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crookedteethed · 2 months

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MORESAL of praise | e.m.

Pairing: Up-and-coming Musician!Eddie Munson x Girlfriend Musician reader

Warning: 18+ Cursing, Smut (p in v), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), Reader is intimidated by Eddie's size, Praise kink, Pet names, cockwarming, Eddie being a tool, barely proofread, reader and Eddie are both in their mid-twenties, From y/n perspective

Word count: 2.7k

Divider cred → @saradika-graphics

There's a squeak to my door that needs fixing, and a water leak somewhere that needs tending.

I asked my tenant to fix it, but he tells me: "This is what you get when you pay $300 a month."

The Luminary, home of musicians trying to live for cheap.

I sit my guitar case on the creaking floors, and kick off my ten-hut boots.

My apartment had been cold. A dull gray atmosphere manifested itself not only due to the cold weather outside but also the poor insulation through my apartment walls.

The door to my room was slightly cracked and I noticed between the lines of static silence were the faint sounds of acoustic strings.

I opened the door. In my room, there was one dim lamp light lit. It shined a yellow hue on my boyfriend, who sat on the edge of my bed. Eddie had been playing his black acoustic guitar--the one he wrote "This machine slays dragons" in white paint on, his notebook he often wrote in laid open next to him, a black ink pen between the margins of the notebook.

He doesn't look up at me when I tell him "Hi."

His concentration was on the nylon strings of his acoustic guitar as he mutters an "Oh, hey." back.

My boyfriend looked beautiful at the moment, inattentive, yet beautiful. The warm yellow tone reflected his pallor skin, strands of his thick curly hair tucked behind his ear, and a brown celluloid guitar pick between his teeth. Somewhat of a Vermeer painting.

I walk over to my dresser.

"Sorry, I'd broken in." Eddie says. "I needed to be somewhere quiet, my roommates wouldn't give me that." The roommates that had also doubled as Eddies bandmates.

"It's okay." I say, while shimming out of my black satin skirt. "I was going to ask if you wanted to come over tonight anyway."

My skirt falls to the floor, it pools around my ankles. Next to come off is my stockings, then my shirt, and lastly my bra.

I catch Eddies eyes lingering on my bareback as I fish for something I can sleep in. My hands pick a shirt that said "Margaritaville" and was four sizes too big.

When I turn back around to Eddie, he's back to strumming a random chord then he writes it down in his notebook.

In the small bathroom that connected to my bedroom, I don't look myself in the mirror when I take off my panties and throw them into the hamper.

Now getting into bed, I crawled over to where Eddie sat, sitting behind him on the weight of my knees.

Eddie had seemed to form some sort of a strumming pattern with his song, but he didn't seem to like the sound of it by the harsh glare he gave his guitar.

"It sounds pretty." I assure him.

He lets out a low mumble that sounds like a "Thank you."

"Thinking about playing it to the guys, play it at our audition at Beacon records, maybe?"

I hum as I slowly walked on my knees, my calloused hands gripping his bare shoulders. "Mmm-hmm," I say as he kept speaking, but I was too busy stroking his hair to fathom anything he was saying.

I lean in closer to his body, enveloping myself in his warmth.

My boyfriend: the thermal.

I bring my lips to his neck, and in one long hard suck, I kiss the flesh. His reaction is what catches me off guard.

"Babe." he turns to me, he stares at me with the same glare he gave his guitar. "I'm almost done." He continued. "Then we can do whatever you want."

The music continues.

My bottom lip start to poke out, and I probably would've started to cry if he was a bit more harsher.

I start to scoot to the head of the bed. "Take as long as you want. I'm going to bed." I tell him.

I get underneath my cold blankets, lay to my side and force myself to sleep (despite not being sleepy).

Suddenly, his strumming stops.

With one eye opened, I peak at him (out of curiosity). I squeeze both my eyes shut when I feel Eddie get up from the bed, his bones cracking in the mitts.

He leans his guitar on the wall, and places his closed notebook on the bedside table.

We accidentally make eye contact when he turns off the lamp light, I squeeze my eyes in a haste, but l feel the smirk on his lips illuminating in the darkness of my room.

Eddie then slips underneath the covers beside me, his clipped nails and rough hands graze the plush of my slender hips. I feel his smirked lips kiss the dip of my shoulder blade.

"I'm trying to sleep." I mumble.

"No you're not." He says, breathing on the nape of my neck.

I feel Eddie's muscular hands turn me over by the shoulders. When we're face to face I get a glimpse of his shadow covered face, alabaster skin darker then normal.

Eddie traces a finger over the line of my jaw and pulled my body tight to his chest. His body heat makes me feel less cold. Eddie brings a warmness to me that spreads from my temples, to my limps and it makes me melt like ice cream on a midsummer day's night.

"You're freezing." he states.

My lips part as his thump soothes the petal skin of my jawline.

"Lemme make you warm. Lemme make up for before, yeah?" He said in that voice I couldn't resist. It's a low, gravelly tone. A tone filled with assurance and leverage.

And though I wanted to roll over and play sleep, I simply couldn't. With sluggish eyes and a parted mouth (due to his thumb playing with my bottom lip) I found myself nodding to Eddie's words.

As Eddie crawls on top of me, I combed my fingers through his thick dark curls. Eddie's the one to close the gap between our mouths.

The kiss begins with the utmost tenderness. It was long enough that I could inhale his breath, feel the warmness of his skin, and tasted the last thing that lingered on his lips (the celluloid guitar pick).

But, with the hunger of a starving man, Eddie deepens the kiss. I responded to him with a low mewl between the gnawing and the suckling.

When I feel Eddie's hand snake to where our cores met, I stopped him.

He hovers over me with concerning eyes, and red-bitten lips.

"Did I do something wron--"

"I want to ride you." I breathlessly say, earning another smirk from him and glint in his eyes.

In a swift motion, Eddie and I switched places, with him now being on the bottom while I was on top. Eddie rests his back on the metallic bars of my headboard. In this position, the moonlight peaking from my curtains had shined on his face, leaving me in the shadows.

I start to adjust myself by bunching the hem of my shirt around my waist; Eddie adjusts himself by lifting his weight to pull down his boxers, and that's when I feel it.

I feel the warmth that radiates from his cock to my wet slit. His tip nearly meshing with my clit.

Eddie's cock had had a slight curved mushroom shape to it with a hefty girth to it as well, with three large straining veins running along the side of it.

His reddening tip spewed drops of clear pre-cum that leaked down from his dick and to my thighs.

I gawked at his cock, with slightly parted lips.

Oh, how I yearned for Eddie to be inside of me all day. During my yearning, Eddie was on top. It occurred to me then that I'd never ridden Eddie before. Eddie is always the one to do the penetrating.

My eyes met with his, a devious look in his deep, earthy brown eyes.

"Sorry." I mutter.

Eddie looks at me with a condescending grin as I lift myself up by my knees. I give a few tugs to his cock, before aligning his length to my entrance.

I feel the supple wetness of my cunt drip down my thighs and onto the puddle of Eddie's pre-cum that resides there, as I inch him closer to me.

It was either the intimidation or excitement in my lower belly that lead me to stop.

"Can you help me?" I mumble.

"What?" Eddie says, cuffing his hand behind his ear. Whatta prick.

"You heard me." I said.

"I believe I didn't sweetheart, you were mumbling."

He knew for a fact he heard me; we were so close to one another that I could listen to the fluids swishing around in his belly. But for the sake of it,

"Can you help me?" I repeat, this time loud and clear.

"Ohh, that's what I thought you said." He decides to play dumb, desperation pulls on my face. "Thought you wanted to ride me, huh?"

"I do, but I'm scared it won't fit." I say.

"It fit all those other times." He rebuttals.

"But all those other times weren't like this." I stare deep into his eyes and poke out my bottom lip. "Please, just help me."

"Oh, don't cry sweets, you know I was gonna help ya, y'know." He tells me. "But first, take off your top fr'me."

I comply, watching him watch me take off my "Margaritaville" shirt and discarding it onto the floor.

Now completely bare, I feel my nipples start to pebble at the cool breeze of my apartment.

Eddie's mouth latches onto my left breast like a moth to a flame. I feel his hand give my right breast a firm squeeze. As his lips and tongue revolved around my sensitive buds, the tips of his curls tickled my chest.

"Eds." I gasp, bringing his head closer to my chest as if I were trying to feed him.

In the next moment, he spilled a few drops of saliva on my other nipple and flicked the newly wet nub, and started to suck on the puffy skin.

"Eds, baby, you're doing so good." I moan. Eddie hums in acknowledgment, concentrating on my left nipple like it was his guitar and notebook.

"But please, Eddie, I need you inside of me; I'm dripping here." I whine.

Eddie slowly detaches himself from my right nipple, a string of saliva connecting his lips from my nub. He looks down at the slickness that coats his and my thighs.

"Shit." he curses. He looks at me with those chocolate brown eyes of his, and a look of flattery on his face. "And I didn't even have to touch that little clit of yours to have you dripping like this."

"Eddie, please!"

"Alright, alright." He says. "By the way, y'know you're beautiful when you're all whiney and struggling on me."

Before I can rebuttal, I see Eddie gripping the thick base of his cock; as he brings his tip to my entrance, I bite on my bottom lip out of pure anticipation.

A faint sigh of relief died on our lips as Eddie melded inside me. I let out a shaky gasp at the sudden stretch. For a brief second, I sit on his cock, taking in his size, taking in his heat.

Involuntary, I clench around his girthy length as a response his cock throbs inside of me. I think if we knew morse code, our private parts could have a flirty conversation without each of us knowing; I giggle at this thought.

Eddie wraps his arms tightly around my waist "You got this mama." He pecks the skin of my collarbone.

With doe eyes I slowly nod my head, before slowly starting to grinding my hips onto his.

"That's it, baby, keep going." Eddie praises, looking up at me with such admiration. I start to quicken my pace, feeling my slick and clit coat his torso.

As Eddie's lips ravishes the dip of my neck, he breaths against my skin: "You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now."

"Then do it." I say. "Fuck me."

And with the quick placement of his large hands groping the plush fat of my waist, Eddie starts to slam my body up and down on his cock in a bouncing motion.

I mewl at his relentless thrust. Groaning every time I feel his ridged cock dragging inside of my gummy walls, I whimper when I feel him graze my sweet-spot, only for him to draw himself back and slam right back into me.

The only sounds to fill the air was skin on skin, hard smacks coming from each time our bodies thrashed.

"Fuckin' shit." Eddie groans. "Look at my girl, taking me so well." Butterflies swarm inside of my belly.

I look down to where Eddie and I connected once again, I see the lips of my cunt touch the base of his cock and then back up to his tip. Eddie fingertips graze the meat of my ass, he gives my cheeks a tight squeeze.

My cup runneth over.

My eyes begin to flutter close. "M'close." I murmured against Eddie's lips. I was tottering on the edge of my climax.

Eddie switches from mercilessly slamming me unto his cock to grinding, rubbing me against him. With the palms of his hands splayed across my ass cheeks, he rubs me closer to him in fast, greedy motions.

"Eds, M'close!" I whine.

"Finish f'me, sweets." He says, voice hoarse like he was on the edge of his climax too.

It was the hoarseness in Eddie's voice, the bead of sweat sloping down the side of his face, and then the delicious feeling of his cock finally bumping into my sweet spot.

A plethora of moans escapes my lips. My back arches at the shockwaves of pleasure that ebbs and flows throughout my body. There's a ripple of orgasmic delight all over. My cunt starts clenching and unclenching around Eddie's cock.

Accompanied with the sounds of our skin slapping is the wet slick coming from my spent cunt.

Lazily, I collapsed into Eddie's chest and bury my face in the croak of his neck, giving him quick little pecks on the hot flesh--my body twitching every now and then.

Eddie still fucks into me.

"Almost there, sweets." he elongates. "You're so good to me." He kisses my cheek. "Always taking me so well in that little cunt of yours, always letting me use you, even when you're on top."

You would think Eddie was talking me through my orgasm, but he was talking him through his, I think his own praised turned him on twice as much.

I start to feel Eddie's cock spasm inside of me. I'm too spent to do anything but pull him tighter to me.

He pushes himself all the way in and stills himself. I feel his cock swell up, and in those two seconds of stillness I can feel just how large Eddie really is.

With each spurt of cum, Eddie's cock pulsates. I feel the warmth and pressure of his cum coating my cervix. With each spurt, Eddie lets out low (gravelly) groans.

Eddie kisses my forehead.

I lay on his chest, listening to the fast paced pumping of his heartbeat. My eyelids start to fall and I start to feel that post-coital weariness.

I try to move myself off of Eddie, but my sore and stiff hips and limps makes it hard.

"What are you doing?" Eddie asks me as I try to move beside him.

"Eddie, I have to get off of you, we can't stay in this position all night." I say.

"Says who?"

And as I snuggled back into Eddie's lap, his semi-hard cock starting to soften inside my warm cunt, I told Eddie he was right.

Who said we couldn't stay enveloped in each other's warmth for the rest of the night? Two lovers wrapped around one another in a cold bed in the cold Luminary. With no money, dead-end jobs, a guitar in hand, and dreams not only of each other but dreams of making a difference someday.

Eddie didn't need to be famous to make a difference in people's lives when he'd already made a difference in mine, my beautiful boyfriend.

#stranger things #eddie munson smut #rockstar eddie munson #musician eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #Fem reader #stranger things fic #crookedteethed #Eddie munson smut #trends #trending #joseph quinn

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tyttamarzh · 4 months

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Missasinfonia, songs and QSMP…

Hello!! Well, since we all continue to miss Missa, I want to share a little thought.

I don't know if it has already been talked about here, but in the Hispanic fandom of Missa we have his songs very present and some people have not been able to avoid talking about how some of them adapt perfectly to the QSMP.

I want to talk about two in particular whose lyrics I think are perfect for describing Missa's relationship with his family.

The first one is called "Privilegios" (privileges) and I think it describe what Missa is currently going through with Philza. Well, it talks about the anxiety of feeling insufficient for the other and trying to improve but feeling afraid of moving forward (the young Missa from 2014 wrote very deep lyrics). I remember that in a stream he told us about how several of his songs came about and said that he wrote "Privilegios" thinking about us, the people who follow him, because he didn't feel enough for us and is why he always try to do things better. Either way, I think he's perfect for describe his situation with Phil.

The song:

youtube

Lyrics

Sometimes I forget my sorrows and things I should do Because ideas slip away, they do not allow us to see Well creating something new means forgetting I would like to be like before and go back to the past

I know how to write the word mature very well But my thoughts don't let me act I don't want to forget, I don't ask for your mercy Because honestly I can fix it.

Chorus I don't know what to do if you're not okay (you're okay!) I don't know whether to lie to me or throw myself at your feet I wonder if I can deserve you Because I didn't earn the privilege.

How can I destroy damn anxiety? If outside my mind is my reality It is not so easy to wish others ill. just so I can free myself

The second song I want to talk about is called "Tarde para el plan B" (Late for Plan B) and I think it could be a message from Missa to Chayanne, some of the things he mentions remind me of what Missa told him in that day of fishing before travel to Japan. He talks about how it's okay to fail and that he shouldn't be overwhelmed by his mistakes, and encourages him to keep going and get better. There is also a phrase that I like to think is very much theirs, since it infers that even if they are not together, he will always see him. Now every time I hear that song I think of them and I can't help it u.u (It's a song created 10 years ago, but I think it's fits perfectly).

The song:

youtube

Lyrics

Have you ever wondered… what could happen if after the years, you could come back to the past? Would you have the chance to see what is wrong the bad memories you would be able to erase.

Enjoy moments you didn't see coming feel from the beginning what you should feel but remorse can cut you and repenting would be the final act

Look for alternatives, see how to improve May you know how to handle your situations You don't always get a second chance. you must take advantage of what time gives you

If they give you their hand, don't take our foot don't ask for the moon when it's barely dawning You don't run when you want to calm down do something your soul can bear

[PRE CHORUS] And it's not that it's bad, it could be worse. What doesn't kill you makes you better.

And listen to me, here I will be, watching your actions wherever you are.

sometimes the reasons chase me but they don't want to catch me Sometimes actions are what will count, but you won't count. I prove that what I say is true It's your problem if you don't want to change but honestly sometimes everyone can fail

In the hope that everything is fine There are ideas within your being that grow and create the bad decision than wanting to correct what has already happened

Do what you need to make you feel better. Defeat your demons, destroy that pain Errors exist to know what someone else could fall into

and it's not that it's bad, it could be worse What doesn't kill you makes you better

listen to me, I will be here watching your actions wherever you are

My favorite phrase from this song is: "don't ask for the moon when it's barely dawning" (I just like how deep it sounds xD)

And that's all for now, I've never created a post here, I hope it's okay. Thanks for reading my crazy thoughts. Greetings!!

#deathduo #pissa #missasinfonia #missa #chayanne the egg #qsmp #philza #Youtube

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alexander-arcturus-black-lupin · 8 months

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Sneaking around

Summary : Draco is being tailed by Harry, but he doesn't know that. He goes to meet his secret Ravenclaw girlfriend y/n.

Harry slid out of Slughorn's party and followed Malfoy. He knew his cloak would be of use as he threw it over him. Draco Malfoy during this whole semester looked sickly and pale but today he looked…Draco.

He followed him through the secret passageway on the third floor that was rarely used; he wondered when Draco had found it. He was so deep in thought he hadn't almost noticed that Draco had stopped.

Suddenly black hair flicked from a corner. Draco lounged and pulled out a laughing Ravenclaw girl.

"Salazar Y/n,"

"Hi~" Draco's scowl dropped and a shy smile made its way there instead.

"Hello," Draco rolled out.

"Your hair is a mess Malfoy, are you actually using your shampoo?"

"Of course I am, i was bloody thrown from Slughorn's stupid party"

"Sounds a bit hmmm jealous, was a certain Harry Potter there?" Harry froze once he heard his name.

"Don't start, you saying his name once is enough,"

"Shall I start calling him the chosen one or the other he who must not be named." Harry was mesmerized by her, it was like she radiated happiness.

Draco shook his head so hard that his hair became more messed up.

"Jeez, Draco relax,"

"Potter's been trailing me lately," Y/n raised her eyebrows.

"If I didn't know any better I'd ship you two," Harry wanted to retch in his hiding place. "Lorminuim"

"That's new," Draco remarked, flopping on a nearby couch. "Made it?"

"Nah 7th years, it's a silencing charm which also acts as an alarm if anyone steps within 10 feet of our invisible bubble we'll know" Harry froze again, if he moved. He'll be in deep trouble.

However everything except for one fact flew over Draco's head as he sat up. "7th Year boys?"

Y/N blinked at him before she threw back her head and laughed. "What if it was a boy?" Y/n teases coming closer. "Mmm, what if it was?"

Draco rolled his eyes. Y/n sat on his lap and cupped his face in her hands. Smooshing his face makes him look like a fish. Harry was still in severe shock.

“I’m yours, mon amor est pour toi et toi sulement,” Draco burst out laughing. “Stop laughing I tried.”

Draco pressed soft kisses into her palm. “I know, bloody accent needs help but, I love you too” he then said something in perfect french. Harry had enough and he, under his cloak, moved backwards inch by inch turning with each step, he did so till he was out.

“Harry?” He spun to find Hermione and Ron behind him. "Harry? You look like you've seen a ghost,"

"Malfoy,"

"Don't tell me you followed him, can you belive this Ron, wait, you knew didn't you," Hermione pointed at Ron's red ears.

"I- Harry what about Malfoy what did you catch him doing,"

"He and y/n are a thing,"

"What? They barely are in the same space at the same time," Hermione said crossing her arms. "I mean yeah, y/n is close to the slytherin boys."

"What-"

******************************************************************************************************************************************************

Somehow news had spread quickly. Mostly thanks to Ron and his, "MALFOY AND Y/N ARE YOU BLOODY SERIOUS MATE" Soon it even reached the love birds themselves.

"Pansy told me that she heard it from Luna who heard it from Ginny who heard it from Ron."Y/n was sitting at the head of Draco's four-poster bed with his head in her lap

"Do you think he caught us snogging somewhere,"

"I would hope not else you won't be getting any." Draco pouted.

You’re cute when you pout

“Thank you,” Draco flushed slightly. She herself blushed, she said that outloud.

"Nevermind, it was probably Potter maybe he tailed me on one of our dates,"

"Maybe," Draco started to play with her hair.

"We can't keep hiding in your dorm, unlike you, a dinner person, I am a breakfast person."

Draco sighed at that. They only had two classes today both after lunch. "Please let's just stay here, just for now,"

"Fine, you owe me,"

Draco just smiled and cuddled into y/n, "I really love you y/n, like a lot that i actually let on" Y/n froze.

"Y/n? Y/n you don't have to say it back, I just-"

"I love you too," Draco sat up and looked at her.

“You don’t need to tell me you love me, I don-” she shut him up with a kiss. Suddenly the door barged open,

“HA PANSY YOU WERE RIGHT COME CHECK THIS OUT,” Blaise in all his glory stood heaving with laughter. Soon they were joined by Pansy Theodore Matheo and Lorenzo. Draco with a wave of his wand had shoved them out and locked them out.

“Why are we friends with them,”

“Say the word and they’re gone,” she laughed an kissed Draco back.

“I’ll think about it, since we’ve been caught and I’m starving, let’s go,” Draco sighed and help her off the bed. “But you’ll still owe me a bunch of snacks later,”

Draco looked at her a small smile on his lips. “Deal,” she smiled and his heart stuttered. He was truly enamored with her.

#draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy x y/n #draco fic #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x you

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artists-ally · 6 months

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I love your Harvey fics😍 and I have a this fluff thatmayleadto spice/smut scenario in which Harvey comes back home from home finding the reader reading a particularly spicy scene of a romance novel and in the beginning Harvey makes a little fun of her but then he sees the appeal and...you know😂

{That Kind of Love} Harvey x Reader

Can I just say @kjbg-fantasymoon is so sweet??? Like ugh you are so nice ilysm. Told you I’d answer all your requests 😘😘 Anyway here is my two cents on the matter, enjoy!!! Title from this song (p.s. both books I mention in here, Flawless and Dirty Letters, are both real books and I high recommend both of them!)

Word Count: 1,481

Warnings: smut, minor d/s vibes, spanking

Summary: Harvey catches you reading a particular smutty scene from your current book.

~~~~~~

“Don’t you think it’s a bad idea?”

“Is what a bad idea?”

“You know,” I said, motioning between us. “This. Us, alone together? We can’t keep our hands off each other.”

Griffin laughed, grabbing me by my waist and pulling me tight against his chest. “It absolutely is an awful idea. But you look so fucking good in that skirt. I mean Jesus Luca, it barely covers your ass. And you know how much I hate it when anyone looks at anything that’s mine.”

I clenched my thighs together when he pushed the skirt up my ass, not being shy with the noise that burned my core.

“Griffin,” I rested my forehead against his collar bone, gripping his shirt as he pushed my underwear down my thighs.

“Yes?”

“Please,” I begged. I needed to feel him. God, twelve years of sexual frustration was not helping me in any way. Every fantasy I had as a teenager was coming to life.

“Is my girl needy?” I whined. “Aww, do you need me to take care of you? To force you on your hands and knees and fuck you like you’ve always wanted me to? How about I tie you up and make you cum on my fingers, then my mouth, then my co-”

“YN!”

I flailed so hard the book clattered to the ground, and I could feel my pulse in my fingers. “Jesus fucking Christ Harvey don’t you know how to knock?”

“I did knock,” he countered, reaching down to pick up my forgotten story. “Twice. And I opened the door and called your name. And I’ve been standing in front of you for two minutes, watching you read. Watching you bite your lip in that way you only do when you’re completely lost. So, wanna tell me what you were reading?”

I blinked, mouth gaping open like a fish out of water. He turned the book over in his hand, reading the cover. Harvey raised an eyebrow at me and offered the book back. With a blush to my cheeks, I plucked it from his hand and folded it into my lap.

“What’s the book about?” He asked again.

“Nothing you’d like, Mr. Harvard,” I stuck out my tongue, placing the book on the table beside me before walking into the living room. “How was your day?”

“Nothing, huh?” Wow, Harvey could not take a hint. “Come on, just tell me. Was it about vikings? Pirates? Viking pirates? What about some small town romance, where the city girl moves back home and the farm boy reigns her back to her roots? Just like his pops did with his mamma?”

“Please, I am far above that cliche bullshit.” I am most certainly not above it. At all. “And why do you care?”

“Because, you were so entangled with it you didn’t even hear me come in. whatever is in that book, maybe I want to find out what it is so you’ll pay attention to me that intensely,” Harvey cornered me in the kitchen, caging me in against the counter after I got a glass of water.

“I pay attention to you,” I argued, looking from his eyes to his lips when he licked him, very clearly looking at mine.

“Uh huh, sure you do. When it involves my wallet and my lips in between your legs,” Harvey teased, bringing me in against his chest. In an oddly similar way that the main character of my book did. “Just tell me, I’ll stop asking if you tell me.” “No you won’t.”

“No, I won’t,” Harvey smiled, and I rolled my eyes. “It can’t be that bad, Yn. I’ve caught you reading smut more than once, so what was it this time?”

“How do you know I read smut?” My eyes went wide, and my heart sped up a little in my chest.

“I didn’t at first,” Harvey said. “But then I told Donna about one of the books you were reading, Flawless by Elsie Silver, and she told me how ‘spicy’ it was. And you are pretty bad at being subtle, my love. You don’t do a great job at hiding your emotions on your face.”

Welp. Fuck.

My eyes narrowed at the New York lawyer and he just gave me a cheesy smile. “Fine, I’ll tell you. But you’re gonna have to read it. Because you’ll understand why when you do.”

As I walked back into the den, Harvey in tow, I plopped the book in his hand. Dirty Letters follows Luca and Griffin, childhood penpals turned strangers, through their reconnection. He’s keeping a huge secret and she’s a recovering victim of PTSD.

“Well, with a title like that I expect it to be dirty,” Harvey rolled his eyes, reading the back of the cover. “Show me the good stuff.”

I flipped to the page I was reading, scanning to make sure I was in the right spot. I didn’t have to bookmark the page because someone decided to scare me half to death. He should know by now to just leave me alone when I’m reading. It’s not my fault that I get vaulted into another world when I do.

“Here, start there and let me know when you’re done.”

Was I entirely sure that leaving Harvey to his own devices with my book was a good idea? No I wasn’t. I knew he was going to make fun of me, but oh well. Everyone else in the world liked to watch porn, I just liked to read it. He didn’t have to understand it, but if it would get his ass off mine? I’ll take the embarrassment and get it over with.

It wasn’t even ten minutes before he set the book down on the kitchen island, clearing his throat. I turned to face him and saw a slight tinge to his cheeks.

“Alright, let’s get it over with,” I prepared for the roasting. “Tell me how much of a nerd and how much of a loser I am for reading word porn.”

Harvey just shoved his hands in his pockets. He no longer had his tie, or his jacket for that matter. His hair was unusually messy and that blush. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Harvey blush before.

“Well,” Harvey started. “I can see the appeal.”

He can what? There was no possible way I heard him right. “Say that again?”

“I can see why you like to read. That author is really good at being… descriptive.”

I smirked, “So, you thought it was hot?”

“Amongst other things,” he bent at the waist, resting his elbows on the counter. “I get why you get lost in it, especially with something like that. Griffin is very charming, something we both have in common.”

“Oh please, you read some of the best smut an author can write at that’s what you take away from it?”

“Not at all, my love,” Harvey stepped closer. “I also learned that you have a thing for being called ‘my girl’. And I don’t blame you, you like it when I’m possessive. When I tell you that you belong to me.”

“This was not the reaction that I was expecting,” I eyed him.

“Don’t worry, Yn. I promise I’ll make fun of you for it after I finish making you scream my name,” Harvey ducked his head down and wasted no time in showing his need.

His tongue brushed over mine and he pulled me in tight against his body. Damn him and his unrivaled ability to turn me on. All it took was a few well placed kisses to my neck, to my ear to get me to our room and on the bed, hands not able to get enough of each other.

If I knew Harvey would’ve had this type of reaction to reading smut, I should show him some real smut. That was nothing compared to some of the other stuff on my shelf. Maybe I could get him to do some of those things to me.

“Aww, is my girl already messy for me?” Harvey clicked his tongue, stripping the last of his clothes off. “Who knew you’d be so easy.”

“And who knew that you’d be so easy when it came to getting what I want by giving you a book.”

Harvey’s eyes narrowed. “You think you’re gonna get what you want?” In a quick grab, I was on my stomach, ass up, and Harvey’s hand came down a lot harder than I was prepared for. “Wanna try that again, pretty girl?”

I gasped when the next one came, and the next. “N-No.”

“Okay then,” Harvey let out a dark laugh, fisting his hand in my hair and pulling me up. “You gonna stop being a brat and let me do my job?”

I nodded, eyes falling shut when he pinched my nipple between his fingers.

“Good girl.”

#harvey specter #harvey specter suits #harvey specter smut #suits #harvey x reader #suits smut #smut #suits fanfic #suits fanfiction #suits tv

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qveerthe0ry · 2 months

Text

If You're Crazy Too

Summary: It isn’t the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you, helping your friend with benefits confess his love for his longtime friend and roommate. But it’s definitely in the top ten. Word Count: 8,600 Pairing: Santi x m!amab!reader x Frankie Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, mutual masturbation, watching porn together, threesome, handjobs, ass eating, oral sex (m receiving), anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up), dirty talk, dom/sub undertones, polyamory Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar thank you both so much, you're angels for helping me through this <3 A/N: Special thanks to the author of this post for making an excellent resource for writing Spanish in fics, it came SO in handy. Also thanks to @triplefrontier-anniversary for inspiring me to finish getting this brainworm all written down before the deadline!

Santi is an incredible fuck. Also, he’s a fairly sweet guy.

You met him at your favorite club. He’d been dancing with men and women all night long, graceful and respectful, and you itched to get your turn with him.

When you finally got the chance, his body was solid and sweaty and sure against your own.

You could barely hear him over the music when he told you, lips brushing over your ear, that he was hoping you’d seek him out.

He kissed you, after a few songs, and you met it with an eagerness you didn’t even know you had in you. It wasn’t long before he asked you to come back to his place, and he made you fall apart underneath him.

The morning after wouldn’t have been awkward, either, if his roommate hadn’t been cooking breakfast for the both of you.

Santi introduced him as “Frankie, or Catfish, or Fish.” He was gorgeous, too, in a softer way than Santi. His brown eyes were wider and less menacing than Santi’s, and his curls peeked out under a well-worn trucker’s cap.

He said it was nice to meet you, and asked how you liked your eggs, and if you were way too loud the night before with Santi, he didn’t mention it. You did, however, catch him sneaking glances at Santi while the three of you ate, and wondered what they meant.

It didn’t matter much at the time when you thought you’d never see Santi again. But he walked you to your Uber after breakfast, and asked if you maybe wanted to do this again, no pressure, no strings attached. And you did. So you exchanged numbers and he kissed you on the cheek before sending you off.

You’ve met up with him a few times now. Each time Frankie makes himself scarce. You either hear the TV in his room, or you pass him on your way in, telling you he’s got errands to run. What errands he’s running at 10pm, you’re not sure you want to know, but you don’t think much of it.

Until now. You knock on the front door of their apartment and hear voices, too muffled to make anything out clearly.

Santi answers before too long with a smile, and you follow, intent to trail him to his bedroom like you usually do.

This time, though, Frankie’s sat on the couch in the living room, a beer in his hand, and he looks like someone just kicked his puppy.

“Am I, uh, interrupting something? We can rain check.”

Frankie looks to you, and then to Santi, and you feel like you have your answer before either of them speak.

“No, no, you haven’t interrupted anything,” Santi starts, “it’s just our favorite OnlyFans guy released a new video a few days ago and we haven’t had the chance to watch it yet. Fish is a little eager.”

“Fuck you, I’m not. Just thought we were watching it today is all. No big deal.”

It’s a lot of information to process, that these two not only share a favorite OnlyFans creator, but watch his videos together. And— not to assume, but you’re sure they probably do other things together too.

“Oh… I mean, I don’t want to ruin your plans.”

“It’s fine—“

Frankie’s reassurance is cut off by Santi though, something that seems like a common occurrence by the way he settles back into his seat and closes his lips when Santi begins to speak.

“You wanna watch with us? First orgasm of the night, but I promise I’ll make it up to you after.”

And fuck it, you think. It isn’t quite what you imagined when you left your place, but it doesn’t sound like a terrible way to spend your Friday night.

“I’m down,” you shrug, and Santi’s eyes crinkle when he smiles and winks at you.

He turns the lights off while Frankie casts the video to the TV. You settle in the armchair, as Fish looks a little uncomfortable, but he assures you he isn’t when you check in with him.

Santi takes the opposite side of the couch as Frankie, and then he’s ordering him to start the video.

The bar on the bottom reads 45:06. Longer than you expected. The video is well-edited with soft royalty-free music over a logo that fades when the man appears on screen.

You chance a small glance at the couch. You aren’t really sure what the etiquette is here, but neither of them seem to be making any moves yet, hands resting on their own thighs. You mirror them, subtly shifting to do so, and avert your eyes to the television once more.

The man on the screen is a wicked dirty talker. He spends a good five minutes telling the viewer what he wants done to him. He’s also quite submissive by the sounds of it, which shouldn’t come as a surprise to you. Santi loves the way you submit to him, tells you so every time you hook up.

You find yourself wondering what Frankie likes in the bedroom, if he’s also just as dominant as Santi, if he’s more sweet or hardened, if he would be vocal like Santi or more reserved like he seems to be in his daily life.

Before you realize it, the man on the screen is stripping down into a skimpy, lacy set of underthings. His cock is on the smaller side but rock hard and leaking, tenting his little lacy briefs in a deliciously obscene display. Your cock stirs at the sight, and you peek over at the couch again.

Frankie’s palming the bulge in his sweatpants, eyes glued to the screen so diligently that you think it’s calculated. Santi, in contrast, has his hand under the waistband of his gym shorts already.

But you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker from the screen, and not to you, but to Frankie, flitting up and down quickly from his face to his lap.

You try not to sigh too loudly as you cradle your own package, half-hard in your own skimpy briefs you wore just for Santi. You watch as the man on the screen turns his back to the camera and bends over, allows the camera to get a full view of the outline of the plug nestled between his juicy ass cheeks.

The air in the room feels humid, almost too hot as the video goes on. You definitely get why this guy is their favorite OnlyFans creator. He’s gorgeous, first of all, all lithe muscle, soft in the perfect places. And he’s an incredible performer. He talks to the camera like he’s talking to you, desperate and breathy. It doesn’t take long for your prick to fully fill out in your briefs.

The camera angle changes on screen. It cuts to him on all fours on the bed, his hole gaping from removing the plug, his pretty pink cock leaking between his legs. A rough grunt from your left has your eyes wandering to the couch again.

Santi’s cock is out, and the sight alone makes your mouth water. Thick and glistening in his big hand, his balls sat atop the waistband of his shorts. Your own throbs under the pressure of your palm, and you let yourself sneak a look at Frankie, too.

He’s finally got his hand down his pants, and you almost feel bad for wondering what his cock is like, too. If it would mirror the differences between he and Santi’s bodies, longer but thinner. You wonder if he’s uncut like Santi is, and you wonder what he’d taste like.

A loud whimper makes you peel your eyes away from the couch and look back at the TV. The guy is three fingers deep in himself, fucking them in along with the messy amount of lube he’s used. It’s fucking hot, and you throw all caution to the wind to unzip your jeans and pull your cock free from its confines.

“He’s fucking hot right?”

You turn your head to Santi at the sound of his voice. Your heart picks up at the sight of him, one hand stroking his balls while the other works slowly up and down his shaft.

You squeeze your own in response.

“Yeah, not exactly my type but he’s still doing it for me.”

Santi chuckles, nods his head back to the screen. But before you turn back yourself, you see Fish glance at Santi out of the corner of his eye. He starts to shuffle his waistband down his hips, but you turn away before you see anything you think you shouldn’t.

The guy on the screen is limber. On his back now, knees pressed to his chest, he’s whining and whimpering while he fucks himself with a big, realistic dildo.

It’s massive, much bigger than any real cock you’ve taken, but you guess that’s some of the appeal. You try to quietly spit in your hand, then spread it up and down as you lazily stroke yourself off to the video.

It’s loud. The obscene squelching and consequential moans fill the living room, but not enough that you can’t hear the strokes from both Santi and Frankie on the couch next to you. Occasionally you hear a muffled curse, or a stilted gasp, and you can’t be sure which man they’re coming from but you want to hear more.

You glance over again. Your eyes land on Santi first, of course, who’s almost shamelessly staring at Frankie’s crotch, the way he lifts his hips to fuck into his fist every few thrusts.

Frankie’s cock is longer, and thinner, and you’re delighted to find that he isn’t circumcised either, the fat head of his cock disappearing and reappearing from under his foreskin.

He turns his head, and you stop stroking your cock all together, afraid of Fish’s reaction to you sneaking a peek. Only, when you meet his eyes to shoot him an apologetic look, he’s not looking at you.

He’s looking at Santi, staring, eyes roaming up and down his body, lingering where he fists his prick, then back up again. You’re stunned still at how intimate it feels, the heat in Frankie’s gaze as he licks his plush lips.

You turn your eyes back to the video with a pounding heartbeat. Your erection begins to wane as you stare through the TV. You can’t get it out of your mind, the way they look at each other. You’re surprised they haven’t caught each other looking yet. The heat from both of their gazes looked tangible, hungry and yearning. It’s as plain as day to you, on the outside looking in.

“Ah fuck—”

The curse is not from Santi. Your eyes trail over just in time to see Frankie pull his shirt up and spill across his stomach. His eyes are closed, head thrown back against the wall behind the couch, and you see Santi’s fist speed up, a blur of tan skin.

You watch him watch Frankie, unabashed now as Fish’s eyes are shut in bliss, and Santi comes too with a deep hum, closing his own eyes just in time for Frankie to open his and look at the both of you.

He quickly averts his gaze when he sees you staring, reaches for the tissue box on the coffee table in front of him. In a move that looks so familiar, he pulls out two for himself, and then two for Santi, handing them over with practiced ease.

Santi pants out a gruff gracias and uses one to clean up with, then holds out his hand to offer you the other.

“Oh— no thanks, I’m good. Didn’t quite get there.”

Santi hums, uses the extra tissue to finish wiping himself up.

“What’s wrong, hermoso? Have I ruined you for all other men?”

His grin is cocky when he asks, tucking himself back into his shorts.

“Yeah Santi, that’s it.”

You roll your eyes and look over to Fish as if to say this fuckin’ guy, but he’s busy boring a hole into the paused TV screen like his life depends on it.

Your dick is hanging fairly limp out of your underwear, so you stow it away, pull your jeans back up.

“Don’t bother,” Santi tells you, nodding his head toward his bedroom, “let me make it up to you now.”

So with your fly undone, you stand on weary legs and follow Santi to his room. When you make it, you turn back to Frankie, to say thank you or sorry, you can’t be sure, because he’s already closing his own bedroom door behind him.

Santi makes good on his promise, though. He eats your ass for what feels like hours, until you’re shaking and begging for him to fuck you. And then he does, somehow riding the perfect line between rough and tender, holding your back against his front with one big hand on your chest as you both kneel on the bed. His other hand works your cock so perfectly that you come unglued in a grand way, like you always do with him.

He cleans you up after, gentle. He’s a huge cuddler, so it doesn’t phase you anymore when he spoons you close and presses his mouth along the little love bites he’s left.

“You really aren’t into subs, are you? Not even a little bit?”

You know he’s referencing your lack of interest in the video. You could agree with him, or you could tell him the truth. You’re not sure what to do, and so you sit in silence for some time before you decide to bite the bullet.

“It isn’t that. I mean, I am more into doms but— that wasn’t it.”

You feel him go stiff behind you.

“Shit, was that too weird for you? I didn’t mean to force you into—“

“No! No, Santi, it was fine. I just— you’re into Frankie, right?”

Air escapes his lungs in something akin to a sob.

“What!? Why would you say that?”

He’s not denying it, which is a good step.

“C’mon man, you were watching him more than you were watching the TV.”

“Pendejo, no I wasn’t.”

“Pendejo” you mock him, “don’t gaslight me. I don’t care. This isn’t, we’re no strings, right? I’m just saying, I don’t wanna come between this thing.”

“There’s no thing to come between. Even if you were right, which you’re not, Fish isn’t into me like that.”

You laugh.

“O-kay.”

“Don’t ‘okay’ me. How would you know? You’ve known him for a grand total of an hour and a half.”

“He was looking at you, too. You know that, right? You’re just in denial?”

“I would’ve seen if he was looking at me.”

“Because you were looking at him.”

“Fine! Okay, I was looking at him. He wasn’t looking at me so what’s it even matter?”

“He was, Santi. He was looking at your cock and licking his lips like he was starved. I saw it.”

Santi huffs behind you, and it tickles your neck.

“I’m not lying to you. I’m not in love with you or anything but I care about you a little bit.”

His arm around you tightens for a beat.

“Awww, so sweet, querido.”

“Shut up,” you huff, “you’re changing the subject. He was looking at you, like he’s always looking at you. I’ve watched him moon over you every single breakfast I’ve eaten here. You know how bad that makes me feel, eating the breakfast he made me while your cum drips out of me?”

“Fuck, why’d you say it like that? That’s so hot.”

“Because it’s true. If you guys have feelings for each other you need to figure that out before I die of a guilty conscience.”

You can practically feel Santi’s eyes roll behind you.

“Dramático,” he groans.

“You do have feelings for him. It seems like he does too. Get your poop in a group about it, man.”

“Will you still stay over? I’ll need a morning fuck if this is the way my weekend’s gonna go.”

——

I can’t do it. Frankie’s visiting his kid this weekend

The text comes a few hours after you shared your now routine, dysfunctional family breakfast, where Fish was indeed making googly eyes at Santi, and Santi’s cum was indeed leaking out into your underwear.

Likely story

No really. I don’t want to mess with his vibes, his kid is super important to him. It’s cute.

Oh my god just fuck him already

I’m TRYING okay? Can you help? I need moral support.

And look, it isn’t the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you, helping your friend with benefits confess his love for his longtime friend and roommate. But it’s definitely in the top ten.

So the two of you devise a plan. It’s convoluted as all hell, but also fairly simple. The next time their OnlyFans guy posts a video, Santi invites you over to watch again. Conveniently, just before you arrive, he spills a glass of red wine all over the seat of the armchair, and soaks the cushion trying to get the stain out of the beige fabric.

You show up, ‘none the wiser.’ Still, the vibes are absolutely weird in their two bedroom apartment. Frankie’s fidgeting on the couch, and Santi misses your cheek and plants a kiss to your eyelid. You have to get these boys together.

The plan goes off without a hitch from there. Santi flicks off the lights, and Frankie casts the video to the TV, just like they did last time, just like they’ve probably done dozens of times before. But now, the armchair is out of commission, so you all squeeze together on the couch. Santi’s in the middle, of course, his thick thigh pressing against your own as you all point your attention to the flatscreen.

You’re kind of excited. It’s a weird thing for you to be excited about, but you weren’t lying all those days ago. You do care for Santi. And Fish too, really, if only for the delicious breakfasts he makes, and for making Santi happy.

This time, you don’t wait for any of their cues. You pull your cock out as soon as the OnlyFans guy starts stripping his clothes. Santi grabs your hand, and for a second you think you’ve ruined the plan. But then spits into it, and Frankie groans from Santi’s other side as he watches the display. You moan a little too, partly for show, partly for the way Santi never fails to make your dick rock hard in record time.

You stroke yourself, and it goads the boys into pulling their pants down, too. The guy on the screen is doing things a little differently this time, fingering a see-through fleshlight as he lubes it up. This is hotter to you, anyway. It doesn’t take long at all for pre-cum to gather at your slit and slick your strokes even more.

By the time the guy is fucking into it with timid strokes, whimpering through the speakers, Santi still hasn’t made a move. You elbow him in the side, and he flinches, then elbows you right back.

You turn your head toward him, make like you’re kissing his neck, because Frankie’s eyes are about to pop out of his skull with the way he’s got them trained on Santi.

“Go on. You already have an audience,” you whisper.

Santi shudders, and Frankie looks away. Just in time, too. Santi eyes the way Fish is stroking himself, and then you hold your breath as Santi lifts his hand and wraps it around the base of Frankie’s cock.

“Ohmyfuckinggod.”

Frankie’s head thunks against the wall behind him, and his hips jolt up into the touch. You’re watching without any hesitation now, and Fish’s eyes are closed anyway. Santi squeezes and Frankie whimpers and scrambles to find Santi’s cock without looking.

“Fuck, Fish. Yeah?”

Santi’s voice is dripping with arousal, low and gruff, his cock twitching in Frankie’s grasp.

“Please, please.”

Frankie finally opens his eyes, lets his head loll to the side to look at Santi. But his eyes quickly flutter to you, his expression twisting up in confusion.

“Santi, what—“

“Shhh, hermano, s’okay.”

You lean forward, and for a moment you’re having an out-of-body experience, watching yourself cradle into Santi’s side, not knowing if you’re helping or hurting their cause, but wanting to reassure them both that this is a good thing.

Frankie takes the encouragement for what it is, allowing himself to fuck up into Santi’s fist and look at him with hooded eyes, mouth gaping open.

Like a fish, you think, and chuckle against Santi’s neck.

“What’s happening? Why?”

Frankie looks between the two of you for an answer, and you bite down on Santi’s earlobe to goad him to answer.

“He caught you looking, last time. Caught me looking at you, too. Put two and two together for me. This okay?”

Frankie shudders and closes his eyes, but nods his head.

You watch both of them, their hands on each other’s pricks, their hips meeting the thrust of foreign fists.

“Waited so long,” Frankie whispers.

“Lo sé, me too.”

Their faces inch toward each other, and you nuzzle the curls at the nape of Santi’s neck. To encourage him, or maybe to shield your eyes from the intimate moment, or probably both.

You feel the kiss, the way Santi’s neck cranes and flexes, and you hear the ragged moans from their lungs, and you are rock hard.

But your work here is done. You may need to jerk off in Santi’s bathroom before you leave, lest you tumble down the apartment stairs since there’s hardly any blood flow to anywhere other than your dick.

But as you make to get up, Santi’s free hand plants firmly on your thigh. You still behind him, a rush of awkwardness flushes through your system.

His head leans back when he pulls away from the kiss, and you watch the way Frankie physically recovers from it, takes a big lungful of air and slowly opens his eyes, licks the taste of Santi from his lips.

“What do you think, Fish? Should we thank him?”

Your cock throbs where it’s pressed against Santi, and you feel him chuckle, but Frankie’s nodding his head fast and looking straight at you.

“Yeah, yes,” he answers, breathless.

“My bedroom or yours, hermano?”

“I couldn’t give any less of a shit.”

They both laugh, and you find it in you to huff, but it’s anything but authentic when all you can think about is having these two men in bed with you, thanking you.

“Go get comfy, yeah? We’ll be there in a minute,” Santi tells you.

You’ve never moved more swiftly in your life, and you’re sure it looks so graceful, walking to Santi’s room with your hard prick swaying in the wind. But you, like Frankie, couldn’t give any less of a shit.

You undress in the now familiar bedroom, lie back on freshly washed sheets as you hear Santi and Frankie mumble, incoherent all the way out in the living room. Your heart rate picks up when you hear footsteps, but only one pair, and Santi struts in. You can hear rustling from beyond the door, a kitchen cabinet opening and closing.

“He‘a grabbing us some waters. I wanted to check in, make sure this is all okay? I know it wasn’t the plan.”

Now you laugh.

“Is it okay? Do I want two gorgeous men thanking me for squishing their heads together like Barbie dolls? It’s more than okay.”

Santi clicks his tongue at you.

“No need for the sass.”

Your blood runs cold at his tone shift, even as his lips quirk up just the tiniest bit at each corner.

Frankie walks in, then, and almost looks startled by the staring match happening. Still, he wades further into the room, sets a few glasses of water down on the nightstand.

You’re suddenly feeling self-conscious, naked and spread out on the bed in front of these two men, fully clothed and practically leering at you. Frankie’s not so shy now; you can feel his eyes on you as they roam across every inch of exposed skin. It’s a heated, tense moment that only breaks when Santi tugs Frankie to him by the hem of his shirt.

Christ, is it hot to watch, the way Fish’s body goes lax as Santi’s tenses, grabbing the back of his neck. His strong arm flexes as his hand gets lost in Frankie’s curls. They share a kiss that looks like less lips and more teeth. Then Santi’s sliding his hands under Frankie’s shirt, along his flanks, exposing smooth, tan skin.

They part to fling their shirts off, and you can’t help it, you reach down to touch yourself. You’re watching something beautiful. Their dance is stilted with novelty but still looks so easy, familiar in an unfamiliar way.

Their noses bump together awkwardly at times, but their hands map out patterns across each other’s bodies that look practiced, like they’ve done this thousands of times before, if only in their dreams.

And they look incredible together. Santi’s thick and bulky, skin so taught over his frame. And Frankie is leaner, corded muscle covered in softer flesh. It looks so squeezable. It is, you find out, second-hand, by the way Santi grabs him by the hips and pulls him closer, just to push him away to get his pants down.

They don’t part for long, and you’re stuck in this haze, a participant only by the way you’re sliding your hand lazily up and down your shaft while you watch them. Santi hasn’t waxed since you first met him, and now all that chest hair is growing in, a stark contrast to Fish’s hairless one. And you know it feels incredible, to be in Frankie’s position, getting scratched by all that wiry hair. You know his own hairless chest will be red and splotchy by the time the night ends, like yours has been countless nights before.

Finally, they come up for air, naked and heaving breaths across each other’s faces as they share a look. Santi raises his strong brow, tilts his head in your direction, and you’re snapped out of your voyeuristic state.

“Let’s show some gratitude, yeah?”

His voice is all low and hoarse, and you watch it affect Frankie in the same way it affects you, cocks jumping. And fuck, Fish does exactly as he’s told once Santi coaxes him with a playful slap to his ass. He crawls up between your legs, and his full lips are even more so now, bitten and slick and deep red. Glancing up at you with those long, pretty, fluttery lashes, his sweet brown eyes are all heavy-lidded and hesitant.

“This is okay?”

His voice is small, and he’s so goddamn perfect.

“Yes, Frankie. Please.”

You both exhale at the same time, and then he gets to it, immediately. His tongue hangs out of his mouth when he opens it wide, and he wastes no time sinking down on your prick.

“Jesus Christ, Fish.”

You damn near give yourself whiplash to look over to Santi, frozen in place next to the bed, eyes glued to where you and Frankie connect. The latter moans around your cock, encouraged to bob his head faster already, take you deeper.

“Knew you’d be such a good little cocksucker with those pretty lips. Fuck.”

It’s so hot, it’s too hot. You’re going to blow in record time with the warmth of Frankie’s mouth and the filth Santi is reciting.

He must see it in your face, the panic of this all being over way quicker than you want it to be. He kneels on the bed beside you both, gets a hand in Fish’s silky curls and you see the shudder that cascades down his body.

“Not a race, hermano,” Santi says, tugging at his hair to get him to lift off of your leaking prick.

Fish stares, wide-eyes and ragged breathing, as Santi arranges himself to lie beside him, both of their faces now inches from your throbbing cock.

“Control freak,” Frankie mumbles, but the smile on his face makes any heat from his words dissipate.

Santi punishes him with a bruising kiss anyway. Your hips jolt as Frankie’s hair brushes across your dick, so on-edge that even that whisper of a touch sends you reeling.

Santi chuckles around Fish’s bottom lip that he’s got between his teeth.

“He so sensitive, Fish. Gotta take it slow, alright?”

It makes your entire body burn, the way he’s talking about you like you’re not even there. The way he’s been guiding Frankie through everything so far, and the way Frankie follows so obediently.

Santi shuffles a bit, and Fish does too, so in-sync that you almost laugh. Their unplanned choreography has them both straddling one of your legs respectively, arms in between, their hands finding each other just close enough to your heavy sac that you can feel the heat coming off of them.

They both look up at you, and for a moment everything is so eerily perfect that it feels like you’re in some sick, twisted Truman Show remake, and this was all a ploy to get you into bed with them.

But then Santi looks at Frankie, a soft bueno? uttered toward him, and Frankie nods. Santi leans in, for what you assume is to kiss him more, but his nose brushes the base of your shaft. And then Fish leans in too, his own strong nose nuzzling just under your head.

Your hands find purchase on the backs of their necks, a light touch to ground yourself as you watch. It’s so fucking intimate, and you’re the catalyst for their exploration, and it’s driving you up the goddamn wall. Your curse and watch twin grins break out on their faces.

Shitheads, both of them.

They continue on with this dance, breathing in your scent as they nose up and down your cock. Their eyes open and close, but their gazes always seem to land on each other at the same time.

And then Santi leads, licking a long stripe up the side of you. Frankie follows eagerly once he catches on, meeting him for a sloppy dance of tongues all over the head of your dick, your frenulum, lapping up the pre-cum that’s been steadily leaking from your slit.

It jerks wildly under their loose attention, and Frankie chuckles deep and low as he chases your cock and Santi’s mouth at the same time. Your nails start to bite into their napes, the burning in your gut becoming far too intense.

“Guys,” you gasp, “I— fuck. I can’t.”

Santi hums, leaves a playful nip at the base of your prick that nearly sends you over the edge. Fish lets up, intent to lick up every last drop of your taste from Santi’s mouth, and groans when he succeeds.

You’re all left panting for a minute. You can’t decide who to look at. Santi’s head has fallen onto your thigh, and Frankie’s propped up on an elbow, staring down at him, all along the dips and curves of his tan skin. Santi gets a hand around Fish’s cock, thumbing under the head in slow circles, soothing and relaxed.

“Everyone still having a good time?”

Santi’s tone implies he already knows the answer. A weak Jesus, yes huffs out of your vocal chords, just as Frankie nods his head eagerly where it rests in his palm.

Santi cranes his neck to look up at you, and already you know you’re in for it, a wicked glint in his eyes.

“You want Fish to fuck you?”

Your cock throbs near their heads, and Frankie snorts.

“Think that’s a yes, huh?”

You answer Fish with a nod. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone but Santi. The thought shorts out all the wires in your system as you realize you get to learn him this way, what he’s into, what he’ll want to do to you, and how different it is from his counterpart.

“All fours, both of you. He’ll let you eat his ass for hours, Fish,” Santi instructs.

“Jesus.”

If it weren’t for the way Frankie scrambles to get into position, you’d ask if he was alright with it. But once he’s hovering on his hands and knees between your legs, he’s manhandling you to do the same, and you love it.

Your cock sways and leaks between your thighs, and Fish pulls and tugs to get you exactly how he wants you. You feel even more exposed than usual like this, with these two men behind you. He spreads you open for him, and you feel your hole clench and relax as it’s exposed to the humid air of the bedroom.

Then he spits, perfectly aimed, and you feel his saliva trickle all the way down your taint, tickling your balls as it drips onto the sheets.

A puff of hot air is all the warning you get before his tongue is following that same trail in reverse, all the way up to where your crack meets your back, and then back down, and your elbows buckle and so does your resolve.

You moan a mix of curses and Frankie’s name, and it only eggs him on, gets him to zero in on your rim with his tongue, circling then flicking, over and over.

You try to crane your neck enough to see Santi when you hear him swear.

“You really fuckin’ like this. Don’t you, Fish?”

All you can see is his tight curls behind Frankie’s own arched back, and his big hands wrapped around Frankie’s slender hips.

You feel Frankie answer him, an incoherent groan into your asshole as the tip of his tongue breaches you.

You’re on fire. Your cock is leaking a really pathetic stream onto Santi’s bedding, neglected, and you know you won’t come without any friction, but you also don’t want to. Not for a while, not until you get to feel Frankie’s cock inside you, get to see Santi watch him fuck you.

You’re anything but impatient, though. Santi was right, the smug asshole. You could keep Fish here for eternity, especially with how fucking diligent his tongue is, lapping you up and pressing inside of you, over and over. It’s dizzying, especially when he begins making desperate noises against you.

You know he’s in for the time of his life. Santi, as smug as he is, loves eating your ass ‘for hours.’ He’s fucking sloppy with it, and he does this thing with his thumbs that drives you—

“Fuck! Ay dios, Pope, what the fuck?”

Frankie falls lax into you, his nose against your hole and his lips brushing your taint as he curses.

“Yeah, you like that? Want me inside this cute little ass?”

Fish whines, shifts his face so he can bite the tender flesh where your thigh and ass meet, and all you can do is groan and push back into him as he gives Santi his answer.

“Damelo, need you, please.”

Santi hums, and you can tell by how it’s muffled that his mouth is once again occupied. Frankie recovers, though his tongue is much less coordinated now, a messy flurry of licks as he prods at your entrance.

Then you hear it, the click of a bottle opening, bouncing off the bedroom walls in a familiar way. You clench around Frankie’s tongue, a Pavlovian response, and he groans and fits his lips around your hole and sucks.

You’re babbling now, strings of nonsense, begging, and praise in the otherwise silent bedroom. You know the exact moment Santi sinks his thick finger inside of Frankie, because you feel him stiffen and shake against you, feel his nails dig into the meat of your cheeks where he’s spreading you open.

His mouth retreats, and you whine, but he’s tugging on you again to get you to lie on your back.

It’s a fucking sight when you’re finally able to watch. Fish has his back arched like a goddamn cat, presenting his ass to Santi, mouth gaping open at his skilled fingers.

Santi’s looking over him, one large hand splayed out on his back to keep him still as he fucks into him with what you assume is at least three fingers, the way Frankie’s drool is dripping from the corner of his mouth. Santi’s eyes are glued to his ministrations, where he’s slowly thrusting in and out, his big bicep flexing as he goes.

He manages to tear his eyes away, though, to look at you and wink.

“How’d he do? Think he deserves to fuck you, papi?”

You whimper at the mere thought of it, finally feeling him inside you.

You shake your head, but Santi tuts.

“Yeah— Yes, Santi. He did so good.”

Santi’s lips tilt up into a wicked smirk.

“There he is, that’s it, tell Francisco how good he is for us, huh?”

You see Frankie’s cock throb between his legs, hear a pathetic little noise fall from his lips. You and Santi both get a curious but delighted look on your faces at his reaction.

“Did so good, Francisco.”

He shivers, hides his face in the bedding between your thighs for a hot minute. A lungful of air escapes him, slow and methodical, before he tilts his head back to Santi.

“Lube?”

Santi huffs, tosses the bottle next to Fish’s head.

“Doesn’t take long for him. He likes the stretch, don’t you bebito?”

You huff, and your face feels hot and prickly as both men look at you. You squirm, and you don’t want to answer, you want at least a tiny bit of pride going into this, because you know you’re bound to come out the other side with absolutely none.

“He asked you a question,” Frankie says.

His gruff voice makes your breath catch.

Santi hums his approval behind him.

“Yeah, yeah, just— just two, give me two and I’ll be good.”

“What do you say, papi?”

And Jesus, this is the most Frankie’s said all night and it has your toes curling.

“Please, Frankie.”

He makes a patronizing, satisfied noise that makes you want to hide but also expose yourself even more. You want to give him everything, him and Santi, let them use you to get their pleasure however they want.

But then Fish groans, and you see Santi’s arm twisting behind him, reaching for that perfect spot. He makes a mess squirting lube out onto his fingers, and you at least have enough control of your faculties to lift your sac out of the way so Frankie can spread it across your hole.

It twitches under his fingers, begging, and so are you, just incoherent babbles as he teases you, toys with you. You think you maybe could wait him out, knowing he doesn’t get his until his cock is pressed inside you, but you don’t want to.

“Fuck,” you whimper, “please fuck me.”

“Yeah, good boy, there you are.”

You open your eyes at Santi’s voice.

“Give him what he wants, Fish. Give it to him so I can fuck you.”

Two fingers, right off the bat, pressed in slowly but surely in one swoop to the knuckle. You cry out, reaching for purchase and finding the bedsheets to twist into your clenched fists.

“You’re okay, you can take it, right?”

And it’s so goddamn mind-blowing, Santi talking you through it with Frankie’s fingers deep inside you.

You nod, opening your eyes again to look up at him. His eyes are so dark, and he’s stroking his thick cock as he continues stretching Fish out, and he looks hungry. He licks his lips and watches where Frankie’s fucking into you, boring holes where you’re connected. You have to reach down with your free hand and squeeze the base of your prick to get yourself together.

It doesn’t take long for you to adjust, to relax around his digits with a few deep breaths. He praises you, that’s it, take ‘em so well, wanna be fucked so bad don’t you? Your head spins with it as he works you open. Little by little your legs spread wider for him, hips canting up to direct him to the spot inside you that you want him to reach so desperately.

But he doesn’t. Once it’s obvious you’re ready to take him, he slips his fingers out and wipes the residue on the inside of your thigh.

“Gonna take me now?”

It’s a rhetorical question, obviously, as he grips behind your knees and pushes them to your chest. You answer anyway, your own voice so foreign to your ears as you plead for him.

Santi shushes you, and that familiar noise is calming enough to bring you back down to Earth, where he’s resting behind Frankie, one hand caressing his chest while the other grips his waist.

“Wanna be inside you, Fish,” he mumbles, nose pressed behind his ear, lips teasing his earlobe.

Fish’s eyes close, but he guides the head of his dick to your entrance and sinks in, blinding pressure as the head of him stretches you wide. When it slips past, you both gasp, and Santi groans into Frankie’s neck as he watches.

It feels like years, waiting for him to seat himself all the way inside you. It burns in the best way, friction that has goosebumps dotting every square inch of skin.

But then his thighs reach the backs of yours. He curses, moves your legs out of the way so he can cover your body with his own. Santi’s gaze is heavy where it falls, the place you and Frankie are fused together, as he spreads a healthy dollop of lube over his prick.

“Ready for me, baby?”

It’s palpable, the way the energy of the room shifts when Santi presses closer behind Frankie. Like he’s about to step off a ledge, Fish’s eyes widen and he looks at you with his brows drawn up tight. You reach for his curls, run your fingers through them, scrape your nails across his scalp in hopes that it evens out his breathing a bit.

Past Frankie’s shaking form, Santi’s expression is nearly identical. His bottom lip is caged between his teeth, brow furrowed, shoulders squared. His eyes flicker to you, and his features soften just a fraction before his hips begin to press forward.

Frankie sobs at first contact. His sweaty forehead falls to your chest. His cock is jerking inside you, rhythmic pulses as you watch Santi’s hips slowly inch forward.

“Relax for me, Fish. Deep breaths, baby. I’ve got you, take it for me.”

Santi sounds so wrecked. His voice is wispy, and so deep you can hardly hear from the bass in it. He’s never really sounded this way before, and the reality of this entire situation makes you clench around Frankie’s throbbing cock.

Santi curses in whispers, and you watch the sweat from his forehead drip down, between his eyes, down his nose, and drip onto Frankie’s heated skin. And then Frankie shifts, pulling out of you. And then, you realize, pressing Santi’s cock deeper inside himself.

You groan at the revelation, chase Fish’s hips with your own, a domino effect that sets both of them off as well. It doesn’t take much at all for them to find the right pace, like this is just as natural as everything else they do together. For a while you just take it in, let Frankie get his pleasure from you, let them discover the feeling of being so close to each other after a long while of only imagining.

Santi’s signature filthy mouth doesn’t make an appearance. Instead, he looks stunned silent above the both of you. His mouth hangs open like he wants to say something, but all that leaves his lips are grunts and groans that Frankie echoes into your sternum. His eyes don’t know where to look, so they float between where he’s fucking Frankie, and your own roaming eyes, and finally land where your hand grips Frankie’s hair.

He lets go of one of Fish’s hips to tangle his fingers with your own, tugging on those chestnut curls. Frankie slams his hips into you at the sensation, bites down on the meat of your pec and keens before he lets Santi’s grip pull his head back.

His eyes are completely fucking black, no iris to be found when his heavy eyelids open to look at you. And it’s a very strange thing, when you watch him look right through you and call out Santi’s name.

Strange, but fucking hot.

“Let it happen, Fish.”

“No. I– I can’t.”

“You can, fuck, don’t hold it. Come inside so I can fuck it out of him.”

Frankie crumbles. You watch it happen, his eyes snapping shut as he chokes on a high-pitched sound. His face twists up, and you feel his hips stutter against you as he starts chanting Santi’s name, over and over. His cock jerks with every wave of his release, and he’s shaking, collapsing dead-weight on top of you.

“That’s it, did so good. Feel so fucking good squeezing me Fish.”

You’re momentarily squished by the weight of two grown men when Santi rests against Frankie’s back. He kisses where he can reach, soothing the place on his scalp where he was tugging at the hairs.

“Mierda, Santi, get off you fucking oaf.”

And it’s cute, the way Frankie gets so grumpy even after he’s just come his brains out. You ruffle his hair, when he’s finally not sandwiched between you two, let him collapse beside you instead with a sweaty arm draped across your middle.

You only have a few moments to appreciate the tenderness before Santi’s lifting your leg onto his shoulder pressing his thick fingers inside you. The noise is obscene, and Santi swears as Frankie’s cum trickles out of you.

You know you’re in for it now. Santi sets his jaw and arranges your hips so he can slide right into you. You moan at the feeling, and the knowledge of where his cock has just been, noises tumbling out of you as he picks up the pace where Frankie left off.

And you almost forget about Fish, caught up in the pleasure of Santi railing you just how he knows you like. But then a warm, trembling hand wraps around your cock, even though Santi’s own are gripping onto you tight, and it’s heaven.

“Let me see you come,” Frankie says, voice all hoarse and worn out.

You whine, loll your head to the side to look at him.

But this time Santi’s hand is grabbing you, just shy of too rough when he takes your chin in his hand.

“You look at me. Look at me when I make you come, papi.”

And you take it as an order, because Frankie’s hand speeds up and squeezes tighter, and Santi’s fucking into you deep and fast like he does when he’s about to come.

You shake with it when it finally happens. Your spend splashes down Fish’s knuckles, up your stomach, your chest, christ some of it even lands on your chin. And you know you’re babbling but you don’t know what words you’re using, only know that they come from high in your throat as you gasp for air.

Santi follows you so closely, burying himself impossibly deep as he releases. You hear Frankie encouraging him, but the sound is miles away as your head swims in that familiar, blissful place.

When the ringing in your ears settles, and your vision unblurs, and all your nerve endings don’t feel like they’re on fire anymore, Santi’s cock has been replaced by his tongue. You give a weak protest at the overstimulation as his greedy mouth licks the mess out of you. It doesn’t matter, he comes up for air just as soon as you realize where he’s at.

Your bleary eyes watch as Santi leans over you, grabs Fish’s face in his hands and tugs at his bottom lip with one of his thumbs. Frankie opens his mouth, obedient as ever, and then a mix of Santi’s cum and his own is tumbling from Santi’s lips into Fish’s mouth.

Once the damage has been done, an image that will forever be burned into your mind, Santi lets his lips press against Frankie’s. He kisses him deep but slow, savoring the concoction of tastes, until Frankie has to lean back for air.

And then it’s silent, and still, and a pit of dread makes itself known in your gut in record time.

“I’ll grab us some towels. Don’t either of you move a muscle.”

Frankie huffs but stays put. You shake out some of the tensed-up muscles in your legs, grasping for something to say to break the tension.

Turns out you don’t have to.

“Bossy little prick,” Frankie mumbles.

It makes a giggle bubble up out of you, even though it’s not even that funny. You suppose the nervous energy needed out somehow.

“Don’t know what you see in him,” you agree.

Frankie hums, tilts his head like he’s contemplating it.

“I’m kidding. He’s sweet. You’re a lucky guy, so is he.”

You’re interrupted when Santi reenters, two fluffy towels in hand. You tidy up as best you can, then sigh when you no longer have anything to occupy your hands with.

“Stay the night?”

And this time, those familiar words are uttered by Frankie. It surprises you. For a moment you think he’s just being nice, appeasing you. But his brown eyes do that same thing that Santi’s do, where they get all wide and watery and it’s impossible to say no.

So you snuggle under the covers, and it’s a bit awkward at first with an extra set of limbs. Santi takes his coveted position as big spoon, but this time behind Fish. Then Frankie coaxes you closer, a hand at your back to urge you to rest your head on his outstretched arm.

The three of you talk about how hard you’re all going to sleep, and you close your eyes and listen to two other sets of breaths. You let it lull you to the edge of consciousness. Just before you slip under, Santi’s voice is deep and smooth.

“Te amo.”

And Frankie’s whisper is just as silky.

“Te amo.”

—

In the morning, you all wake up slow, and take care of business, and mosey out into the kitchen. It’s natural to watch Frankie make eyes at Santi over his eggs, but you know that Santi’s routine walk to your Uber will be anything but.

Their apartment door slams heavy behind you two as you head to the normal pick-up spot.

“So this is probably it, huh?”

You have to force yourself to look at Santi’s face, squinting in the mid-morning sun.

His brows draw up, and you really hope he doesn’t make this anymore awkward than it needs to be.

“It doesn’t have to be, no.”

His head shakes back and forth with his declaration, and you almost flinch when he reaches for your hand.

“Listen. Give us some time, you know? Let us… figure… this out. Once we settle, I wanna see you again. Fish does too.”

You’re sure your face is doing something funny, because Santi laughs and pushes you.

“Not gonna get rid of us that easy, cabrón.”

122 notes · View notes

anantaru · 1 year

Text

✦ ۫ 𑄼ల۫ ۪ DEC 8TH — FAVORITE WINTER ACTIVITIES

featuring: heizou, childe, xiao, albedo, diluc, itto, scaramouche, al-haitham x gn! reader

genre: fluff, crack ૮⍝◠ ·̫ ◠⍝ა | event.

✦ 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔

decorating the house

for heizou and you it was important to decorate and celebrate a warm and warm-hearted christmas vibe, the atmosphere being filled with both kindness and compassion, symbolizing your love to each other and the new season.

"how does this look?"

heizou held a dainty figurine in his hand, symbolizing an angel, wrapped in a white little garment as he held it on to the drawer next to the big christmas tree, being unsure if it would fit.

"I love it! it fits the white ornaments on our tree."

your glowing face was definitely better than the wintery season itself, the sides of your lips were split in an enticing smile as you walked towards him.

"i love the sound of 'our' tree."

flabbergasted with joy and delight he put the small figurine on the desk so he could place his hands on your waist, drawing you closer.

a kiss, only one, saying more than one thousand words, that threw you off reality, feeling like your feet barely touched the ground anymore.

upon pulling away, you held his cheeks in your palms, continuing, "we should continue to decorate." grabbing the silver ribbons and glitter off the table you tried to pull away from his grasp as he hooked his hand into you.

watching him with a confused expression, you continued, "there‘s still things to do on the tree."

"OUR tree, don't mess it up now."

✦ 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄

ice fishing

with ajax having an immense advantage surrounding this particular hobby— due to his father and him spending lots of time ice fishing together when he was little, he made it his duty to show you all the little tricks he had up his sleeve.

"wait, hold it like this."

your fingers were desperately cramping around the fishing rod, your hands struggling as he took them in his palm, wiggling you into the right direction.

"see, isn't that better?" his warm breath on your cheeks surely made you experience another familiar feeling, your smile being wide as you drew your eyes to him, thankful. "you're right."

"father and i always came here on the exact same spot, he showed me everything I'm showing you right now."

of course, you knew ajax was a big family person, his family was everything he had with you counting as a member of it as well.

the first time you met his parents you could still remember how excited he was, contentment warmed him from within when you were gradually opening up to them, laughing at each others jokes. He was so proud.

proceeding to let out some line from the fishing rod— so you could set the hook much further, you eagerly listened to the stories ajax would tell you about his childhood.

between the physical cold of the wintry day in snezhnaya, you shared each others company. An icy beauty was roaming, gently, a white sparkle as fine as any crystal would be when it began to snow, making the day very much more beautiful.

✦ 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

sledding

with a puffy winter coat, xiao and you decided to go out sledding, well, not quite.

you actually had that brilliant idea and xiao followed suit, he wanted to make sure nothing was happening and that you weren't going to catch a cold, as if he could prevent that in the first place.

"are you sure you aren't too cold? we can still go back."

there it was again, your laugh echoed through the icy area as you turned around to watch xiao place the sled on the ground, his brows being slightly scrunched together in thought.

"i'm fine, are you ready though?" obviously, teasing him was one of your favorite things to practice, xiao never went sledding before and he was quite fond of the idea to share a new experience with his s/o.

"why shouldn't i be?" embarrassingly shifting his weight from side to side, he crossed his arms over his body, the cold air continuing to color his cheeks in a red hue.

"nothing nothing, we should start the fun!"

sledding every cold season comes and goes, but doing it with your s/o sure leaves its own impression, one that will always be remembered within high esteem.

with the sled down, you could feel the spine chilling wind run across your bodies when you sank onto the ground with xiao following suit.

you were sitting right in between his legs, he wanted it that way even though you had suggested to change positions, xiao still wanted you to sit particularly like that so he could drape his body over yours.

upon sliding down your faces changed with yours glistering in joy and excitement, you were pretty high up the hill, meaning that the sled was far faster than you had expected.

screaming and laughing you snuggled into xiao who held his breath because he didn't know what to do or what to say, nuzzling himself into your body and watching you well up with happiness.

it brought him a ray of happiness as well, seeing you like this.

✦ 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐎

ice skating

you were moving in tandem with the crystal cold on you, albedo holding your hand as the both of you skated over the frozen lake in mondstadt.

if there was beauty in teyvat, it was here, in this moment, together with every weight lifted off your soul, it felt as if you were floating with him by your side.

"how are you so good at this albedo? you said it's your first time."

it was somehow hilarious how your boyfriend seemed to literally know everything by heart, even hobbies he had never tried nor thought about before.

"it is actually quite simple, the mass of the ice is nearly perfectly constructed to hold the people of mondstadt." yeah, that wasn't what you meant but you decided not to press the conversation any further, more so would he end up telling you all about the mass and construction of ice.

either way, those little quirks surely made you fall in love in the first place, albedo's fluffy hair was engulfed by the icy air, hiding significant features of his handsome face.

with your hand tightly shut around his, you continued to dance around the ice and albedo was barely able to conceal his delight. Of course, he was always itching to learn and experience new things and now, doing that, together with you?

truly the best way to greet the cold season.

✦ 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂

wrapping presents

every year, gifts were an exchange being made by friends and family, naturally diluc and you were quite entranced by the idea of sending various little goodies to your close ones, or at least, you were.

truth is, he could be a bit overwhelmed with it, when it came to gifting someone something he wasn't the most creative one either, really, he was struggling his butt off so he was happy to at least have you by his side.

"jean will love this homemade bread and hand written letter, I'm sure of it."

with that you looped a golden and red string over the packaged gift, placing it to the other already done goodies you had been working on earlier.

your eyes next, fell to diluc who was surprisingly struggling, his fingers were clumsily squeezing the wrapping paper over a dusty notebook.

"who is this gift for?"

curiosity caught the best off you as you rested your head against your palm, watching diluc add an ungodly amount of wrapping paper to the small book.

"kaeya."

how emotionless he let that name out, maybe he was too focused or he didn't want to talk about it. "you're gifting kaeya an old notebook?"

"it was my fathers, he should have it."

the next sight was adorable in your eyes, whenever diluc would get embarrassed his cheeks would flush red, sometimes the color would fade incredibly strong that it rivaled his hair.

"aw, that's so nice of you master diluc."

laughing and smiling, you rose up to wiggle yourself into his lap at last. Your boyfriend of course, let you, adoring nothing more than being close to you as you continued to watch him finish up kaeya's gift:

the gift he told you he wanted to wrap up himself.

✦ 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄

building a snowman

"this is stupid."

lets be honest here, you knew scaramouche wasn't fond of the idea of quote on quote playing in the snow, yet you still desperately wanted to build a snowman right in front of your home to uplift everyone's mood on the new developing season.

"come on, don't be a dealbreaker, you promised."

his eyes rolled in the back of his head as you spoke, but he didn't say anything, an annoyed groan was the last word you could perceive as he nearly finished the bottom of the snowman.

you could swore you saw a tiny sprinkle of a smile on him, maybe you were delusional but there was something that made it difficult for scaramouche to simply walk away or complain to you more.

"I'm only doing this for you so you better be thankful."

his focus was completely on you now, crystalized eyes watching you and waiting for some sort of reaction, or answer.

"i know and i‘m grateful for you."

knowing full on well it will make him flustered, you added a small giggle to your words as you brought your attention back to the headless snowman, attempting to grab onto the finished head.

"wait, let me do this." every person needed a harbor, a secure attachment and for scaramouche there was never a person like this, before you.

so even though he still despised the idea of building something as time consuming and stupid as a snowman— which will melt anyways, he wanted to at least try and show you that he was serious about another thing.

with a tiny bit of your help he settled the snowball on top of the body, you came prepared and added a tiny red scarf and a hat with scaramouche holding onto the carrot and two buttons.

in an attempt to give them to you, you turned away, beckoning him to do it himself as he followed with a deep sigh.

he was a bit rough at first so you had to make sure he wouldn't destroy the head of the snowman with his brute strength, but after careful guidance the both of you backed away to watch your craft it its full glory.

"our own creation."

with that, you wiggled your fingers into his. This sentence meant a lot to him, reminding him of a string of pain, with his eyes holding something akin to freedom.

✦ 𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐎

baking cookies

"DON'T TOUCH THIS ITTO IT‘S HOT!"

your screaming fell on deaf ears as itto grabbed onto the hot plate on the kitchen counter, squealing out upon making contact with it and almost throwing all of the cookies on the ground.

"ow, what the fuck?!"

with the way he was smacking the plate away, some of the cookies broke into tiny pieces as you sighed out at what your clumsy boyfriend had just did.

"noooo, we need to do it again now."

you weren't getting frustrated that often with itto's little schemes, in all honesty, you were used to it and quite accustomed to whatever measures you had to take to bath out whatever he would do or let happen.

"i didn't mean to, i swear"! worry was written all across his face with his brows being tightly scrunched together, anxiety wrinkles tickling on his forehead.

"i know, i know, lets do it again."

rubbing your eyes you walked over to your boyfriend who had an expression akin to someone who just saw a ghost as you placed your hands onto his cheeks, playfully squeezing the flesh.

"you need to concentrate."

his lips trembled as happiness threw itself at him like a comet, nodding frantically at your words as a newfound dedication swelled within him.

"okay, lets do this!"

breathing out a long sigh while shaking your head, you grabbed onto the big bowl from beforehand to start over, itto following your every step like a lost puppy who didn't know any better.

with being already familiar with the recipe, it didn't take you long to finish the dough, just a few ingredients being missing before you could go on to prepare them for the oven again.

"you know." he suddenly spoke, taking the sugar off the counter to hand it over to you with a overly confident smirk on his lips.

"what if i *did* do it on purpose to spend more time with you?"

✦ 𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌

stargazing + winter camping

under the darkened sky, between the clouds, in their usual mesmerizing appearence, the glow of the stars were prancing through the transparent clouds and illuminated the world within.

al-haitham and you were nuzzled together in both heavy winter coats and a couple of blankets, sipping on a cup of tea he had prepared as you gazed away.

it was intimate, but not in a sexual way, simply in a pure, soul blooming way you sadly weren‘t able to experience all the time with the both of you being busy on a daily basis.

"did you hear about the story of teyvat and their three moons?"

his warm hand was seeking you as he looped his arm over your shoulders, drawing you close.

"no, what is it about?" even though he would deny it, al-haitham had a way with words and on how to explain certain things, quite contradicting as the akademiya‘s scribe, yet it made him the perfect story teller in your eyes.

"once there were three moon sisters, named aria, sonnet and canon living in a lunar palace."

"sounds like a fairy tale." raising your brow with a giggle you nudged yourself closer to him with al-haitham‘s eyes glued to the sky.

"it might be, but who knows? the sky is endless."

you could see the stars twinkling in his unique colored eyes. No words have been spoken for a while, the proximity filled with pure calmness as the cold air was signifying the start of a new season.

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danaewrites · 2 months

Text

Helmet Over Heels

part i: the winter of our discontent

din djarin x reader // read it on AO3

word count: 3.8k

summary: When your path literally collides with a beskar-covered Mandalorian one night, neither of you expect how that meeting will irreversibly change the trajectory of your lives.

You’re pulled into his powerful orbit, agreeing to take care of his son in exchange for adventure and freedom– when he’s not off hunting bounties and inadvertently saving villages in need, that is. It’s the perfect plan. Or it would be, if only your quiet crush on the man would stop growing into something more with every hour you spend together. There’s no way he’d ever feel the same, right?

And Din? Well, he’s been trying (and failing) to convince himself that he’s not completely helmet over heels for you since day one. But a Mandalorian can only repress his emotions for so long…

(This fic takes place sometime after Season 2. Din’s back on his bounty-hunting business with a Razor Crest that was never destroyed and an adorable green sidekick who won’t stop chewing on its wires.)

tags: strangers to friends to lovers, slow-ish burn, nicknames, touch-starved din djarin and fem!reader, canon-compliant through season 2 and then Jesus takes the wheel :P

author's notes:

hello and welcome to my first ever mando fic!! i binged the entirety of the first two seasons in a week to get me through tedious internship work and accidentally fell in love with our favorite space dad and his cute green child along the way. oops (i regret nothing)

with the outline i currently have for this fic, it’ll be around 11-12 chapters, although that’s likely to grow as we get deeper into the story. the posting schedule might be anywhere from once a week to once a month, but this wip *will* be finished.

the second chapter's scheduled to upload next week as a little treat for y'all, so if you want to catch it then hit that follow button or ask to be added to my taglist! ;)

read it all here: part i, part ii, part iii, part iv coming soon!

You watched the last of tonight’s drunken patrons stumble out of the cantina and into the bitter Nath night with a relieved sigh. Wiping your hands on the stained apron tied around your waist, you fished a set of bronze keys out of a tiny pocket and began your nightly walk around the perimeter of the bar, locking doors and pulling down rusty shutters as you went. The cantina was silent aside from your quiet shuffling– a welcome reprieve from its usual crowded bustle and chatter so hectic you could barely hear your own thoughts.

You hummed softly as you adjusted booths back to their original positions and swept crumbs off of battered tabletops, wishing that the small holospeaker at the edge of the room hadn’t been broken in a recent bar fight. Swaying to its pre-Imperial oldies throughout your long, exhausting shifts had been one of the only perks of working in this run-down cantina, but without the soothing ambience of music, a chill threatened to sink into your bones and paralyze you with the deep depression this side of the planet seemed to have succumbed to.

You never planned to stay here for as long as you had. No one really did, except for criminals who knew that no one would willingly come here to search for them and locals who had never known anything else. Nath might have been charming, once– all soft snowflakes and peaceful walks under sepia-toned streetlights– but that was before the Empire had destroyed every semblance of comfort and culture and replaced them with brutalist brick structures that were already crumbling under the weight of their makers’ crimes. The fear lingered long after the Imps had finally left the post, reflected in the sad eyes of the fishmongers’ children and the way one would be hard-pressed to find a factory worker who didn’t spend his nights nursing a bottle and the ghosts of blaster scars across his back.

You had your own scars, of course, but you still held out hope that things would change and you’d make it out of here– although that hope was gradually diminishing as off-world shuttles visited less and less frequently and the permanent winter worsened. Five years ago, you’d been unceremoniously dropped off at the town’s dingy port, forced to land after your shuttle to Corellia was damaged by an unexpected detour through an asteroid field. You’d taken the cantina job thinking you’d only stay long enough to pay for passage on an outgoing ship, but soon learned that any shuttle risking the terrible weather to land here would also charge an exorbitant boarding price– one that would take you years to afford with the meager pay you received. And your tentative plan of stowing away on a spice freighter and sneaking off once it arrived at its destination (you weren’t picky about where, so long as it wasn’t Nath) was tempered by the increasingly likelihood that you’d get blown to pieces the minute you entered space by one of the pirate gangs that ruled the atmosphere these days. So– you were stuck here, at least for now.

The smell of something burning in the back of the cantina drew you out of your thoughts. Cursing, you raced to the kitchen, where your dinner was quickly blackening on the stove. Kriff. You shut off the burner, staring at the charred mess before you for a few seconds before dejectedly scraping it into an almost-overflowing trash bin. Well, there went your plan to eat quickly and head to your tiny flat before the storm outside worsened. Your rental pod had barely enough space for your bed and a miniscule bathroom, so you had to use the cantina kitchen if you wanted to stay fed– but the stove here was so old, it took half an hour longer than usual to cook anything. You resigned yourself to another night sleeping in a booth, since the flurry outside would prevent you from navigating your way home safely.

You sliced up a few vegetables and set them to simmer in a pot with the last of the herbed broth and sandseed noodles from today’s lunch special, glancing at the bin next to you. It was probably a good idea to take out the foul-smelling waste before you were sealed in next to it all night. Wrinkling your nose at the unappealing scraps of food threatening to fall off the top of the pile, you hefted the bin up and maneuvered it through the back door of the cantina, being careful not to stain your apron any more than it already was. The harsh winds nipped at every sliver of exposed skin and dusted your hair with a pearlescent sheen of snow, making you wish you’d thought to slip on something warmer than your thin blouse and trousers before leaving the protection of the kitchen.

You navigated through the blizzard to the end of the dark alleyway behind the cantina, your path lit only by two buzzing lamps at each end of the narrow corridor. You scrunched your face up against the cold, willing yourself to keep walking despite your extremely limited night vision. Just a few more steps, and then you’d be free of your compostable burden for the night. You turned the corner, stepping to the left where you knew the trash compactor was, and immediately collided with a giant hunk of metal.

Said hunk of metal cursed loudly as it stumbled head-first over the garbage bin you’d dropped in shock after the impact, falling forward into the snow. “Dank ferrik!”

Your eyes grew wide as the glow of the flickering streetlights illuminated the very-much-alive Mandalorian lying in front of you. It was just your luck that you’d managed to potentially injure the kind of warrior you’d only heard about in hushed rumors, or at least someone who was wearing the armor of one. Okay, injure was a strong word, but all that cold, hard beskar couldn’t be very comfortable to fall on despite the protection it offered.

“Stars, I’m so sorry, let me–”

You reached forward, stretching out a hand to help the Mandalorian up when a small green head suddenly popped up out of a tawny bag slung across their side. You yelped in surprise, losing your balance on the icy road and toppling forward. You winced, bracing yourself and preparing for the inevitable impact– except right as you were about to hit the ground, one steel-clad arm shot out to grab your wrist while the other steadied your hips. You gasped at the warmth of the unexpected contact, pulse quickening as you stared at the–man? person?–beneath you, the only thing preventing you from a nasty collection of bruises appearing across your side tomorrow.

A deep baritone sounded from the helmet– likely modulated, from the slightly grainy tone. “Are you alright?”

Definitely a man, then. You pointedly ignored the butterflies that stirred to life in your stomach at the sound of his voice, praying that he would attribute your shiver to the cold and nothing more. Stars, this was getting more embarrassing by the minute. You tucked away the thought, making a note to do some serious soul-searching later on about the depth of your touch-starvation and its potential impact on your mental state.

You gave a quick nod, muttering your thanks and carefully rolling to the side as you dusted clumps of snow off of your trousers. You looked up at him to see him gently picking up the little green creature you’d been so startled by earlier and tucking it back into the bag, pulling his cloak over its head to shield it from the chill. That was… rather cute, actually. You thought Mandalorians were supposed to be scary fighters, dedicated to nothing but their Creed, but this one was clearly fond of the small thing clinging to him. You couldn’t blame him; the green creature’s big ears and bug eyes were adorably endearing.

The cold winds picked up pace, and you wondered why anyone would be out here during such a storm as you got to your feet. Anyone local would have sought shelter hours ago, and no freighter would dare to land in such conditions.

“Are you... lost?” You tentatively asked. “Can I help you find someone?”

The Mandalorian remained silent for several long seconds, helmet tilted slightly. Whatever he saw in your face seemed to have settled well with him, and he released a quiet huff through the modulator.

“I need to get food. For my son,” he eventually admitted, gesturing to the baby peeking up at you.

“Oh!” You brightened up considerably as you remembered the flavorful soup you’d started earlier. “Well– I work in a cantina back there,” you said, pointing behind you at the rusted door that led to the kitchen.

“We’re technically closed right now, but I’m sure I can work something out.” You winked at the curious child, smiling as he let out a happy babble.

The Mandalorian’s helmet hadn’t moved from its focus in your direction, and you suddenly felt nervous. Which seemed stupid, because–yeah, it felt intense, but was he even looking at you from behind the dark visor of his helmet? For all you knew, he was making the most ridiculous expression at you behind all that beskar and you’d never know. The absurd thought made you snicker softly. If no one could see your face, you’d definitely act goofy at people all the time.

The Mandalorian’s head tilted slightly, and whoops, he’d definitely noticed your little moment now if he hadn’t been paying attention before. Your face reddened and you quickly gestured for him to follow you as you unlocked the door to the kitchen, relieved when you heard the soft clink of his armor come through the doorway behind you.

You placed your hands on your hips, surveying the dimly lit cantina and deciding to lead the duo to a worn table close to the bar. It looked unassuming, but the chairs were the comfiest in the cantina and you figured the baby would appreciate something softer than the coarse bag he’d been in.

Once they’d gotten settled in, you set about finding a mug of blue milk for the kid and some water for the Mandalorian. You brought the drinks over to the pair, hiding a smile at how eagerly the little green baby reached for his.

“You’re pretty thirsty, huh?” You observed as the baby slurped up the cerulean beverage. Shooting the tall, beskar-clad man a glance out of the corner of your eye, you continued, “Must have been quite the trip. Most people don’t usually travel to this side of the galaxy for vacation.”

To your disappointment, the Mandalorian remained as still and stoic as ever. Well, that just wouldn’t do. He was your first visitor in years from anywhere outside of Nath, and you were absolutely not letting him leave without getting a bit of juicy detail on life outside of your current drudgery. You decided to go for another angle.

“You know, kids need good role models in their lives. Ones that show them how to socialize with others and communicate. Display generosity of the loquacious sort, even.” You shrugged innocently in your best attempt to mimic the overly casual air the old women at the tea shop always used before passive-aggressively attempting to set you up with their stay-at-home-nephews. “Never too late to start.”

You got the distinct feeling that he was laughing at you under that helmet. Rude. Huffing, you sat down across the table from him and crossed your arms, trying to guess where under his visor his eyes were. Once you were half-confident that you’d found the spot, you stared intensely at it with your most intimidating expression. Which wasn’t saying much, seeing as you had the firepower of a soggy Lothkitten and probably came off as more desperate than anything.

“Isn’t there some sort of honor code for Mandalorians? One that includes being noble to strangers and whatnot?”

No response. Argh.

“Well, I’d consider it pretty noble to provide a lonely soul such as myself with a bit of storytelling entertainment on this frigid evenin–”

Your final attempt at prying some information out of the armored man was interrupted by the sound of the kitchen timer beeping increasingly louder and louder until you were sure the whole cantina was vibrating with the tinny noise.

“KRIFF, not again!”

You bolted out of your seat towards the kitchen, but not before you heard a thinly disguised huff of amusement coming out of the modulator. Okay, he was definitely laughing at you.

Once you’d successfully saved the soup from imminent destruction-via-cursed-stove and somewhat regained your pride, you finally made your way back to the table with three steaming bowls of noodles. You placed the smallest one in front of the child, who cooed happily and immediately began plopping his hands in the bowl. The Mandalorian huffed in exasperation and began prying little green fingers out of the bowl. “Hey. Quit that, we talked about this,” he grumbled. You winced as broth sloshed out of the bowl, landing dangerously close to the baby’s tunic. The kid’s lower lip started to tremble, a blaring warning sign that a tantrum was going to occur in approximately ten seconds if he wasn’t distracted from his current petulant state.

“Oh– hey, bug, don’t do that,” you said as both father and son turned to look at you. You leaned closer to the wide-eyed baby and pointed to his bowl. “That’s pretty hard to scoop up, yeah? Look, there are easier ways to eat it,” you explained as you brought the bowl up to your lips and raised an eyebrow, hoping that he would do the same. The kid blinked up at you for several long seconds before turning to his father with outstretched hands. The Mandalorian sighed, but held up the dish as requested. You hid a smile behind your bowl at the sight.

“Good job! Okay, now we’re going to try something fun–” You mimed slurping up the soup with a silly face at the baby, who burbled something incomprehensible in response but finally followed your example and focused on his food.

When you were sure that the baby’s clothes were no longer in danger of being drenched by broth– and by extension, frozen stiff whenever the pair headed back into the storm–you quietly tucked into your own meal, closing your eyes at the warm memories the comforting flavours brought. Not for the first time, you missed the earthy smell and placid weather of your homeworld, a stark contrast to this icy prison of a planet.

“You are… good with him.”

Your eyes darted up to find the Mandalorian’s helmet angled directly at you. Your face heated at the observation and you gave a small laugh, willing yourself to resist fidgeting under his gaze.

“I– thank you, I’ve always liked kids. Used to volunteer in the nursery back home, actually, before the Empire stole every resource from it they could.”

Your eyes widened with sudden realization. “You’re not Imperial, are you?”

The Mandalorian scoffed vehemently, the most emotion he’d displayed since he’d fallen back in the alley. “No.”

Well, that answered a few questions at least. You were prepared to move on from the conversation when he hesitantly spoke, “My ship ran into a few… asteroids. Is there a mechanic nearby?”

You set down your spoon, thinking. The closest asteroid field was four solar systems away and almost entirely inaccessible if one was traveling through hyperspace, so the likelihood that he’d truly run into one was small. In that case, he probably had damage from some kind of fight— seeing as the average pacifist wouldn’t need that much armor— and would want someone reliable who wasn’t going to ask questions about laser-sized holes in his ship’s hull.

He hadn’t tried to kill or rob you yet, so you figured his personal tussles were none of your business and decided to give him an honest recommendation. You directed him to a small mechanical hub close to the ice huts where there were few ships and even fewer nosy citizens. “The owner, Sanna, is the best in town,” you admitted. “I haven’t had the chance to visit her personally, but she’s known for being very discreet.”

He nodded, entering the coordinates you’d given him into some sort of device on his wrist. You tried to contain your pleased expression at correctly guessing his reason for being on Nath. And it had only taken you… well, four tries, but that was better than nothing!

“What is your price?”

You blinked, confused. “My price?”

There was that increasingly frequent head tilt again. His helmet tipped forward, scanning you. “For the food. And information.” He clarified slowly.

“Oh,” you spoke, surprised. “It’s okay, I was making dinner for myself anyway. And you’d have found out the location of the mechanic from someone else eventually,” you shrugged.

You couldn’t see his face, but from the disbelieving tone of his voice you imagined his eyebrows to be raised. “Not many people would turn down credits.”

You winced, reminded of your costly dream to get off-world, but there was no way you’d accept this stranger’s money for such a small favor when he had a kid he needed to provide for. “Yeah, well. Guess I’m not most people,” you laughed sheepishly.

The Mandalorian muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like no, you definitely are not. You squinted at him accusingly.

“Hey, you better not be making fun of my interrogation tactics, metal man.” You leaned forward to poke his soup bowl emphatically. Hm, that was strange– he hadn’t so much as touched it. Did Mandalorians follow some kind of special diet? You resolved to look that up the next time you had access to a datapad.

“Wouldn’t dream of doing that to a lonely soul like yourself.” He responded dryly.

You gasped in mock offense, forgetting your previous train of thought and internally groaning that he’d remembered that part of your disastrous attempt to weasel information out of him. Yeesh. Not your most eloquent moment. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you cared,” you shot back in the most syrupy-sweet tone you could muster.

The kid grinned up at you with sharp teeth and blew a soupy bubble towards your face in response. You smiled down at him, adding, “But if you really want to repay me, then bring me back a good story about this little guy the next time you crash land through a— what did you call it? Asteroid field.” You highly doubted the duo would ever willingly return, but if making a deal gave this man peace of mind to know his imaginary debt was settled in some future way then so be it.

The lights in the cantina began to flicker and you got up with a frown, walking over to the electrical box behind the bar. The dull grey display, crammed with incomprehensibly labelled switches and flashing lights that would give anyone a headache, alerted you that the main generator had been depleted of power. You scrambled over to a window, prying open the shutters a crack only to be met with a dark swirl of snow that completely obscured your view of the street. Stars, the storm had worsened quickly— there was absolutely no chance you were making it home tonight. You slammed the shutter closed and turned around with a grimace that didn’t go unnoticed by the Mandalorian.

“What is it?” He questioned, modulated voice growing wary at the expression on your face.

“We’re running out of power, the main generator’s down from the storm so these lights are going to have to shut off soon. I think there’s enough in the emergency generator to heat the cantina through the night, though.” You hesitated, not sure how to break the bad news. “Unfortunately, the weather is— unmanageable. You’re not making it out of here to the mechanic’s until the blizzard lets up.”

He didn’t respond for a few seconds, so you continued talking. “I was.. planning on sleeping here tonight.” You muttered, trying to think of a plan. You glanced at the sleepy child resting on the Mandalorian’s beskar chest plate. “I usually keep a couple blankets here for that reason— pretty sure there’s enough to cover the baby, but you might need to be okay with sharing.”

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, searching your memory for where the emergency supplies were kept. Kriff. How were you supposed to know that you’d be snowed in, and with guests no less? Your grumpy boss really should have put instructions for this type of situation in the closing shift directions instead of the usual “sweep the floors” or your personal favorite: “if the customer creates a corpse, they gotta clean it up themselves”.

The Mandalorian interrupted your musings with a firm, “No need,” gesturing to the charcoal cloak fastened around his pauldrons. You eyed it dubiously, but supposed that the material looked thick enough. That was probably to your benefit, anyway, since you were something of a notorious blanket hog and didn’t think he’d take kindly to having his sheets ripped off him in the dead of night. That seemed like a quick way to wake up with more bruises than you went to sleep with.

“Well— alright then,” you sighed at last, tossing the smaller of your blankets to the man and tucking the other into the side of a nearby booth. “I’ll shut off the lights in a moment. Refresher’s that way, if you need it,” you pointed to the end of a dimly lit hall. The Mandalorian nodded once, then returned his attention to carefully cocooning the child in his lap. You set to work fluffing up your own makeshift bed, folding the cleanest dishtowel you could find into a pillow before trudging over to the light switch and enveloping the room in darkness.

Quietly feeling your way back to your booth, your eyes adjusted to the pitch-black little by little. You pulled your hair out of its messy updo and curled up on the seat, body slowly relaxing. It was strange, hearing the muffled rhythm of breaths coming from lungs that weren’t your own, but oddly soothing in its own way.

“G’night,” you mumbled, half-asleep already, consciousness swirled down the psychological drain by the overpowering storm raging outside. The lull-and-hitch of the baby’s soft snores echoing off of solid beskar set you drifting off to sleep faster than you had as a child, so lost to the world that you were sure you dreamed the quiet, belated whisper that sounded back to you.

taglist: @magpiencrow @that-kid143 @lilly-aliyah @itmustbegreattobecalledtheitgirl

comment if you'd like to be tagged for any of my works/fandoms in the future! :)

read on: part ii, part iii, more coming soon!

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selarina · 8 months

Text

→ Suna Rintaro x Fem!Reader

Summary: When a guy asks for your number, you sternly insist on a condition that leads to unexpected love.

Content Warning: Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, Highly Suggestive, Canon-Compliant, Swearing, Social Media AU

Taglist: Open

Series Masterlist

Chapter 12: Aquarium Date

Written Portion

Apart from the bustling traffic outside, it's rather quiet inside the car, the soft tune from the radio barely reaching your ear.

"You look pretty," Suna's voice breaks the silence. You turn and notice that his eyes still remain focused on the slew of cars in front of him

He's wearing something of a pseudo suit, a soft blue shirt donning his figure as he continues to drive. His hair was a bit combed, a stark contrast from his usual mussed self. "Likewise," you reply, your gaze soon drawing back to the road ahead.

"So, how did you know?" You continue to add, "About the aquarium, I mean."

"Oikawa told me," he reveals plainly.

Your eyebrows arch in surprise, "When did you start talking to him?"

"Just recently. Just texted him while I was searching for places," he explained.

A subtle disquiet settles in, prompting a dramatic sigh from you. "This is bad news for me."

The car comes to a halt; your glance shifts upward, catching sight of the red traffic signal. You turn your head to him and find that his eyes are already fixed on you, "And why's that, baby?"

"Well," you pout. "He has a lot of shit on me."

He smiles, leaning down to leave a soft kiss to shoo away the pout.

"Are they together now or something?" He asks.

"Yeah, Iwa asked him out on Twitter like a moron. Oikawa's never going to let him live that down."

"Poor guy," he muses in response.

"So, since it's our first date as a couple and all." You ask, curious. "How are we feeling?"

"How are you feeling?" he deflects. "I did plan this for you, you know."

A smile tugs at your lips, "I feel good so far. So long as the glasses on the aquarium don't break, I think it might be the best first date ever."

"First best date ever? My my, aren't you setting the standards too high?"

"Never with you, baby."

A soft smile etches itself onto his lips as he revs up the engine, the car gliding through the traffic as the traffic signal turns green.

—

“Suna, look! That's Bioluminescent Jellyfish. I've always wanted to see one," you exclaim, your voice filled with wonder.

He joins you, positioning himself behind you to see where you're pointing. “Where exactly?”

With a soft chuckle leaves your lips, you playfully nudge him. "You don't have to stand right behind me, you know."

He tilts his head, his expression genuinely intrigued. "I really can't see it."

With an amused smile, you step back to his side and gently guide his gaze with your hand, directing his attention to the delicate corals at the bottom of the expansive tank. "See those white fish?"

He lets out a contemplative hum, focusing on the area you're indicating. "Yes."

"Right next to them," you say as you turn, watching his feigned squinting turning into a smirk he couldn't fully withhold.

You move back, tilting your head, as he continues to smirk. "Always a game huh, Suna Rintaro?"

He grins, a silent affirmation as his hands come to pull you in front of him. He rests his chin on your shoulders as the two of you watch in silence.

"They're pretty though, aren't they?" You speak up.

"Not as pretty as you," he replies, leaving a soft peck on your cheeks.

The two of you spend the rest of the evening, flitting through from one side of the tank to the other, moving onto different tanks, and soon as the hours dissolve the two of you start heading to the exit.

You gaze upon the tank one last time and turn to find Suna but as you do, you find Suna with his phone up, discreetly attempting to take a photo of you.

"Have you been taking pictures of me, Suna Rintaro?"

"Just the one," he says, showing you the result. "Can I post it?"

Fun Fact:

When they were 14, Y/N told Oikawa that her ideal date would be a trip to the local aquarium. He has been trying to take her on a friendship date ever since, but something has always come up. He's just glad Suna could give her the perfect date he always wanted to give her.

TAGLIST: @wolffmaiden @tenaciouswritersheep @90s-belladonna @alienvarmint @kodzuchim @themoonreflectsthesun @baramii @haruskatana @rukia-uchiha-98 @aimno256 @userwithlotsoftime @the-moonandthehermit @alldaladiesloveleooo @iluv-ace @noideawhothatis @vivian-555 @buggy-cj @butterscotch-ripple-icecream @cloudsvna @zukowantshishonourback @rory-cakes @shookykookie30 @2baddies-1porsche @thechaosoflonging @rntrsuna @ahnneyong @saiewithakatana @sukunasrealgf @reveusecherie @tkooooop @k0z3me @riiceandsoup @weird0o0 @toomanygoldfish @seiamor @thebrownemo @breakmyheartlater @xbl00dy-r0s3x @linmabbe

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biggestxsimps · 11 months

Note

How about Harry Potter X shark like wizard reader.

Like reader accidentally turned himself into a shark once but couldn't fully turn back, so now he's human with tiny shark features.

Like features like sharp teeth or like webbed fingers.

And it's like really fluffy...

You guys can decide what kinda story since tbh...Idk what to do..

Have a nice day🪻 ( ・∇・)

Harry Potter x Shark-Like Male Reader Scenarios

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I’ll admit, it was pretty tough to write this, but I hope it’s alright! Also sorry that it took so long, I’ve been a little busy recently. This is just a few short scenarios put together, I haven't written stuff in this layout before so I hope it’s okay. I just reread the request and omg I forgot to add the fluff.😭

Small mentions of blood! Nothing gorey, just a bit of bleeding.

~~~

Harry's POV:

It was quite normal to see students with extra limbs, animal parts and inhuman features, but usually it was the effect of a spell or potion. So one boy really threw me off, I hadn't seen him around before he introduced himself to me. I thought the gills or the webbed fingers were just a result of something he took.

But after seeing him around a few more times, I noticed that they hadn’t gone away. I had never seen him without those fish-like features. I’ve seen a lot but this truly puzzled me.

I had planned on asking him how he’d had gotten them, or if he was born with them. But I barely knew him, I didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, or weird him out with my curiosity.

~~~

I was in the Great Hall, eating my dinner when my eyes landed upon the odd boy again. Y/N. I know it’s rude to stare but I couldn’t help it. Once he went to take a bite out of a drumstick, I noticed his incredibly sharp teeth. They savagely ripped through the chicken, cleaning the bone in a matter of seconds, my body shivering at the sight.

That’s when I hear a gasp and a wince. I look back over at the boy, one of his pointy teeth in his right hand, blood slightly dripping from his mouth. The students around him started to worry, he dismissed them, the conversation barley being audible from where I sat.

“Don’t worry, it happens like every other week.”

I watched as his goofy smile grew wider, while he explained to the other students that another tooth would replace it in the matter of a couple days. Wow.

~~~

I had gotten closer to Y/N, we hang out pretty often now. I had invited him to hang out around the castle, it being a weekend, neither of us had all that much to do. I saw him walking from one of the halls, noticing him wearing his own clothes opposed to the school robes I was so used to seeing him in.

We greeted each other as he walked up to me, him asking me to lead the way on our ‘little adventure’ around Hogwarts. I chuckle before starting to walk, my steps stumble as my eyes adjust to the back of his clothes though. I thought it was just my eyes playing a trick on me, but once taking a closer look I realised what I had seen.

A small pointy (S/C) fin protruding from the top of his back. “Are you alright, Harry.” I look over to his face, his lips curved in a confused smile, I quickly nod as I catch back up with him. God, what else was he hiding?

~~~

Y/N and I were going steady now, we’ve been together for about a month now. I had planned on confessing to him during one of our hangouts, but he beat me to it. But it turned out all the same nevertheless.

Most nights we hang out, whether it be in our common rooms or around the halls, even outside Hogwarts walls. But tonight he told me to meet him at the Great Lake, telling me had something he wanted to show me. I’d never been a fan of the lake but it wasn’t like there was any harm in going.

So that’s what I was doing now, making my way to the Great Lake. It wasn’t long until I saw Y/N in the distance, sitting just behind the water with his arms wrapped around his legs. His head turns back at the sound of my approaching steps, a bright smile appearing on his face as he greeted me.

“G’ Evening, Love.” He lifts himself up, dusting the back of his pants before walking towards me. “Evening Y/N.” I smile up at the gushing boy in front of me. “You brought your swimsuit, yeah?” I nod. “Yeah, just like you asked.” I feel my smile widen looking at him, his own being too contagious.

“Alright, alright. Come in with me.” I watch as he pulls off his shirt, his fin slightly getting in the way, before diving into the lake. I follow his actions, making my way to the water as he swims around, waiting for me.

I swim my way to him, far enough for the lake to be moderately deep before he swims around me, after a couple laps he dives into the water. I look around, waiting for him to pop back up, but he never does. “Y/N?” It had only been about 40 seconds but he must’ve been pretty far enough down, to where I couldn’t see him from outside of the water.

I start to panic at around the minute and a half mark, frantically looking around to see if he came up before sinking into the water. There I see him, smiling as he waves from about 10 metres below me. Bubbles start to escape the gills on his cheeks and that’s when I realise, I bring my head back up, Y/N swimming back to the top at the same time.

“You scared me for a minute there.” I admit as his goofy grin just grows. His arms wrap around me, chuckling as he lets out a "Oops, sorry." I playfully roll my eyes before reaching for his cheek, his head leaning further into the touch.

~~~

A/N: I read that shark’s typically lose 1 tooth every week and have it replaced in a day, so I thought I’d add it lol. I haven’t been that motivated as of recently, so I’m sorry if this isn’t written as well as some of my other fics. And sorry for how ooc Harry is oml. I've also got a couple more requests to get out, so please forgive me if they come out a little late 🤧

Also thank you guys so so much for 300 followers!! We are so thankful to all of you that have interacted with our stuff, we really appreciate you all!

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tsireyasyawntu · 4 months

Text

great mother knows all

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- Kiri sully x sister of Roxto! reader

summary: You defend kiri from your little brother and his friends, and something sparks between you both.

a/n: kiri’s such a cutieeee i had to write something for her. I swear that eywa was the one who placed her in grace’s womb after they tried to save her at the spirit tree

kiri stare down at the water before her, seeing the small animals poke their heads from the small bits of sand; admiring the way they behaved.

her view was obscured by a shadow looming over her, followed by a few more. Kiri rose from the water, barely hearing the foul words of the Metkayina boys that stand in front of her.

“huh?” she asked curiously, standing up. “what’d you say?” the boys laughed, “are you some kind of.. freak?” Aonung asked, “he asked if you are a freak!” Roxto repeated as Kiri sigh, her ears falling down as she retreated to the shore; “no.”

Aonung and the group followed close behind, “are you sure?” he mocked, speeding up to catch her.

“i mean, you’re not even real Na’vi.” he tried to grab her hand, but she pulled away as the other boys laughed.

suddenly, a girl appeared from behind Aonung, slapping him in the head. “Aonung! Roxto!” you loudly said, a Na’vi accent very heavy in your voice— watching his ears fall back. “How dare you insult our guest.” you bit, ears pinned back as you defended Kiri. She’d never seen you before— well, perhaps once or twice around Tsireya, but never getting a good look at your face.

“But, sister, we were-“ Roxto tried defending their actions. you interrupted him, “you should be ashamed of yourself, brother.” you sigh. “as should all of you. How dare you speak to someone so cruelly.” They listened to your words, Aonung rolling his eyes as Kiri watched with bewildered. “Eywa would be displeased with your actions. Mistreating one of her creations is the action of sky people.” Your words made Aonung angry, trying to grab Kiri’s hand to prove a point. You smacked his fingers away, growling at his antics and successfully defending her. “your father would be humiliated at your actions, aonung . do not embarrass the olo'eyktan anymore than you already have.” His face dropped, ears pinning behind his head as yours did. “Leave, and take my pitiful excuse as a brother and your other dumb friends away from her, do not bother to come back unless you seek to apologize.” Roxto sigh at your words, grumbling as him and his group walked off, your eyes on them until they were far enough away.

“are you alright?” you asked her, searching for any possible wounds. she only looked at you, swallowing. “yes.. thank you.”

you sent her a sheepish smile. “of course. I apologize for my brother and his embarrassing actions. He can be a skxawng.” Kiri laughed a little at your words, and you smiled. “You are Kiri, yes?” you made sure, watching her head nod.

“wonderful. would you like to go for a swim?” you offered, watching as she nodded her head hesitantly. “do not worry, i will not be like my brother.”

you two made your way into the ocean, gliding smoothly against the water as you held your breath. You were pleasantly surprised by how long kiri could hold her breath- much longer than you’d expected for an omaticaya. your smiled didn’t falter as you two swam, and neither did hers. You two swam under the sea together in a rhythm you didn’t know was possible. The animals were so welcoming to kiri, almost as she spoke to them. You admired her love for the world Eywa has created, and you began to question her heritage. You were clearly a more clean swimmer, but you absolutely adored being with her. She smiled as fish followed you both in the ocean, and you enjoyed the sight. her smile was beautiful.

You clicked for an Ilu, grabbing hold and calling one for Kiri as well- you both riding together- ilu swimming around one another before coming to surface upon seeing others riding together.

you both came from the ocean, coming face to face with some of Kiri’s siblings.

“Kiri!” the young one spoke, excited to see her older sister. Tsireya saw you, and you rode up to her. “what is happening?” you question, seeing her eyes dart between you and Kiri. “I am teaching them to ride Ilu.” she answered softly, and you looked to Kiri for a moment. “Kiri seems to have mastered that. Do you mind if i teach her something else?” you ask the tsakarem’s permission politely, seeing her nod her head in approval with a smile. You returned it, Ilu leaving Tsireya to approach Kiri.

her attention flew from her sister to you, “would you like to swim more?” you ask, seeing her eyes light as she smiled; nodding. “Yes.”

“wonderful. follow me.” you say, bidding farewell and going off with Kiri.

over the next few weeks, you and Kiri had become unexpectedly close. you were the missing piece in her life that she didn’t know she was missing. Every moment she spent with you, she felt as though the empty, incomplete hole in her chest slowly began to fill. Friendship? or perhaps more? she questioned herself when she saw you, your beautiful smile taking up your face in a way she’d never seen. You had asked to come over to her family cot, offering to show them something very special that your family remains dear to their heart. Kiri obliged, nervous to have you around her family for no apparent reason.

She met with you by the beach you both originally met, walking with you to her home as you held a small, hand crafted basket in your arms. As you approached, your smiled grew. “I am excited to meet your family,” you admitted, a small blush on your cheeks that Kiri convinced herself was her imagination. “why?” she laughed. “Because, they raised you. they must be amazing, not to mention incredibly proud.” your eyes met hers, and kiri’s heart rate picked up in that unfamiliar rhythm that it does when you are near.

your smile only grew upon the sight of her parents- who didn’t know you’d be here. surprised landed on their faces as you walked in with their eldest daughter.

your smile was wide, “Mr and Mrs. Sully,” you greeted, bowing your head respectfully- kiri nervously fidgeting behind you, wondering why she didn’t stop you. “Mom, dad, this is Y/n. she’s..” kiri paused for a moment, looking to your side profile. “my friend.” she finished, her mother and father sharing a glance.

“I wanted to bring you something very special,” you spoke. “I understand that some people in my clan can be very insensitive about what they say and who they say it to,” you sigh, “I want to formally apologize for my immature Brothers actions towards your children.” you pulled out something wrapped, Neytiri listening to yours word’s insightfully. “They were tasked to assist in making you feel comfortable- perhaps even at home in our clan.” You fixed the bow on the present. “They have failed miserably, and no doubt Eywa is shaming them for their embarrassing actions upon you and your family.”

Kiri didn’t know that you came to apologize- her face was red with embarrassment. “I look forward to having the honor of you all staying in Awa'atlu, and i’ve brought something that i hope you enjoy with the other members of your wonderful family.” you slowly approached Neytiri, smiling sincerely as you bow deeply. Her ears were perked from the moment you began to speak, your words were filled with nothing but pure honesty spoken from the heart, respect dripping from your voice and Neytiri decided she liked you than and there. Jake.. wasn’t sure.

“Mìn'trìfì.” Neytiri spoke, and you nodded. “Hayalo oeta. Eywa ngahu.” you bow to both of them once more before smiling to Kiri and taking your exit. Kiri stood absolutely bewildered, shock evident on her face. “She was nice.” Neytiri spoke, unwrapping the squishy square gift you’d placed in her hand, the wrapping falling off reveling 6 pink, soft sweets Neytiri didn’t know the name of. They looked handmade, and she was grateful to your realization of how your clan treated her family, giving her a peaceful homemade gift.

“she didn’t say she was going to apologize. it isn’t even her fault what her brother does.” Kiri frown, Neytiri doing the same. “oh, kiri.”

the next time you saw Kiri, she was sitting on the sand. You excitedly approached her, sitting directly beside her. “Kaltxì!” you greeted, used to saying hello in your birth language. “Why are you alone?” you question, seeing the solemn look on her face. “I.. i do not fit in here.” she confessed, and your heart slowed as you let out a sigh.

“kiri,” you called, her ears twitching at your tone of voice. “you are very silly.” your words made her look at you with confusion. You grinned, taking her hands in yours enthusiastically. “You fit in very well, Paskalin.”

Kiri’s heart skipped a beat at the nickname you’d given her; ‘sweet flower.’

“what do you mean?” she asked you. “I mean..” you thought deeply, thinking if your words were the correct ones to say at this time. “I mean that you fit in anywhere that Eywa has placed her hand.” your words confused the other na’vi. “you are connected to her, Kiri. i do not know if you realize, but Eywa sees you.” your words made kiri’s heart falter, your beautiful, big eyes staring into hers as you placed a hand on her heart. “She is inside you. you both are connected between more than just being her creation. A part of her lives in you.” you whispered, her eyes wide.

Kiri was trying to say things, but every time she’s tried she was cut off by her trying to say something else, and her actions you found cute.

you sat closer, your four fingered hand still on her heart as you felt her pulse race. “I feel as though Eywa has been speaking to me; as though..” you hesitated, smiling shyly. “as though what?” kiri asked.

“as though she crafted us for each other.” you slid your fingers into place with hers- instantly finding a comfortable solace in her presence. Kiri’s heart beat with the rhythm of Eywas breaths, her eyes stared into yours as she agreed with your words. She’s never felt so connected to someone, you were her Pandora.

you saw the look in her eyes, smiling. you pulled out a small piece of jewelry from your side. Kiri’s eyes stare at it, and you placed it in the palm of her hand.

“will you be my muntxa si?” you whispered shyly, voice above a whisper as your ears were high in hopes of her words. she didn’t reply, staring at the beautiful necklace you placed in her hands as she recognized each of the shells on the string as a memory between you both. Her heart skipped a beat as you incorporated both your culture and her own into your courting gift, and her heart yearned for her to say yes- so she spoke as Eywa wanted her to.

“Yes.” she breathed out, smiling. your grin grew impossibly bigger, placing a soft kiss to the side of her cheek. You both thanked Eywa for allowing you both to find each other, to find your missing parts in one another. you will always be in debt to the great mother.

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hairmetal666 · 1 year

Text

Steddie Notes Part 6

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

They’re stuck in the Upside Down.

Nancy. Robin. Eddie. And Steve’s so fucked up from the bats, every breath, ever movement, has him in agony, and he just keeps seeing Eddie here, and it makes it all so much worse. This was never supposed to happen. And how was Steve supposed to keep him safe, keep them all safe, when he could barely stand upright from the pain?

Eddie walks a little way ahead with Nancy, fled after saying, “for your modesty, dude,” and throwing his battle vest at Steve’s face. It leaves Steve with Robin as they navigate the vines and random earthquakes to get to the Wheeler’s house.

“What’s wrong with you?” Robin asks.

Steve narrows his eyes. “You mean other than being dragged across a dry lakebed and eaten by fucked up bats?”

“Is it. Eddie?”

He bites his lips between his teeth. Of course Robin knows. She always does. “I hate that he’s part of this, Robs. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“You think it’s your fault.” It’s not a question.

“How can I not.” His voice catches and he has to clear his throat before he can continue. “You got dragged into this just by being friends with me. And now Eddie? If he wasn’t our friend—if he wasn’t my—he would be safe.”

“Steve. You know that’s not true. Chrissy was cursed already. She would have always died that night. Eddie was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s not your fault.”

He nods, tears pooling along his lash lines. “We kissed,” he croaks out.

“What?” Robin shrieks loud enough to echo across the desolate, cursed landscape.

Eddie and Nancy glance back in time to see Steve knock his shoulder against her arm. “Quiet,” he hisses.

“Sorry,” she frowns. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner! When? How? Are you together now?”

His mouth twists. “No. I think I fucked it up? It was—fuck—when he came over after Chrissy. He was so upset, and I was comforting him, and it just happened. I feel like I took advantage of him.”

“So, you haven’t talked about it?”

He gives her a look again. “When would we have had the time?”

“Okay, okay. But he doesn’t seem mad. I mean, he still gazes at you all lovestruck and ridiculous.”

Heat bursts under the skin of Steve’s cheeks. “He does not,” he mumbles.

“But you do need to talk about it. Obviously. You two have been pinning for years.”

“It’s a year and a half. At most. Not even.”

“Feels like years to me.”

Steve scoffs, falls silent. “I’m scared, Robs. What if he doesn’t like me back? He was too upset when I kissed him, and—I pushed it too far.”

“You did pick a truly terrible time to kiss him, and you two should probably talk about that, but Eddie isn’t going to be upset that you have feelings for him.”

“How do you know? There’s no way you can be sure. I don’t want to risk everything.” “Steve, I—” Robin’s mouth contorts into a complicated series of o’s as she fishes for words. “We’re already risking everything,” she says. “With the Upside Down. With Vecna. When we’re back topside, you should take the time you need to talk to him, okay? I promise that, even if he doesn’t like you like that, he’ll still love you as his closest friend.”

He can’t think of the words to argue with, so he nods, stuffs his hands into the pockets of Eddie’s battle vest. His finger catches on something deep in the right pocket, accompanied by a telltale burst of pain. Steve hisses, retracting his hand, a drop of scarlet beads from a small slash at the tip of his index finger.

“Fuck,” he mutters. He wipes the blood on the vest—it’s already soaked with it, anyway.

“You okay?” Robin asks, her blue eyes sharp at Steve losing more blood.

“Yeah. Munson’s keeping sharp shit in his pockets again, is all.”

He reaches back into the pocket to find the offending weapon and finds a crumpled sheet of paper. An amused breath bursts out of him as he realizes what it must be, and he fishes it out with hesitation.

It’s crinkled and grimy with age, but Steve unfurls it anyway. It’s his own handwriting at the top: “You ever been in love?”

He doesn’t remember writing it, not clearly. There’s a vague recollection of wobbling around, crossfaded in his bedroom, scrawling words on the first acceptable surface he finds. Doesn’t remember giving it to Eddie, but he’s responded; it’s scrawled right there beneath Steve’s question: “No, but I think I’m falling.”

Steve stops in his tracks, staring at the note, eyes darting from the paper to Eddie. A bright pulse of hope sticks in his throat. They’re going to get out of the Upside Down, and when they do, Steve is telling Eddie everything.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

He doesn’t.

Nancy is taken by Vecna and then they fall into planning mode, apparently RV theft mode too (“don’t cha, big boy” is never going to leave his head), and in the panic and fear, there isn’t time.

There’s a little part of him, too, that doesn’t want to say, “I love you,” like it’s a good-bye. He meant it when he told Robin he still has hope, he does, refuses to accept any outcome that isn’t success, that leaves one of their rank dead.

So, he doesn’t talk to Eddie, and they’re in the Upside Down for their last stand and all the words and emotions pile up on his tongue but can’t find flight.

He, Robin, and Nancy turn to go, he’s already kicking himself for his silence, when Eddie’s voice rings out, “Hey, Steve?”

Steve turns fast, almost overbalances, but the meeting of their eyes steadies him. In the rich brown of Eddie’s, Steve thinks he sees all the things he wants to say echoed back. They gaze at each other in silence that thickens every millisecond until Eddie says, “make him pay,” and Steve lifts his chin in acknowledgement. He knows it’s not what Eddie means to say, thinks he understands why he can’t.

There will be plenty of time for their confessions when they get out of this alive. And they will. Steve is sure of it.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

It’s over.

It was hard. Bad. But it’s done. Vecna a smoldering ruin on the Upside Down version of the Creel House lawn.

Steve doesn’t feel triumphant, exactly. They’d almost died, strangled by the vines, briefly outmatched by Vecna. He is relieved, though. Eager to get back to the trailer park, to Eddie and Dustin.

They traverse the Upside Down, silent now and free of earthquakes, closing in on the trailer park in record time.

Up ahead, Steve makes out a hunched shape that must be Dustin in his ghillie suit. He wonders where Eddie is, but he’s not afraid.

He picks up speed to close the distance faster. “Dustin!” he shouts. He means it to sound excited, triumphant, but it’s strangled. His heart’s beating too fast.

Steve is near enough, makes out the dark heap at Dustin’s feet. Someone is chanting a high-pitched, unbroken rhythm of “no, no, no, no, no, nononono,” and it takes him several long moments to realize the sound is coming from his own mouth. He can’t make himself stop.

“Steve,” Dustin sobs. He’s covered in red, leaned over Eddie’s prone form.

There’s so much blood, congealing in dark pools on the grey earth.

“Eddie, Eddie, hey, hey,” Steve falls to his knees, fighting off the panicked keen building in his throat at Eddie’s mostly closed eyes.

“Babylove, honey, sweetheart, please, please look at me, okay?” There are bites on his cheeks that Steve avoids, tapping at Eddie’s cheekbones with shaking fingers.

Eddie’s eyes flutter, try to focus, but drift. “S’vie?” he rasps.

“Hey, hey, It’s me. We’re gonna get you out of here, but you got to stay awake for me, okay?”

“N’ver thought I’d go to heaven,” Eddie mumbles, he fights his eyes from rolling back.

Steve forces a laugh. “What a line, man,” his focus shifts. “Robin, Nancy, we need to stop the bleeding.”

They work in a flurry of motion, Steve talking to Eddie, struggling to keep him alert.

“You gotta stay with me, Eds. Okay? I can’t be without you. You know that, right? You’re everything, Eddie. Everything.”

Eddie smiles with teeth full of blood. “Whatever you say, angel,” he whispers. His eyes slide shut.

Steve swallows his scream, hefts Eddie into his arms, and runs.

(Part 7)

This is a rough one, please feel free to shout at me about it. Thank you so much for reading! One more part to go; and don't worry, nobody dies and there's a happy ending.

I can't add anymore tags, but I appreciate each and every one of you for coming on the steddie notes journey with me! 💜💜💜

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 3 months

Note

I would love a "Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot" in the POV of Hiccup again. The way you write from his perspective is great to read, especially with him fumbling (literally and figuratively) around our reader.

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 16

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 2,107

Hiccup talks to his dad and does some illegal town-ly maintenance. Stoick finally asks Hiccup to stop following you but he’s unfortunately a little late on the draw.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, Hiccup’s POV, unedited

Hiccup stared out a crack in the door, pulling on the corner of his coat.

There was a short crunch from off to the side as he wondered what had brought you up the hill.

He could try the colored tailfins again. That was sure to catch your attention.

Hiccup had spent his afternoon hiding around corners shiftily, carrying seeds he’d just picked up from the docks and secreted away in his coat, sneaking back to his home.

Someone had been hoarding them, and it took him a pretty penny to get his hands on.

He’d never saved anything ever and he worked at the forge scott free so it was more like something he’d have to pay in favors. Hopefully it was worth it.

He saw you walking down the hill from his house to the village and peered down at your retreating back as you became a speck, standing up on his toes in order to try and get a better look as the angle of his house on the hill became more and more of an issue.

He made a mental note to ask his Dad about why you were up there later.

He heard another crunch from the side.

Hiccup wasted barely a moment to shoot Toothless a look of betrayal, half marred by betrayal at his nonchalance as the Night Fury chewed on kindling and tracked it all over the house.

Said dragon’s head was low to the ground as he brunched through solid charcoal, paws awkwardly gripping the nearly horizontal end of the log.

His Dad was definitely not going to like that.

He promised himself that he was going to throw an eel into the fireplace when he had an eel. Hiccup made a note to jot that down for later.

His stupid dragon could be bought out by fish pretty easy on a normal day, but never when it came to his kindling.

He’d clean it up later.

He spent a moment longer looking outside at sunny fields and almost didn’t notice the heavy beating of footsteps behind him and the shutting of the backdoor.

“Hiccup.”

He startled, turned and smiled awkwardly, face and shoulders stiff as he turned around, feeling and probably looking like a plank of wood.

Knowing he was there didn’t ever make it any easier.

He was met face to chest with his Dad, who he had to crane his head to look up at, looming above him.

His Dad talked to him to confirm if he was coming home that night for family dinner instead of going to the hall, something which no one else did. Hiccup wasn’t even sure if that was a privilege only they got or something.

Family dinners were definitely a new thing and Hiccup wasn’t sure how he felt about them, especially when most were spent chewing in silence.

He wasn’t sure if they could really be called family considering they were missing a very important member.

He had also, coincidentally, been avoiding his Dad.

Especially when he breached the subject of girls. But Hiccup wasn’t sure his Dad knew which girl Hiccup liked. He was able to shoot off a quick excuse and run for it, usually. He was very good at that.

But really, who had he been talking to? Gobber?

His father cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing towards the door and back at his son, “So, you like-”

Definitely Gobber.

“Nope, no,” Hiccup said in a tone he hoped was dry, shoulders stiff as he stared at the wall out of the corner of his eye, ignoring the slightly cold sweat that was beginning to gather at the back of his neck, “Can we talk about something else?”

Stoick gave him a look, “Don’t be following her around, you hear?”

“Huh?” Hiccup asked, voice cracking awkwardly.

Hiccup shoveled a palmful of dirt over a small lump in the ground with his hands, knees digging into the overturned dirt below, feeling pleased with himself.

He sat back on the ground, pulling his legs out from under him to sit in something resembling a loose leg cross.

He dropped his hands into the dirt, not minding the grit as it dug under his nails.

He stared at the good sized pouch by his side, mostly empty.

Getting ahold of the seeds was difficult considering you were the one and only delivery girl on Berk.

The package was a sort weighty, though nothing anywhere near unmanageable.

He wondered if it would be appropriate to get you a satchel or something. He could make it out of some of the leather he had left lying around the forge. He could pull out some tools, too, and print a few knots around the border of the hypothetical top flap.

The beads dotted around the twine encircling his wrists and lining the draws of his tunic shifted, making a sort of barely noticeable crumpling noise as he moved.

You gave him a lot of those. Did that count as you liking him back?

Hiccup groaned, leaning back on his hands and blinking into the sky, then closing his eyes.

He’d never been the type to wear jewelry -he’s always imagined that to be Snotlout’s thing, he always eyed that one guy down by the docks with the nose ox ring- but you gave them to him.

He, against all odds, liked them a lot.

He wasn’t a planter, either. He hated it, actually. But… You said it. Girls liked flowers. Girls where you came from liked flowers. Girls here liked flowers, maybe. Hiccup never asked.

How long did it take roses to grow, anyways?

Hiccup shifted slightly, staring at one end of a scaled wall, debating whether or not it was a good time for him to bolt away from the flowerbed he was crouched on, despite the permission he’d gotten to be there.

Certain types of dragon dung made plants grow faster. He picked that up from some of the grain harvesters down by the fields, overheard it while he was messing around when he was younger, definitely illicit and something that they didn’t want getting back to his Dad then and something that, recently, Fishlegs was amicable enough to confirm.

Hiccup made an expression he hoped conveyed his appropriately sectioned disgruntlement.

He poured some into the large dragon feed bins. When the dragons dropped dung from the sky, they’d also be dropping rose seeds. They didn’t pass through dragons like they did other animals. Hopefully no one noticed.

Maybe he could find an import somewhere for a full bush. But he didn’t have anything to trade.

He didn’t even know if there were full rose bushes in the Archipelago.

Once they sprouted, convincing the other Vikings to take care of the rose bushes was going to be difficult, if the sprouts didn’t get trampled first.

He could pass it off as some public service effort, but really he was just doing it to try and woo you. The public service thing would definitely please his Dad, though.

Oh, gods. Hiccup was hit with immediate regret.

The dragons were definitely going to burn the rose bushes and he would have spent a handful of coins for nothing.

Could he paint the roses? He still had paint left from the other day. It made great fireproofing. He thought about making a mask, or something. That would be cool.

How much water did roses need, anyways?

He had no idea how he was going to convince his Dad that pipes were worth the resources it’d take to make and maintain them.

He imagined talking about it over the dinner table. Definitely not.

“What are you doing?” Came the deep-ish squeaks of a voice, probably a mirage, called to him like a fairy or a fae or a troll or something evil because he thought it. He ignored the thick shadow that overcame him.

“I can help!” The voice of Fishlegs squeaked again.

Hiccup glanced to the side, where indeed Fishlegs was looming over him, “Unless you like growing things, you can’t help me”

“I like gardening,” Fishlegs insisted, “And I’d… I’d like some flowers for R-my mother!”

“Roses?” Hiccup asked, leaning on his knees.

“Oh-oh!” Fishlegs said, “If you need help, if you’re trying to- you know, for her- she and my mother-”

He scowled again, feeling sort of grumpy and a little bit sad.

Hiccup definitely didn’t have a mother for you to learn with. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to take advice from the lord of suck. Again. Even if it was good advice.

“R-Right, well, nevermind about that,” Fishlegs continued, though Hiccup didn’t pay as much attention to why, “You need help growing roses?”

“No,“ Hiccup urged, miming to Gobber, arms waving from where he stood, alarm rocketing up his spine, secreted away in the shadows of an alley with Toothless.

Said Gobber was too busy peering around Hiccup’s father’s side to pay him any mind, roughly pushing his Dad’s tough, metal plated shoulder, urging him forwards.

Hiccup pulled his prosthetic out of the slightly sunken ground, where it had dipped in after he had tried to go around patting down damp upturned dirt with his boot, a leftover from the other day he’d spent planting seeds around Berk with Fishlegs.

Toothless, being Toothless, snorted, nodding to both Gobber and Hiccup’s father, blending slightly in with the shade in which both he and Hiccup hid.

Hiccup glared at him.

Toothless dropped his eyelids and stared blankly back as if asking Hiccup what he expected.

“I know, Bud. You don’t need to say it,” He grumbled.

How a dragon could be so expressive was lost on him.

There was obviously not much Hiccup could do to rebuke him, a few tons heavier and a lot more fiery in the throat than Hiccup himself in a very literal way, but he was sure he was going to kick the Night Fury off his bed the next time he tried to crawl in.

Hiccup liked it better when he was sleeping on his own anyways. Unless, of course-

Toothless smack him on the back of his head with his tail.

“Ow,” Hiccup rubbed his head, grumbling at his dragon.

Toothless slept on the foot of his bed some weekends which was a pain in the leg. Time two when, on special occasions only, he tried to set it on fire in his sleep.

You were standing in the sunlight, booted toes digging into the dirt, looking quite confused with a pile of possibly clean laundry in your arms, draped over both and occupying the grip of one hand, a coat with the Thorston crest thrown over your shoulders.

Stoick looked back at you with a blank expression, his large beard twitching. His helmet seemed to cover half his face as he stared blankly forwards.

He looked sort of exhausted by the situation as you stared back, with another thin package in your other, free hand.

Hiccup couldn’t believe it.

Gobber tried to nudge his father forward again with his hammer arm, which didn’t do much. Even jumping into Stoick with his shoulder didn’t do anything and Stoick didn’t move an inch until he chose to move his feet, looking back at Gobber tiredly.

“What is your relationship with my son?”

“Huh?” You asked. He heard your voice vaguely from where he stood, not particularly hidden around the bend of a large house frame.

You seemed very focused on his Dad, though. Anyone would be in the situation. At least, that’s what Hiccup thought.

Everything in him burned with embarrassment. A little bit of him was very irritated with his Dad, sort of annoyed, too.

Who tipped him off, anyways?

“How…” Hiccup’s Dad looked down at the card, comically small compared to his large hands, “Do you handle responsibility?”

Gobber threw his hands up in the back, waving them around like very thick sausages, freezing only when, finally, he caught Hiccup’s eye, frozen like a Terror on top of a fish barrel.

“Do you have any parents who would be open to discussion about-” Stoick asked gruffly, looking very unimpressed as Gobber walked up and tried to smack him on the back of his head, gesturing towards where Hiccup was hidden in an alley, trying to turn his attention away from you and only him.

Tried, being the key word.

Hiccup choked back a yelp as he half scrambled half backed very dignifiedly further back into the alley, swearing to the Gods Almighty that- Well, that- He couldn’t do much on his Dad’s front but he was definitely never talking to Gobber again.

#httyd #how to train your dragon #x reader #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #httyd imagine #toothless #fem reader #female reader

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