry murmured against her throat, the full of his lips pillowing over the goosebumps on her skin, "Want me to fuck you?"

She didn't even think before she was nodding as best she could with her cheek pressed to the mattress, her mouth dropped in a breathless gasp. Harry's smug smile could be felt against her neck before he drew back, matching her eyes with his own intense gaze.

"Say it."

Her heart hammered against her rib cage, her thighs squeezing around his hips. How her stupid game of hide and seek led to this, she wasn't sure, but she was willing to do it again every day if this was the kind of effect it had on Harry.

When she didn't immediately answer him, Harry pulled one of his hands up and lightly tapped on her warm cheek with his three middle fingers.

"C'mon, puppy. I wanna hear y'say it."

Though it was far from the filthiest thing she's said for him or he's said to her, she still felt her skin warm and throat bob as she followed his instruction.

"I want you to fuck me, Harry."

His eyes fell to her lips, watching her mouth form the words and her breathless voice carry them out. There was a note of pride in his gaze as he took in her obedience.

"I can do that for you, petal."

Ducking his head down, he smeared his lips against hers, tongue slipping inside her mouth and sampling a taste of her own. (Y/N) raked her fingers through his hair, nails grazing his scalp as she leant into every bit of affection he offered. She locked her thighs around his hips, every sweep of his tongue causing a pulse of the muscles.

Wordlessly, he slipped his arms around her cradling her to him just before he rolled them over in the tufts of their bedding. In a breath, without having separated from their kiss, he had placed himself underneath her form. (Y/N) sat in his lap, knees bracketing his hips with Harry's legs bent at the knee behind her to keep her steady in her place. Once she caught up with her body, she startled, instinctively reaching to place her palms on his shoulders as she drew away from his mouth with her kiss-swollen lips in a gape.

Harry's pupils were blown wide as he looked up at her, his bottom lip fit snugly between his teeth. "Haven't had you on top in a while, huh, puppy?"

Despite talking as if he expected an answer from her, Harry rocked his hips underneath hers, effectively robbing any chance of speech. (Y/N) could only shake her head—it really had been a while since she'd been the one above.

Pleased with her eager breathlessness, Harry dropped his hand to fit the curve of her waist, a slight flex of his fingers pushing dents into the soft skin. "Show me how you're going to ride me, petal. I want to see you to work for my cock."

He spoke with no reservations, commanding with all the affection in the world embedded in his tone. There was no way she could say no to that. She wanted to give him everything just as much as he did for her.

Digging her fingertips into the broad of his shoulders, she steadied herself with her knees on either side of him. His legs behind her were the easiest way to keep herself steady as she started rocking herself on his lap, using his thighs to lean against with every roll of her hips.. The bulge of his cock pressed headily against her core with each brush, her stomach tightening along with her breathless lungs.

"Y'can do better than that, darling," he taunted, his voice playfully mocking, "I know you don't expect me to be gentle today, right? Not after y'made me chase you around just to get you all pretty in my lap. Gonna take more than this to get my cock in you."

Taking advantage of his grip on her waist, Harry took over, bouncing her on his lap as if to show what he was looking for from her. The rhythm of her grinding was dismissed as he pumped her over his cock, his thighs spreading at her back as her ass dropped into his lap over and over, his cock pressing directly against her clit through the fabric of her pants. Small moans managed to escape from (Y/N)'s throat even with the squeeze of her lungs.

"This is better, right, puppy?"

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she breathed, her eyes fluttering to a close. It was better than her grinding, but nowhere near as satisfying as stuffing his cock inside. "More, pl-please."

His lips curled her words. "Y'think you're ready to do this on m'cock? Even if I don't help you?"

The nod of her head was automatic, no extra thought given to whatever parameters he gave her. She could make anything work as long as she got out of her clothes and had her pussy full of him.

Harry stopped bouncing her then, his hands stilling as he kept her from moving herself. (Y/N) wanted to whine, to complain that he had stopped her just as he shushed her with a kiss, leaning up to meet her lips.

"Do not pout, puppy. Can't fuck y'through my clothes, can I? At least not the way y'like."

With that, (Y/N) didn't hesitate to climb off his lap and rid herself of her clothes. Her sweater and pants became a messy pile on the floor with her panties soon following. She heard a soft laugh sound from behind her when she flung her bra onto the floor in her haste. Despite the chill glancing over her skin, (Y/N) didn't wait before crawling back into Harry's just-as-cold embrace.

He welcomed her back into his lap readily, his cock hard between his thighs. She felt her own core tighten at the sight of his blocked muscles, the creamy pallor of his skin making his tattoos look that much darker. His gaze was its own aphrodisiac as he pinned his eyes to her form kneeling over his lap, drinking her in just as much as she did him.

"So gorgeous, darling," he told her, his voice a gentle coo compared to the hard lines of his body, "If I could dream at all, it would be of you. You know that, right?"

"I dream of you, every night," she told him sweetly as if she wasn't inches above his hardened cock, her center slick and waiting for him.

"Good dreams?" he asked, just as he always did with a dimpled smile on his lips.

"The best," she declared, fitting her hands on his shoulders with her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips.

"Give me a kiss, puppy," he crooned, tipping his chin just right to give her access to his lips.

Pressing her mouth to his, Harry took the lead with his hands cupping the full of her hips. He welcomed the warmth of her kiss, swiping his tongue over hers with the slick parting sounds of their lips filling the quiet bedroom.

"Ready to take me, puppy?" Harry breathed against her lips, unwilling to pull too far away.

"Please," was (Y/N)'s cooed response before melding her lips to his once more.

Using his hold on her hips, Harry eased (Y/N) onto his cock. He fit the tip inside her wet center, swallowing the gasp she let out against his mouth. Her hands on his shoulders were tight as he helped her sink down his length. Her toes curled on either side of his form, her thighs clenching the further inside he pushed. Harry took his time, leaving (Y/N) to feel every inch of him with every spread of her walls to let him in.

Once he bottomed out, the trimmed thatch of hair at his base pressing to her clit and his balls patting her ass, (Y/N) felt her insides pulse around him, her stomach tight in her middle. Harry's hands on her sides tightened, denting the soft flesh with his fingertips.

"Feel good, puppy?" he murmured with a strain, pausing as he let her adjust to him, "Full?"

"Uh-huh," she mindlessly answered, swearing she could feel him jump against her walls, "So full."

A moan bubbled up from his chest, low and rumbling. He trailed his lips from her mouth to the soft apple of her cheek, basking in her warmth as he reflected it back. His lips were a cool point of clarity against her skin, his nose skimming the height of her cheekbone. He planted his line of kisses until he landed at the space just before her ear.

"Ready for me to fuck you, puppy? Jus' like I promised?" he murmured into her ear, gently shifting his hips under hers as if to remind her he was still there.

The only response he seemed to need was the soft coo of his name that fell from her mouth, soft and wanting. As if there were any world that existed where she denied his offer.

Harry began to bounce her on his lap, his hands tight on her hips as her mouth dropped into a wordless gape. The thrusts he helped her make were short and shallow, lifting her only halfway off his cock before she was slammed down once more, her clit nudging his base with his tip hitting far walls she decided only existed for him. Her breathing came out in soft huffs every time her hips settled against his in soft slaps.

He attempted to smatter more kisses against her cheek, but was stopped short in his own pleasure. She could feel the soft gape of his lips against her skin, the length of his lashes grazing her cheek as he clamped them shut while falling into the feel of her.

Despite his early threat of leaving her to do the work all by herself, she barely had to do anything more than take it as he rocked his hips to meet the thrusts he was curating with her in his lap. She could feel her breasts moving with every thrust, peaks hardened as she attempted to draw herself closer to his chest and feel more of his chilled skin against her.

"Harry, I—" she choked out, her voice dying in her throat as she threw her head back after a particularly harsh thrust of his hips against hers.

"I know, petal, I know," he murmured, gaining some of his composure as he dropped his mouth to her throat. It was there that he could feel the thrum of her pulse, just under the soft skin he was accustomed to sinking his teeth into and leaving bruised and delicate in his wake. "I've got you, puppy. Gonna make me cum, you know that?"

Her thighs clenched at the thought of him cumming inside her, feeling that warmth leak through her system. Her nails dug deeper into his shoulders, drawing him that much closer to her.

"You want that? Want me to cum inside you? Make you mine again?"

He asked these things as if she could answer—as if she had half the mind to say anything other than a pathetic moan or a clench of her hands over his body. Of course she wanted that; of course she wanted to feel him cum inside her and stake his claim. She wanted anything he was willing to give.

"Tell me, puppy," Harry commanded, his gentle tone forgone for the moment as his grip on her hips harshened, "Not gonna let you cum with me if y'don't talk to me."

"I want that, I want that," she rushed out, unwilling to test his threat, "Want you to cum in me, H. Please."

"Good girl, pup. Always doing what I say, " he murmured, quietly praising her as if she couldn't hear him. "So, so, so good. Gonna make me cum so hard—shit."

One of his hands slipped from her hip, fitting between their bodies before he pressed his fingers to the bud of her clit. The first touch of his cold fingertips took her breath, stunting her lungs with her mouth dropping open in a soundless moan. Harry continued his relentless thrusting, the rhythm deep and consistent, adding to the twisting feeling of her clit being circled. Despite Harry being the one that had wanted this, dragging her to their bedroom in the first place, she doubted he would be the first to finish under these circumstances.

Tracing one of her hands up from the shelf of his shoulder, she laced her fingers through the curls on her back of his head. It took all her attention to keep herself from growing distracted once she curled her fingers through the waves in a firm grip. Tipping her head to the side, she urged him to the soft skin of her throat.

"H-Harry, please," she begged, hoping he would understand what she wanted without having to waste the time to spell it out.

A heavy moan fell from his lips when he saw what she was directing him towards. His cock jumped in her pussy, his tip pressing headily against the ridges of her walls, his hips directing a particularly harsh thrust against hers, splitting her open that much more.

"Y'want me to bite you, darling? Fuck, you're so sexy, puppy."

She didn't need to do anything more than pathetically breathe out a small uh-huh before she felt that faint scratch of his teeth over the delicate skin. A shudder traveled down her spine, the rhythm of Harry's thrusting not even skipping a beat.

"Hold onto me, puppy," Harry murmured just a breath before she felt the slice of his teeth sinking into her skin.

For the first time since pushing inside her, the rocking of his hips stuttered in their curated pace. Bottomed out, he rolled his hips into her with her clit still being prodded by his fingertips. The initial sting of his teeth lasted barely a heartbeat for (Y/N) before she was flooded with the euphoria Harry was already experiencing. Whatever it was that made his bite so dizzying was doing its job by melting her into his hold, turning her completely pliant and ready to be any and everything he wanted. The soft press of his lips around the bite was the cut of clarity she needed in that moment, otherwise she would have been lost in the sound of his low moan and the all encompassing hold he had on her.

(Y/N)'s head was elsewhere, focusing only on him as she felt her stomach tighten with every pull of blood he took from her. Unsure of where the strength came from, she managed to whimper in a breathless voice, "I'm-I'm gonna cum, Harry."

His response came in the form of a rumbling groan, his remaining hand on her hip snaking around to curl around her middle. She could feel the strength of his touch, complimented by a harsh thrust against her swollen pussy. His touch on her clit quickened, making her cry out once more in a shapeless moan.

It was all too much, bringing a layer of tears to her closed eyes just before everything came to a head. The twist in her stomach tightened until it unraveled into a shredded ribbon. Her walls pulsed around his cock, her wetness gushing around him with slick noises sounding from where he sunk into her. When those first waves hit, her nails digging into his shoulder with her head thrown back, she felt Harry unlatch from her neck just as his own high hit.

"Oh—fuck—puppy," he groaned, his movements lagging as soon as she felt the first wave of his cum hit inside her.

He dropped his forehead to rest on the shelf of her collarbone, his hips rocking against hers as best as he could manage the more he sunk into the pleasure of her taste in his mouth and her pussy around his cock. Her walls shuddered around him, her thighs closing in on his hips as her body clung to him. Every rope warmed her compared to his icy touch, prolonging her pleasure that much longer until she could feel him slowing down.

Coming down to earth in slow beats, Harry wrapped his arms around her, leaving (Y/N) to melt into his hold. Her eyes were shuttered closed, her heart beating hard against her ribcage. Looping her own arms around his neck, she buried her face in the mussed curls on the top of his head. Her breathing came in pants as the world reluctantly came into focus around her.

Harry seemed to recover first, stirring in her arms until he was pressing his lips against her collarbones and dragging them across her décolletage. He painted a delicate trail, never fully lifting his mouth from her skin as he moved up towards her throat. Pausing over the spot he had bitten from, he swiping his tongue carefully over the small wound he'd made, taking care to clean up the small mess he'd left behind and sealing her bite before he made his way towards her jaw. He skimmed over the soft line, his nose glancing off her skin just as carefully. Tipping her head up, (Y/N) met him halfway, tenderly placing her lips against his.

He was always terribly careful when kissing her after having bitten from her, never wanting to give her a taste of anything too human on his tongue. He allowed only a small press before he was pulling away and puckering against the corner of her mouth to the apple of her cheek and the tip of her nose.

"Are y'alright, petal?" he murmured against her skin, shuffling until he was laying flat on his back with her atop him. The shifting had his softening cock brushing against her sensitive walls, a small shudder skating down the knobs of her spine.

"I'm okay," she breathed, blinking her eyes open to see his own still shuttered—and they would stay that way until he was certain there was no more bloody red sclera for her to see. "Are you?"

His features softened into a warm smile, matching the slight flush that had been freshly added to his cheeks. "I am more than well, darling. Thank you for asking."

A plume of laughter fell from her lips as she settled against him. She knew she should probably get up and dress in something warm enough to cuddle with him, clean herself up before completely relaxing, but she couldn't find the motivation to move off of him. He was far too comfortable, his hold too rewarding to give up in favor of putting on a shirt before she was shivering in his hold.

Harry seemed to have other ideas as he shifted under her. "Let's clean you up, petal. Then, I can put you to sleep while I make dinner, yes?"

"No," she countered with a whine, clinging to him before he could move them from the haven of their bed, "Not yet."

She felt his laugh more than she heard it from where she laid against his chest. He tightened his hold around her as he dropped a smiling kiss to the crown of her head. "Not even if I come with you?" he bribed, hoping to coax her with the soft inflection on his voice and careful touch as he tightened his hold around her, "We can even nap afterwards, if you'd like. You'll feel better after changing, my love."

"You'll go with me?" she repeated, her voice decidedly smaller as she spoke against his skin. It didn't sound so bad if he cleaned up with her (that usually meant he did all the work anyway, picking out her clothes and washing her hair without her lifting a finger).

"Mhm," he hummed, collecting her against his chest as he started to shift on the mattress, moving stand with her still clinging to his form. "Can't leave my petal all alone after a game like that, can I?"

(Y/N) could only shake her head, playing along with him as he carried her into the bathroom.

She definitely liked his games a lot more than her own.

—————

first vamp h blurb in a while esp a fun one so I hope everyone likes it! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if yu have any ideas you wnat too share please send them in!

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lunarduty · 3 months

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𝙋𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝙄𝙍𝙏 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙊 𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝘽𝙀𝘿

☾ sfw & nsfw headcanons for dating soap JOHNNY 'SOAP' MACTAVISH X F!READER TAGS | nsfw. smut. oral (female receiving). female reader. WC | 2,063 x

SFW

☾ in his mind, he was already your boyfriend before even becoming official. soap is fiercely LOYAL and dedicated - just as soon as he realized the depths of his feelings, he was yours before you even knew it. stopped so much as looking at other people, much less thinking or fantasizing about them. for soap, you were it. he just had to convince you to go out with a guy like him, which is very soap. not always looking before he jumps.

☾ he loves calling himself your boyfriend, or calling you his girl. soap isn’t one to try and make it lowkey or anything. he wouldn’t be unprofessional - disrespecting or making you look bad is the last thing he wants. but soap will insert the fact into mundane little conversations whenever he can. the team quickly gets tired of it long before he does.

“soap, you joining us for drinks after the debrief?” “don’t know,” he says, sounding awfully CHIPPER for someone who might miss out on a night at the pub. “gotta check in with my girl, see if she wants to do anything tonight. missed out on lunch with her, y’know.” he was still beating himself up over that. you kept insisting it was fine - you both have crazy schedules sometimes. but soap didn’t want to make it a habit of blowing you off. gaz nodded like he agreed - soap didn’t think he really got what it meant to be your boyfriend.

☾ his favorite thing in the world is making you laugh, and he does it so easily. and a lot of the time, he doesn’t even mean to. soap can be blunt and cheeky sometimes, and his smart mouth has gotten him in hot water more often than not - but he’s always very happy to make you laugh, even accidentally. always acts kinda proud when his jokes land perfectly. or if he’s not in a great mood, but ends up saying something that makes you laugh, it always brightens his mood.

☾ while he usually finds one petname and sticks with it, soap is known to call you different ones - each worse and more SAPPY than the last. they’re never spoken seriously, he just enjoys seeing your nose wrinkle and look at him as if he just tracked dog shit into the house. it’s one of his favorite ways to tease you without feeling like he’s going too far, like he does with some of his mates.

with his nose buried against your neck, and the slowly thump of your heart vibrating on his chest, soap was damn near close to following you into unconsciousness. it had been a chaotic last few days - the mere chance to cuddle up with you in bed had him relaxed beyond the point of needing a quick fuck to tire him out. at least until you shifted your legs, and your icy toes pressed against his legs. “fuck, lass. toes are fuckin’ freezing,” he hisses against your shoulder. you just hum, not bothering to reply, more interested in finally falling asleep. he hums in return, and condemns himself to the icy torture. “lucky i love ya, my l’il popsicle.” “jesus, johnny.”

☾ generally enjoys going out on dates than staying home. of course, if you’re more of a homebody or he just doesn’t feel up to going out, a home date is perfectly fine with him. but soap likes going out and experiencing things - most of all, he wants to show you off. absolutely loves walking down the street with you on his arm, or you pulled against his side. tries to get some leave every few months so you two can travel somewhere, but usually, soap’s idea of a good date is simply going somewhere and having fun.

☾ gets super soft when you start getting comfortable around him. before the relationship began, you two were good friends - there was already a layer of comfort and familiarity before, but it’s different when you start dating. so one night, when you both are just chilling on the couch, and you start cackling at a joke on the TV or ugly-crying during a sad scene, soap just REVELS in it. he’s heard how far some people go not to show certain sides of themselves to their partners, and he’s super pleased that you don’t feel like you need to do that with him. on the flip side, soap immediately gets super goofy with you right off the bat, so it’s not like you’re alone in your silliness.

☾ don’t think you can outkiss this man. don’t even try to challenge him. soap mactavish is a man made for kissing and he will do it all day if you let him. your eyes in the morning to wake you up, on your cheek before he leaves, your hand after meeting up for lunch, your lips when he gets home at the end of the day, your neck while doing the dishes, your forehead after a good fuck before falling asleep. soap loves being able to kiss you whenever he wants and he takes full advantage of that privilege.

☾ arguments aren’t super common, but they do happen. soap can be stubborn and sometimes doesn’t see the wider picture. he forgets to take your feelings into account. arguments are usually resolved pretty painlessly, since soap knows he can be dumb sometimes and he doesn’t let his pride get in the way of apologizing. even still, he likes to go out of his way when it comes to make ups. he doesn’t like feeling guilty and can go a little overboard in comparison to the argument.

“so, you forgive me yet, bonnie?” “hmm,” you draw out the hum, even if the smile on your face negates the tension, “i haven’t decided yet.” suppressing his own grin, johnny throws his hands up in defeat. reclines back in his chair with a sigh and a shake of his head - always with the theatrics. “yeah, i figured ya say that. but i’ve learned to never enter a battle without a secret weapon.” “making up for a fight is a battle for you, is it?” your question, though a joke, made him pause. “well, no, i didn’t- fuck’s sake, lass. take it easy on me.” johnny stands, his hands clapping together. “i was listenin’, though. i know you feel all alone when i’m gone so much, and i’m sorry. wish i could change it.” of course, you knew he couldn’t just uproot his whole life. some of the things you said during the argument weren’t even exactly how you felt - just something said in the moment. “johnny, hold on, i didn’t mean-” “hey, hey, i’m not done.” he backs away from you toward the bedroom. “last thing i want is you to be here feelin’ all LONELY again. so i got something to fix all that.” he finally turns and makes for the bedroom door. when you stand and follow to watch, you notice how carefully he opened and slid right past. like he didn’t want you coming in. but you realized right away it was because he didn’t want something getting out. “a puppy? john, this is-” “great, right? can cuddle up to him when i’m not here!”

☾ definitely thinks about marriage super early on, but doesn’t really bring it up because he doesn’t wanna come off as weird or creepy. but honestly, soap knew you were the one right away. he’s not out looking at rings or wedding venues - he just kinda ACCEPTS that he’s gonna marry you. might make little jokes or comments here and there. jokingly calls you his wife or “the missus.” so when he eventually does pop the question, he’s a little taken aback when you’re caught off guard. and then he remembers that, oh yeah, he’s always been mentally married to you since basically forever.

NSFW

☾ it’s not hard at all to tell when soap is in the mood. he’s going to get very touchy if you let him - from soft grazes of his fingers along your skin to straight up groping your ass when you walk by. he is an absolute menace when he’s horny. loves coming up behind you when you’re doing something and just squeezing your hips and kissing your neck. grinds his cock against your ass, as if it isn’t painfully obvious how wound up he is.

☾ foreplay with soap is more fun than anything. there are rare moments when he’s silent and serious and focused, but mostly, he likes to keep it light. makes you laugh before sucking on your tits to take your breath away. says some dumb comment when you’re grinding against his thigh to distract you, only to suddenly change pace and laugh when you whimper. he sees sex with you as something to 100% ENJOY and making sure the both of you have fun with it…

☾ …that is until soap gets completely pussy-drunk off you and just shuts the fuck up and enters this kind of tunnel vision when he’s eating you out. it happens a good 60% of the time - he starts out his usual light and teasing self, kissing your thighs, asking you if you want to fuck his mouth. but just as soon as he gets his tongue on your clit and his fingers buried knuckle-deep, it’s so easy for him to just get lost in it. will make you cum twice before he realizes it, and is almost confused when you’re begging him to stop, or at least give you a break.

“fu- fuck, johnny! i can’t- shit, you need to stop.” those words seem to finally break him of his little trance. your little moans and whimpers of his name are always MELODIC in a way that makes him want to hear more and more. but hearing you ask him to stop makes soap blink and pull his face away - lips parted in his panting, chin glistening. “okay, bonnie?” he asks, a hand squeezing your hip. you’re breathing hard. skin flushed. chin tilted upward with your eyes closed and he wonders just how hard you came. or how many times. “i’m okay,” you answer quickly. “just…need a break. or just fuck me - that works too.” a wide grin spreads over his face, and when he pulls his fingers free, the soft squelching sound almost makes him shiver. “just said the fuckin’ magic words, beautiful.”

☾ not at all picky with positions, so he usually just tries a bunch of different ones or follows your lead. there’s something to enjoy with all of them, so how can he have a favorite? fucking you in missionary gets him on top, where he feels so big and strong and loves feeling you hold onto him like your life depends on it. when you ride him, he gets to watch your face the entire time, or play with your tits, or do anything he wants. getting you in doggy is great when soap is feeling especially FERAL and just wants to drive into you, grabbing your ass, tugging on your hair when he feels like he can’t hear you well enough. gun to his head, he can’t pick just one.

☾ soap does have a preference when he cums. as fucking fantastic as it feels to cum inside you, there’s something otherwordly about pulling out and painting your skin. he saves creampies for slow and sleepy sex (or when you beg for it), but every other time? soap is cumming on your back, your belly, your thighs, your face, your tits. anywhere and everywhere is fair game for him. he’s definitely taken a picture when the sight is too good to leave to memory. eventually deletes them because he doesn’t want them to somehow get out, but not before using it as wank material while he’s away.

☾ very gentle and attentive with aftercare. sex with soap isn’t especially rough or intense most of the time, but he still doesn’t slack on it. kissing you good and proper after you both cum, letting you know just how much he loves you. always gets something to clean you up and talking while he does so - soap is a chatterbox anyway, but more so after sex because he doesn’t want you to start feeling awkward. lots of cuddles and touches when he climbs into bed - but be warned, he does tend to nod off pretty soon.

#call of duty x reader #cod fanfic #cod x reader #call of duty smut #soap x reader #soap smut #johnny mactavish x reader #soap mactavish fanfic

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imfinereallyy · 6 months

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Dinner Date

For STWG daily drabble and, more importantly, for Goldie @steventhusiast. Happy Birthday, you deserve the world. I know you’re asleep right now, but it’s technically still your bday here.

“Dingus, this is a really fancy restaurant.” Robin leans back in her chair, but her hand plays with the fork on her napkin.

Steve sips his wine; some of it tips over the edge onto the tablecloth. “What? Can’t a guy take his best friend out to a fancy dinner?” He tilts his head and takes in his best friend. What was once an awkward teen now had a beautiful, but still awkward, woman in her place.

“Steve, I love our friend dates, but usually they take place in a greasy diner or dollar pizza.” Robin picks the fork up and starts twirling it into her napkin. Steve watches her get mesmerized by the wrinkles that wrapped around the silverware, even though they both know the napkin should be in her lap by now.

Steve smiles softly, moves his napkin from his lap to the table, and begins to mimic Robin. “Okay, maybe I wanted it to be a special occasion.”

Robin giggles at Steve's poor fork-twirling form and leans over the table to fix it for him. “All occasions are special when we are together, so that doesn’t really mean much.” Robin’s nose scrunches in concentration as she gently guides Steve’s hand. She has done this plenty of times before, guiding Steve where he needed to be. Like taking him to the bookstore near her college so he wouldn’t have to go into sex with Eddie blind, or when she taught him how to whisk eggs properly. Both are equally important skills he now uses in his everyday life. “But you seemed nervous. You keep sipping your wine, and I know for a fact that you hate dry wine.”

Steve puts down the glass that was halfway to his mouth, “It’s not my fault Moscato tastes like candy!”

Robin snorts, “Seriously, Dingus. It’s just me. What’s up?”

Steve puts down the fork and his glass and looks Robin in the eye. “I wanted to ask you to be my best man.”

Steve expects a lot of reactions out of her: excitement, an eye roll, hell, even straight-up rejection. Maybe a little speech about how weddings for them aren’t even legal. Instead, a look of betrayal crosses her face. “You asked Eddie to marry you, and you didn’t even tell me you were proposing?”

Immediately, Steve clenches his stomach in outrageous laughter, nearly having to bend over the table. Steve tries to take Robin seriously; he really does. But she is supposed to be the smart one out of the two of them.

Rage takes over Robin completely as she reaches over the table to start slapping Steve’s arm. “Don’t laugh, you asshat! I am actually mad at you!”

“Ow—” Steve laughs. “Ow, Robin!” Another giggle escapes him as he gets her to sit back in her chair. “I’m laughing because, of course, I didn’t propose to Eddie without talking to you first.”

Robin settles a bit at this, “I’m confused.”

Steve reaches for her hand across the table; Robin doesn’t hesitate to wrap her fingers around his. “I’m asking you to be my Best Man first, doofus. Before I even pick out the damn ring. Which I definitely need you to steal one of Eddie’s rings for me so I can get the size; man watches those things like a hawk.”

Robin squeezes his hand, “Wait, why would you ask me that first? Isn’t that kind of backwards.”

“I do everything kind of backwards, babe. Kinda the Steve Harrington special.” Steve rubs a thumb against the back of soulmate's hand. “Of course, I ask you about being my best man first. There would be no wedding without you, so if you say no, there would be no proposing.”

Steve could see tears beginning to fill Robin’s eyes, “What are you saying?”

“Whoever gets stuck with me gets stuck with you. We’re a package deal, babe.”

Robin throws herself across the table, knocking the wine everywhere. Steve laughs and clenches her tightly. “Of course, I’ll be your best man! Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t hurt yourself going down the aisle.” She sobs.

Steve’s throat gets thick, “Pretty sure that’s the father's job, Robs. And you’d have to fight Jim for that role.”

“Fine.” Robin sniffs, leaning back to look him in the eye. “But I get stand by your side as you make a complete fool of yourself with your vows.”

“Deal.”

Robin leans forward, placing her forehead against Steve’s. “You and me against the world, babe.”

Steve hugs her tight, “You and me against the world.”

#stobin #steddie #steve and robin both call eachother babe #its canon #i dont make the rules #happy birthday gold!!!!#i asked them what they like in stranger things fic #and they said stobin with a side of steddie #so bet say less you got it hon #steven harrington #robin buckley #platonic soulmates stobin #my writing #platonic stobin

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thef1diary · 2 months

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Little Big Fan | Ten

— Little Big Date Night

Series Masterlist

wc: 1.9k

If you could characterize Max in a single word, it would be "perfect." Although it may be argued that everyone has flaws, you would also consider his imperfections to be perfect as well.

From the day you two met until now and possibly even beyond, your life has changed so drastically that you can't remember how you used to spend your days without Max. He was a welcomed friend, and after tonight, he is even more than a friend.

You couldn't help but admire him as he sat in front of you, trying to contain his energetic hand gestures to a minimum while speaking to you. You wanted to interrupt and tell him how much you liked that particular trait of his, but that would require him to drop your hands, and you quite frankly enjoyed the warmth his hands exuded.

As promised, Max took you out on a date as soon as he returned from the race. If it were up to him, he would've planned to go out on the same night, but you convinced him for the day after, especially as you needed a babysitter for Isabella.

Speaking of, your daughter was currently at home with your best friend, who had quickly become a lifesaver offering to keep Isabella company while you spent the evening out with Max.

You couldn't consider dropping Isabella off at Tyler's, not after what she told you, so you decided to call your friend. Fortunately, her response was, "of course I can! Go get a boyfriend already,"

Since your actual first date didn't go as planned, you decided to wear the red dress that you put away last time in hopes of gaining some luck. Max, ever the gentleman, had crossed off every point in your mental checklist for a first date.

From standing at your front door suited up and carrying a bouquet of flowers—specifically sunflowers—to making you grin and laugh throughout the evening, Max was doing all the right things.

You were slightly nervous about tonight, yet there was nothing to be worried about. Not after you'd calmed down and realized that this date felt just like the way you usually spent time with Max, albeit a little fancier.

Although you kept your wine intake to a minimum, you still felt the buzzing energy running through you, but perhaps that was all due to his presence.

Soon, dinner was over but you weren't ready for the night to end just yet. As Max drove out of the parking lot, you turned to him with a smile creeping up your face as you thought of an idea.

"Do you wanna stop by the beach that we passed on the way here?" You asked, and he raised his eyebrow in question, "at night?"

You shrugged, "why not? Less people," you managed to convince him. "I'm glad you thought of something because I didn't want to drop you home just yet," he grabbed your hand, bringing the entwined fingers up to place a kiss on the back of your hand.

He didn't let go of your hand until he parked—possibly illegally—near the beach. You checked your phone for any notifications specifically from your friend, but there weren't any new messages. Choosing to leave your phone in the car, you quickly stepped out and rushed towards the sand with a small laugh leaving your mouth.

You walked until the edge of the pavement, looking down at your heels then at the sand.

Max, catching up behind you after he took an extra moment to leave his blazer in the car, chuckled once he saw your rather amusing dilemma. "Don't laugh," you muttered halfheartedly.

You reached down and slightly lifted your foot to the side at the same time to remove your heels, but Max stopped you. "Let me," he suggested, kneeling down and undoing the straps on your heels. Brushing your hand through his hair with a smile on your face, you commented, "you're too kind."

"You deserve it," he looked up at you for a moment, the wrinkles deepening on the corner of his eyes as he smiled.

Once your heels were off, Max held them in one hand while his other hand held yours. The way your palm fit against his so naturally, fingers entwined, it felt like an old habit which you weren't opposed to at all. You leaned closer to him, while watching the waves crashing against the shore further away.

A breeze passed through your hair, harshly increasing as you neared the water. You mentally thanked your past self for choosing a matte lipstick instead of a gloss otherwise your hair would've been stuck to your lips, making a mess.

Once you were closer to the waves of water, it submerged your feet every once in a while as you walked along the length of the beach.

"This is so peaceful," Max commented, making you hum in agreement. "There's no one else here," you added. While Max's gaze was focused on you, he didn't notice how you mischievously walked closer to the water, bringing him along since your hands were still clasped together.

That was until you reached down when he briefly looked away and splashed some water towards him. Startled, Max took a few steps back, dropping your hand while your laughter rang in the open air. He watched you with an unhappy expression but it quickly turned into a look of amusement as he chuckled. "You have no idea what you just started, darling."

As he reached for you, you quickly stepped away and raised your brow, "oh yeah, what's that?"

"War," he responded cheekily, catching you off guard for a moment that was enough time to return the favour. "Max!" You exclaimed, brushing the few wet strands of your hair out of your face.

You chased him, each step ruining the silence of the night with the sound of splashing water. "C'mon, you have to be faster than that," Max turned to face you but still kept running further away.

"Fuck!" You shrieked, landing flat on your ass right at the same time as a wave crashed over the drying sand. Max instantly stopped in his tracks, his look of amusement quickly turning into worry as he saw you clutching your foot.

"Are you okay?" He neared you, crouching down when you shook your head. "It hurts," you mutter.

"What hurts?" He reached out to touch your ankle which he assumed was the issue, but with the incoming wave, you used your entire arm to bring a larger splash onto him. "Your ego I assume," you responded, throwing your head back with a laugh as you saw the defeated look on his face.

"I really fell for that huh?" He asked, mainly to himself as you stood up without any actual injuries. "Never wager a war against me, sweetheart, I'll always win."

Max pulled you back down, right onto his lap with a hand resting on your lower back, "I've got to say, that was clever but you won't always win." You rested your arms on his shoulders, "we'll see."

You still had a mischievous glint in your eyes but it quickly dissipated and was replaced with admiration once you noticed the way Max looked at you. From direct eye contact, his gaze moved to focus on different parts of your face, as if he wanted to memorize every inch.

You knew the exact moment he noticed the scar underneath your chin from a childhood injury, as well as the faint freckles that only seem to darken in sunlight.

Underneath the moonlit night, with the sounds of the waves calming down, all you could focus on was your heartbeat picking up with both nervousness and excitement.

His intense gaze should’ve made you want to look away, to make you want to squirm until he stopped looking, but you had never felt as seen as you did now, and quite frankly you enjoyed the attention.

Max’s other hand found its way to your cheek, fingers grazing with a featherlight touch. "I am so glad that I met you," he muttered, fingers moving down to your chin slightly pulling you even closer.

You held the eye contact with him when you spoke, "me too," proving that there was nothing but truth behind your words. Your eyes only fluttered closed when you felt his lips grazing yours, barely millimetres away.

"Kiss me," you mumbled against his lips and as soon as he registered those words in his mind, he pressed his lips against yours completely.

Even though you knew it was coming, your breath stuttered once his lips were on yours, pressing so gently yet so full of want. Your hand wandered into his hair, a way to bring him even closer while the other settled on the nape of his neck.

Then he parted away slightly, inhaling as his half-lidded eyes studied your expressions intently. Your palms touched his cheeks, knowing you needed more now that you'd gotten a taste of what else was possible. It took two seconds for your lips to crash against his, this time with greater urgency and intense yearning.

He responded with just as much energy, not rushed at all but filled with passion. His tongue parts your lips and you welcomed the intrusion gladly. Your hands slid down to his chest and if you didn’t feel the pulse of your own heart beating all the way down to your fingertips, you would’ve felt his beating just as fast underneath your palm.

You genuinely didn’t believe that you could want someone to the point where you’d happily sacrifice your breaths to be kissed like this, not until Max.

You didn't appear to be the only one losing track of your surroundings, since as soon as Max leaned back in an invitation to hold you closer on his lap, his hand slipped in the sand. Taking you with him, you both landed on the floor, though your fall was softer than his.

The look of shock quickly turned into laughter, both of you realizing how incredibly lost you were in each other. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I think we should dry off now,” you muttered against his neck, your actions contradicting your words.

Leaning back on his elbows, he nodded, “we should.” Standing up, you returned to his car but with the sand and water covering your outfits, you couldn’t possibly sit inside.

Instead, you sat on the hood of the car, leaning back and looking up at the sky. “It’s so beautiful,” you commented, noticing the twinkling stars shining down upon you. “It is,” Max replied although his gaze was on you rather than the stars.

You turned to look at him, a chuckle bubbling up, “such a sap,” you muttered before he joined you on the hood. “You like it,” he retorted, and you resorted to watching the sky again because he wasn’t wrong.

Shuffling closer to him, you rested your head on his chest while absentmindedly tracing patterns with your fingers. One of his arms was folded back behind his head while the other wrapped around you, keeping you as close to him as possible.

“You know we won’t dry if we stay like this, right?” You asked or rather hummed. “We can spare a few extra minutes if it means you’ll stay right here with me.”

You smiled, “I’ll always be right here with you.”

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#max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #f1 fluff #f1blr #f1 x reader #thef1diary fic #little big fan fic

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st4rfckerz · 2 months

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mdni 18+

hayden's warm arms wrapped around your body tightly. his lips grazed the side of your neck, teasing your skin with his warm breath, causing you to shiver. "you're driving me crazy," he whispered huskily, as he gently nibbled on your earlobe. his hand slid down your back, gripping your ass tightly. your soft curves press against his firm muscles. he couldn't help but grin, his excitement palpable as he felt your body heat against his. he, too, allowed himself to relax into you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist to pull you closer.

"hold on, just-" hayden pulls back slightly to look at you again. his eyes, filled with years of wisdom and experience, held a hint of concern as he looked at you. he brushes a stray lock of hair from your face as his gaze lingers. "i'm too old for you sweetheart," he sighs, his voice tinged with regret.

"you make me feel things i haven't felt in years, things i thought i'd never feel again," he admitted, his voice sounded soft yet gruff as a result of his long smoking history. "but what will everyone say?"

yours and hayden's significant age gap has been weighing on his mind lately. especially considering that the media has been publicly releasing photos of you two being seen together frequently, which naturally caused fans to start raving about the possibility of you and hayden becoming romantically involved right away.

"i don't care, and i know you don't too." your hands traced along his muscular arms, feeling the warmth radiating from his body. you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his neck, leaving a trail of wetness behind. "just need you hay, please? who cares what they think?" your hips accidentally rock sweetly against his own, a low groan erupts in his throat. your words were filled with conviction and determination, punctuated by a soft moan as you felt his hand squeeze your ass.

"you really want this don't you?" he says, his voice low and intense. you nod your head slightly as you trace his jaw, admiring the wrinkled crows feet near his eyes.

with a smirk, he runs large palms along your exposed thighs, his fingers just barely touching your most sensitive area. he pulled away for a moment, his eyes locked on your face as he brought his thumb to trace across your bottom lip. "my sweet little girl," he whispered, his voice thick with lust. his eyes never left your face as he pushed his thumb into your mouth.

he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. you can feel the pad of his big thumb gently massaging the wet muscle as he speaks. "just can't get enough of you," he mumbles, his voice rough with need. his thumb slipped away from your mouth, leaving you craving more. hayden grasps your hand and brings it down to cup his very obvious erection. "see what you do to me?"

your hand squeezed him gently, feeling his hardness pulsing in your palm. his hips bucked slightly, pushing against your hand, seeking more friction as you stroked him through his pants. his fingers fumble slightly as he undid the buttons of his pants, his cock finally springing free.

"let me show you how much you mean to me."

#nai writes ୨୧ #hayden christensen #hayden christensen blurb #hayden christensen drabble #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen smut #st4rfckerz

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bellaxgiornata · 2 months

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Seeking Forgiveness [Part Eight]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 6.4k

[Summary and Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader, mentions/fear of miscarriage

a/n: It's been awhile since this fic finally had an update, but here y'all go! Make sure you heed the added warning for this chapter--mentions/fear of miscarriage will be found in this update. Feedback is always appreciated!

Holding the soft cotton baby pajamas up in front of yourself, a faint smile ghosted over your lips. Unconsciously your left hand dropped down, landing on the swell of your growing bump as your eyes traced the cute pattern of white bunnies prancing around the yellow fabric.

As you stood there staring at the pajamas in your hand, you could see a picture beginning to clearly form in your mind. A little baby with a dusting of dark hair like Matt’s was cradled in your arms, wearing this onesie. A clearly exhausted Matt shuffled his way into the bedroom, heading over towards you with a prepared bottle in his hand, his eyes half-lidded. His tee-shirt was wrinkled and stained with a bit of old spit up near the collar, but he clearly hadn't bothered to change. The only thing he seemed concerned about was his daughter in your arms.

When he reached the pair of you, he extended his arms out to take her from you, eager to feed her. You passed her gently off to him, watching as he held her so carefully in his arms, pulling her in towards his chest like she was the most fragile thing on Earth. And then he'd lean down towards where she was cradled in the crook of his arm, talking in hushed tones with a broad smile on his face as tiny fingers reached up, brushing along the stubble of his jaw while he spoke.

An expression full of warmth and love broke out across Matt's face, his eyes crinkled at the corners as he gazed down at the little baby in his arms hungrily drinking down the formula from the bottle with happy, soft little squeaks and grunts. That glimmer of love in his eyes only grew more as he glanced back up at you, a smile full of joy and pride stretched wide across his mouth despite the fact that it was three in the morning.

“I cannot believe you're having a girl!”

The sound of Marci’s excited voice had the mental image quickly fading from your mind. Tongue feeling suddenly thick in your mouth, you blinked back the tears threatening to spill forth as that smile on Matt's face vanished from your mind completely.

It had been a beautiful image while you'd imagined it, at least.

Clearing your throat, you set the pajamas back onto the display table. Your gaze lowered to your bump, your hand affectionately running across it.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Finding out I'm having a girl definitely made this feel even more real than it already had been.”

“Are you going to tell Matt?” Karen asked from behind the display table, her blonde brows high on her forehead. “That you found out you're having a girl?”

You nodded, your attention returning to the little yellow onesie you'd set back down. Running your fingers across the fabric, an ache hit you hard in the chest. You did your best to ignore it.

“I am, yeah,” you replied, glancing back up at her. “But I just found out this morning and I…don't exactly know how to tell him, you know? We've exchanged a few texts since he stopped by the other week and dropped off that pregnancy pillow and weighted blanket, but things are still a little odd between us. And I feel like this is news you share with the father in person, not in a text.”

“So you've been talking?” Marci asked curiously.

You watched as she pulled a tiny hanger from the rack she was looking at, lifting up a small green dress and showing it to Karen. The pair audibly cooed at the little outfit.

“A little,” you admitted to her. “It's hard for me to talk on the phone with him because hearing his voice is just…hard. It makes me wish things were like they were before.” The smile on your face faltered as you stepped away from the table, glancing at the vastly overpriced baby outfits on another nearby rack. “I admitted to him that phone calls are still a bit much for me, so he's been texting instead. Even though I know how irritating the speech to text feature on his phone is to him. So I get it. He is trying.”

“Certainly hasn't bailed yet,” Marci muttered, hanging the dress back on the rack. “Which I'm honestly proud of him for.”

You caught the pointed look Karen sent you and you sighed, aware of what that look meant.

“Yeah, I've noticed,” you confessed. “I see he's trying to be present. I see how emotional he gets at the thought of not actually actively raising this child. But here's the thing,” you continued, both women now focused on you. “I'm bringing a baby into this world, right? I'm not adopting a puppy. We're talking about a little human. Someone who's going to be shaped by their parents and how they're brought up and raised. Someone who is completely dependent on us to take care of them for years . And meanwhile, Matt does…well–” you waved a hand in front of yourself, “– that in the evenings. I think it's only realistic that I'm concerned about how serious he is when it comes to actually being there for the both of us after how he wasn't there for me the one time I needed him. I need to know I can actually count on him, especially when things get difficult. Or exhausting. Or if there's an emergency. The city can’t always come first, even if I admire him for what he does.”

“But he is trying to show you that,” Karen pointed out gently. “He messed up and he knows that. Believe me, he does. And while I completely understand your side, it's not like Matt isn't trying to earn your forgiveness and prove all of that to you, too. But it's sort of dependent on you giving him a chance to show you that.”

Running a hand across your forehead, you nodded. “I know,” you told her softly. “I know. Which is why I've been trying to give him that chance. It's probably better that I do before the baby comes when emotions will be even higher and things will be more complicated.”

Eyes dropping down to your feet, you nervously chewed your lip. You’d been leaning towards giving him that chance he’d so desperately and repeatedly been begging you for ever since he’d last stopped by, especially after seeing how much the thought of not being an active parent to his child really upset him. But that didn’t mean you weren’t still scared to give him that chance. To open up and let him back in knowing he could hurt more than just you this time.

“It’s just hard to willingly let him back in after what happened. After how he'd hurt me. Because I’m honestly afraid of getting hurt again,” you confessed. “And not just me, but I’m scared of his daughter getting hurt. Of him not being there for her like she’s going to need him to be.”

“You know, I’m surprising myself by saying this,” Marci chimed in, “but I agree with Karen. At first, after hearing the news that you were pregnant, I absolutely could not picture Matt wanting to be a present father with how much he does, well, you-know-what at night. But with how much he’s been over at our place talking to Foggy and I the past few weeks?” She shook her head, tsk’ing lightly. “Let’s just say I fear for the man, woman, or child that dares to say a single mean word to his daughter. I mean that man is fiercely protective over the both of you. I don’t think you have to worry about him not being there when either of you need him.”

Something warm slowly filled you at Marci’s words. Something like a tiny spark of hope. You hadn’t known he’d been going over to their place and saying these things, worrying about the pair of you so much. Granted, you hadn’t spoken to him much in months now so you didn't really know what he'd been up to lately.

“Really?” you asked her, the threat of tears returning for a different reason.

Both Karen and Marci nodded their heads firmly, your eyes jumping between the two. That spark of hope burned a little hotter in your chest.

“He’s still in love with you,” Karen told you before pointing a finger at your belly. “And I can assure you, he loves that baby just as much as he loves you already.”

Crouched on the corner of a six-story apartment building’s roof, Matt’s head dipped and turned as he tried to remain focused on a conversation occurring in a nearby warehouse. He was doing his best to block out all the other distractions around him–like the sounds of car horns and the traffic below, sirens screeching in the distance as an ambulance made its way to the hospital, or the various arguments coming from inside the building he was perched atop.

Something was happening tonight in his city. He could feel it.

But as he tried to follow the conversation occurring half a block over, another noise abruptly broke through his carefully crafted concentration. Matt's gloved hands gripped the edge of the roof at the sound of it, his head instantly darting over his shoulder as the noise quickly overtook the sound of everything else.

Truthfully, he’d been attempting not to eavesdrop on you lately, trying to respect your wishes when he was out at night. Honestly he had been, too, especially since you’d actually been talking to him again, letting him in a little more even if it was only through texts here and there over this past week. He hadn't wanted to risk ruining the progress he'd suddenly made with you by trying to push your boundaries any further.

But he absolutely couldn’t ignore the sound of distress coming from you in your apartment just a block behind him.

You were crying. But not just crying in the usual way someone would if they were sad–something mournful and soft. No, it was a heart wrenching sound. Despairing. Painful. A noise that felt like an ice cold hand had gripped his own heart in his chest and squeezed .

Something was wrong.

A pained noise came from Matt as he rose to his feet, instinctively turning in the direction of your apartment. One booted foot took a step in your direction before he immediately halted in place. Gritting his teeth, his mind raced with a myriad of thoughts.

There was definitely a shipment of drugs being moved around in Hell’s Kitchen tonight, he’d absolutely learned that much from the conversation he’d been eavesdropping on. He had been on the cusp of uncovering where it was currently being held. All he needed was a location and he could alert the authorities to handle the rest. The streets of his city would once again be marginally safer because of him if he did.

And you had already repeatedly asked him to stop appearing at your apartment as Daredevil and invading your privacy. If he showed up now, that would surely appear to you like he wasn’t respecting your clear boundaries. Which he knew wasn’t remotely true, but would you understand if he explained that he was just too in tune with you to not subconsciously pick up on a sound of distress like that coming from you ? That he couldn't exactly control his senses picking up on it?

Matt’s gloved hand ran across his mouth in frustration, his eyes snapping shut behind his mask. He was torn.

Did he force himself to ignore your cries in order to not possibly upset you further? To keep respecting your boundaries and to leave you alone like you’d repeatedly asked him to? Which would in turn allow him to attempt to focus on finding that drug shipment tonight instead, something he'd been determined to do. Or did he go to you?

Teeth still grinding back and forth, Matt fought to decide on the right course of action. But at the sound of a particularly heart-wrenching wail coming from your apartment combined with something like the noise of you falling down, his eyes snapped back open and he made up his mind. He didn't care if you threw things at him and yelled him off your fire escape when he showed up. There was absolutely no way in hell he was going to ignore whatever was happening in your apartment. Even if it meant he’d have to show up at your front door and beg you to forgive him on his goddamn knees for the next several months. He needed to make sure you and the baby were alright.

Taking off at a sprint, Matt darted across the roof he was on and headed straight in the direction of your distress. He barely registered much else in the city as he flung himself over rooftop after rooftop, the sound of his own panicked heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears. He was focused solely on you and the continued sobbing in your apartment, trying his best to keep his mind from racing to a number of terrible reasons as to why you might’ve been this upset.

By the time he’d made it onto your building’s rooftop, he quickly dropped down two floors until he landed with a solid thud on your fire escape. He heard your terrified intake of breath from inside your apartment, the sound of your head swiftly turning in the direction of where he was outside your window. He felt bad for startling you as he reached a hand out, knocking on the glass.

He expected you to start shouting. To tell him to go away. To tell him that he was an asshole who couldn’t respect your privacy. That you didn’t want to speak to him anymore because of it. Maybe to throw something at the window even.

What he did not expect was the way you softly sobbed out his name in a way that sounded almost like relief. Or the way your hands had clawed at the couch cushion beside you as you pulled yourself up to your feet, rushing over to the window as more fresh tears spilled down your cheeks.

When you opened the window, the sharp, heavy scent of fear met his nose. The acrid tang was strong in your apartment, almost overpowering the salty taste of your tears in the air. And the sound of your racing and erratic heartbeat was roaring loud in his ears, mingling with the still frantic beating of his own heart. He could barely focus on much else as his own fear levels began to rapidly rise.

And then you surprised him yet again.

Your hands reached out through your window, grabbing desperately onto his shoulders and practically pulling him inside of your apartment. Speechless and concerned, he allowed you to drag him through the opening, moving as fast as he could to get to you. Though the way you whispered his name again as he climbed inside your apartment had his heart constricting in his chest.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he whispered. “What happened?”

He'd barely had a chance to stand upright before your hands on his shoulders yanked him towards yourself. Your arms snaked around his neck, drawing him into a tight embrace as you buried your face right into the armor of his suit as more tears began falling down your cheeks. A strangled sob left your mouth, the heartbreaking sound partially muffled against his body.

Matt didn't hesitate. He wrapped his own arms around your waist and wrenched you in tight to the front of himself. His eyes closed as he buried his face into your hair, breathing in the familiar scent of you. Desperately he wished you were holding him like this under different circumstances because he'd missed you these past few months.

But something was wrong and he needed to focus on that right now.

“Sweetheart, you're scaring me,” he whispered, tears burning at his own eyes behind the mask. “What's got you so upset? Did something happen?”

You murmured something unintelligible against his chest, the words too muffled and disjointed for him to understand.

“What?” he asked.

You pulled away from him, sounding as if you'd turned your head to look up at him as he reluctantly unburied his face from your hair. A large sniffle came from you before you answered him, this time more clearly despite the tremor in your voice.

“There was blood.”

It took Matt a moment to register what you'd said and what you meant. But when he did, he felt something ice cold flood his veins.

“I woke up a bit ago and needed to go to the bathroom. Like usual,” you explained softly. “And then I noticed that I–I was bleeding.” You sniffled again, your voice quivering more noticeably as you continued. “And it scared me. Because I'm terrified that–that something is wrong. With the baby.”

Matt's stomach dropped as you buried your face back against him. His gloved hands gripped your back tighter as he tried to remain calm and process what you'd said.

“Was it a lot of blood?” he asked nervously.

You shook your head against him. “No. Not a lot. Just enough to notice it.”

“Okay, well that's good at least,” he said, running a soothing hand along your back as he tried to keep himself calm. “You're around twelve weeks now, right? It's not entirely abnormal for some bleeding to occur. I don't hear any cramping occurring and–” his head turned, his eyes narrowing as he focused hard to hear the baby's heartbeat over the panicked noises of your own body, “–the baby still seems to have a steady heartbeat in there. Which is–is good. From what I remember reading, that's a good sign that nothing is wrong. It's the first thing a doctor would check for to make sure the baby isn't in any danger. But if you continue bleeding we can certainly get you to a hospital, sweetheart.”

You drew your face partially out his chest, sniffling loudly yet again as Matt continued to stroke your back. It sounded like you had looked up at him, your tears gradually slowing. He focused back down on you, one hand leaving your back to gently brush some hair away from your damp cheeks.

“How do you know all that?” you whispered.

He shrugged a shoulder lightly, his hand still gingerly removing the damp strands of hair from your face that were stuck by tears. “I spend my free time reading up on pregnancy-related things,” he admitted softly. “So that I can maybe help if you need me. In situations like this.”

He heard the faint surprised intake of breath you'd taken at his answer, so quiet you probably hadn't even realized you'd made the sound. He felt your arms wrapping tighter around his neck, holding him close as you buried your face back against his chest. Despite how good it felt to have you back in his arms, Matt focused his senses back onto your body, doing his best to concentrate on the baby for a minute in the silence that filled your apartment.

“I'm not a doctor,” he murmured, still listening, “but nothing sounds different than what I've usually heard. I don't notice any more bleeding, and the lack of cramping is a good sign. Baby's heartbeat seems to be really strong.”

Matt cleared his throat, turning his attention back on you. Your body had calmed in his presence–something that made him feel good but he was afraid to overthink about the why . Though your body still sounded panicked and stressed, something that concerned him.

“Maybe it's best if you take a seat and try to relax,” he suggested gently. “The stress probably isn't good for you or the baby. Let's just focus on calming down now, okay?”

“Right,” you said, the air shifting around you as you nodded against him. “You're right. It was just a little blood so I'm–I’m probably overreacting.”

“You're not overreacting,” he told you, guiding you carefully back to the couch and settling the pair of you down into the cushions. “You were scared. It's understandable.”

Matt sat down on the couch beside you, surprised once more when you scooted closer to him. He reached a hand up, removing the cowl from his head with one hand while running his other through his unkempt hair.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered.

Matt's hand froze in his hair, his attention swiftly focusing on you. “Sorry for what, sweetheart?” he asked.

“For probably scaring the shit out of you tonight,” you replied. “I'm guessing that's why you showed up, right? You heard me freaking out?”

Matt smiled sheepishly back at you, nodding slowly. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I wasn't trying to listen in to your apartment, but you sounded so upset that I couldn't help but overhear you when I was out. I was afraid you'd be upset with me showing up though, because I know you’ve wanted me to stay away, but I couldn't just ignore you like this. I had to make sure everything was alright.”

He heard you sniffling again, your hands wiping at your eyes. Carefully he slid his arm around your shoulders, moving slowly in case he was crossing a boundary and you wanted to tell him to stop. But instead you moved even closer to him, eliminating the space between both of your bodies as you wrapped your arms around his waist. You leaned in, resting your head against his shoulder. A small smile slipped onto Matt's face, his own head carefully lowering to rest atop yours.

“Thank you for coming to check up on me,” you whispered. “I feel better with you here.”

Matt's heart thudded hard in his chest, that cold feeling of dread finally melting straight out of him as he held you against his side. You actually wanted him here. You were comforted by his presence, not upset by it. After the months apart from you which had felt like torture, hearing that had felt far too good.

“I'll always be here when you need me,” he assured you quietly. He hesitated a moment before softly adding, “Though I certainly wish I could be here the times you don't necessarily need me, too.”

He felt your head turn along his shoulder as you settled even more comfortably into the side of him. Your body was relaxing further now that the pair of you had sat down. But Matt could hear just how tired you really were from the sounds of your body and he figured the scare you’d just had hadn’t helped.

“I know,” you replied softly. “Maybe we should have a talk about that. About things between us.”

Hope fluttered in his chest at your words, excitement flooding through him at what that talk might mean. He absolutely wanted to be back in your life far more than he currently was, but he knew right now wasn't the time for that discussion, not after what had just happened and considering how exhausted you sounded to his ears.

“Maybe I can take you for coffee this weekend and we can discuss things,” he said, hoping he didn't sound as over-eager as he felt. “Tonight let's just focus on making sure you and baby are both okay.”

Your head shifted along his shoulder and Matt could feel the way your eyes were on him now. Then he felt the sudden nervous energy that washed over you just before you'd opened and closed your mouth a couple of times. Clearly you wanted to say something but didn't seem to know how. He sat there quiet and patient beside you, wondering what you were struggling to get out.

“This is probably not fair of me to ask considering our…situation,” you eventually began, your nerves apparent to him in your tone, “but could you maybe please stay here with me tonight? In case something does happen?”

That hope in Matt's chest grew further at your question, his body feeling like it could float up through the ceiling right now if he wasn’t more focused on the feel of you at his side. He made you feel safe. Even after how awful he'd been to you and how that had led to the break up, you still wanted him here. To protect both of you. Maybe he hadn't messed things up entirely beyond repair like he’d been worried about for weeks. Maybe he could fix things.

Maybe you could actually want him in both of your lives again.

“I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't ask,” you began in a rush when he hadn’t answered. “If it's too much to ask, I completely understand. I just don’t really want to be alone and–”

“I'll stay,” he assured you, his hand reassuringly squeezing your shoulder. “I told you, I'll always be here when you need me. I want to stay and make sure you're both safe.”

He heard you release the quietest sigh of relief, your body once again relaxing into his side. In the silence that followed, he also swore he heard a smile draw itself across your lips with how close he was listening to you, the muscles ever so minutely shifting along your face.

“You know how I mentioned that blood test?” you asked, breaking the silence a minute later. “The one where I could find out baby's sex and whether we're having a boy or a girl?”

Of course he knew exactly which blood test you were talking about. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it all week. He figured with what you’d told him about how long it took to hear back from your OB that you already had the results by now. It had been a struggle for him not to text or call you all week to ask you what you’d found out instead of focusing on his work that week. He’d been so eager for the news.

“Yes,” he answered. “I remember you telling me about it.”

“Well, I got the results yesterday morning,” you said slowly. “Did you…want to know what they were?”

It took everything inside of Matt to not blurt the ‘yes’ he gave you too fast. Though he’d grabbed your shoulder tighter in his grip, struggling to contain his excitement in anticipation of the news.

“We’re having a girl,” you told him.

Matt’s eyes snapped shut, a large smile spreading wide across his face. A girl. You were both having a little girl. A little version of you running around. Maybe she’d grow to have the same laugh as you, the same laugh he missed hearing in his apartment ever since you’d left.

“I can’t wait to meet her, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I’m sure she’ll be just as perfect as you.”

You curled up further against Matt's side, something like an embarrassed scoff leaving you. But as you sat there cozied up to his side, another thought crossed Matt's mind. One he'd thought about often lately.

Nervously he chewed his lip as he focused on the sound of his daughter’s thankfully continuously steady heartbeat. Turning his head, he glanced down in your direction. He could feel the way you’d once again shifted against his shoulder, looking up to meet his eyes no doubt. There was something he’d been dying to do for weeks now, but he wasn’t sure if now was an appropriate time to ask, or if it would somehow make you uncomfortable. But he figured he’d try anyway.

“You can certainly say no,” Matt began cautiously, “and I would respect your answer completely. But…would it be alright if I could see if I could feel her moving yet? Is that too much to ask?”

You didn't answer him outright; instead he felt you reach your hands over towards him and pick up his right one. With ease you undid the straps of his glove, gently sliding it off of his hand before tossing it over onto your coffee table. Afterwards you slipped his hand up beneath your shirt, just over the slight bump his hands weren't used to feeling on you. His eyes closed again as he tried to concentrate his senses on your body in a way he'd never done before. A smile returned to his face as he felt you rest both of your hands over the top of his while he focused. He missed the simple feel of your touch.

It took Matt a few moments of concentrating before he noticed something ever so faintly shifting beneath your skin, something he’d never have been able to pick up on if it wasn’t for his senses. A soft, surprised chuckle fell out of him when he felt the faint shift again of what must’ve been a limb moving. There was no way for him to know whether it was an arm or a leg, but it was his daughter alive and well inside of you. The knowledge of that had tears beginning to well up in his eyes.

“What?” he heard you ask.

“She's moving,” he whispered in awe. “I can feel her. It's faint, probably because she's still so small, but I can–can feel her.”

Your hands tightened over the top of his, the sound of your heart fluttering catching Matt's attention as he continued to focus on the baby growing inside of you. He wasn’t sure if your reaction was from the tear that had suddenly slipped down his cheek or something else, but it didn’t matter. Because this moment was easily one of the happiest he’d ever experienced.

With a huff you readjusted your head along your pillow, eyes opening once again in the darkness of your bedroom. You'd been having trouble falling and staying asleep tonight, too stressed about the bit of blood you'd found that had upset you earlier. Thankfully there hadn't been anymore tonight, but despite Matt's repeated reassurance, you'd felt embarrassed about getting distressed so quickly.

You'd just been so terrified waking up, still partially drowsy, to find that bit of bright red on the toilet paper when you'd gone to the bathroom. The fear that you'd somehow lost the pregnancy at the sight of it had immediately panicked you, because in these past few months you'd grown so completely attached to your little Devil. The thought of losing her–especially now knowing they in fact were a her–was too much.

Knowing Matt was out there sleeping on your couch in the living room hadn't been helping you to fall asleep, either. Not because you didn't feel safe with him here, but because it just felt wrong that he was asleep on the couch. He'd never slept anywhere else but in bed with you in the past, and honestly you couldn't imagine your couch was all that comfortable. Especially to him of all people.

And truthfully, if you were being honest with yourself, it was because you wanted him in bed next to you. Not down the hall, but right here where you could feel that he was actually with you. Where you could feel his comforting presence. Because you really did miss him.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you tried to listen to the sounds in your apartment. For a moment you laid in bed, trying to hold your breath to see if you could tell whether Matt was asleep or not out in your living room. But as you sharply expelled the breath seconds later, the only noise you'd been able to pick up on was that of the city outside.

Another few minutes passed where you laid there contemplating whether you should just try to close your eyes and fall back asleep, or actually get out of bed and ask Matt to come join you. But you weren't sure you should even ask anymore from him tonight, considering he'd clearly been interrupted from Daredevil-ing because of you. And then he had offered to sleep on your couch afterwards when you'd asked him to stay. Asking him to then come join you in bed–while you both were still broken up–seemed like such a gray area.

But at the same time, you were carrying his child. And you'd been afraid that something serious had almost happened tonight, and clearly he'd been just as concerned. It was obvious with the panic written on his face even behind the mask when he'd initially shown up. And he'd stayed . He could have left when he realized things seemed to be okay, but he didn't. And while it was only one situation that the pair of you'd encountered, it had meant a lot to you that he hadn't just left you.

The pair of you were planning to get coffee together and talk this weekend too, so was it really all that bad to go out there and ask him to stay with you in your bed?

For a while you just continued to lay there, your mind racing back and forth trying to land on an answer. Ultimately it was the memory of Matt shedding a couple of tears from earlier tonight when he'd felt your little Devil move–something you hadn't yet even managed to experience because you were not far enough along–that had you tossing the sheets off of yourself and climbing out of bed.

Barefoot, you shuffled out of your bedroom before padding down the short hallway. When you reached the living room, you came to a stop just at the edge of the hallway, your eyes drawn to Matt. He was laying on your couch, his body curled in what looked like an uncomfortable position on the small piece of furniture. He had squashed a couch pillow up underneath his head, his eyes closed as he lay there. The plush blanket you always had on the back of your couch was draped over his lower half, but it was clearly too small to cover him fully as he lay there, his bare upper torso partially exposed.

He looked like he was asleep, probably worn out from a long day at work and a night out as Daredevil before you'd gone and interrupted it. You'd almost turned around and gone back to your room, not wanting to disturb him, but then his eyelids flew open. Almost immediately his head rose from the pillow, his gaze landing on you across the room as a look of worry crossed his face, his brows drawing together.

“Sweetheart?” he asked. “Is something wrong? Are you alright?”

Awkwardly you leant up against the wall beside you, your hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. You shook your head, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

“No,” you whispered. “Nothing is wrong. I just can't really sleep. My mind is too loud.”

The worried crease between Matt's brows slowly disappeared as he pushed himself upright on the couch. The blanket that had been draped across him slid down, revealing more of his bare chest in the dark room. He'd clearly been trying to sleep in his boxers since the suit would have been too uncomfortable, and for some reason that only made you long for the comfort of his warm skin cuddled against yours in bed.

“Is there something I can do to help?” he asked.

Running a hand nervously through your hair, you tried to ignore your increasing nerves. You figured it was best to get to the point and just ask for what you wanted, leaving the decision up to Matt after that.

“Would it be too much if I asked you to stay with me?” you whispered. “Not on the couch, but actually with me? Just for tonight?”

“If that's what you want,” Matt replied. “I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I assumed you'd prefer me to stay out here, especially because I don't exactly have anything to sleep in.”

You shrugged a shoulder, glancing down at your bare feet. “That doesn't exactly bother me,” you told him, aware he could hear the truth in your answer. “I just don't want to be alone after earlier. And I'd feel a little better if you were with me.”

Matt removed the blanket from his lower half, his own bare feet landing on the floor. Rising wordlessly from the couch, you watched as he maneuvered around the coffee table like he'd done so many times in the past before he made his way to you in nothing but his boxers.

Hesitantly you reached a hand out, entwining your fingers with his when he neared. Turning in the hall, you guided him down the length of it and back to your bedroom. Matt easily followed your lead, his soft footsteps echoing yours as you led him into your room and towards the bed.

You released his hand when the pair of you reached the foot of the bed, making your way over to the side that was always yours. Matt continued on his way to the side that had always been his, his fingertips lightly dragging over the comforter as he moved.

Climbing back into your bed, you felt the mattress dip under the weight of Matt settling onto the other side. You smiled a little to yourself as you tried to get comfortable on your side, wrapping your legs around the pregnancy pillow Matt had gotten you the other week.

“Would you prefer me to stay on this side, or…?”

Matt's question hung in the bedroom, his meaning clear despite him not finishing it. Tongue darting out to wet your lips, your head turned just over your shoulder towards him as you answered.

“You don't have to tonight.”

Without waiting for further invitation, you felt Matt shift along the bed closer to you. His warm hand carefully landed on your hip, halting there for a moment as if testing your boundaries. Then very gradually his palm slid downwards until it was gently cradling your bump over your shirt. His warm body slowly sidled up to the back of yours and your eyelids lowered, your body relaxing at the safety and familiarity of him.

“Thank you for being here,” you whispered into the dark.

Matt's fingers traced a light pattern over your stomach, the gentle touch causing a warmth to linger in their wake.

“I'll always be here when you need me,” he whispered back. “From now on, I promise you that.”

The smile on your lips grew a little wider as your own hand sought out his. Your fingers entwined with his over the growing swell of your bump, like a protective barrier that the pair of you were making between the world outside and the little life growing within you. Then gradually you finally fell asleep.

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably @two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee @kmc1989 @thychuvaluswife @mywellspringoflife @thornbushrose @yarrystyleeza @shiorimakibawrites @marvelcinematiquniverse @vallovesthedilfs @scoliobean @this-is-music @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @swissy23 @babygorewhore @that-girl-named-alex @warsaur @lareinaisabelle @pazii @senjoritanana @mischiefmanaged71511-blog @xxdrixx @jess-rye @hannahbohen @theclassicvinyldragon @karolamurdock @theoraekenslover @mr-underhills-things @jennifer0305 @capswife @amazexng @blackhawkfanatic @ladywholikesreading @powellssaturn @sunflower-tia @indestructeible

[I have no idea why some of these tags aren't working 😭 If I misspelled something please let me know!]

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #daredevil

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