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velvetures · 10 months

Note

Hi baby!! I like your writing sm it's amazing 💓💓 If RQs are open I would like to request König stealing from readers dirty panties to use when he's self pleasuring~ she finds out and confronts him and one thing leads to another and next thing you know he's got her thighs locked on the side of his head while she rides his face so he can finally taste what he's been wanting for weeks. Thank you so much I know you'll do great with this req

Do Me?... A Favor

A/N: God, I love this! I had such a great time writing this and might've needed a lil' break halfway through. This trope has a special place in my heart. (I'm mentally unwell) So I hope you enjoy! Forgive me for being so late on this. Summary: König steals your panties and does dirty things with them. You catch him, and... well... you and I both know exactly what happens after that. T/W: !!NS/FW 18+ ONLY!!!, thievery of panties, male masturbation, fem-reader, dirty talk, fantasy mentions, face riding, exhibitionism if you have 20/20 vision, fem-recieving oral, spanking?, prob missed something... I don't proofread, ya'll better know this by now.

GIF and Story Below Cut

Extended missions with KORTAC usually meant that König would be within touching distance of you for days on end. Hearing you talk with his squad and watching you make jokes that got almost every single one of the stone-cold men melting with affection for you. There wasn’t a single one of them that didn’t absolutely adore you; Jump at the chance to help you, offer to take watches, ask to be paired with you, or just try and be the lucky one that got to either sleep with you or next to you. As Colonel, König always had his hands full maintaining order when the girl from the United States sector was sent to help them out.

On a personal level though, König struggled to hide the desperation and pathetically overwhelming feelings of jealousy he had when seeing anyone get that close to you. Having known you the longest, spent the most time alone with you, trusted you with his own mind and vice-versa, the Colonel -problematically- believed he had a bit more of a right to you than any of this men. Perhaps your own behavior towards him didn’t help out much either. So little and gutsy, you always liked teasing him. Tempting him to wrestle and always so confident you’ll win, and toying with his mask; begging so innocently to see the “handsome face” under there.

You’d been like that with him for so long, he couldn’t tell the difference between close friendship and flirting anymore. Blurring lines and also his own ability to control the compulsions to get just a little bit more of you. In any sick or twisted way he might be able to get his hands on. No man could resist your charms and beautiful little face. Especially König, who melted from a towering 6’10 to a weak and desperate boy crawling after you like a lost puppy.

He wasn’t proud of it. Then again, he didn’t care all that much. Especially when he found a way to satisfy his more carnal and disgusting desires for you that couldn’t even be tortured out of him.

In his defense, you’d been the one who started it. Calling out his name when you were in the small bathroom of the safe house and asking him to grab some clothes out of your rucksack, having forgotten to get them yourself. Half dazed knowing you were naked with just a thin, open, door between you had the Colonel making a beeline for your bag and ripping it open to do exactly what you’d asked of him.

Now… if any of his men would’ve asked him if he had a thing for panties, he would’ve very sternly disagreed with the whole idea.

But when he laid eyes on your panties, balled up and stuffed in a little side pocket in white, black, pink, and some cute patterns, the darker side of his mind slipped. Throwing him into an entirely different kind of temptation that he’d never entertained before. He’d hardly been able to deliver your clean clothes to you without incident, and spent the rest of the evening with his brain consumed with fantasies of what you looked like in all those pretty things. Surely your ass looked downright sinful with that material stretching over it and cradling your body closer than he’d ever have the opportunity to. Fuck… even your thighs would be that much more brilliant with the crease made that much more obvious by the hemline of the panties. The images kept flowing long into the night after he should’ve been asleep, his own watch hour ticking closer with each minute.

Struggling with the urge to palm his hard cock and just try to ease some of the pressure. Begging for some type of solution to his weakening self-control. König was up and headed to the bathroom, ready to take care of his painfully throbbing erection before he could even stop to think about how wrong it was to jerk himself off less than fifteen feet away from you and his men. The moment he unzipped his jeans and freed his drooling cock, his mask was shoved up so he could spit in his hand, and stuck his mask between his teeth to try and muffle his own sounds of pleasure.

Thoughts of what you’d look like gasping for breath on top of him, impaling your little body on his cock, spurred König to smear his own spit over his length. Fisting the head and rotating his palm around the tip with a deep rumble in his chest. He wished he could’ve seen you in the shower… soft skin wet and dripping with lathered soap. Rubbing those tiny hands over your body and rinsing away the sweat he’d seen soaking your shirt and running down your neck earlier during your rotation. His hazy vision cut to the shower, looking at it with a mental picture of you taking use of the handheld shower head. Putting it between your plush thighs and watching your tremor.

Only some small and purple sitting in the corner of the floor next to the bathtub froze his movements. Every muscle tensed at the sight of it, and while precum drooled from his swollen head, the Colonel couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The massive man didn’t even need to get off his seat on the toilet to pick up the delicate scrap of material and dangle it in front of his face. Taking into account his interaction with you, he couldn’t believe that your dirty underwear had fallen out of the balled up clothes you’d worn all day.

König’s cock twitched at the disturbed idea of smelling them. His body goading his mind to forgo the moral line of doing such a thing, and just do it. You wouldn’t know… his men would never find out… As long as he put them back in your rucksack before morning, there’d be no reason for anyone to question it. Besides, he was so turned on. And it wasn’t hurting anyone for him to just use a piece of your clothes to help let off some steam…

König ripped his mask off his head and let it drop to the floor next to his boot, and hesitantly lifted your panties up to barely touch he tip of his nose. The silky fabric was so damn feminine… so much like you in many ways. He rubbed them between his fingers, slowly moving his other hand up and down his cock; Nearly teasing himself with the full experience. Denying the satisfaction of experiencing your scent intimately. The otherwise self-composed Colonel couldn’t wait another moment, and buried his nose into your dirty panties with a lustful growl muffled by his hand.

His balls tightened with pure excitement, spitting more clear fluid down his shaft and filling the small bathroom with vulgar sucking sounds of his fingers sliding up and down with more desperation. Your scent was nothing short of a sweet and salty pheromone jolt of a daydream that made his brain go to nothing but static and arcs of electricity. His dick throbbed as his second inhale came as a much deeper and purposeful acceptance of this new and still very taboo action.

“F-fuucckk…” König had to whimper into your panties, his hips twitching up into his own fist.

“S-so fucking good…” Even with the very real risk of someone hearing him moaning, König continued whispering and whining his praise and pleads for you into the crotch of your panties. Going so far as to lose his willpower and reach out his tongue to feel the soft fabric and give his tastebuds one, lingering, taste of your sweet cunt. The tangy and candy-sweet remainder lingering in the threads of your panties utterly ripped König’s orgasm out of him.

His toes curling in his boots, his stomach flexing and his one fist tightening around the base of his shaft as thick and pearly release dripped hotly over veins and the between his balls before dripping in quiet drops onto the floor. The Colonel sat for full minutes, working over himself slowly and hiding his panting breath against your used underwear. He felt so goddamn monstrous for using you like this. Going behind your back and cumming over his fist like an animal in rut. Denying just how good of a release he had wasn’t possible either though. Not only had his most recent solo attempts been miserably unsatisfying, but his most horrific thought after cleaning up his evidence was that he wanted nothing more than to pocket your panties and keep them.

The Colonel blamed his own rotation on watch as the reason behind why he pocketed your panties instead of putting them back in your rucksack.

Two days later, you were still quietly in search of your panties that had apparently disappeared into thin air. You’d turned your bag inside out, went through the bathroom at least five times, and checked every other room of the safe house thinking someone might’ve found them and just tossed them somewhere they believed you’d see them. Searching came up with zero sign of your panties, and you felt like you were going insane. Not that it really mattered if they were gone… You had packed plenty of spares in the case you -for some reason- needed two back-ups for every day you were gone and couldn’t buy more. It was more so just the simple fact that you’d been so unobservant to misplace a pair of bright, purple, fucking panties.

Being surrounded by nothing but men only added to your silent mortification.

“You alright Sergeant?” One of the KORTAC guys paired on your rotation nudged your shoulder with his elbow, drawing your attention back to the -quite serious- task at hand.

“You look a little distracted, everything okay?” The look on his face made you think he was concerned that the cold weather was getting to you.

You shook your head. “M’fine. Just lost something, and I can’t fucking find it anywhere.”

He chuckled, adjusting his rifle against his chest. “Something important?”

“No. Not at all,” You sighed, seeing your breath fog up in front of your view of the forest and the heavy snowfall. “Just can’t figure out where it went and I’ve turned the whole house over.”

The Lieutenant at your side looked back towards the edge of the perimeter and then back to you with a little shrug. “Well, i suppose you could go in early. Get warm and have another look around. You’ve already had more shifts than plenty of the other guys.” He patted you on the back and jerked his head back in the direction of the safe house and outlying buildings.

You couldn’t help but grin under your face mask, eyes squinting to show your appreciation and giving him a quick ‘thanks’ before jogging back through the snow. You passed a few of the other guys out on rounds and either waved or called out a short word or two so as to let them know you’d come in for a few hours. Typically König was the one who dictated the different schedules to ensure no one got left out in the snow too long. Kicking off the frozen slush and snow off your boots, you waddled yourself inside and set out to get warmed up and find the Colonel.

Maybe he’s seen my underwear… You muse a bit mortified, unclipping your heavy overalls and yanking your tac vest over your head. God, it was a thought that made you shiver not just from the cold nipping at the wet cuffs of your winter layers and damp socks.

It wasn’t very secret that you had a very soft spot for König. He was just so damn sweet to you, and might’ve always given you a little bit of preferential treatment when you got sent to KORTAC on collaborating missions. Whether he did it because of his belief that you were a woman -and much smaller- than any of his men, or maybe for a more personal motive, you didn’t know. Really having the courage to bring up the topic was extremely intimidating. Joking around and teasing the massively tall and handsome solider was one thing. Asking him to lay out how he truly felt about you as more than an occasional partner was very different.

By the time you’d changed into some dry and comfortable clothes to hang out in for the rest of the evening, you noticed that the few guys lingering in the living room had left out. Leaving you alone, with the entire couch to yourself and a quiet house that gave leeway for a really good nap right in front of the wood-burning stove blaring heat right at you. Thank god for the KORTAC guys being so nice to you, and making sure that you didn’t have a hell-on-earth experience for your first winter in Russia.

You’d not really even gotten settled on the couch when you heard a somewhat loud thump from down on the other end of the house. Nearly like a head or hand smacking against the wall in one of the little rooms -made bedrooms- once you’d all arrived a little over a week ago. It didn’t happen again, and trying to just ignore whatever fools the guys could be making out of themselves outside to make that sort of noise, you just went ahead and closed your eyes again.

Thump.

Your eyes snapped open and stared at the ceiling, tuning your ears to the sounds emanating from the far end of the house. You waited patiently, and a third heavy and thud met your ears. Immediately you were up and on your feet, standing in the entry to the hallway leading that way, seeing that only one door was halfway shut, and it was König’s room at the very end. Eyebrows furrowed and hands resting on your hips, you stared at the door waiting for some kind of sign as to what exactly was happening. Surely one of the others weren’t setting up some kind of prank for the Colonel to come back to… right?

Oh god… he’d be soo mad. We’d all get ripped new asses if that happened.

And it wouldn’t have been the first time you’d faced König’s wrath for nothing more than someone thinking a harmless prank was acceptable. Even if the Colonel was extremely lenient on you, he wasn’t to be toyed with. He was a hard and cold man when it was called of him, and you really didn’t want to risk being thrown back out in the snow within the next twelve hours. What had your feet moving was another small and muffled sound, almost like a clipped and high-pitched sort of thing. It didn’t settle right, and you’d got to the door and pushed it open just a few more inches to tell whoever was in the Colonel’s room to get the fuck out.

You were the one struck speechless.

Through the small gap in the door and frame, you saw none other than König laying on the too-small cot with his shoulders propped up against the wall, mask rucked up over the bottom half of his face, and a distinct, purple, material pressed against his mouth and nose. The sensation of your heart and stomach jumping into your throat nearly choked you of oxygen. You could hardly drag your eyes away from his massive hand teasing his thick and hard cock. Once again, that thud reverberated through the room and it was nothing more than the erotic sight of him throwing his head back against the drywall with an -almost- silenced moan.

“Jesus Christ…” The whispered words fell from your awestruck mouth before you could stop yourself. Breathless, but damn sure loud enough for the Colonel to hear you and his dark eye to snap right to where you’d been peeking through the doorway. His whole body stiffened, and his hand stopped. Even dropping your dirty panties right into his lap. The purple fabric fluttering down to rest at the base of him.

“Shit!” You gasped, turning right around and hiding your face in your hands.

You could hear fabric shuffling and enough of a panicked movement to realize König planned on at least talking to you. Somehow having the sheer guts to not immediately act like nothing had ever happened. You heart thumped right at the back of your throat for what felt like and eternity before you heard the door behind your creak open and the distinct pattern of labored breathing. You jumped when his massive hand rested on your shoulder, nudging you to turn around.

“W-we… need to talk,” He mutters downright guilty. “About, what you just - just saw.” Swallowing the massive wave of conflicting feelings welling up in your mind, stomach, and in your pussy, you nod your head and wait until your hear König walk back into the bedroom before turning around and walking through the door to face him.

Right away your eyes fall down to his belt and take note of the -very large and still very hard- outline of his erection straining against his belt and the zipper of his jeans. Your face flushed bright red, realizing he’d pinned his cock beneath the leather strap around his waist to keep it as under control as possible. Before you could draw your eyes away, one of his hands falls down to shield his arousal, and you hear him clear his throat nervously. It draws your attention back up to his re-masked face. Noticing his eye darting anywhere but your eyes and the rise and fall of his wide shoulders. Comparing reactions, it seems that the Colonel is far more effected than you are.

Maybe you weren’t as… upset as you should be.

“I must apologize for my… disturbing behavior,” He blurts out with a raspy tone, visually shrinking a bit. “I… can’t begin to…” Trailing off, you watch him rub at the back of his neck, in thought and obviously tense.

“I just couldn’t help but - you’re just so…”

Eyebrows furrowed and your interest piqued, you take a step closer; Seeing your used panties tucked under his pillow and a small little glimpse of purple peeking out. Screams in the back of your mind make the very dangerous assumption that he’s still somewhat possessive over the item. It makes the growing wetness in your panties more significant, forcing your to flex your thighs together.

“I’m so, what?” You press softly, your head tilting up at him with the shortening gap between you.

The Colonel audibly swallows, “So… pretty.” You’ve never heard such a whimpering and weak sound from him. Almost like it’s a desperate thought he couldn’t help but admit to you. It stokes a fire inside your belly, and you’re very quick to push just a little more.

“So you stole dirty panties?” A low, gravelly whine escapes from under his mask as shakes his head.

“They were on the floor… And I was so frustrated, I didn’t mean for you find out. I just - just needed to know…” His voice stiffens, but he’s still struggling to defend his actions, and not totally own up to the fact that you’d caught him using your scent to get himself off.

“How many times have you used them, Colonel?” Your voice lowers a little, pussy clenching in anticipation of his answer; Fluttering wet walls that silently beg for more stimulation than the pressure your thighs can provide.

König squirms where he stands, sighing heavily. “Six. Six times… Fuck, I’m so sorry.” His head drops in guilt that actually squeezes your chest with sympathy. He’d always held the biggest piece of your heart, and seeing him so hard on himself for being -not only human- but having been no more desiring for you than you’d been for him… you just couldn’t stand letting him do this anymore.

“Well that just won’t do, will it?” You’re pulling your sweatshirt over your head and dropping it on the floor before König can look up and register what you’re doing. Halfway through pushing your pants down your thighs, you hear a sharp gasp and a little grunt of a sound.

“What are you doing?” His voice has flattened, and you peek up to see his wide eyes roaming all over your exposed skin. You just smile, standing there in a soft bralette and some panties and shrug like this wasn’t making your knees quake under your weight.

“I’m gonna give you fresh pair.” You lick your lips nervously, slipping your fingers under the waistband and begin to tug them down.

“Wait!” He almost shouts, taking a couple steps closer to you and grabbing your wrists to keep you from moving. “F-fuck… just, hold on a second.” He’s panting heavily, staring at you with dilated eyes.

For a long moment, you just stand there feeling his hot skin burning against your own. Silently staring at each other like trying to read the other’s thoughts without attempting to just do it the easy way and ask. You can smell the mint of his toothpaste and that all-too-comforting scent of sandalwood lingering on his body from some kind of cologne or deodorant you’d never quite seen him apply. You’re about to ask him a question when you feel his fingers trailing down your inner wrists towards your hips, and finally resting on the waistband of your panties. Heavy hands being much more gentle than you’d ever experienced, raising chills on your massive expanse of bared skin.

“Can I…?”

His eyes dart between his hands and your eyes with such an innocent look that you’re nodding your head before you actually think it through. Implicit trust had always made you and the Colonel a good pair on the field. Never pausing to think there might be a day like today were you’d test just how good things cold be in the bedroom. He’s down on one knee and nearly eye-level with you, fingers rubbing the fabric withholding the ultimate of your intimate regions… His face so close that it’s brushing against you stomach. Steadying yourself, you grab ahold of his shoulder; Needing some kind of grounding since you can’t really feel your bare feet on the freezing cold floor.

Squeezing the meat of your hips, the Colonel hisses.

“Always thought you were the tiniest thing… Wanted to know how someone so small could be so deadly,” His teasing evolved into slowly pulling at your underwear. Dragging them over the swell of your ass and leaving them there for a moment.

“Lucky me, knowing better than anyone how you can kill a man so slowly.”

He’s slow but purposeful in pulling your panties down your legs, his head following them instead of taking the first look at your bared skin. Reverently, he picks up your bare feet one-by-one and helps you out of the material, immediately rubbing the fabric between his long fingers. Your stomach drops when you realize that he’s purposefully feeling the crotch. Giving away the sheer arousal you’d collected there in mere minutes. It should’ve bothered you, made embarrassment floor your system. Only it just proved to make your legs feel weak under you. Almost visually shaking when the Colonel slid your panties under the hem of his hood.

“Want to tase what I do to you,” He murmured, giving you the exact answer of how pressed you were to find out what was happening under that bleached t-shirt of a shield.

“Need you to watch me…” Your cunt clenched hearing him sound so broken.

Nodding dumbly, your gaze never left König’s eyes. Seeing his heavy lids close, just to open back up drunkenly with a low groan that nearly penetrated your very bones. Wet sucking sounds emanating from under the mask, his tongue lapping at your soaked gusset and leaving no question as to just how fucking hungry he was for it. Spit-covered cotton sucked dry by one of the most powerful and intimidating men on the face of the planet; Down on a knee in front of you and literally lost to your taste. Lips parted and awestruck, you tried to force some words out.

“You look so hot like that, sir.” Breathless, it’s clear just how much it’s effecting you too.

Using his title has his eyes snapping up to you. Dark and dilated pupils, wide shoulders rising and falling quickly, and one hand still circled around your ankle to prevent your -impossible- escape from him. The Colonel is off his knee and has you lifted off the ground with only one arm before you can blink. Spinning you around and dropping you down on his cot; His massive body looming over yours. Downright terrifying save for the sight of your pink underwear hanging limply in his fist. That intimidating shadow of his erection -somehow- bigger than before, twitches against his belt. You’re driving him wild sitting so innocently with your thighs clenched together on his bed. Looking like you hadn’t the slightest idea just how badly he wanted to utterly destroy you right there and now.

“Sergeant?” Maintaining his composure takes every last fiber of concentration. Seeing your head tilt to the side in silent question and anticipation nearly doubles the weight of his balls.

“You must be so needy. Waiting so patiently for someone to give you satisfaction,” He steps closer, hips less than a foot away from you. Tempting your baser instincts to lean forward and swipe your tongue over a wet spot resting just over the tip of his cock.

“Your sweet cunt tastes like she’s been neglected… Have you been neglected Sergeant?” Almost mocking, you can’t begin to challenge him. Right away your nodding your head, flexing your thighs and crossing your ankles to attempt some small relief of pressure.

“König - I -” You’re fumbling for the right words when he chuckles lowly, bending just far enough to place his palms on across your thighs and squeeze just a little.

Meeting your forehead with his own, you’re right back to where you always felt with him. Safe and like he somehow understood everything about you without ever asking. Unique to König, he could always tell when something was wrong or you just weren’t quite on your game for some reason or another. You always thought it’s what made you such a good pair. And if you had to admit it, you’d have thought you knew just about everything about him too; But now after this, there’s a question lingering if all of his sweetness was just out of friendship, or something much more significant swirling around behind that shroud of a mask. Either way, you wanted to find out more. Get closer and explore the Colonel in a way you’d never believed possible.

“If you want this… me,” Just above a mere whisper, he paused to look between the small gap withholding you from him. “I need you to say so, meine perle.” Hearing your longstanding pet name in this connotation felt so very different, yet so much more impactful than on just your feeling of standard closeness. Giving you the suspicion that König hadn’t just thought it was a simple throwaway nickname.

“Please, please. I want you.” Your answer feels confident. Specifically choosing to ask for him, and him alone.

König met your lips with heavy intention. Cradling your neck with one hand and leaning your weight back against the bed; All the while crawling overtop of you. You could barely taste your own tangy arousal on his tongue, fighting for the chance to take the other fully. While König did try to resist your little bites at his bottom lip and your fingers prying at his shirt, it didn’t take long for him to finally happily give up. Rolling onto his back and pulling you to straddle him. Helping you along with the subtle movement of your bare cunt against his clothed cock and the ridges of his zipper.

“Mm,” He pulled away from you far too soon, admiring you sitting atop him so delicately. Pink cheeks, kiss-swollen lips, and a look in your eyes that made his whole body truly feel desired ****************and appreciated. Maybe even loved.

“Come here, meine perle. Let me give you everything you want.” Pulling your head down to meet his lips one last time, you sighed.

Sinking against him with so many fuzzy feelings of happiness and surreal recognitions of just how crazy this was. Of how one single change of your day had brought you to König’s room.

“Süßes Mädchen, ich will dich probieren..” It was the last coherent thing you could remember König saying as he effortlessly pulled your bare cunt closer to his face with an utterly wrecked look on his face and his tongue licking at his lips.

Hip flexors and thighs quivering, you could hardly keep your eyes focused on the Austrian below you. With your legs spread and framing his head and his hot palms cradling the entirely of your ass to keep you from squirming too much, König had spent the better part of half and hour with his tongue buried in your cunt. Snarling and growling like a hungry dog who’s chain had finally snapped. Between your almost totally fried nerves and the nudge of his thick nose rubbing against your clit while tongue-fucking your hole, you’d nearly pleaded and moaned yourself mute with a sore throat. ail scratches had been scraped into the drywall in front of you, and the strength in your legs had long faded into boneless mush that König hardly needed the endurance to hold steadily. The Colonel had been nothing but painfully patient and determined to give your more orgasms than your body could withstand.

You’d been ordered to count them, and it’d never been more challenging to count to four.

“Bitte meine Perle, komm, fick mein gesicht.” You never wanted to follow an order so badly. But fuck if you came again, you weren’t sure you’d ever resurface from the sensation. The previous had almost left you sitting full-weight on his face and blacked out in overwhelming pleasure. Mentally preparing wasn’t an option though. König wasn’t stopping for anything. Including your weak whimpers and whines that protested the command despite your desire to listen to him as closely as possible.

“C-can’t do it again-” Your voice cracks pathetically.

A loud crack of his palm smacking against the flesh of your ass releases a guttural moan from you. Spanking you firmly for the denial, and nipping at your swollen and abused little clit in punishment. You whine again, knowing your choice in the matter is being denied. König’s hunger for your release dripping out from the corners of his mouth motivates him to wrap his lips around your swollen bud and suck. Using the tip of his tongue to flick against the painfully sensitive end. That movement had brought you to release the first time, and it worked just as efficiently again to rip your pleasure out of your body right into the Colonel’s waiting mouth.

Your shaking and tears being to roll over your cheeks as König uses his own strength to help ride you through the aftershocks that cause your thighs to tremor and your stomach to flex and waver. The only somewhat meaningful things you’re able to do is use one hand to run your fingers through his hair and try to keep yourself grounded to the cot and König. By the time you feel sensation in your toes again, König has already gotten you settled back in his lap with his massive arms snaked around your bare body, holing you tight against his chest.

You feel slickness not just of your own between your thighs, looking up at the Colonel with a question tugging at your eyebrows. There was no mistaking that König had finished some time through your turn and he’d either been really good at hiding it, or you’d been totally inconsiderate of noticing.

“Schön, meine Perle. Das hast du so gut gemacht,” His wet lips press to your forehead reassuringly.

“Did perfectly, so good at following orders.” His hands cradle your flushed cheeks carefully.

Thumbs brushing over your cheekbones and sliding up until he can wipe the sheen of sweat clinging in the hair of your eyebrows. You look downright angelic to him like this. Raptured by nothing more than his own desire to give you everything he possibly could of his physical and emotional being. Giving himself the most intimate position to see just what he’d fantasized about for so long. You, being loved by him. Adored just for being yourself. Pleasured, because you deserved it.

“König… didn’t you..?” Your little pants and confused look made him smile, leaning forward to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

He chuckled lowly against your mouth. “I did. Twice, actually.” He pecked the tip of your nose like a little praise for you.

You weren’t in any shape to fuss with the Austrian, however you did your best to put up a fight. “Let me… I wanna give you-”

“I’ve had just enough to satiate me for now,” His voice rasped a bit. “Besides, my men will be coming in for shift changes. And I don’t have enough faith in either of us to stay that quiet, meine perle.”

It was your turn to go shy and quiet, looking towards the shut -and locked- bedroom door, but forgetting that you weren’t the only two people in the area. Actually, thee was a good chance many of the men could’ve heard you making little to no effort to quiet yourself. One glance at the Colonel still holding you close to him, and you must’ve given him some sort of expression because he started laughing softly again.

“Kein Problem. Meine Männer reden nicht über uns.” You believed him.

But it was still a little intimidating. Now that it seemed everything was out it in the open, you had a lot of questions about what was going to happen, how things would work between you, or if there was even a possibility of somethingserious. The observant Colonel didn’t miss a single beat of your heart in that moment.

“Das bedeutet nicht, dass ich ihnen keinen Gesprächsstoff gebe, meine Perle,” His head nudged yours sweetly, despite his very flirty tone. “I’d like to keep you to myself. That is… if you’re okay with that?”

Nothing could stop the grin that spread onto your face.

“Ich liebe es, dein zu sein, mein König,” You wrapped you arms around his neck, kissing his ear softly. “Auch wenn du mein Höschen stiehlst.”

Reblogs & Comments are Appreciated

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wileys-russo · 7 months

Note

That pic of mary and the baby hello…..i know you have written similar stuff before for her but could you do a blurb where the reader and mary have a baby together? maybe reader brings them to a match, once it’s over mary comes over to see them and takes the baby who instantly buries their head in her chest and all mary’s teammates notice and rush over to come see their favourite supporter

part of the a date to remember universe series 🫶🏻

crowd favourite II m.earps

you’d finally convinced your wife to let you bring your little bundle of joy to her first ever international football match, an england friendly against germany which being a euros rematch had already attracted a sold out crowd.

your wife forever over protective of both you and your little now nine month old daughter had banned the two of you from the previous england games claiming that the crowds became far too rowdy.

after a couple of months you’d started to take delilah to some of her home united matches, mary much more trusting of the crowds it drew in and knowing worse case she could be by your side in a minute if need be.

but now when you were up in the family and friends box staring down at your wife who was merely a spec in the wonderous size of a packed out wembley stadium, you’d needed to assure her over and over you would both be absolutely fine.

“well now do my eyes deceive me or is mrs earps finally off house arrest?” your head moved up toward the grinning blonde making her way over to you as you carefully stood with your daughter in your arms.

“hi lee.” you greeted the captain with a smile, kissing her cheek as she hugged you with one arm mindful of your daughter. “god she’s getting big, look at the hair on her!” leah gasped in surprise, ruled out from the game with a tweak in her knee sarina didn’t want to risk.

“you should see mary’s baby photos, this is nothing!” you laughed, kissing your daughters forehead affectionately before carefully passing her over to leah. you watched with a fond smile as the younger girl cooed at your daughter, face brightening as delilah rewarded her with a few giggles for her efforts.

“are you coming down?” leah asked nodding outside where you knew she’d shortly head down to sit behind the players bench with the rest of the staff. “i don’t think I have the clearance for that!” you laughed, handing off your daughter again to marys mum as she returned from the bathroom.

“please. look who you’re with! this face is all the clearance you need my girl.” leah grinned gesturing to herself making you roll your eyes playfully. “go! i’ve got her sweetheart she’s due for a nap soon anyway, mary will appreciate you being there.” julie smiled warmly.

“i’m just gonna see if she’ll feed before kick off. she was really fussy this morning with the bottle and mary not being home.” you sighed at the memory, barely able to have her drink more than a few mouthfuls.

taking delilah and grabbing your bag you moved toward the parents room, locking the door after you.

“-and you’re sure you don’t mind?” you asked your mother in law for the third time after your returned who shook her head with a laugh and waved you off. “darling she’s fed and fast asleep. go and enjoy the game!” the woman shooed you away as leah grabbed your hand, pulling you with her as you blew your daughter one last kiss.

“alright leah relax you’re gonna rip my arm off mate!”

“hi sexy.” you grinned at your wife as she finally made her way over after saying hi to as many fans as she could, the rest of the girls not far after her revelling in their 3-1 win.

“mary!” you squealed as your wife manhandled you up and over the barrier, placing you down on the pitch and kissing you fiercely earning you a few wolf whistles as you pulled away and buried your face in her shoulder.

“you’re so sweaty.” you mumbled with a sigh as she hugged you tightly, making a point to rub her face into your shirt as you pushed her off. “hello mrs earps! now where is mini earps?” you were quickly tugged into another sweaty hug by millie.

“up in the box with mary’s mum. nice to see you too brighty!” you poked accusingly at her chest. “excuse me it’s not my fault your bulldog of a wife won’t let us meet her unless through facetime!” millie pouted, several of the other girls around you joining in on their demands to meet delilah.

“hey i’ve been ready to bring her to the last three england games.” you defended, your wife sending you a murderous side eye for throwing her under the bus as her friends and team mates continued to whine at her.

“oh you guys haven’t met her? what a shame!” you were once again lifted into a sweaty hug as a smug alessia twirled you around and placed back on your feet, ignoring the unimpressed protests that followed her remark.

“stop winding them up. i’m raising you to be a pleasant and humble individual young lady!” you smacked her on the arm with a warning look as the blonde only grinned and kissed your cheek before you were pulled in by tooney who continued the teasing that the two of them saw your daughter almost daily.

“not a single one of you are laying a finger on her until you’ve showered, changed and washed your hands at least twice!” mary shouted sternly above all the noise, several of the girls all racing off to the change rooms making you laugh at their obvious eagerness.

“now look what you’ve done. whipped them into a bloody frenzy!” mary grumbled as she hugged you from behind, placing a few lazy kisses to your jaw as you leant into her secure hold, wincing slightly as she adjusted her arms to sit higher.

“hey love you alright?” she was back in front of you in an instant, hand caressing your cheek with a concerned stare as you nodded. “my boobs are killing me, i got her to feed earlier but i need to pump soon.” you mumbled in annoyance at your least favourite part of motherhood, your constantly aching chest.

“well i’ll make sure to give them lots of love and extra special attention and kiss them better for you later tonight baby.” the keeper whispered in your ear with a cheeky grin, hand moving around you to harshly squeeze your bum before giving it a smack as your eyes widened and you pushed at her chest.

“hope you’re washing your hands twice too after that little show mother mary!” millie and rach grinned wiggling their eyebrows at the woman, eyes widening as she lunged at them, chasing them off the pitch and back into the tunnel.

“hi gorgeous.” your wife was the first to appear upstairs, followed closely by a handful of her teammates whom you’d assume the girl kept held hostage in the change rooms until she was ready to come up herself.

“she just woke up, look whose back lilah!” you cooed rocking the infant in your arms as mary beamed, tickling underneath her chin as your daughter reached out for her eagerly.

a resounding chorus of aw’s echoed as mary scooped her up and your daughter buried her face in her hoodie covered chest, mary attacking her with kisses on every inch of her body as you watched on with a smile.

“right! make an orderly queue please girls. and no pushing! yes mills i’m looking at you when i say that.” your wife ordered sternly, bouncing your daughter on her hip as her team mates hurried to line up for a hold, the entire ordeal making you laugh.

“ah no! you let them have their turns you both saw her yesterday.” you were quick to grab both ella and alessia as they rushed past you, yanking them down into the seats beside you and ignoring their protests.

eventually they both gave up and rested their heads on either one of your shoulders, the three of you chattering about your plans to take delilah to the zoo next weekend. yet another thing you’d sworn the pair to secrecy over not wanting to upset the rest of their team mates much as the two loved nothing more than to flex their godmother and favourite aunty status about.

mary caught your eye with a grin as she protectively watched over your daughter, shaking her head at your two adopted daughters sprawled across your sides.

but neither of you would change a thing, your perfect little family.

#mary earps x reader #woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #mary earps #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt

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eldritch-thrumming · 1 year

Text

you smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name.

i knew from the first note played i’d be breaking all my rules to see you. you smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name. so dim that spotlight, tell me things like “i can’t take my eyes off of you.” i’m no one special, just another wide-eyed girl who’s desperately in love with you. give me a photograph to hang on my wall, superstar.

Eddie has three major rules when it comes to working with celebrities: 1. don’t flirt with the talent; 2. don’t hang out with the talent; 3. don’t, under any circumstances, fuck the talent.

He’s had enough rockstars’ managers kick him out of hotel rooms after waking up to an empty bed with cold sheets to have learned his lesson ten times over by now.

He doesn’t even think of adding a fourth rule: don’t fall in love with the talent. Has never even come close to needing a rule like that. Not until he meets Steve Harrington.

~*~

“Ed, I got a new one for ya, he’ll be here at two,” Eddie’s boss Murray says from the open doorway of Eddie’s office.

“Huh?” Eddie eloquently responds, mouth full of the banana he’d found in the office kitchen for lunch. “What?”

Murray rolls his eyes. He gets endlessly annoyed when it turns out no one can read his mind.

“New singer-songwriter coming in at two, asked for you specifically. Working on his second album, so look alive.” Murray tosses a demo in Eddie’s direction before departing the office and moving down the hallway towards his own. Eddie barely catches it just before the plastic corner gets him right in the eye.

This is the problem with Murray. He gives no details and leaves absolutely no room for follow-up questions. The other problem with Murray is that he waits until the last minute to spring shit on Eddie that he knows Eddie’s not going to like.

Eddie flips the plastic CD case around in his hand so he can read the words written in Sharpie on the front. ‘S. H. - 2’ is all it says, giving him absolutely no information. It’s already ten to two, so Eddie doesn’t even have time to listen to a single song if he wants to make it up the two floors to the conference room where he usually meets with the talent for the first time. Eddie scowls in annoyance; he hates being unprepared and he just knows Murray is conspiring against him somehow.

Eddie pushes up from his desk and leaves his office, heading for the elevator. He pressed the button for the 42nd floor. He likes to play this game where he tries to hold his breath for the duration of the elevator ride. Two floors is easy. The ride up to the 40th floor is a lot harder.

By the time Eddie makes it to the conference room, his appointment’s already in there. As he walks through the glass doors, he realizes that when Murray said “new,” he didn’t actually mean new. He meant, like, new to them.

Because sitting in the conference room at the head of the table is former boy band heartthrob Steve Harrington.

~*~

Eddie had never had Steve’s poster on his wall in high school or anything embarrassing like that, thank god. But he had kept one of the pages he’d ripped out of the library’s copy of Tiger Beat folded under his mattress for early morning daydreaming. And Eddie had certainly never listened to his music when he’d been in Teeny Boppers United or whatever the hell his band of cookie cutter boy-next-door types was called (he definitely knew).

Now, here Harrington is, sitting across the table from him, hair full of blond highlights and cherry lipgloss (Eddie thinks, imagines, hopes) on his lips.

“Um, hi. I’m, uh, Eddie. Munson. Eddie Munson,” Eddie holds out his hand for Steve to shake and Steve does. Eddie tells himself he’s imagining the way Steve’s eyes linger on him and how he takes just a second too long to pull his hand away.

Steve smiles, blinding and perfectly white. “Yeah, man, I know. My friend Robin has worked with you before? She had real great things to say,” Steve tells him and he sounds more sincere than a former-pop star asshole has any right to be.

“Buckley?” Eddie asks surprised, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah, she’s been a huge help with my solo stuff. She co-wrote a few of the songs on my first album.” Steve drums his fingertips on the thick wood of the table.

“Huh.” The sound leaves Eddie against his will, as he’s trying to mask his surprise. Robin Buckley was talented and she had a sound that Eddie would never guess Steve Harrington would be into. She was indie, for sure, almost folk, bordering on a breathy country sound that Eddie thinks she’d deny if she heard him describe her like that. “I’m not entirely sure I’m what you’re looking for, to be honest with you.” He doesn’t know why he says it. He has no idea what Harrington’s sound is now that he’s broken free of the teenage bubblegum scene. But he’s always had a self-sabotaging streak a mile wide and he feels both relieved and disappointed to potentially have this out.

Steve frowns slightly, the crease between his eyes deepening. “Did you listen to the demo? I actually have this one song and I’m struggling with the bridge and, you know, not to, like, geek out or fan girl or whatever, but I’m, like, so into your sound and your lyrics and just the way you can construct a metaphor that seems so obvious when you hear it but is still so surprising in the context of the song it’s in and I think it would really complement what I’ve already started and…” Steve’s been gesturing wildly with his hands and must realize he’s rambling, because he trails off, blushing. “I mean. Did you listen?” He asks again.

“Honestly, Murray only just told me about this meeting about ten minutes before it started,” Eddie shrugs, but he feels bad about the way Steve’s shoulders fall.

“Ah, okay,” Steve pushes back from the table. “Yeah, okay. No worries.”

And Eddie feels, like, not great about this. He doesn’t like the disappointment he can see etched across Steve’s handsome features. So he reaches a hand across the vast wooden table, gesturing for Steve to stop.

“Wait,” he says, hand raised between them. “Listen, I’m… skeptical, to say the least. But. I’ll listen to your demo tonight, okay? And I’ll let you know what I think tomorrow. Is that… does that work?”

Steve nods quickly. “Yeah, dude. Yeah, that’s awesome. Thank you. Um. Do you… did Murray give you my number?”

“Here,” Eddie slides his notebook and pen across the table.

Steve picks up the pen, scrawling across the entire notebook page, before sliding it back toward Eddie. “My, uh, personal number.” Steve runs as hand through his highlighted hair. “I’m really looking forward to hearing your thoughts. Thanks, Eddie.” He reaches out again to shake Eddie’s hand and this time, Eddie knows he doesn’t imagine the way Steve’s fingers linger on his palm.

Eddie clears his throat. “Talk soon,” he says, smiling, before Steve is turning and leaving the room.

~*~

Eddie had gone to LA with stars in his eyes and big dreams circling his head. He’d had hopes of making it big, of thousands of people screaming his name. It had sounded so good back then, when he'd been trailer trash in the smallest, most close-minded town in the American Midwest. And it had kind of happened. He’d recorded an entire album, had even had a national tour. But he’d realized fairly quickly that it wasn’t what he’d really wanted. Performing was fun, but what he really cared about was the song-writing. The way a perfectly constructed verse could speak to someone, on a deep, intimate, important level. That’s why he cared about music, that’s why it had always been so important to him. It wasn't the performing or the flashing bulbs of cameras or the after parties filled with people who wanted to get close to fame. It was the songs. It was the words and the meanings behind them. It was what it all meant, down to the end of it all.

So Eddie had changed course. He’d begun song-writing instead, freelancing at first, selling a song here and a collab there. Until he’d been approached by Murray Bauman, who’d heard what he’d done on a Taylor Swift track and was impressed. Murray had offered him a job in New York, writing and producing, an office and a salary for the first time in his life. And Eddie loved what he got to do now, loved the tracks he produced for other people to sing. He’d thought it would feel strange, like he was missing out on something, but it didn’t. It just felt good.

That had been five years ago and now here he is, sliding Steve Harrington’s demo into the CD player in his living room. He presses play and crosses the room to grab a beer from his kitchen. Just as he's crossing the threshold between rooms, he hears the first three notes of the song and it stops him in his tracks. He tilts his head back toward the stereo.

Because the song isn't the sound of a boy band lead gone solo, belting out pop lyrics that would guarantee major radio play. This song is soft and melancholy, the poetic lyrics of a chorus crafted with vulnerability, a complicated bridge that ties it all together. The song ends and shifts, the guitar twang taking on a pop rock tempo, more upbeat than the last song. Steve's voice comes out, deep and honey-sweet, different than his boy band days. The lyrics are still sadder than Eddie would have thought and Eddie's impressed by the words juxtaposed with the upbeat instrumentals and the tone of Steve's vocals.

Eddie listens to all four songs standing there in the doorway between his living room and kitchen. Can't bear to tear himself away. And when the fourth and final song is over, Eddie crosses the room to click 'play' all over again.

~*~

Eddie waits to call Steve. He wants to call him immediately after his third listen, but he figures that it would be a bad idea to interrupt a client’s dinner or date or whatever former pop stars do on Thursday nights.

He spends all day at the office the next day listening to Steve’s first album on repeat. He thinks he can tell where Robin had helped with the lyrics, can see the ways the two of them have come together, and he can hear how their voices complement each other on the track she’s featured on. He listens to it on repeat for hours, before swapping it out for the new demo all over again. He thinks he can trace the way Steve’s voice has evolved since the first album, can see the places where his song-writing has matured. He spends the weekend deconstructing each song, finding the spots of vulnerability and the developed self-confidence that allows that vulnerability to take center stage. He feels a little guilty for not calling Steve, but he can’t imagine Steve’s sitting by the phone or anything anyway.

But the end of the weekend, Eddie knows he can’t say no to Steve Harrington. He knows that he has to be a part of this album, no matter what. That this project is going to be something magical, something unimaginable.

First thing Monday morning, Eddie calls Steve and makes a deal.

~*~

“Fuck, you have no idea how happy I am to hear from you,” Eddie hears Steve breathe down the phone line. “I’m such a huge fan and hearing what you did with Robin… I was worried you were gonna say no, y’know? When I didn’t hear from you?”

Eddie smiles to himself, small and involuntary. He’d never thought he’d hear Steve Harrington sounding so earnest.

“Well, to tell you the truth, I was just about ready to say no.” Eddie runs a hand through his hair and then shifts his phone from one ear to the other. “But I gave your demo a listen and I revisited your first album and I gotta tell you, I think there’s something really special there. I’m excited to see what we come up with.” He’s downplaying this, he knows it, but he doesn’t want to seem too eager. He doesn’t want Steve to know that he’ll probably die if he doesn’t get to work on this album. That’s probably a little too over dramatic, even for Eddie.

He hears Steve suck in a breath, can’t tell if that’s good or bad. “Dude, thank you. I’m so excited. This means a lot to me. Thanks, man.”

“Alright, well, I’m gonna have my assistant call you in a few days to set up some meetings and get everything worked out, timeline-wise. I’ll be in touch soon.” Eddie has to get off the phone now, before he says something dumb as fuck.

“Awesome. Thanks again, Eddie,” Steve replies, before there’s nothing but a dial tone.

~*~

Eddie has Chrissy set up all the meetings, scheduling studio time and booking out the conference room.

For months, Eddie’s life revolves around Steve Harrington. All he can think about are what chord progressions will have Steve’s voice sounding its best, all heavy and sweet, or what rhyme scheme the chorus should have to enhance its emotional tenor in the way Steve wants.

They record together, Steve in the booth and Eddie at the console. Sometimes Robin joins them, happy to take on second guitar and suggest a new phrasing for a line that’s giving them trouble.

Steve enlists the same band he’d used on his first album and Eddie’s kind of impressed by how well they all seem to get along. How committed they are to helping Steve figure out the vision for this album.

Towards the end of recording—long months spent trying new things, taking out second guitar here, adding a keyboard track in there—Steve convinces Eddie to play lead guitar on one of the tracks they wrote together. It’s one of the unfinished ones from the demo Eddie had been so enchanted by, the one that Steve had said was giving him trouble on the bridge. They’d spent long nights in Eddie’s office ordering late-night pizzas and trying to figure out how to make the song work. Eddie was so frustrated he was about to suggest they just scrap the whole thing until Steve started drumming on one of the discarded pizza boxes, humming along with a switched-up melody, a reversal of what they already had, a dramatic shift from chorus to bridge and back again. Eddie couldn’t do anything but stare and then the words were coming, Steve finishing his sentences when Eddie stumbled searching for the right word. By morning, the song was finished.

Eddie agrees to play, if only because he loves the song so much, so proud of the work they’d put into it. It has nothing to do with the way Steve’s sweet smile spreads over his face or the faint pinkness Eddie can see rising in his cheeks. In the end, Eddie’s even convinced to lend his vocals to the song. He doesn’t let himself think about how good they sound together, Steve’s deep voice belting out the lyrics with Eddie’s softer cadence just underneath.

~*~

Steve goes out on tour almost immediately after they finish recording. The record label says there’s so much buzz around the album, so much anticipation, that they should strike while the iron is hot.

“Don’t forget about me out there on the road,” Eddie jokes, voice light and airy. He and Steve are at his favorite coffee shop, just down the street from his offices.

“Could never,” Steve tells him, smiling, tone just on the wrong side of serious. He takes a sip of his coffee.

They’ve been dancing around each other for months, probably since they’d started recording if Eddie’s really honest with himself. But Eddie has rules and he’s been burned before. So when they’ve finished their coffee, they part ways. Eddie wishes Steve luck on his tour and Steve says he’ll be in touch.

Eddie’s life goes back to normal.

~*~

They text sporadically. Eddie doesn’t mind. He remembers how chaotic and stressful tour had been when he’d done it and he hadn’t been nearly as huge as Steve is now. Eddie knows it’s an endless parade of meet-and-greets and sound checks and dress rehearsals, one day blending into another. He’s surprised Steve even reaches out to him at all.

Steve is set to perform the last show of his tour at Madison Square Garden. Eddie thinks about showing up, grabbing the free tickets he gets as part of the job and surprising Steve. He thinks about it a lot actually, all five months Steve’s gone, fantasizes about how Steve might greet him, how he’d pull him into the green room backstage and…

A week before the show, Steve calls him.

“Hey, man!” Steve sounds winded and breathy. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, y’know, same old same old.” Eddie tries to sound as casual as possible, but he can’t control the grin that spreads across his lips.

Steve laughs. “Yeah, I bet. Hey, listen, I only have a minute, but I was wondering if you’d be open to, uh. Coming to my show at the Garden?” Eddie thinks he might be imagining the nervous lilt to Steve’s voice, the unsure way he poses the question.

“Yeah, man, of course. I’d love to be there.”

“Great! I’ll text you the details.” Eddie doesn’t even have time to say goodbye before Steve has hung up on him.

~*~

The night of the concert, Eddie shows up backstage, feeling just a little out of place. He’d bypassed the front of house, but he hadn’t missed the line of young women and girls snaking out of the venue doors and onto the streets of Manhattan. He had known Steve was big, but he hadn’t imagined it would be like this.

A woman with short blonde hair leads Eddie into the green room. Steve’s getting his makeup done, but when he sees Eddie in the reflection of the mirror, his eyes light up and he smiles, wide and goofy. He pushes up from his chair and crosses the room, moving to pull Eddie into a hug before Eddie can even say anything, arms looped around Eddie’s neck. Steve is warm against him, his muscles firm and soft—a strange juxtaposition—as Eddie wraps his own arms around Steve’s waist.

“So happy you’re here,” Steve whispers against his ear, breath hot. Eddie can’t even react before Steve’s pulling away, crossing back over to his chair and dropping himself into it. Steve looks at Eddie in the reflection, their eyes meeting. “I have a favor to ask.” Steve suddenly sounds hesitant, fingers fidgeting in his lap.

“Oh, no,” Eddie jokes, winking at Steve in the mirror. “What is it this time?”

Steve blushes. “I know you don’t really perform anymore, but I was hoping you’d help me out with our song? It’s the last song of the show.”

The words our song echo in Eddie’s ears and he can’t help his smile. Sure, he doesn’t really perform anymore, but, he realizes in this moment, he’d do pretty much anything for Steve. The thought should be terrifying, but somehow it isn’t.

“Dude, that’s awesome.” Eddie watches Steve practically sag in relief. “I’d love to.”

Before long, Steve is being rushed around, manhandled on his way to the stage, and Eddie is left to follow behind so he can watch from the wings.

Eddie had thought he’d known Steve. They’d written and recorded together for months, felt every emotion possible in the time it had taken them to complete the album. But watching Steve perform is something else entirely. Steve glows under the harsh stage lights, smiling and charismatic as he jokes with the girls in the front row vying for his attention. It’s magical to watch Steve perform the songs they’d made together, to sing words from Eddie’s own brain. Eddie is transfixed by the way Steve’s lips wrap around each note, like each word that comes out of his mouth is the most important word that’s ever been spoken. Steve is otherworldly on stage.

“For the last song, I have a surprise,” Steve stops in front of the mic stand as someone rushes to bring him his favorite guitar. He pulls the strap over his head. Someone on the side of the stage nudges Eddie, holding out a guitar that Eddie’s never seen before. If he’d known about this, he would have brought his own beloved sweetheart, but he’ll have to make do with what he has. No backing out now. “You’ve probably heard of Eddie Munson.” Steve smiles as the crowd cheers. “Yeah, he’s a huge deal. He’s worked with everyone from Taylor Swift and Phoebe Bridgers to Bruce Springsteen and Metallica.” The crowd cheers again. “I worked really closely with him on this album,” Steve smiles. “And he took something raw and messy and made it so fucking great.” The crowd screams. “I always close the show with my favorite song off the album. It’s the one that took us the longest to write. We were so frustrated, I thought Eddie was gonna tell me to just forget it. We spent so many all-nighters stuffing our faces with pizza and cursing ourselves for ever even thinking we should write this stupid fucking song.” Steve laughs with the crowd. “But then, one night it all clicked. It all came together. It was like magic, sitting there with Eddie on some ugly couch in his office, just about ready to give up. We made magic together.” Steve looks out at the crowd. “So. Eddie’s here to help me share this song with you.” The crowd goes wild as someone pushes Eddie out onto the stage, but Eddie’s eyes are fixed on Steve, who’s smiling at him from under the lights, eyes crinkling in the corners.

Playing the song is easier than Eddie had thought it would be. The notes come to him like muscle memory, like he could play this song in his sleep. He can’t take his attention away from Steve where he sings into the microphone. It’s all too much for his heart to handle. He feels like he might die here, right on the spot.

Just as suddenly as it had started, it’s all over. The crowd is deafening and Eddie’s got a smile on his face so wide his cheeks ache. Steve waves to the crowd before taking Eddie’s hand and leading him off stage.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes out, pulling Eddie along down the backstage hallways back towards the green room. “That was un-fucking-real.” Steve’s smiling, cheeks red.

Eddie can’t say anything at all. All he can do is follow helplessly behind Steve, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. His heartbeat so loud he’s sure Steve can hear it.

They’re back in the green room before Eddie can even blink. Suddenly, his back is pressed up against the closed door, Steve practically plastered to his front. He can barely breathe as Steve’s lips crash into his.

“Is this okay?” Steve asks, pulling back slightly. His breath is hot against Eddie’s lips. “Been thinking about you for months.” His voice is soft, barely there.

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie groans, running a hand through Steve’s hair, trying to pull him back in. “It’s so okay, Stevie.”

Steve lets out a groan of his own and then he’s kissing Eddie again, lips parting and tongue curling against Eddie’s.

Eddie’s not sure how long they stand there pressed up against the wall, hands tangled in hair, kissing each other breathless. All too soon a knock comes from the other side of the door and they jump apart.

“Steve?” A muffled voice calls out from the hallway. “You have a meet-and-greet in five.”

Steve looks at Eddie, laughing a little. “Fuck, sorry, I forgot,” he whispers, before raising his voice to respond to whoever’s outside, “Okay, just a minute!” He kisses Eddie one last time, soft and so sweet. “Come with me?” He asks.

Eddie nods and follows after Steve.

~*~

Eddie watches from the sidelines as Steve takes picture after picture. It’s kind of uncanny, the way Steve’s smile seems genuine in every photo he takes, the interest he seems to take in every person who comes to meet him.

The line has dwindled down when the next group of fans catch sight of Eddie in the shadows. “Oh my god!” One of the girls squeals, before turning toward Steve. “Can we get a picture with you and Eddie?”

Steve laughs, already nodding, before turning towards Eddie. “You mind?” He asks, holding his hand out for Eddie. Eddie slides his hand into Steve’s and has his picture taken.

~*~

After, Steve invites Eddie back to his fancy hotel room, but Eddie counters by inviting Steve to his apartment. Steve’s face brightens, clearly excited to see where Eddie lives. Eddie tries to mentally envision how he’d left his apartment, thinks it’s probably safe for world-famous superstars to visit.

They take Steve’s car, his driver dutifully ignoring whatever’s going on in the back seat, and by the time they make it up the six floors to Eddie’s door, they can’t keep their hands off each other. They crash through the front door, attached at the lips. They stumble down the hallway to Eddie’s bedroom and Eddie all but tackles Steve down into the sheets.

The next morning, Steve insists on making a homemade breakfast. Eddie rarely cooks, but by some miracle, he’s got eggs and bacon in his fridge. Eddie knows he’s got a dopey look on his face as he sits at the kitchen table, chin in his hand, watching Steve move around his space.

Later, when they’re curled up together on the couch and Steve is dozing against his chest, Eddie scrolls through his Instagram feed. He’s tagged in a ton of photos from the night before, up on stage with Steve, eyes fixed on each other as they play their guitars, crisscrossing beams of light all around them. He scrolls for a few more moments, before he sees the picture they’d taken together at the meet-and-greet, with the three girls who’d asked for a picture with Steve and Eddie. Steve’s blushing, his hand still holding Eddie’s, a wide smile on his face. Eddie’s just as flushed, eyes glassy, but he’s not even looking at the camera, face turned toward Steve instead. He looks lovestruck. It would be embarrassing, but Steve shifts in his arms, letting out a tiny little sound from the back of his throat.

Eddie screenshots the photo and saves it to his camera roll.

~*~

@thecaptainsgingersnap gave me “dealer's choice lyrics from Superstar” :)

This turned out waaaaayyyyyyy longer than I originally planned, so I probably should’ve split it into two posts, but here we are. Hope you enjoy it!!

#in this universe eddie munson co-wrote tolerate it #i know what song they wrote together but I’m keeping it to myself lol #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fluff #steddie fic rec #steve harrington x eddie munson

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daughterofyore · 1 year

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hiii !! loved your george post your writing absolutely amazing.. i was wondering if you could write about george and readers honeymoon or george fucking reader on even days (intense smut and angst i beg)

thank you anon who I definitely don’t know- ;) I’ll do two different stories for you, one for the honeymoon and one for even days :)

Honey Sweet.

King George x f!reader

[[Queen Charlotte (netflix)]]

category; heavy smut, fluff

wc; 2,783

a/n; You and King George have been friends for years, playfully teasing each other and sneaking improper meetings with each other. You marry and your honeymoon is very, very spicy. The naughtiness you both tried to tame flares.

!!W!!;; nsfw, light bondage, virgin, degradation, praise kink, lowk rough sex, gagging, breeding kink

The wedding had been a grand affair. Lavish, sprayed in the finest jewels and freshest flowers. All those of importance in attendance. Anyone who was someone sat along the gallery and watched as you walked up the aisle. Your train felt miles long, the skirts of your wedding dress billowed around you as you traveled up the aisle. You could see him, standing at the altar. Your first time seeing him since your secret rendezvous in the garden. He looked, spectacular. You admired him, devilish smile grinning down at you. You swore his eyes were glazed as he watched you approach.

When you finally stepped onto the altar he took your hands in his, he whispered a gentle “You’re beautiful.” Before turning to face the Bishop. The pair hearing the bishops words but not really listening. The tension between the pair of you was palpable. You watched him in your peripheral, a smile creeping onto the corners of his lips. A man of mischief, it seemed.

“I now proclaim you man and wife, King and Queen of the United Kingdom’s.” The bishop smiled, looking between the pair of you as you both turned to face each other. “You may kiss your Queen, sire.” George smiled down at you, grinning from ear to ear. How lucky were you to marry the love of your life? Your childhood best friend? The man you truly, utterly adored. George stepped close to you, holding your hands close to his heart.

“I love you.” He whispered, loud enough for only you to hear. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Quickly before you could register what had happened he bit your lip, sly enough nobody else could notice it. You withheld a yelp, looking at him with slightly widened eyes. “That’s a hint for what’s to come later.” He smirked down at you, squeezing your hands as you turned to face your court. The Ton rose, applauds erupting in a cacophony of celebrations. The pair of you strode down the aisle, hand in hand, united before all.

You entered Birmingham House, fresh into your honeymoon respite. The house staff applaud you as you entered, and George thanked them gratefully. You nodded and thanked them, the pair of you beelining for the grand stair case. Red carpet and flowers from the reception lining the bannisters. George leaned down to your ear, whispering “I would run up these stairs right now with you in my arms if I could, but your wedding dress is much too heavy for me.” You chuckled, looking up at him. “You look ravishing in it, I must say.” His grin widened, you couldn’t help but scoff at his flattery.

“And you, my dear husband look delicious in this white and gold uniform.” George bit his lip, looking like he could devour you this very moment if given the chance. He would, once you were in your chambers.

“I cant wait to rip that beautiful dress off of you.” You felt butterflies erupt into flight in your stomach, your knees almost buckling. “But for now, I’ll admire your strength in carrying the thing.” He stopped at the stairs. He stood behind you, waving handmaidens away as he scooped up your train and skirts, lifting the weight so you could climb the stairs. “First act of marital duty, help my wife to bed in her wedding dress.” The pair of you laughed, climbing the stairs in tandem. The staff admired the pair of you, if this was your first night they were sure the pair of you, were a match made in heaven.

George swung open the doors to the chambers. A crackling fire blazed in the hearth, a grand ordained varnished mahogany four poster bed sits at the far centre wall. Curtains drape across its corners, and of course the room is themed in the famous royal reds. The moment the doors closed behind you, George dropped your dress, turning you around to face him. “I’ve been wanting to devour you the moment I saw you at the bottom of the aisle.” He slipped his fingers beneath the lacy sleeves in your shoulders. “But I have had to wait, and now, my dear wife, I need your attention.” You gulped, your core ablaze. He stood before you, breathing deep as if to calm himself. “I must ask you, I knew we have had our own improper dealings…” he was referring to all the times the pair of you slipped away in gardens, never going the full mile but, playful kisses, bold touches were most certainly exchanged. But never did you expose your bodies or go a step too far. You were friends first, then this romantic attraction had grown. And now here it was, in full display as you stood before each other. Wedding rings brand new and heavy, the sexual tension pulsating between you. “Are you comfortable with going the whole way tonight?” You looked up at him, through your lashes and sucked in a breath.

“I’m ready for anything if it is with you George.” He smiled, immediately leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. His kiss was feverish, desperate nearly. He yearned for your attention, your body. He had controlled himself for so, so long. He had desired you from the moment the pair of you had met and now it was finally coming to fruition. He slipped an arm around your waist, pressing you into his front. He licked your lips, nipping at them gentle. He sucked the tiny sting away, before finally slipping his tongue against yours, dancing around your mouth. Your breath escaped you, gasping against his kiss as he explored you. He took it as an invitation to delve deeper, gently guiding you backwards to the bed.

He lay you out like a feast. Bracing himself over you with a hand each side of your head, he lowered himself down to kiss you again. He brought his head to your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin where your neck and shoulder combined. Your skin popped out of his mouth with a wet smack, and he grinned. “Marked as my wife, I think I’ll do that more often.” You smirked you at him, wrapping your hands behind his neck.

“You dirty thing you.” You chuckled, guiding him back to your lips to kiss him again. He pulled you up, kneeling onto the bed and stepping around you, undoing the various buttons and ribbons with meticulous care. Ever so slowly he undid each fasten, achingly slow and you felt the fiery need in your core grow. Once you were free he came to stand in front of you, pulling you up as he slipped hands beneath the sleeves and pulled down the dress. Teasingly dragging the fabric over your skin and watching it fall from your body. You were adorned in lacy white lingerie, specifically for this moment. The dress fell to the floor, piled at your feet. The white garter around your thigh squeezing your flesh. He sucked in a shaky breath as he admired you, drinking in the sight before him.

“Oh the things I will do to you tonight my queen.” Without another word he ripped his own suit off, throwing the shirt to the side and yanking his trousers down till he stood in briefs. He guided you back to the bed, laying you down and crawling on top of you once more. He pulled you up till you lay completely on its mattress, then he began to turn his attention to your breasts. He grabbed the corset, yanking at the ribbons and pulling it off of you. Your breasts fell free, without a moments hesitation his mouth latched to your nipple, sucking and grazing his teeth over it. Your fingers snaked through his hair, tugging slightly. Your leg raised to wrap around his waist. He groped your other breasts in his hand, massaging it, squeezing and pulling gently. He turned his attention to the other nipple, leaving the other swollen and puffy. He brought his fingers to it as he sucked the other, pinching your nipple and causing you to squirm from the sensitivity. He chuckled against your skin, loving your reaction. The soft skin was heaven for him, this was perfection. You were perfection. He could not imagine himself in any other reality than this one, right now.

His lips left your nipple with a pop, and he licked a trail to your stomach. Kissing you lovingly and snaking his way to your waist. He toyed with the hem of your panties, playing with them as he looked up to you. “Ready my dear?” You nodded, gasping a quick breathless yes as he pressed two fingers to your slit. Rubbing the fabric between them and savouring your juices as they soaked it. He bit the hem of your underwear, dragging it down over your thighs and off your legs. He took it from his mouth, gently turning you over and bringing your hands behind your back. So smoothly he created a makeshift handcuff with the lacy white fabric, tying your hands behind your back. He rolled you back over, spreading your legs and diving into your cunt.

You squirmed beneath him, trying to pull away. He only yanked you closer to him, holding you still as he explored your folds. Licking long lazy lines up your centre, tasting you. He reached your clit, immediately beginning to lick and suck it. You arched your back, unable to contain your ecstasy. Moans escaping you as he played with you. He brought a finger up, inserting it agonisingly slow and working it in and out of you. Feeling you widen and soak his hand, he stuck in a second, then a third. He pumped his hand in and out of you, curling his fingers to reach that particular spot that made you cry out his name. Your moans rang through the room, your hands clawed at his head, simultaneously begging for him to continue and stop. He never slowed his pace, keeping steady rhythm in playing with your clit and pumping his fingers into you. “Oh George you’re going to- to make me cum!” You could barely speak between your moans, yet you felt him smile against you. He didn’t miss a beat, working you towards that orgasm. It was your undoing when he placed his other hand on your swollen clit, rubbing it fast and without mercy.

“Cum for me darling, show me what a good girl you are.” You cried out beneath him, his touch electrifying. The orgasm ripped through you, and he continue his ministrations throughout. Riding it out for you, leaving you a pile of mush and sweat. Breathing heavy. He grinned down at you, watching you catch your breath. “We are far from done my dear, I still have to put a baby in you.” You swore it was almost your undoing again, before he climbed off the bed and stood at its edge. He grabbed your thighs, pulling you off the bed with great care and guiding you to your knees. He pulled off his briefs, admiring his handy work at your makeshift handcuffs. “Show me what a good slut you are, wife. Suck me dry.” His cock stood hard and tall, he pressed it against your lips. You licked a slow line from its base to its tip, George moaned above you.

You took him in your mouth, sucking the tip and only taking him half way into your mouth. His size made it hard to full take him, so you made up for it in sucking him hard and licking his tip as beads of precum leaked. He looked down at you, grabbing a handful of your hair and guiding your head up and down on his dick. He began to face fuck you, creating a steady rhythm of in and out. Working his way deeper into your throat each time. “Such a pretty little slut aren’t you wife? Sucking my cock like this.” He admired the way your tits jiggled with each thrust he pushed into you. Without warning, he pushed himself into you to the hilt, his balls against your chin. “Take it, take it like a good girl.” Your toes curled, gagging on his cock as your eyes watered. He pulled out allowing you to catch your breath, before slamming back in. He repeated this over and over again, choking you on the sheer size of his cock. He was a moaning mess above you, muttering ‘yes, yes’ with each thrust.

“Oh I’m going to cum, drink it all wife. Don’t let a drop go to waste.” He thrust into you three more times until finally, it was his undoing. He came long strings of cum into the back of your throat, forcing you to gulp it down or choke and gag. He watched you swallow, admiring you and how pretty you looked. “My beautiful little slut, drinking my cum so eagerly.” Once he had finished he pulled out, leaving you gasping for air. He let go of his grip in your hair and picked you up, walking to a desk in the corner. With one hand he swiped the contents to the ground, grabbing the panties tied around your wrists he lay you across the table, ass in the air and your breasts pressing into the smooth cold mahogany. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to stand my dear.” You could hear the grin in his voice, this side of George was something you hadn’t expected, but you loved it. You wanted more of it. You needed him, every inch of him.

He spread your legs with his foot, then grabbed your ass cheeks and spread them for a clear view of your cunt. He pushed two fingers inside you, lubing them up before quickly pumping his cock. He lined the tip with your entrance. You could feel the head of it slipping inside, he slowly entered, letting you adjust to his size. He stayed pushing in till he was completely inside you. He waited until he felt you adjust, then slowly pulled out. He gritted out behind closed teeth how tight you were, how wet you were. Your moans and pleads of him to fuck you pushed him to the edge. He knew you were accustomed to his size, so without warning he pounded into you. Shoving you up the table and a resounding clap ricocheted off the walls.

“Fuck George, yes!” You cried, your front flush with the wood. He pulled out and slammed into you again. He kept your legs spread, yet held onto the panties tied around your wrists and used them to hold you in position. He fucked you relentlessly, moaning above you as he pounded into your pussy.

“Oh fuck, you delicious heavenly thing. My wife, taking my cock like a good slut.” He rammed himself into you again, picking up the pace and without mercy slammed himself into you. His balls slapped against your clit, it was overstimulating. “You look so pretty like this, bent over my desk, bare to me and being fucked so brutally.” He pounded into you with each word, not giving you a moments rest. “I’m going to cum in you, you will look so beautiful while you grow our heir inside you.” This realisation fuelled him, and as you cried out his name he slammed himself into you to the hilt, over and over again.

“Fucking hell I’m going to cum!” You yelled out, followed by a chorus of moans and pleas. He smiled at you, watching you rock back and forth on the desk with each thrust.

“Cum for me pretty slut.” He said as he reached a hand around your thigh and rubbed at your clit. It was your undoing, you released and a moan so loud escaped you. George muttered a ‘fuck, yes’ and suddenly you could feel a pool of warmth growing in core. His seed spilled into you, filling you. He stayed inside you, breathing deeply for a moment. The pair of you could barely catch your breath, stars dancing in your eyes from the level of ecstasy you had just reached.

George lifted you with such gentle care, he stayed inside you, but guided you to the bed. He lay down and placed you above him, he kept himself inserted into your weeping cunt. “I refuse to let any leak out my lovely wife.” He smirked at you, but you couldn’t help but kiss him.

“If this is how we fuck my love, we will have a lot of babies.”

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