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seattlesellie · 1 year

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e. williams — moonflower.

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

synopsis: it’s ellie’s birthday, and you have three gifts for her. a moonflower bouquet, the latest savage starlight, and a pin from joel. maybe, you even have a fourth one.

warnings: smut (mdni), established relationship, dom!ellie, sub!reader, inexperienced reader, loss of virginity (r!), first time everything, loads of praise, loads of romance, cute little slaps, and as weird as it is to include this in these warnings; mentions of joel and ellie’s complicated relationship.

an: finally finished it. this is very very fluffy, as smutty as it may be. if you love flowers this one’s for you <3 i truly could have made this longer but i was super self conscious so i might post a little blurb instead!! constructive criticism and all comments n discussions are very much appreciated. thank you for being patient and sweet i love u 💗

enveloped up in a baby blue ribbon, it sits pretty on top of your duvet. the latest edition of “savage starlight” — ellie’s favorite comics series, and a bouquet of flowers. when you picked them out just for her— forehead glistening under the radiant june sun, you noticed a singular flower that set itself apart from the others. blinding white, trumpet shaped— it’s lemon fragrance wafted through the thick air. it's petals were curled up, but you decided to keep it nevertheless. you’ve never seen one quite like it. when you brought it to your house, along with the fresh daisies and the garden roses, you noticed something bizarre, and oh so beautiful.

the odd flower bloomed underneath the moonlight that snuck itself inside the big window of your room. as the white petals unfurled, there you stood— awestruck.

⋆˙⟡♡

you decided to bring it over to louisa, the frail old lady who ran the jackson community garden.

“s’quite beautiful, isn’t it?” you told proudly, taking a whiff of the flowers creamy white petals. louisa ran her fingertips delicately over the flowers green stem, and just like you— louisa was awestruck.

“oh dear, it certainly is. how did you… manage to find it?” louisa probed, and your heart skipped a beat. your relationship with ellie was new, and fresh as a daisy. your face flushed, but you told louisa— your precious confidant, nevertheless. “ellie’s birthday’s coming up soon… so i, was picking up some flowers for her. s’not much, i know… but,” you scratched your arm, feeling extra timid. “i think ellie will like them. i… hope”

louisa smiled soft heartedly, the aged skin around the sides of her eyes folding itself and forming three little lines. somehow, it felt like the old lady knew more about you two than you did. “she’d be a fool not to”, she assured, and pressed tightly on your shoulder.

“i would have asked you if you were in love… but, no need to.”

“how come?”

“it simply shows, pumpkin’”

louisa sighed deeply, and began guiding you towards the humble old basement, where she stored all of her gardening books.

ipomoea alba, the tropical white morning-glory, jimsonweed, or for those of us who are a tad scatterbrained— moonflower. the moonflower, is the most romantic flower of all. it is dreamy, and mysterious, and it yearns for the warm embrace of the sun, but it also requires a cold caress of shade. it slumbers amidst the daylight, closing and hiding its delicate petals up, but during the night— it blooms, and it’s magnificent. as wispy and precious as the moonflower may be, the bloom may also be deadly.

it reminded you of her.

⋆˙⟡♡

ellie and you had numerous conversations about things that were… hypothetical. if you were a planet, which planet would you be?, if you were an animal, which one suits you best, would you say?, make it more specific, even— if you were a bug, what bug would you be? ellie told you were a butterfly, and that she would be a spider.

“don’t… spiders eat butterflies?” you probed, your head resting on top of her shoulder. it was a quiet, chilly night in jackson, and for some reason, being around ellie made you feel scorching. ellie huffed and chuckled, “yeah, think they do”

“well… that sucks” you noted, as a loose strand of ellie’s auburn hair tickled your cheek. ellie thought for a while, and then chuckled again. she did it quite a lot, chuckle to herself without saying a word. “i wouldn’t… eat you though. i’d… build a little web around you. protect you from the other spiders. you could be my personal butterfly… pet, thing”

you hummed, being caged in ellie’s spider web didn’t actually seem all that bad. in fact, it had a certain charm to it. but, wait… “wouldn’t being around me make you hungry?”

ellie’s breath caged in her throat.

it already does.

“guess i’d have to fight against my urges” she rasped, and you nodded.

if you were a butterfly, ellie would be the brave spider who protects you.

if you were a lily; who blooms during the daylight, the resurrection of spring, the goddess oestre, enlightened and wise, ellie was your missing piece. the moon to your sun, and the darkness to your light. the universe thrives because of it’s harmonious balance, and so do you.

⋆˙⟡♡

sugar, flour, cocoa powder, salt, two fresh eggs, a cup of milk, and one cane of sweet vanilla. the chocolate cake was damn near perfect. writing her name on the cake with a thick layer of vanilla icing was extremely precious and necessary to you. woefully, the can was nearing on empty, so— the cake read; “happy birth, el”

you impishly giggled to yourself. sounds like ellie’s going to give birth. with one more dip of your finger inside the rich ganache, you came to a firm and final conclusion— it was heavenly, the perfect balance of sweet and chochlaty bitterness. the secret ingredient that must have made it as amazing as it was, was the espresso powder you traded for a bargain. or maybe, maybe it was love.

“ugh, quit it. cheesy” you silently mumbled to yourself.

⋆˙⟡♡

the weather was hot, and the air felt thick. you always deemed it funny, ellie being a june baby and hating the heat. the town bustled with noise of chatter on a busy monday mornin’, and maria stood with her arms crossed against her chest in the corner. she seemed to be in the midst of scolding a guilty looking tommy, and next to them, were a handful of children giggling in the background.

balancing the chocolate cake, alongside with the gifts sitting inside the brown paper bag (with the pretty blue ribbon you clasped onto it), and the flower bouquet was hard. waddling around the town, on your way to ellie’s house, no wonder you nearly dropped it all on the floor when you bumped into a large man, that hit your front like a stone.

“oh— uh, easy there, kiddo”

you could recognize that rasp and that texas twang everywhere, even when your eyes were squinted, avoiding the rays of the sun.

joel.

you hastily managed to balance it all together again, apologizing profusely to the middle aged man— whomst you almost smashed the entire cake onto. he wore a black button up, it seemed… festive. huh. “headin’ to see ellie, i assume?” joel rasped.

you nodded and smiled politely. you’ve never been completely alone with joel, and most importantly, you’ve never talked to him about ellie. things between them were… complicated. you didn’t know why, and sometimes— you were too afraid to even ask. it all seemed too sensitive. ellie would nearly wince when his name was mentioned, and her eyes would fill with something that seemed like sorrow, or regret, or anger. usually, all of those emotions— all at once.

“that her gift?” he pointed towards the brown paper bag.

“mhm! savage starlight. s’the latest edition… i think”

joel smiled softly, and hummed in response. his eyes too, were filled with something that seemed to hold a droplet of sorrow and regret, but no anger though. different than ellie’s.

“she’s still into it, huh?”

“she’s obsessed” you giggled. truthfully, she had a good reason to be. savage stralight was fucking awesome, you grew to realize. it was even more awesome when she read it to you in the dark, cuddled up in her squeaky bed, holding a flashlight to illuminate the written words. when you dozed off, she’d continue reading out loud, maybe to herself, or maybe for your subconscious to absorb.

“i have… this, thing, uh—“ he shifted awkwardly, and began searching for something in his pockets. joel took it out, and showed it to you while holding it in his palm. the thing he mentioned, was a golden, diamond studded pin of the fallen apollo 1. it was beautiful, highly detailed, it’s unmistakable shine reflecting the rays of the sun.

“found it last week while i was patrollin’”

“it’s… woah” you marveled, running a delicate finger over the polished metal.

“is she… still into the space thing?” the stony man asked with a slightly shaky voice. something in you had to physically fight the urge to pull him into a warm hug.

“yeah… we… well, we went to look at the stars the other day”

joel placed the pin in your hand, and wrapped your fingers around it. “could you give it to her? don’ gotta say it’s from me. tell her you found it”

you nearly choked up.

“joel… you should come with me”

joel sighed, and smiled softly again. joel wasn’t into smiling, but you made ellie smile, and that made joel smile.

“maybe next birthday, kid”

joel, just like louisa, knew ellie loved you before she did. and joel, saw his girl turn from a sulky, sullen teenager, to someone who looked like she had something, someone, to live for.

⋆˙⟡♡

12:00pm, and exactly three knocks on ellie’s wooden door. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t filled with anxiousness. being anxious around ellie wasn’t a strange new feeling. you had butterflies swarming around your belly when she looked at you, had butterflies when she talked to you, especially when she used that one tone, when she got out of the shower with only a small towel wrapped around her glistening body, you had butterflies, or better yet— a painfully lage bee colony growing in your tummy. when she kissed you softly, the bees calmed down and were a little more subtle, you could imagine them having black oogly heart eyes— but when she kissed you roughly, forcefully against the wall (or against the concrete floor that one time), the bees buzzed uncontrollably, and somehow flew down to a lower part of your body. when she grabbed your waist and gave it a squeeze, as she ravished your mouth with her wet tongue, they went even lower and…

well, anyways— ellie made you nervous. handing her her gifts made you nervous and having her first birthday with you made you even more nervous. you were a fuzzy ball of nervousness and anticipation, and now ellie opened the door and you nearly dropped the cake on the ground.

again.

usually, ellie would greet you with a shy “hey”. exactly a week ago, she added a “babe” to it. (the belly bee colony buzzed and they were tremendously loud, you thought ellie could possibly hear them — so you had to hold on to your tummy) today, ellie greeted you with blown out eyes and a gasp. “oh…”

“happy birthday” you mumbled adorably as if it was a hushed little secret, too shy to look her in the eyes. ellie was too shy too, a coy smile painted on her lips, rosy cheeked, with her hands clamped in two fists inside her oversized grey sweater (it’s june, she would not let that hoodie go). her pupils were glued to the “happy birth, el” written in white icing.

when she felt bold enough to look you in the eyes after not speaking (just staring) for one whole minute, as soon as she caught your gaze— your orbs began dancing around everything you saw, purely avoiding her look but with a huge grin plastered on your sweet, overly excited face.

would it be stupid for ellie to tell you that she loved you right now? because it was getting incredibly hard not to.

instead of a (perhaps) misplaced i love you, ellie decided a pure “thank you” would be have to suffice. she held the door for you, and you shyly tiptoed in. when you placed the chocolate cake on top of the oakwood counter along with the paper bag, you felt ellie’s hands shyly creeping up to your waist, pulling you in a tight hug. “you really… really, shouldn’t have” she whispered. her voice was still groggy, lazy, raspy.

it was her morning voice.

funnily enough, this was your first time hearing it. you never stayed over past 2am— the night was dangerous in your eyes. the night meant going to sleep, it meant staying in her bed, and it meant sleeping with her inside of it. the idea of a night with ellie felt as if the bee colony in your stomach was about to erupt and explode and splatter everywhere.

“you know i don’t… celebrate these things” ellie rasped again, breaking you off from your idle thoughts. you placed your hand over hers, and giggled. “s’not a thing, el… it’s your birthday”, ellie hummed in agreement, and you continued. “besides, it’s an—“ she planted a soft, chaste kiss on your neck. it made you shudder and it made your voice break. “an… excuse to eat some cake”

“just cake?”, ellie sighed, her raspy voice tickling your cheek.

“mhm” you nodded, distracted as ever.

“whats in that paper bag then, huh?”

the flower only blooms during the night, and savage starlight was meant to be consumed with the help of a trusty ol’ flashlight, under a thick blanket. the sun was still out, so the moonflower slept. for the comics, you wouldn’t need a flashlight, and that would simply demolish all of the fun.

the sun was still out so unfortunately, ellie will have to sit and patiently wait.

you pull yourself out of her hug, and waltz away slowly. “well… paper bags for later”, you tilt your head, drawing out your words just to tease her and then some. “so, not gonna show you what’s in there”

ellie raises a brow, a slight half smirk creeping up on her face. saying ellie was a patient girl, would be similar to saying a cat doesn't walk on four. technically, it could… be biped, but— well, wouldn’t quite work. so similarly, patient and ellie couldn’t quite work either.

“you gonna say no to me on my birthday?” she jests, pulling her arms and crossing them over her grey hoodie ridden chest.

“oohh…” you nod twice, “so now you do celebrate these things?” you teasingly raise an eyebrow, mirroring her stance. ellie chuckles and it comes out from deep within her throat. she squints her eyes, “you’re such a tease”

she must not know one of the bee’s just stung the insides of your own stomach and dropped dead. or maybe it’s not dead yet, because you can still feel it’s erratic buzzing and the venom makes you feel as if you’re about to pass out.

“mhm… it’s okay, i’ll wait, babe” — there’s that babe again, and the little bee is definitely dead by now.

“can we eat the cake outside? s’nice, warm… we could do a picnic!” you chirp, each and every single one of your words laced with that syrupy sweetness that makes ellie melt.

ellie smiles and feels a little blush creeping up on the apples of her cheeks. “could do… whatever you want, it’s your cake” she states, and you roll your eyes at her sweet humility. “s’not my cake, it’s yours” you mutter serenely as you point towards the vanilla icing. “see? has your name on it and all”

ellie tries plunging a slender finger into the icing, a foolish attempt to taste it, but you slap it away, a faux pout forming on her face.

“can’t taste my own cake?”

“nope. outside” you speak, popping the p’.

“yes ma’am”

⋆˙⟡♡

you take a sip of the freshly squeezed lemonade, a droplet of sour and sweetness flowing down from the corner of your lips. ellie— propped up by her elbow, brings her thumb and wipes it away. “so messy” she jives playfully, putting the pad of her thumb in her mouth and joyfully sucks on it. she’s squinting her eyes, attempting to avoid the rays of the sun, and you giggle impishly. “can i finally taste my cake now?” she drawls.

impatient as ever, ellie doesn’t even bother pulling out the white plastic fork. instead, she shoves her hand into the cake and takes a big bite. her eyes shut as she devours it, humming at the taste. with her mouth full, she utters “happy birth, el, huh?”.

you breathlessly laugh and nudge her arm away so she almost falls on the checkered, red and white picnic blanket. “sounds like… mmh, fuck, this is good”, she licks her finger — “sounds like m’giving birth”

“i didn’t have any more icing left!” you raise your tone brightly. ellie looks you in the eyes and swallows a sly smirk. this time, it’s your turn to wipe some residue off the corner of her lips. you taste it, and god damn was she right— it’s finger lickin’ good.

“i think that like, when we have babies, you’d be the one to give birth… not my thing. don’t want some… little intruder in my stomach”

before you have time to answer, ellie bites the insides of her cheeks and feels like slapping herself in the face or burying herself 7 feet in the ground. she’s talking about having babies with you?!

she’d smack herself so hard right now if she could.

for you, however, it’s becoming insufferably hard not to start jumping up and down and ripping your hair off in excitement.

“let me get this straight…” you begin, and ellie’s convinced you’re about to tell her that she’s too much and leave. “an intruder, as you put it, can live inside my belly for nine whole months, but not inside yours?”

ellie has to stop herself from breathing a sigh of relief. “it’ll suit you, is all i’m sayin’”

ellie manages to eat half of the creamy chocolate cake all by herself. she was never one to have a big appetite, did you sneak something inside of the batter, perhaps?

maybe it’s love, ellie wonders. she scolds herself internally, quit being such a sap. it’s definitely the espresso powder her taste buds managed to pick up on.

laying face to face with her eyes closed, you manage to count some of her splattered freckles. one… two… fifteen…, some of them grew darker, tanner. ellie’s chest rises up and down, and you almost think she must have dozed off like a little kid having a post—dessert nap, until;

“hey” she whispers.

“hi” you whisper back.

ellie opens her eyes, a soft, lazy half smile adorning her face. she bites her bottom lip, “can i open my present now?”

impatient.

you shake your head softly. “nuh uh, sun’s still out. sorry, els”

she wants to scoff but she loves it when you call her by that little nickname. “but…” you look down shyly, reaching out for your pocket. “i ran into… joel, on my way here” you speak quietly, afraid of saying the wrong thing. ellie blinks twice, and clears her throat. taking it out of your pocket, you place the little precious pin in between ellie and you. ellie only looks at it, doesn’t touch. you can’t quite describe the expression on her face. surprised? dreadful?… doubtful, maybe, and a tad curious perhaps. “he wanted me to give you this… s’the fallen apollo eleven, i think”

ellie let’s out a quiet chuckle.

“apollo one”

she lifts herself up, taking the pin in her hand. her green eyes begin examining it, brushing her fingers on the golden metal. you sit quietly for a while, allowing ellie to be one with her thoughts. she doesn’t know what to think, what to feel, really. sorrow? regret? tears threaten to fill the brim of her eyes, so with her back to you, she sighs deeply and swallows them up. you bring your hand to lay a small caress on the small of her back, and ellie gazes to the side. she grabs your hand, and plants a small kiss on to your fingers. “ellie…” you silently whisper, and ellie sniffles.

“it’s alright, m’okay” she assures, and lays herself on top of the blanket again. her hand still holds your fingers, and you bring them around her thumb and squeeze. “thank you” she voices. before telling her that you’re not the one she should thank, a small tear flows down her cheek. you’d wipe it away, but ellie grabs your other hand and interlocks her fingers with yours. “sometimes it… fuck—“ she laughs, it occurss to both of you you’ve never quite seen her cry. “it’s okay” you comfort. keep going, you got her. ellie deeply sighs, “feels like i don’t deserve any of this”. the tear is hanging from her chin now, then flows down to her neck. you don’t ask her why, because now is not the time, but you’ll ask her one day. for now, all you do is assure her that she does. and for once in her life, she actually might start to believe it.

⋆˙⟡♡

apparently, chocolate cake, raspberry jam and some bubbly champagne (that you stole borrowed from the tipsy bison) can really get you two going. after hours of aimless giggling, tummies hurting from all of the fine delicacies, it’s time for your favourite past time— ellie and yours hypotheticals corner. naturally, with your head laying on top of her firm chest, you’re the one who starts. “okay, so… plants”, you gush. “mhm, so plants” ellie repeats, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your half covered shoulder. “which plant would i be?”

ellie thinks for a while— you two really take this seriously. she hums before responding, puffing some air from her nose. “chocolate plant, for sure”

interesting. you thought she’d say a certain flower, a delicate one, a soft one, one that blooms in the day. chocolate plant. “intersting… why chocolate? — ellie doesn’t quite know either. perhaps it’s because she loves chocolate and she loves you, and the champagne is making her feel giddy and silly and you’re her little chocolate bean, plant thing.

“cause it’s tasty” she responds, and you almost settle on that except… you seem to have an important anecdote you have a blinding urge to point out.

“well, it makes zero sense. you’ve never even tasted me”

that she hasn’t. yet.

ellie’s breath hitches inside her throat and she nearly chokes on her spit. do you know… what you’re doing? you muttered that sentence so innocently, so absentmindedly, and of course she hasn’t tasted you, but did that thought occur in your mind like it did in hers? you’re still smiling, patiently waiting for her response, and ellie can’t help but feel so… well, she couldn’t quite put her finger on what she was feeling. her cheeks however— light up in a shade of dusty pink.

“imagine if you like, ate me! i’d probably taste so…”

sweet? intoxicating?

“gross!” you exclaim, exaggerating and blowing your eyes out. ellie’s cheeks calm down a little, the pretty pink diminishing slowly. “thank god you’re not a cannibal…”

nah, she thinks she might be something worse.

slowly, ellie pushes her body closer to yours. you feel her faint breaths on the tip of your nose. “tickles…” you murmur, and ellie huffs out and smiles. it’s that smile she gives you before saying something. the way her eyes dart from your lips to your eyes… it makes you feel vulnerable, coy, and it’s as if she’s studying you, taking in your features one by one. perhaps, she loves seeing the way your eyelashes flutter like small butterfly wings when you feel her gaze on you.

“i have tasted you though” she rasps, her voice low and husky. her eyes are focused on your lips now, as hers slightly part, and then close up again. “you have?” you mumble, shy under her gaze. she hums, bringing the pad of her thumb to your lips again and pulling on your bottom one slightly. this time, you don’t have lemonade juice running down your chin. this time— the gesture is truly just for her. those lips… she thinks.

“you taste… good. and sweet, like…”, your lips curl up to a smile. “chocolate?” you complete. ellie hums again, her palm cupping your cheek. you feel warm, how are you always so warm? — even when you’re shivering cold, warmth is all she can feel.

“and vanilla… and coconut” she caresses your cheek with her thumb. you giggle, “you’ve never even had coconut”

“nah, but i can imagine…” — and oh, imagine she can. is this the champagne talking? it must be it, because that fizzling bubbly voice in her head would not let her go. funny, she doesn’t even feel drunk. “you taste sweet too” you state, nearly purring into her hand as she keeps delicately caressing your skin. she chuckles, “no i don’t” — and she’s right. she doesn’t taste sweet, in fact, she tastes minty and earthy and it makes you feel dizzy each time.

slowly, ellie gets her face even closer to yours. she sees your eyes twinkling, and she swears they shine brighter than every star she’s ever seen. back in the old times, nasa would have a field trip exploring your orbs. they might even find new galaxies in there, and ellie wishes she could explore each one. she really should have been an astronaut.

“ellie?” you quietly whisper. ellie nearly gets lost in the way you say her name, but responds to you nevertheless. “yeah babe?”

“can i taste you? to prove how… sweet you are?” — she knows you mean her lips, regardless, that dusty pink turns a deeper shade of crimson. she thinks it’s absolutely adorable, how you still feel the need to ask. however, she forgets that she asks you that question each time as well. can she… kiss you here? right below your ear? that feel good?

she doesn’t respond with words, but with actions. she cups your cheek harder now and with fervour, and she knows she needs to be romantic but she’s famished, so as soon as she feels your lips part— she plunges her tongue deep inside and you surrender to her domination. almost like a waltz, your tongues dance together, swirling around each other and tasting— and she still doesn’t taste all that sweet, but you do, and it makes her brain feel like mush. you whimper into her mouth and it almost sounds like your “els”, and she knows she needs to come out for air soon and break off the kiss but how can she? how can she when you’re so damn sweet?

her hand dips lower, placing itself on your throat, and she gives you that little squeeze (that she realised must have made you feel good, because you always had chills when she did and she could feel them), and this time— you really did whimper out her name. ellie groans, but you abruptly break the kiss, holding on to your stomach. she pants slightly, before releasing your throat from her grasp. “did i do something?“ she asks quietly.

thing is, she truly didn’t. in fact, it was that damn bee colony that did. she must have heard them buzzing and flying into each other and bumping into your stomachs walls and dip even lower and— “can you hear them?” you question— and you’re panicking slightly, she can tell.

“hear who?”, ellie looks around, but nobody’s there. intruders? clickers? you must have drank too much, but you really hadn’t so…

“it’s so fuckin’ stupid…” you whine, lowering your head and hiding your face in the crook of her neck. ellie still thinks you must have heard something for real— and by all means, it is real, just not… like that. “hey” she encourages, placing her hand on the back of your neck. if she dares to even move it to the front of it, you’d panic again and be totally screwed. ellie notices you’re holding on to your lower stomach, “does it hurt?” she questions, worrisome.

“no… no, s’not that…” you voice, an octave higher than a whisper. “just when… when you kiss me? like, when you kiss me like that, you know?”, you hide your face again, and ellie’s worried sick— oh god, you hate it. you hate it when she kisses you.

you take a moment to gather your thoughts, you can explain this.

you breathe deeply, and ellie still holds the back of your head. “you know how people say… that you have… butterflies, when you’re around someone you like?”

“uh huh” ellie sighs. she gets it now. you don’t have those butterflies. you get sick when she kisses you, it makes your stomach hurt and you hate it and hate her and she knew you were too good for her and fuck.

“well, mine feel more like… well, they feel violent. it feels like i’m going to explode. i call them my bees, my bee colony, it’s so fucking stupid and i feel like they’re everywhere—“

oh.

ellie laughs (finally), breathlessly so, and she giggles and squeezes your body closer to hers and you continue to ramble, your voice slightly muffled by the fabric of her hoodie. she’s going to squeeze you so hard you might die, and you start banging your hands on her chest and you’re embarrassed, mortified at your little confession and the bees are so mad! they're calling for a conference call and you nearly explode.

“babe, babe—“ ellie calls out, forcing your head out of her neck and nearly begging you to look at her. you don’t though, you shut your eyes tight as she looks at you and thank god you do because she looks so amused but so enamoured she nearly doesn’t even want you to look.

“you wanna know what i have?” she probes, and you finally open one eye to take a peak. “no!”, and immediately— you shut it again. “i don’t have butterflies either” she calmly states, playfully pressing on your nose so you can huff out and look at her. when you do, you expect to see a smile— but instead, you’re faced with a serious expression, ellies eyebrows furrowing.

“i have wasps”

“wasps?” you doubt her quietly.

“mhm…” her lips part and she licks her bottom one before she speaks. “more like… tigers, or like, lions. way worse than yours. i mean, i’m in terrible condition”— she chuckles, and she just might be.

her words don’t comfort you, in fact, they make you buzz even louder.

doe eyed, you look up at her. “lions?”

“mhm” she nods. lions that might just tear you apart on the grass if you keep on looking at her like that.

this time, when she kisses you again— you don’t hold on to your stomach, you place your hand on hers. as the bees grow even louder, crashing into each other and ruining your slippery insides, you swear you can nearly hear her own lions roar alongside with your buzzing. she grabs your neck and squeezes it again, you nearly shriek, and ellie groans into your mouth and she’s the one to stop, but for an entirely different reason now. “inside?” she murmurs, staring at your glistening, kiss swollen lips and at the drool that runs on one corner. “please…” you whine, and ellie’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. please…? she repeats in her mind— and oh fuck.

⋆˙⟡♡

so she takes you inside, your hand in hers.

with the chocolate cake and the bottle of champagne and it’s glasses far forgotten, the sweet raspberry jam slowly melting away, the chocolate cake growing into a chocolate… pudding, the ants are sure to come. how pitiful, that bees will always triumph over them, and the wasps— or the lions, well, they triumph over everything.

what ellie wants to do right now, is take you up to her bedroom and ravish you in all your glory, but you’re no forgetful fool. with everything else washed away, how dare you forget her presents?, her moonflowers?

“ellie!” you exclaim, squeezing on her hand. “it’s nighttime! your birthday presents…” you wiggle out your eyebrows.

shit— she nearly forgot, she’s pretty sure that if someone placed an actual living and breathing dinosaur in her living room she wouldn’t even notice because you keep on rendering her a distracted mess.

besides, its your own fault, because how do you do that? how do you go from driving her crazy and making her want to eat you on the grass, to making her heart flutter and burst inside of her chest the moment after? you’re a magician, a witch, what the fuck are you? not a fairy— that’s for sure, fairies are scary.

“so… you wanna open them up or not?”

she wants to open you up. no, no! bad ellie! that’s definitely the champagne still talking (it’s long gone.)

“fuck yeah”

you grab the paper bags (with the little blue ribbon), and drag her upstairs. you physically drag her, because for some reason, opening her presents is making her incredibly nervous. you expected her to be more eager, to snap the bag out of your hand as soon as you allowed her, but instead— she sits on the bed and just waits. she’s waiting for you to hand them out to her.

the nervousness seems to eat you up as well, tummy aching (still the bees, but also some normal excitement)— and as you hand her the bag, a few questions start to arise.

what if she hates it? what if she hates flowers? what if she’s allergic to the ipomea alba, what if she starts sneezing and coughing and dying?! or what if she already managed to get over savage starlight? (in a matter of two days…) what if the cake sucked and she was lying all along and you’d disappoint her and she dumps you and—

“HOLY FUCKIN’ SHIT!!!!!!!!!” — she yelps, you didn’t even notice she opened the damn bag!

“this is…..” her eyes are bright and she smiles so big it nearly damn hurts the apples of her cheeks. “savage fucking star— fuck! s’the latest fucking one! how did you even manage to, fuck— gotta fuckin’ kiss you right now or i’d die”

ellie practically pounces on you, kissing you all over your face. cheeks— two kisses on each one, your nose, your forehead, your chin, both of your earlobes, “close your eyes, gotta kiss ‘em too”, your jaw, your neck…

“are you into me or something? cause it looks like you’re super into me, giving me this fuckin’ gift… dude. if you have feelings for me…”, she places her pointer and her middle finger on your chin and makes you look up at her. you stifle a giggle, “you gotta just tell me, might be into you too” she pecks your lip slowly and you instantly melt.

“we have to read it today… but only eight pages! gotta save it up”

she nearly buries her entire face in the comic book pages. she sniffs, “shit… even smells new” — a layer of fine dust adorns it, so you know it doesn’t.

“rented it from the library!” you chirp, the concept of libraries being one you merely only read about.

“there’s… something else in there too…” you begin. for some reason, giving her those flowers you picked makes you even more nervous. she curiously looks up at you. “there's more?”

you bend down to grab the paper bag off of the wooden floor. the moonflowers’ petals opened up, and there you were— awestruck again. “you can’t give me more things… it’s too much i don’t…” deserve it? you know she thinks so. regardless, she looks up at you adoringly, as your hand tremors and you lift the flowers out of the brown paper bag. you look at them, trying to decide if maybe you were just being delusional, maybe they’re not nearly as pretty as you thought they were when you came across them for the first time. perhaps they’re…

“woah…” ellie gazes at them, wide eyed. she doesn’t even know the meaning of them but yet she is nothing but mesmerised. “wh… what flower is this?” she asks, running her fingers on their dark green stems. when she reaches their creamy white petals, she moves her fingers even more delicately. caressing it, her knee nudges yours.

“moonflower” you reply silently, watching ellie’s digits adoring the bloom. “it’s… it’s really pretty”

you take a deep breath. “i picked it up cause… it reminds me of you”, you exhale, fiddling with your fingers. when she notices, she puts her hand, the one with the flowers in it— on top of yours. the room is quiet, except for ellie’s shallow breaths.

“it um… well… first of all, it’s beautiful, like you”, you flush, and ellie flushes as well. she swallows deeply, and involuntarily, a small “fuck” escapes from her throat.

“and… they’re not supposed to grow in jackson. it was purely by accident, so they’re special… like you, and uh… well, they only bloom during the night, which is why i waited. they’re strong, and they’re deadly, i mean— the venom is… so don’t… eat it, i guess.” you chuckle, and you barely even notice two fat tears streaming down your cheeks. “they remind me of you because they’re the prettiest flowers ive ever seen, and when i saw them… i was kinda of like… woah, just like what happened when i saw you for the first time, remember?” — ellie sniffles, and ellie’s crying. “so… you’re my moonflower”

ellie doesn’t know what to do. she looks up, covering her face with her hands. she wipes away a stupid tear, and then wipes away your precious one.

one whole minute passes.

“if i ever…” she begins, swallowing hard. “if i ever lose you? i think i might die” — because the moonflower needs sun to live, and you’re her sun, her lifeline.

you take her face in between your shaky palms. ellie’s lips hold a slight tremor, and then she laughs.

“i’m in love with you”

you don’t have to say it back. you really don’t, because again — actions speak louder than words. your soft lips meet her slightly chapped ones, and ellie hums into the kiss. different than the one before, this one is gentle, dim, the lust hasn’t disappeared— it’s still there, but it has something more to it, not diminishing it, just hovering above. could you guess what it is?

“i love y…” you whisper out, attempting to break the kiss, just if you could simply say this one thing, but ellie knows, she knows. she pulls you by the back of your neck more forcefully now, deepening the kiss. because you couldn’t finish your sentence, you pout— but ellie suckles on your bottom lip and wipes your silly pout away. her hand goes lower, from the back of your head to hold on to your waist, and she squeezes the covered flesh. you moan into the kiss, tasting her spit and her tongue, and oh god— the bees. you think you might have just another precious gift for her. one she’s been waiting for, one she’s been fantasising about, one that you’ve been fantasising about. when you moan into the kiss, ellie breaks it. she’s staring you down, panting again. “think i… have… one more gift” you whisper, and ellie— her lips parted, nods once. “one more?” she rasps, squeezing your waist again and pulling you up to straddle her. “mhm”, you hiccup as you feel yourself snugly pressed up against her.

she places one hand on your thigh, simply caressing it back and forth. the more up she goes, the more your breaths become uneven and so do her’s. it’s not entirely an unfamiliar territory— you've been seated on her lap a few times before (seven, but whos counting? she is), but this is… different. “whats your gift, huh?” she teases. you? are you going to be her gift? you always have been…

you whine when she traces small circles with her slender fingers on your clothed inner thighs. you whine and it makes ellie throb— you’ve never quite made that noise before, and she yearns to pull every single noise you could possibly make out of you. a whimper, a moan, god— a scream. she feels like she’s about to explode and christ, you’re still fully clothed.

like a hunter examining it’s prey, ellie moves her face forwards, and then downwards, towards your neck. she places a few chaste kisses, “ah! tickles…” ellie chuckles darkly, yearning to “tickle” you once more. she plants two more delicate, tickling kisses before suckling on the flesh. at first, her tongue meets your skin and she laps up at it. then, her teeth bite into it, and you nearly jump. “sorry… that hurt?” she asks, and really, she’s not sorry at all. “feels…” ellie cuts you off and sucks again. this time, she’s determined to leave a mark. “oh… feels…” you continue, shuddering in her arms like glass. she hasn’t even touched you, not really, and yet everything feels damp. your face, from your tears and from her tears and from spit, to the flesh of your neck that’s being sucked on and played with, down to the small wet patch inside your panties that you’d be mortified if she noticed.

when she finishes the assault on your neck, she moves up to your lips again and grunts when she sees how your lips were already parted, just for her. the kiss is slow, wet, her tongue kitten licking your own. it’s nasty, really, wet smacking and sucking noises filling the air. almost involuntarily, your hips start moving and grinding up against her thigh. ellie moans deeply. “mmph… yeah?” she teases, or at least tries to, because her voice is shaky and turned on to the max. she helps you move slightly, and my god she needs to take your pants off and feel your naked heat against her like this. when she thinks about what it must be like for you— she imagines your fat pussy lips squished up inside your panties, grinding on her thigh and she nearly loses it. she wants to help you grind harder… could she make you cum just from that? cum inside your pants whilst using her thigh? “fuuuck”, ellie groans and lifts her hand up, nearly smacking your ass but it ends up just landing on her own leg.

“s’not fair… what you’re doing…” she murmurs in your ear, “what did… what did i do?” you respond back, your voice high and needy. ellie doesn’t even know what she meant to say. all she knows is that it’s not fair. it’s not fair how you make her react and feel like this, the way your eyes glisten isn’t fair, the way you grind up on her thigh and make those sounds isn’t fair, the way you make her feel sticky and mushy and wet — without even taking your clothes off, isn’t fair.

still moving with fervour on top of her legs, her hand is dangerously close to where you need her the most. she nearly cups it, flips you over and ravishes you whole, but she stops herself. “can i please… take your fuckin’…” she rasps, running her short fingernails on your sides. she’s not scratching, but it’s not an entirely gentle movement either. she doesn’t know where to start, should she ask you to take your top off? your pants? — maybe she should just ask you to go completely naked. she settles on the little top, however.

you lift the fabric up slowly, but you do it out of nerves. as much as ellie wants it off, she lets you take it slow. you peel it off, exposing your skin inch by inch— do you even know how bad you’re teasing her right now? “ah, fuck” ellie groans out. when the shirt meets the top of your head, it gets stuck there for a second. you giggle nervously, your lacey bra on full display, and ellie considers just leaving you there to struggle by yourself. if your eyes are covered by the material, maybe you won’t notice how hard she’s staring. “need some help there, babe?” she teases as she leans back on her elbows. your laugh is muffled, and ellie chuckles. how are you so goddamn sexy and adorable at the same time? after ten whole seconds of struggling, ellie lifts it up for you. “there, good girl… wasn’t that hard, right? just needed my help?” she teases, and god is she mean— that little twinkle in her now much darker green eyes making you feel like your ears are about to melt off.

swiftly, ellie begins planting soft kisses all over your collarbones. her hand isn’t touching your breasts quite yet, but it’s hovering on top of them, and then you realize— she’s waiting for your approval, for your yes. you put your hands around her neck and push her forward, which makes her hands land on top of your breasts. ellie moans as soon as she feels them, and even though they’re covered by fabric — the lace is thin and she can feel your hardening nipples. she runs her thumb over the swollen buds and you shiver. “knew you’d be sensitive…” she murmurs to herself against your skin. “what did… uh, what did you say?”, you stutter, and then she looks up at you. “said…” she flicks it and you buck your hips. “fuck… knew you’d be sensitive”

she knew… you’d be? “you’ve, uh… thought about this before?” — and ellie chuckles, fully laughs nearly. if you only knew how many times she’s thought about this you’d probably crumble like a danish biscuit. “too many times” ellie confesses, and she almost gets too embarrassed to admit, but she swears she can feel a little wet patch on her jeans so she knows you must have thought about this as well, perhaps more than she has — but not likely. “i have too” you murmur shyly, and there it is.

“oh, really?” she asks, kissing right in between of your tits and making you jolt. if her lips feel this good on your chest… your eyes roll back to the top of your head. “so you’re just as filthy, huh?”, her right hand lands on your ass with the smallest smack, she knows she could make it hurt if she wanted to (and she does), but not yet. you jump and squeal, and in a random burst of confidence — “m’filthier…” you whisper.

with that, ellie grunts and takes your tits in her palms, she kneads the swollen flesh, pushing both of your breasts together and kisses right between the formed cleavage. “bet you’re filthier…” she whispers, opens her mouth so her tongue can stick out and lick between your cleavage line. when she does so, she brings her hand to your back and unclasps your bra with just her two fingers. she lets it cascade down, and she notices how shy you get, trying to bring your hands to cover yourself up. ellie is faster than you, and grabs both of your wrists so you can’t. you’re fully exposed, and ellie’s all pants and heavy breaths. when you try to wiggle yourself out of her grip, your tits move and bounce in the slightest, and ellie’s in trance. “you’re so… fuckin’ pretty” she takes your hard nipple in her mouth and you wince as soon as you feel her pink muscles wetness. “that feel good huh?” she takes your other breast in her hand and toys with it, palms it and making it shake.

with hungry kisses, she lays you down on her bed. you buck your hips forward, and ellie parts your legs with her own. she runs her hands all over your body, and before kissing you again, she stops. “els?” you ask, but ellie ignores you. ellie takes her top off, and fuck you’re nearly drooling. she wasn’t even wearing a bra, and her pretty pink nipples are just as hard as yours. you’re staring, and it’s ellie’s turn to go shy. “you like… ‘em?” she giggles, “shit, nevermind”

you don’t expect it, but ellie grabs the brown paper bag and pulls the moonflower bouquet out of it. “wh… what are you doing?”

“don’t worry about it” — she places the flowers on your chest. for some reason, your ears start to burn. “hold ‘em like that for me?” she asks, and you do. with ellie straddling you, it almost looks like she’s about to pull out a camera and take a picture. “perfect…” she murmurs, “feels like i marked you. s’over for you, you’re mine, y’know that?”

you think you’ve always known. “yours” you whisper coyly, giving her that toothy grin that makes her melt into a puddle. she leans forward, kissing the tip of your nose. “yours who?” she kisses your cheek, and then below it, and then on your jaw. “yours… ellie” — and she must be smiling, because you can feel her lips curl up on your skin.

she kisses you everywhere, on every scar, every blemish, sometimes she bites, but then soothes it with her tongue. you’re growing impatient, the pressure down your panties becoming insufferable. before she unbuttons your pants, she unbuttons her’s. she pulls them down, to sit right below her boxers covered ass. she comes up again, kissing on your tummy, and then — she puts her ear to it. “m’hearing them…” she murmurs. “they're… talking to me, the bees are begging me to fuc—“

“ellie!” you call out, embarrassed. you try and muffle your giggles with your hand but it’s all for nothing, because when she pulls your pants down you gasp. she takes a moment to stare, she could just stare at you forever, she thinks. ellie toys with the waistband of your panties, running her pointer finger on the line. she’s breathing heavy, and you’re nearly wheezing. she bends down to kiss your sopping covered cunt, “oh fu— wait!” you call out.

“i’m… i feel, i’m too shy i can’t…”, ellie smiles and kisses it again. she knows you are. “feels like i might—“ you cry out, feels like you might what?

“explode!”

“you might… but i got you, yeah?” ellie coos, and this time, she doesn’t kiss it, she runs her tongue along the wet patch. she wiggles it from side to side and fuck, she can taste you already and she thinks she might be addicted. your thighs tense and they involuntarily wrap around ellie’s head. she chuckles, and parts them apart. to soothe you, she runs her fingers on your inner thighs and caresses you gently. she kisses your clothed clit and she swears she just felt it pump. “awh… yeah?” she coos again, and it feel like she’s talking to your pussy and not to you. you whimper and drop your head back, and she sucks on it. she’s making the fabric grow nearly sheer with her tongue, and when she sees the outline of your pussy lips she moans deeply. “so wet…” she murmurs to herself, “this all for me, huh? did i do something?” she looks up at you, and your eyes are tightly shut, not even in a place where you feel like you can talk.

you’re fuzzy everywhere.

“can you answer me?” she warns, but chuckles when she sees your back arching as soon as she pulls your soaking wet panties to the side. you hum, “all f— for you”, but ellie doesn’t even hear it, because she’s faced with the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

your glistening folds, the tiny swollen button on top, and your hole practically clenching in and out over nothing and she thinks she might just die. she spits on it with a small “ptu”, watches as her warm saliva cascades down from your clit to your inviting hole. when you clench, your hole absorbs some of her spit and she groans deeply. “fuck that’s cute”

you’re panting, a sweet harmony of “please, ellie!” escaping your lips, and when you accidentally muttered a pathetic, squeaky “puhleaseee!” ellie scratched the idea of slowly, butterfly kissing your cunt till you’re begging and began placing an open mouthed kiss on it.

as her tongue meets your clit for the first time, you clutch your thighs around her head. it happens twice before she forces them open, “quit that, gotta see you” — she warns, and you listen because you just do. “look at me” she instructs, her voice muffled by your sweet pussy in her mouth. her tongue laps up the wetness from your hole, brings it to the top of your clit and sucks. ellie hums, she was right — you really are fuckin’ sweet. “so good…” she murmurs, “doin’ such a good job”, truly, you aren’t even doing anything, just squirming and whimpering under her touch. she moves her tongue around and you swear you just felt her spell something with it, “ellie!” you cry, and ellie’s breath hitches down her throat so she comes out for air and spits on your cunt again. she rubs the wetness with her fingers, then separates your pussy lips with her thumbs so she can see all of you.

you’re just like a flower, she thinks. slowly, she places her tongue on your clit again, but with her fingers on it still, she begins toying with your tight hole. she merely teases it, probing your entrance with her ring finger. “gonna put it inside, that okay?” she asks, but you’re unresponsive, a blabbering mess who doesn’t even remember her own name. ellie chuckles, she could probably do anything she wanted. she slips it inside, feeling your gummy walls squeezing her in, and she moans right when you do. “oh… gosh, ellie!”

“so fuckin’ tight” she whispers, returning her mouth on your clit and suckles deeply. she adds a second finger and now you’re gone, fully consumed by this filthy, pleasure filled monster. “i think m’gonna!” you cry and ellie whimpers out, nearly going cross eyed when she notices you’re toying with your nipples just like she did. “explode?” she breathlessly says. “c… cum!”

“good fuckin’…” she wants to complete that sentence, but instead her tongue dips lower and her hands push your thighs so your knees are pushed up against your chest. it goes even lower, licking your tightest entrance, the one that’s never been explored, not even by your own hands, and when she flicks her tongue upon it and then immediately goes back to your swollen clit you’re—

“cum’… m’cumming! m’cumming!” and yeah you are, ellie thinks, and slaps one of your thighs. you're jolting when you do, her name leaving your mouth like a prayer, and pray as much as you want but heaven will not be the one that accepts you, perhaps it’ll be purgatory, but with her in it it’s more than perfect. “uh huh… cum for me”

when you do, you see stars, and ellie sees moonflowers.

she laps up your saccharine juices, sucking them off her fingers one by one. you’re feeling faint, buzzing everywhere, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. ellie looks up at you, eyelids half shut. when you see the index finger that was deep inside of you just a moment ago, go inside her mouth, her pouty pink lips around them and she’s lapping it up and she’s greedy— you cringe a little. she’s tasting and tasting and humming, “told you… you’re sweet”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x fem!reader

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forever-rogue · 8 months

Note

Hello 💌 it's missing Eddie Munson hours here. Can I request a fic where the reader is the new girl in town? New to Hawkins high and accidentally sits at the hellfire table (cause obviously she doesn't know it's reserved 🤭) and gets all flustered once eddie and the members come up and tell her. All cute and fluffy ☺️

AN | I am weak for this concept! Enjoy 🥰

Warnings | None

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

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You clutched at your tray nervously, looking around the cafeteria in search of some place to sit. Everyone had paired off as soon as the bell for lunch had rang and you were basically left in the dust. Most of the tables were crowded, and no one was even sparing a look in your direction. Tears pricked at the back of your eyes and threatened to well up, but you swallowed them down and started to look for an open spot.

After a few moments of trying to make yourself look small you found a few open spots at one of the tables towards the back. With the most miniscule of sighs to yourself you took the seat at the end, and hunched in on yourself, trying to make yourself as invisible as possible. Upon settling in, you reached into your backpack and pulled out the book you were currently reading and dove in.

It was enough to suck you and before you knew it, you were lost and off in your own little world. But then, you heard a loud throat clear among curious little titters. You startled and snapped your book shut, looking up to find several pairs of wide eyes studying you intently.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to figure out what was going on, “ummm…hello?”

“What are you doing here?” it came out as more curious and probing rather than angry but it caused your heart to thump wildly nonetheless. He looked young and had dark, floppy hair and gangly limbs.

“I-I couldn’t find anywhere else to sit,” you admitted sheepishly, “and no one was here so I thought it was okay. I’m so sorry-”

“Wait, you’re the new girl, aren’t you?” you turned to the boy with the dark curls under a hat; they all seemed kind but nonetheless it all made you nervous.

“Yes,” you offered them a tight-lipped smile “I’m sorry, it’s just…I’ll go so you can have your table back.”

Standing up, you tried to grab your backpack and throw it over your shoulder in order to leave and run as far away as possible. Mortifying wasn’t enough to cover how you were currently feeling. Before you could get very far, you felt a hand wrap around your wrist and stop you from getting away.

“Stay,” the voice was different from any of the others you'd heard so far, honey sweet and warm. You stopped dead in your tracks and turned around to find another stranger looking at you curiously.

"Uhh…" you were dumbfounded as you looked at the handsome boy standing in front of you. He had dark, wild curls and big brown eyes with a soft smile tugging up the corners. You looked down to where he was still looking onto you and noticed several tattoos peeking out of his shirt, "umm…"

"You're new here, right?" He asked as you nodded dumbly. You were shocked that you hadn't noticed him before - he was so different and unique that he stuck out like a sore thumb, "shit sucks. But seriously, c'mon and sit with us."

"Are you sure?" You allowed yourself to look at the boys; they looked just as shocked as you, "I don't want to intrude."

"I insist," he gave your arm a squeeze before letting go and motioning for you to sit back down. One of the boys gasped lightly as you slowly sank down in the hard plastic shirt. The boy sat down to your right, "hope you don't mind hanging out with the freaks and geeks."

"N-no," you relaxed slightly as everyone sat around as well, "not at all."

"I'm Eddie. Eddie Munson," he held his hand and you shook it, offering your name in response. Your entire face felt like it was on fire as you forced yourself to look away, "welcome to the gang!"

Alright, maybe not everyone in Hawkins was terrible.

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After that first afternoon where you met Eddie and his friends, you started to feel more and more comfortable in your school and within yourself. You noticed that Dustin, Mike, and Lucas had seemed floored by how easily Eddie took to you. You didn’t think anything of it, as you had no prior knowledge of any of them to go off of. Nonetheless you appreciated all the kindness that was being thrown your way.

The next day, however, you weren’t sure if you should just automatically go to their table or wait for further invitation. You’d brought your lunch, brown paper bag crinkled from your anxious twisting, and slowly walked to the table at the back. It hadn’t been lost on you that many people seemed to avoid their table, and a few that did walk back made some nasty comments under their breath. It hurt your heart a little bit because these were the only people that bothered to show you any kindness.

“Hey,” Eddie’s voice pulled you from your thoughts and you looked at him with a nervous little smile. He cocked his head to the side to the chair on his right, watching as you slipped into the hard plastic, “surprised to see you here again.”

“O-oh,” your cheeks warmed under his warm gaze and you wished you could sink into the ground and melt away, “should I not be here?”

“No, no, no, I just meant…I’m surprised you’re back,” he gestured vaguely to the rest of the cafeteria and you almost squeaked when you noticed the rings on his hand. They suited him perfectly, “we’re not exactly the most popular crowd around here.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly too popular either,” you shrugged, catching his eye and exchanging a nervous chuckle, “I think you’re the first person to give me the time of day. No one else has even said anything…they all just kind of stare. I feel like a thing more than anything.”

“The people around here…are the worst,” he put his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand as he studied you intently, “tell me about you.”

“I don’t think there’s much to tell,” you shrugged sheepishly, popping a few crackers into your mouth in order to have an excuse to remain quiet.

“Everyone’s got a story,” you felt him nudge your knee with his under the table, “what’s yours? I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

And that was an offer you couldn’t refuse.

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Over the next couple of weeks, you found yourself growing closer to the gang, but more than anything their enigmatic leader.

It hadn't taken long to figure out the hierarchy of Hawkins High School, and it was easy to figure out that you were on the bottom of the totem pole. Compared to the other kids, seeing how they were and interacted with one another, you had no clue being part of the outcasts. They were the only ones that seemed real and genuine.

The worst part of it, or the best depending on how you looked at the situation, was Eddie. You were drawn to him, wanting to know more and more about him, which felt dangerous. You already knew that you'd both be graduating in the spring and then leaving, and that he was on 3rd attempt at his senior year. Those two things in and of itself were more than to make you weary.

The rest of it - Eddie - was wonderful and had you feeling a type of way that wasn't possible. You liked his style, his hair, his personality - all of it. The issue was that you had no clue what he thought about you, or how he felt about you, if anything. Maybe he didn't even think about you at all, besides the hour and change he spent with you at lunch and breaks. That idea didn't settle well in your stomach, even though it had no right to. Eddie was just-

"Everything alright?" You almost slammed your locker shut as you startled at the sound of Eddie's voice. You sighed dramatically before turning around and finding him leaning lazily against another locker. He turned to you and offering you a devilish little smile that caused you to roll your eyes, affectionately of course, “what’s wrong, sunshine?”

“Edward,” you drawled out his name and he groaned at the use of his full name, “you can’t go sneaking up on people like that! I could have had a heart attack!”

“So dramatic,” he tutted, reaching over and tucking your hair behind your ear, “if you weren’t so busy daydreaming, you would have heard me calling out your name. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you blurted out way too quickly, and you swore he gave you a knowing little look, “just…stuff and things.”

“Stuff and things,” he echoed in an amused tone as you nodded, your face warming up. Despite the fact that students were all around you, loud and noisy, it suddenly felt like it was only the two of you. He had a way of doing that, you’d learned, making you feel like you were the only thing that existed when he was with you, “very descriptive.”

“I…umm, nothing in particular,” you weren’t about to admit that you’d been daydreaming about him to his face. Not voluntarily anyway.

“Well, I was wondering if you were free tonight,” your eyes widened in surprise at his question. He laughed - nervously - and ran a hand through his dark curls. It really was such an innocent question, you were absolutely friends by this point, but it felt like it held much more weight.

“Did you need help with homework or Hellfire or…something?” there had to be a logical explanation to all of this. Surely….right? Right?

“No,” wrong. Very wrong.

“Oh…what is it then?” you squeaked at him and he grimaced for a moment. He was definitely nervous.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go see a movie and made get pizza or something after?” he was biting the inside of his cheek, finding the dirty laces of his Reeboks so interesting suddenly. Eddie Munson didn’t do dates; he didn’t get asked on them and he didn’t ask anyone else. Usually it was only girls that he dealed to that wanted to hook up, but those were quick, illicit affairs never to be spoken of again. But with you…everything had felt different right from the start.

When you remained silent for a few moments, he started to panic but then you opened and closed your mouth a few times, “j-just the two of us?”

“Yeah.”

“Like a…date?”

“Yes?” he allowed himself to steal a peek at your face and when he saw nothing but exuberant joy on your face he relaxed, “yes.”

You gnawed on your bottom lip for a moment before slowly nodding in response, your entire face felt like it was on fire, “no one’s ever asked me on a date before.”

“What?!” he turned to you now fully, pure shock and confusion on his face, “you’re not serious!”

“Eddie,” you were laughing now, a beautiful sound that went straight to his heart and often was the soundtrack of his own daydreams, “I’m being serious! No one’s even really looked at me that way.”

“Well, everyone has been so very wrong,” emboldened, he put his hand on your face and gently brushed his thumb over your cheek, “and in a way I’m glad for that because it meant I got to be the first to do it.”

“Hmm,” you hummed softly before gently wrapping your fingers around his wrist, “and to answer your question, yes, I am free. For you, I’m always free.”

“Wow,” you weren’t sure if he was talking to himself or to you, but it was endearing either way, “great - perfect. Umm, can I pick you up at seven?”

“I’ll see you at seven,” you confirmed softly, heart beating so wildly in your chest that you marveled at the fact that it wasn’t bursting through your ribcage, “don’t be late, Edward.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sunshine,” he grinned in response, “see you at seven!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were ready to go well before seven, and ended up nervously pacing around your bedroom. A slew of clothing was on your bed, as you had undergone several outfit changes before finally settling on a simple pink checkered sundress and sandals. You checked over your hair and makeup so many times you were starting to get sick of your own appearance.

Every time you heard a car driving through the neighborhood, you pulled back the curtain to see if it was Eddie. Which was silly, considering you’d been in his van and knew what it sounded like. But still…the nerves were getting to you.

By the time he actually pulled into your driveway, you had started reading a new book in order to occupy your mind. You’d gotten so lost in it that it took your mother knocking at your door to tell you that your little boyfriend was here. All you managed to do was groan in response as you threw your book to the side and grabbed your bag before running downstairs. Your parents had met Eddie a couple of times already, when he’d come to pick you up for school or drop you off, and surprisingly, they didn’t hate him. They liked him, knowing that the fact that he looked and dressed differently had no bearing on the type of person he was. And Eddie was a good guy, despite what a lot of Hawkins seemed to think.

Once you got downstairs, you found Eddie near the door, standing there nervously with a small bundle of floors in his hand. He looked up as soon as he heard you softly calling his name; his brain practically melted at the sight of you. You were always pretty - the prettiest in his kind - but this was just another level up from that.

“H-hi,” he stammered, holding up his hand in a meek little wave before remembering he had the flowers. You took a few steps closer to him, leaving just a little bit of distance between your bodies, “you look lovely.”

“Thank you,” the two of you exchanged shy smiles, “you look good too, Eddie.”

“Thanks,” his stomach fluttered with butterflies; no one had ever said that to him before, “these are for you.”

“You didn’t have to…they’re so pretty!” you gently took the flowers from him, but before you could stop yourself you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. You stopped when you noticed the pink, glittery gloss print you left, but the two of you giggled as you wiped it away, “want to know something else, Eddie?”

“Tell me,” he trailed after you like a lovesick puppy as you walked to the kitchen to grab a vase for your flowers. He watched your every move like a hawk, noticing how you did everything with gentle reverence; it was the same way you always treated him.

“No one has ever given me flowers before either,” you set them on the counter, admiring how pretty they were, knowing they were from Eddie made them that much better, “you keep surprising me without even knowing what you’re doing.”

“I like surprising you,” he admitted softly, and you vowed in your head then and there that you were doing the same thing for him, “I like seeing that smile on your face.”

“Stop,” you gasped lightly before trying to hide your face in your hands, feeling yourself grow warmer and warmer with each passing moment. He shook his head and gently pulled your hands away so he could look at you, “Eddie!”

“I mean it,” he insisted softly, and you knew that he was being honest. You nodded softly and felt him reach for your hand, “c’mon, I have…well another surprise for you.”

“Another?!”

“Well, either we could go see the movie and then get dinner as planned…or we can go on adventure,” he suggested and you practically lit up, “I figured since it’s Friday and if you’re okay with being out a little late, it could be a lot of fun.”

“And let me guess, I would not be privy to any of these things we’re doing until we’re doing them?” your voice was soft and teasing but Eddie nodded eagerly. How very classic of him, “well, just how am I supposed to say no to that?”

“You don’t….”

“I don’t,” you agreed and Eddie cheered happily, already gently pulling you towards the door. He looked like an eager puppy more than anything and his enthusiasm was infectious.

“Get ready for an evening of excitement, m’lady!” he opened the door and brandished his arm, and all you could was to grin at him. He was such a dork but, you were starting to quickly realize, he was your dork, “you are about to embark on adventure!”

“I couldn’t think of anything better,” and your words made his heart melt, “c’mon m’lord, let’s go!”

At the foot of your steps he paused for a moment to look at you. You grew nervous, but as soon as he leaned in to gently kiss you, everything felt right. You kissed him back before he could pull away and you were both grinning like fools.

You’d never been more glad for sitting in the wrong spot before.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #st

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thef1diary · 4 months

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Little Big Blurb | 3

— Mother’s Day Special

Max and Isabella spoil you with love and breakfast

series masterlist

wc: 1.1k

As you stir awake to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, the sweet scent of pancakes wafts into your room, gently coaxing you from sleep. Blinking away the remnants of dreams, you stretch languidly, relishing the warmth of the cozy cocoon of blankets surrounding you.

You pat the other side of the bed, in hopes of feeling Max's sleeping body, but your hand is met with the softness of the blanket instead. You frown, squinting your eyes, realizing that you're alone in the room.

The realization dawns upon you—it's Mother's Day. Your heart swells with anticipation, and a soft smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you imagine the surprises awaiting you. The only reason you remember the date is because Max and Isabella have tried to be very secretive, conversing quietly at random times throughout the days prior. Unfortunately, Isabella wasn't a good whisperer just yet, and you caught the two words, "Mama's Day," coming out of her mouth.

With a contented sigh, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and slip into your slippers, eager to start the day.

Padding down the hallway, the sound of soft giggles and hushed whispers reaches your ears, filling you with warmth. Entering the kitchen, you're met with a scene straight out of a storybook.

You spot Isabella sitting at the kitchen table with her back faced towards you, as her small fingers hold a crayon while she diligently works on something.

Standing on the opposite side of her, Max beams at you when he sees you, his eyes alight with affection and pride.

In his hands, he holds a tray, filled with all your favourite breakfast foods. Fluffy pancakes adorned with sliced strawberries, a side of crispy avocado toast glistening in the morning light, and a steaming cup of coffee, fragrant and inviting. But it's the single red rose placed delicately in a vase that brings tears to your eyes, a simple yet poignant gesture that speaks volumes of his love and thoughtfulness.

Max places the tray back onto the kitchen table, and nudges Isabella. She quickly turns around to look at you, holding onto something which you realize is a handmade card. Glitter and stickers adorn the card, spelling out ‘Happy Mother's Day’ in vibrant hues.

"Happy Mother's Day, Mama!" Isabella exclaims, her voice filled with unbridled joy as she jumps up from her seat to envelop you in a tight embrace. You return the hug fiercely, feeling an overwhelming surge of gratitude and love for these two incredible souls who have filled your life with so much joy and happiness.

She hands you the card, and once you open it, you find that there's a photo of you and Isabella glued inside. It's an older photo, back when she was just four years old. Her hair was put up into two pigtails, adorned with various clips. You clearly remember this photo, taken from an older digital camera. It was the first time Isabella had asked you to make her hair as such, and you knew that you had to take a photo of it for memories.

Along with the photo, there was a message that was undoubtedly in Max's handwriting since it was cursive. ‘Best Mama Ever.’

"Thank you so much, Bella!" You peppered kisses all over her cheeks until she giggled.

Then, you glance at Max, who watched the interaction between you and your daughter with a warm smile.

"Good morning, beautiful," Max says, his voice husky with emotion as he round the kitchen table and stands in front of you. "We wanted to make today extra special for you."

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you take in the scene before you—the love shining in Isabella's eyes, the warmth radiating from Max's smile. "Thank you, both of you," you whisper, your voice choked with emotion. "This is the best Mother's Day gift I could ever ask for."

Isabella beams at you, her dimpled cheeks rosy with excitement. "We made breakfast all by ourselves, Mama! Well, Maxy helped me flip the pancakes, but I mixed the batter!"

Max chuckles, ruffling Isabella's hair affectionately. "She's quite the chef in training, isn't she?"

You nod, a lump forming in your throat as you realize just how lucky you are to have these two incredible people in your life.

The warmth of the morning sun filters through the kitchen window, casting a golden glow over the room as you gather around the table, a sense of peace and contentment settling over you like a soft blanket. Isabella chatters animatedly about her plans for the day, her excitement palpable as she bounces in her seat, barely able to contain her enthusiasm.

"I want to pick flowers for you, Mama!" Isabella exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "And then we can have a picnic in the park!"

Max leans in closer, his gaze softening as he listens to Isabella's animated tales with rapt attention. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, princess," he says, his voice filled with warmth. "I'm sure Mama would love that."

His love for her is evident in every glance, every smile, and you feel your heart swell with gratitude for the bond they share.

You nod, “yes, we can do that!”

As you tuck into the delicious breakfast spread before you, laughter fills the air, mingling with the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sweet melody of Isabella's giggles. It's moments like these—simple, yet profound—that remind you of the beauty and magic of motherhood, of the love that knows no bounds.

After breakfast, Max suggests a leisurely stroll in the park, a chance to bask in the warmth of the sun and soak in the beauty of nature, along with giving Isabella a chance to pick out the flowers she wanted for you.

"Can we bring sandwiches, Mama?" Isabella asks, her eyes wide with anticipation.

"Of course, sweetheart," you reply, reaching out to ruffle her hair affectionately. "We'll pack all your favorites."

Hand in hand, you make your way to the park, Isabella skipping ahead, her laughter echoing through the air like music. Max walks beside you, his fingers intertwined with yours, a silent promise of love and support that fills your heart with warmth.

As you wander through the park, the world seems to slow down, each moment savored and cherished. Isabella chases after butterflies, completely forgetting about the flowers as her laughter mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves.

In that moment, surrounded by the ones you love most in the world, you realize just how precious life truly is, how every moment is a gift to be treasured and embraced.

Taglist: @keerysfreckles @d3kstar @xjval @hc-dutch @the-untamed-soul @multi-fandom-fan221b @lilymurphy03 @shreks-best-tits @nessacarty1 @ldynblack @lighttsoutlewis @ur-fave-ave @namjoonswaifu @llando4norris @dark-night-sky-99 @majx00 @xoscar03 @wonnou @samantha-chicago @mlioravanfleet

#little big fan fic #thef1diary fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #f1 fluff #f1 imagines #f1 series #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #fluff #f1 blurb #fic series

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livingformintyoongi · 5 months

Text

BTS fic recs

I wanted to do this a while ago, but felt like I hadn't read enough, until I checked my likes and got a shock to the face lol. I wanted to give some recommendations of some fics (and a series) that I quite enjoyed reading, plus leave a small review because I feel like it's very underrated to comment on what you like something (people, comment more, I swear it makes a writer feel so much better than a like). There's the occasional spoiler in the reviews, so I recommend you read it carefully or just skip the comment ^^.

Dawning by @wintaerbaer JJK

summary: He’s never invited into your world during these late night sessions. You always push him away or ignore him. This is new. warnings: heavy depictions of depression and panic attacks, a brief line where taehyung worries oc is s**cidal. I really loved this fic. For a moment I thought it was some kind of two shot or something, but it only has this one part. Still, I felt the author captured the emotions very well. It felt so realistic that even I was worried when Y/N disappeared lol.

Bottle up old love by @wintaerbaer KTH

summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep. warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming. This fic made me remember why I love the exes to lovers trope. I loved seeing Jungkook as a tattoo artist, it's like, I don't know, so him, anyway, I loved it. I just found this account yesterday in the wee hours of the morning and I'm already loving it <3.

Cat-astrophe & Cat-enaries by @dumpywrites MYG

Summary: Your pet cat keeps going to your neighbor’s apartment and it’s a problem. I fell in love with this Yoongi like you have no idea. When I just read the first part I was so eager to keep reading, seriously, I loved it, it deserves so much love.

Two Days by @dumpywrites JJK

Summary: He just wants you to give him two days. He'll take you on a few dates and you'll decided if you actually like him? Or not? I live for Jungkook being simp of the reader, I feel it's so real lol. This fic made me feel so warm inside, it was too cute to read. It's kind of like my comfort fic.

S'more than friends by @borathae MYG

Warnings: subby!Yoongi, switchy!Reader, consumption of beer, so much awkward tension, jealousy, sex in a tent, mutual masturbation, handjob, fingering, making out aye, Yoongi loves her boobs and she loves his butt it’s a win-win, sex while other people are sleeping, public sex, she has a thing for his hands (but what’s new lmao), fluffy post-orgasm talks because I’m soft. I read it a while ago now, but I remember when I did I felt so soft. This Yoongi is just too cute.

Please don't go by @httpjungkookcom JJK

Summary | Jungkook’s never kept anything from you, ever. Not even the time where he tripped and accidentally kicked your dog, or when he fucked the most popular girl in high school and couldn’t make himself cum (poor guy was embarrassed for weeks), or when he accidentally rubbed all of his acceptance letters in your face without realizing. To put it short, Jungkook is an open book to you. So when he suddenly disappears, there’s a lot to question. Even more to question when he finally gets back and won’t tell you anything, going as far to avoid you. You’re on a mission to figure it out, even if it kills you. Index | Jungkook is so smart, but so stupid at the same time. Jungkook is not sly in the slightest. Kind of angst, fighting, arguing, bickering, etc. Criminal activity, it’s a Spider-Man fic. Injuries and mention of blood. College setting and age, reader and Kook share the same major. Some cute fluffy moments in between all of the action. Aunt Yoon is essentially Aunt May in the Marvel story line. Spiderkook, is more needed to read this fic? It was the first one I read about this au and I was WONDERED. God, you can't imagine how much I loved it. I thought it was so cute the way Jk approached reader being in his suit….

Accidental roommates by @jjkeverlast JJK

summary: moving apartments is stressful and difficult enough as it is. all the planning and packing and multiple moments of rearranging furniture; all you crave is peace. yet it seemed like peace was far within reach as the owner of the apartment had left out one tiny crucial detail from the ad — a ripped tattooed adonis, coupled, with a tiny baby daughter will come as your roommate. warnings: second hand embarrassment | jungkook's abs | annoying antics | suppressed feelings | both of them are stubborn and petty (it's gets tiring lmfao) | mentions of past relationships | a lot of time stamps | sexual tension | ft. namjoon 👀 | !constant change of perspective between reader and jungkook. I have a tremendous weakness with dilf, no matter who it is, I just love them. I think this was the first one I read by Jungkook. It was so fun and easy to read that the 14.7k words flew by for me.

Silk & Stones by @taegularities KTH

Summary: “Taehyung was a writer… he was a writer indeed.” Kim Taehyung knows his way around words – they cast a spell on your heart and mind, leave you gasping dangerously fast. Until the mystery behind his persona unveils and his touch, along with his words, becomes a vivid memory. warnings: writer + violinist tae 🥺 who’s a gentleman in the 19th century, brief mention of injuries/a mental institution, misunderstandings, heartbreak, secrets, grief, much poetry (and my attempt at writing a poem, pls spot), much disgoosting fluff, flirting and lots of sexual tension; explicit sexual content: 2 sex(y) scenes, fingering on a boat, choking, teasing, begging, praising, soft dom!tae, big dick!tae, tiddie fondling/sucking, some manhandling, dirty talk, they’re just so cute :((, oral (f. and m. receiving), some masturbation, oc is into neck kisses, some biting, fingering, hair pulling, asking for permission :(, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (it’s the 19th century...), aftercare; there’s quite some angst ok; lmk if i forgot smth !! This was a work of art for me. I felt so immersed in the story, so confused by the time changes and everything surrounding Taehyung, but I loved it, one of the best stories I've read of Taehyung since I joined tumblr.

17 going on 27 by @hansolmates JJK

summary; one second, you’re sobbing at prom because the most popular guy in school dumps you due to your relationship being a little prank to break your heart. the next? you’re a creative editor at Ego, the hottest young adult fashion magazine. as you try to figure out what’s the deal with this sudden time skip into adulthood, you come across relationships and friendships that are made to be cherished and made to be broken. genre/warnings; fluff, crack, future enemies to lovers, teenage and adulthood angst, time skips from high school!au to late twenties!au, 13 going on 30!au, all your romantic movie tropes come to life! a really big mess honestly, various movie and music references, mentions of sex, use of alcohol, everyone give jin and jimin a big ol hug, language, a surprise guest from the queen of england. I love adaptations, especially ones that add their own touch, and the writer did it so well. She made me hate Jungkook, and then love him, and then hate him again, in the end I ended up resenting him, I wanted reader to stay with Jin lol, but I still loved it. Definitely my favorite part was having Jimin as a best friend, I loved watching him take on Jungkook in the car. We all need a friend like him.

Hot Bot by @httpjeon JJK/PJM/KTH/JHS

JJK: You order a sex robot online after getting a coupon for half off. however, there’s something strange about yours. PJM: Fear is primal and causes one to make stupid decisions. KTH: Your parents have a gift for you, however, there’s been a mistake. JHS: As a product tester, you have one of the most sought after temporary positions in Hot Bot Inc. This is a series that has smut, I think the name gives it away. It's rather sad that the writer is on hiatus, but he left the gems of his works open to the public. The series is pretty good, I fell in love with Jungkook (and Yoongi kskjdsksjds). Highly recommended.

The proposal by @hansolmates JJK

summary; Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. genre/warnings; the proposal!au, fake marriage au, enemies to friends(!!!), friends to lovers, bouts of flangst, dry humping, slight blood but not too bad, lang, alcohol, poor jjk discovers he has the ability to feel emotion, poor y/n is in the middle as always. I was looking for an adaptation of this movie for so long that when I found this one I almost cried with emotion. I LOVED the movie and the concept it had, and I was so happy to read this fic that captures that very romcom essence that the movie has. I loved it.

Marshmallows and report cards by @untaemedqueen KTH

Warnings: Impreg Kink, Marking, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Birthday Sex, Spitting, Begging, Praise, Fellatio, Face Fucking, Big Dick!Tae, Multiple Orgasms, Unprotected Sex, Possessive!Tae, Cock Warming, Creampie. I already confessed, this kind of fics get to me. I remember reading it and melting with the ending. I read it a long time ago, so I can't give a longer opinion, but I do remember that I loved it and came out internally squealing after I finished it.

Orange tulips by @kainks JJK

Summary: You’d remember Jungkook with every life you lived. Only he’d never remember you, never recall how your fates were written in the stars since the beginning of time. Genre: Angst. Fluff. Light Smut. The anxiety and helplessness I felt reading this fic are on another level. This scarred me, I read it once and I was never the same person again. It was wonderful, I felt so many things and I was so nervous during the whole reading that I almost didn't even realize when it was over. It is a very enjoyable fic.

What if I love you too much? by @taleasnewastime

Summary: Jungkook. It’s only a name you learn after your son kicks his ball over the fence. Before that you only knew him as the hot new neighbour who mows his lawn topless. And though you have no intention of getting to know him anymore than that, inevitably you do. You don’t necessarily fall, it’s too slow for that, but you definitely develop feelings you don’t intend to feel. Because you know men like him, and you know that whatever you’re feeling, he’s probably not feeling the same. All the same, however hard you try, you can’t help yourself. Warnings: Single mum, small fights, explicit sexual content, oral (f receiving), safe penetrative sex, reader thinks Jungkook is cheating/playing the field, angst, but also fluff, child gets injured (though not seriously), talks of cuts and a small amount of blood. This fic left me feeling bad, it even made me question some future decisions regarding my relationship with my future partner and the necessary communication that must be had in a relationship from the beginning, especially if there is a child in the middle. It was something I really enjoyed reading, and even though I had my internal dilemmas with Jungkook, the drabbles in the story helped me a lot to let go of my grudge (I swear I have nothing personal with him sksjkajskajsj).

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mythunderstorm · 1 year

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Baby fever | LN4

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Something short and fluffy while I work on a Lando request🫶🏼

summary: Babysitting Landos niece made you both wonder how it would be to have a baby of your own.

warnings: well uh, a baby HAHA and wanting to get preggooo. Think that’s it? Lol idk

masterlist

Summer break meant calming down, relaxing and spending time with your or Landos family. You were currently on vacation, with Landos family tagging along. Right now everyone is sprawled out in the living room of the cozy house he rented. Lando sitting on the floor with his niece Mila, playing and making stupid faces at her. Not gonna lie, the baby fever is definitely hitting you hard right now, your focus on Lando and baby Mila entirely.

It is torture. The scene playing infront of you is probably the cutest thing you've ever seen and never ever in your life did you want to have a baby of your own so badly.

Mila is laughing hysterically while Lando continues making even more stupid faces at her. At one point, he even starts babbling gibberish and Mila laughs throwing random sounds back at her uncle. He has a tiny toy car in his hands, one Mila seems to like very much. Slowly you approach both and as soon Lando notices you he gives literal puppy eyes, face screaming 'why is she so adorable'.

"How's it going Uncle Lando?" you smile, sitting down next to your boyfriend and his niece.

Lando looks very proud of himself, yet he doesn't really answer. Instead he simply gives you a quick kiss on the cheek, pulling you closer into his side to give you some cuddles.

"...she's adorable" you whisper, absolutely smitten with baby Mila.

"i know." he whispers back, wrapping his arms around you tightly and pressing his cheek to your shoulder. Suddenly, Mila pulls on your shirt, wanting your attention as well.

"Hey little Mila" you say softly, taking her into your arms. As soon as she's with you, her face lights up and she gives you the most adorable grin, with a tiny tooth. Lando just looks at you with a huge grin on his face. You give her small kisses all over her face, muttering against her skin "who's such a cute baby, hm? Who? Youuuuu!"

Mila coos and laughs, enjoying the attention you're giving her. Lando joins in laughing and then starts speaking baby language at her, making the little princess giggle even more.

Little do you know, Landos brother and wife are watching you three from afar. They have a smile on their face, happy their daughter is having such a great time with her uncle and his girlfriend. They can't help but think that you two would be amazing parents.

Suddenly Lando stops, getting a bit more silent. You can feel his gaze on you and for the first time since you joined them his attention is entirely on you instead of the baby. "What?" Your tone is soft yet questioning. Lando blushes. "You.. you wanna..?"

You have a faint idea of what he wanted to say based on his expression. You can't help but smile. "I think so..." you whisper and look back at Mila.

Lando pulls you closer so that you're seated on his lap. He looks at you and then back at Mila. A soft grin appears on his face as he softly strokes your hair out of your face. He puts his other arm around you and when he starts to speak again, his tone is sincere and warm "Let's do it."

Your eyes grow wide, big smile on your face. "Really??"

Lando nods his head. He's about to say something else when Mila suddenly takes the toy out of your hands and waves it infront of you, making you laugh. Your boyfriend quickly takes the opportunity to kiss you. He's so close to you and you take a moment to admire his beautiful face.

You sign, playing with a curl that fell to his forehead. "I really want a mini Lando. Your curls and your eyes and ugh- everything to be honest.

Lando only smiles at your words, kissing your forehead. He tries to pull you even closer but baby Mila is having none of it. At least that's how it seems to you and her uncle, as Mila starts pulling on his legs, demanding his attention once again. You giggle at the sight. "I think your attention is required, Uncle Lan."

'Uncle Lan' sighs and rolls his eyes playfully. He kisses your forehead again before taking Mila back into his arms and continues to play with her and makes her laugh. "...you're gonna be an amazing dad" you whisper lovingly.

Your boyfriend only blushes again, clearly touched by your words. With Mila in one of his arms, he places the other one behind him to lean back a little, simply staring into your eyes for a few seconds before he suddenly tells you how much he loves you. You smile, slowly placing your hand on his cheek, caressing it lovingly. "I love you too. So much."

You guys may still be young, only babysitting for now but both of you are well aware that the other person is the one you want to spend the rest of your lives with. You can't wait for Lando to be the father of your children, marrying him, being a family. He's your home. And you are his.

#lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #lando norris #ln4 #ln4 imagine #f1 #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #uncle lando #lando and mila

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lvlyghost · 1 year

Note

I love your stories so much I can't 😫😍😍❤️

Could you maybe write a angst to fluff ghost x reader story where the reader gets injured badly while ghost is on her side the whole time in the hospital while she is unconscious and he's having breakdowns and anxiety and all really angsty stuff and when she wakes up she comforts him and all is fluffy and maybe a bit smutty 🤭

No More Stars Left to Count

PAIRINGS: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: Few things made Simon break down. Almost losing his girl takes a toll on him.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

TW: Smut! MDNI! Angst, hurt, comfort. Injuries. Panic attacks. Grammar mistakes just the usual... Do not read if you're under 18.

A/N: I'm actually quite happy with this one🥹🩷 Enjoy Anon! This is my first time posting smut and in another language so sorry in advance if there are mistakes! Corrections are appreciated ✨🐝

Masterlist✨

Simon's head rests on his left hand, his eyes bore into your fragile body. Several machines are attached to you, helping you breathe, pumping meds into your system. He doesn't deserve you by any means. He doesn't deserve your trust, your laughter, your body.

All he can think about— as his brown orbs can't find the strength to look away— is how miserably he had failed to protect his team. To protect you. It's been twelve days and you still don't show any signs of waking up; it wasn't abnormal for you to not wake up. The damage inflicted to your body had been great. Simon thought for a painful moment he had lost you for good. The woman he cared for. The woman he utterly loved.

He swallows hard.

There aren't many things that'd scare him. He's simply seen too much. But this? Was this truly his destiny? To lose everyone he loved? His family and now you?

He inhales sharply, his free hands traces your inert hand, tracing soft patterns on your pale skin littered with cuts and bruises. That very hand he adores to hold when you were together. He blinks, memories from your last night together flooding his brain as he sinks further down the chair, adjusting the hoodie over his head.

The night before leaving for the mission in Romania.

"No, wait look Simon! Give it to me!" You chuckle, under the covers, both of your bodies remain warm. It wasn't unusual that Simon couldn't sleep so he'd often come into your room and spend the night with you. "There." You pointed out. Your hand and his hand stretched out in front of you, slowly you touch his, spreading out your palms comparing hands. Your eyelashes flutter at the mere sight of his big calloused hand outsize yours, completely engulfing it. You splay out your fingers until they're intertwined.

His breath catches in his throat. He loved how small you were compared to him. He wanted to protect you from everything even from himself, but you had refused to leave him when he tried to push you away.

"Come here." He grabs your arm pining you down and under his gargantuan body. You squeal, laughing at the sudden change of position; Simon sets his body between your legs. Your arms rest on his sides, layers of muscle tensing under your touch. Tilting your head back, eyes meet the dark sky outside the window.

"Look at them." You mumble, Simon lays a kiss on your neck taking advantage. He loves the feeling of your steady pulse on his lips. "The stars are so bright tonight." He hums absentmindedly, hands coming to grip his blond locks.

There's a fire burning in your belly and the ache between your thighs when you feel the tent forming through his grey sweatpants.

"Need you, love." He grumbles. His hands undress your bottom half making you gasp.

"Simon..." soft pink lips kiss your body. Your chest, your stomach... until he's lost between your legs. Mouth lapping at your wetness. You squirm under his touch, it's intoxicating. It feels like you might combust. The fire running through your veins, the goosebumps on your sensitive flesh as you clench around nothing. Unable to resist it you grab him by the arms. "You know what I need." In the blink of an eye two bodies intertwined moving desperately chasing the sweetest end together. He murmurs soft encouraging words in your ear that sent shockwaves through your veins, Simon couldn't possibly be more deep inside you, hitting that sensitive spot that made you want to scream, nails digging on his back, surely leaving red marks that he would proudly show tomorrow.

The purple and orange that tinges the sky outside filters through the window, casting an ethereal display of colors around this room that hides away the few moments you get to spend with him as you finish together; feeling impossibly more in love with him.

"It's clearing already." You point out. Simon looks up from your eyes, albeit reluctant to miss the beautiful shade of your orbs. "No more stars left..."

He kisses your forehead, then bumps his nose against you before he finds your mouth.

"There'll be plenty more to count tomorrow, sweetheart. I promise."

But you're not counting them as he promised the night before. Instead he's shouting orders like an enraged man. Heart beating out of his chest, you were so close to the evac point with your squad. Five minutes ago he had squeezed your arm and kissed your temple before urging you to get in the land rover from the SAS. Only to watch it blow seconds later. His heart stopped and then the ringing in his eardrums.

It was an ambush.

And as the rest covered him he rushed to you.

The blood. Crimson blood all over the bodies. He knew what this meant.

"Sergeant!" He forces his body to move, dragging you by the straps of your combat vest to take cover behind one of the vehicles. He knows he shouldn't be moving you like that, but right now he can't think of anything else than getting you out of there... "Bloody fucking hell!" He roars.

What was that feeling, like his soul was being ripped apart...?

Releasing a shaky breath, Simon squeezes your hand once again careful not to hurt you. The IV in your hand too foreign. It's too much. The sight, the memories of the vehicle flying through the sky...

The pit in his stomach grows, a wave of nausea and uneasiness hitting him all of the sudden. Simon stands on wobbly legs, taking one last glance at you he steps out the ICU. Crouching down he yanks the balaclava from his face. Why was his chest so tight, and his vision filled with blackness? The incessant ring on his ears is real. Fucking real. It was supposed to be a nightmare... this thing pulling him down.

"Come back to me baby." He pleads in a hushed tone although he knows you can't hear him. Simon lifts his hands to find support on the wall in front of him. He breathes as much air as he can through his nose, tries to blink away the black dots.

"Lieutenant Riley?" A feminine voice wafts through the empty hallway reaching him. He holds out a shaky finger without even looking at her.

"Leave..." he warns.

"Sir? I...-" the nurse hesitates.

"Now!" He barks.

She scurries away but not before calling the doctors and the Captain to the med wing.

Simon stays there until his ragged breathing evens, he then goes back to your room, deep down he hopes—prays— that your eyes will open when you hear him. But you don't. He sits again on the couch where he's tried to sleep, tossing the mask away from him. His throat bobs, what's happening to him? It burns. The door creaks open revealing a concerned John who looks at him in disapproval.

"This isn't going to help anyone Simon." He scolds him.

"What do you want Price?"

"You need to sleep. And for... just for the love of God eat something son."

"Not until I know she'll be fine."

Price sighs closing the door behind him.

"She wouldn't want this." Even then, Price doesn't want to look at you. This had taken a toll on everyone. But Simon wasn't handling it well. Rubbing his eyes he scoffs. "Come on go get some rest I can stay."

"No." Both men stare at each other not wanting to back down. "I'm on leave you don't get to tell me what to do Price."

John crosses his arm.

"I'm worried Simon. I want her to be okay too. We all do."

Simon's jaw clenched, hands balling into fists. They don't really know. They don't know, can't comprehend the extent of his love for you.

"What if this was your girl? Would you leave her fucking side hm?"

A tense pause electrifies the air as the two glare at each other, oblivious to the other person whose eyes are tearing.

The beeping sound increases as your heart rate goes up. Two pair of eyes snap to the sound. Your hand tries to snatch the oxygen from your face, but Simon darts out with dread plastered all over his features. You faintly hear John calling the doctors.

"Easy, love. Easy..." he soothes you. Stopping your hands from moving. Your body is in too much pain, tears slip down your cheeks, once again Simon grits his teeth. If he could he'd take it all away. "Don't force yourself you're..." he trails off. "You're hurt."

It feels like you're body is being torn apart. The drugs are slowly leaving your system.

"What happened?" your croak out, throat dry and inflamed. He sits bringing the glass of water to your lips not before removing for a brief moment the oxygen mask. You take a small sip and thank him with a weak smile.

"Ambush." He explains. Hating that he can see the images all over again in the back of his mind. "Thought I lost you."

More tears well in your eyes, as weak as you feel you reach out your hands tracing his jawline and cheekbone. He closes his eyes, and finally breathes again, with you touching him he feels alive again. He wants nothing more than to go home with you.

"How many nights..."

"Twelve..."

The doctors rush in but before they drag him away you say:

"That's a lot of counting we've missed."

A press of his lips on your forehead, a silent promise to never let anything happen to you ever again. Even if it mean giving his own life for yours. He would do it any day. Better him than you.

"We've got the rest of our lives, love."

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callsigns-haze · 4 days

Note

Can you write something with Y/n and Tyler going baby #2 shopping and it's just cute and fluffy with them and Hazel and maybe add some spice but not when Hazel is there hehe. It can be anything! thanks.

Another 2

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Tyler and Y/N take their daughter Hazel baby shopping as they prepare for the arrival of their twin boys, savoring a day filled with love, laughter, and the anticipation of expanding their family.

Warning: Brief suggestive content and fluffy family moments.

The morning sun streamed through the nursery windows, casting a warm, golden glow over the room as Y/N and Tyler stood side by side, watching their three-year-old daughter, Hazel, play with her stuffed animals. The room was a blend of pinks and blues, the latter added in preparation for the twin boys who would be arriving soon. Hazel’s giggles filled the air as she carefully arranged her toys in a row, her little brow furrowed in concentration.

Y/N rested a hand on her growing belly, where the twins were nestled, and exchanged a smile with Tyler. “Hard to believe we’re doing this all over again,” she said softly.

Tyler wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “Yeah, except this time it’s double the fun,” he joked, looking down at Hazel with a grin.

Hazel, noticing her parents talking, looked up with bright eyes. “Are the babies coming today?” she asked with the innocent curiosity of a child.

“Not today, sweetie,” Y/N said with a gentle smile. “But soon. We need to make sure we have everything ready for them first.”

“Which is why,” Tyler added, crouching down to Hazel’s level, “we’re going on a little shopping adventure today. You ready to help us pick out some cool stuff for your brothers?”

Hazel’s face lit up at the prospect of an adventure. “Yes! I want to pick the toys!” she declared, bouncing on her feet.

Tyler laughed and scooped Hazel up into his arms. “Alright, little one. Let’s get going.”

The baby store was a whirlwind of colors and options, from tiny onesies to double strollers designed for twins. Y/N held Hazel’s hand as they strolled through the aisles, while Tyler pushed the cart, which was quickly filling with essentials.

“Oh, look at these!” Y/N exclaimed, holding up two identical sets of tiny shoes. “One for each of the boys. Aren’t they adorable?”

Tyler leaned in to take a closer look, grinning. “We should get a matching pair for Hazel too. Can’t leave her out.”

Hazel, who had been eyeing a display of soft blankets, tugged on Y/N’s hand. “Mommy, can we get this for the babies?” She pointed to a light blue blanket covered in little stars.

Y/N smiled down at her. “That’s perfect, Hazel. You’ve got great taste.”

Hazel beamed with pride as Tyler added the blanket to the cart. “You’re going to be the best big sister ever,” Tyler said, giving Hazel’s hair a playful ruffle.

As they moved on to the furniture section, Hazel’s excitement only grew. She eagerly pointed out cribs, rocking chairs, and anything else that caught her eye. Tyler and Y/N laughed as they indulged her suggestions, knowing that Hazel was taking her new role as a big sister very seriously.

After a while, Hazel started to tire out, her earlier enthusiasm giving way to the inevitable crankiness that came with being three years old. Noticing her yawns and rubbing eyes, Tyler suggested they take a break.

“There’s a little café just outside,” he said, adjusting Hazel in his arms as she started to get heavier with sleepiness. “How about we grab something to eat and let Hazel rest for a bit?”

Y/N agreed, and soon they were sitting at a small table in the café, Hazel nestled in Tyler’s lap with a piece of toast in hand. She was quiet now, her eyes drooping as she leaned against her dad, content to let him do most of the eating.

Y/N sipped her iced tea, watching them with a smile. “You know, it’s hard to believe we’re going to have two more little ones soon. It feels like just yesterday we were bringing Hazel home.”

Tyler glanced up at her, his eyes warm. “Yeah, and now look at us. We’re pros at this whole parenting thing.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” Y/N teased, reaching across the table to take his hand. “Twins are going to be a whole new adventure.”

Tyler squeezed her hand gently. “Yeah, but we’ve got this. And we’ve got Hazel to help us out, right?” He looked down at their daughter, who had already started to doze off.

Y/N laughed softly. “If Hazel stays awake long enough, that is.”

By the time they returned home, Hazel was sound asleep in her car seat, clutching the starry blanket she had picked out for her brothers. Tyler carried her inside and gently laid her down on the couch, covering her with a throw blanket. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her little face peaceful and serene.

Y/N set the shopping bags down in the living room and joined Tyler by the couch, watching Hazel sleep. “She’s going to be such a good big sister,” Y/N murmured, leaning against Tyler.

“Yeah, she is,” Tyler agreed, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s waist. “And you’re going to be an amazing mom to three little ones. I don’t know how you do it.”

Y/N smiled up at him. “Because I have you,” she said simply. “We’re a team, remember?”

Tyler leaned down and kissed her softly, his hand resting on her belly where their twins were growing. “Always,” he whispered against her lips.

They stood there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, their future bright and full of love. They knew there would be challenges ahead—sleepless nights, double the diapers, and the chaos of raising three children—but they also knew they would face it all together.

And that was all that mattered.

Later that evening, after Hazel was tucked into bed, Tyler and Y/N found themselves in the nursery, sorting through the day’s purchases. As they arranged the tiny clothes and set up the new furniture, the reality of what was coming began to sink in.

Tyler, always the planner, was checking off items on a list, making sure they hadn’t missed anything. Y/N watched him with a smile, loving how dedicated he was to their growing family.

When the nursery was finally set, Tyler turned to Y/N, a playful glint in his eye. “You know, we haven’t had much time to ourselves lately,” he said, his voice low and suggestive.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “And whose fault is that, Mr. Owens?”

Tyler stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him. “I’d say it’s our combined efforts,” he teased, his hands sliding to her hips. “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Y/N laughed softly, looping her arms around his neck. “Neither would I. But I do think we deserve a little alone time.”

Tyler grinned and leaned down, capturing her lips in a slow, lingering kiss. “How about we make the most of it, then?” he murmured against her lips.

Y/N’s heart fluttered, and she nodded, letting Tyler lead her out of the nursery and toward their bedroom. Tonight, they’d savor the quiet, the closeness, and the love they shared, knowing that soon, their lives would become even fuller, even more chaotic, and even more wonderful.

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

@katiemcrae

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens fanfic #tyler owens #twisters fanfiction #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens smut #dad!tyler owens

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redbullgirly · 8 months

Note

Hi! Can you write something about Lando x reader where she wants to wait till marriage to have sex and how'd he react to this? I'll leave the rest to you, it doesn't have to be a whole fic, maybe just a small blurb. Thank you <3

SAND AND CONFESSION [LN4 oneshot]

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: You and Lando have been going out for few weeks, maybe months now. While you're enjoying each other's company on a beach with sunset behind your backs, you decide to tell him you want to wait with sex till marriage.

Word Count: 0.8k

Warnings: English isn't my first language and I honestly didn't write for a while, so if some sentences are kinda weird or sloppy, I'm very sorry! Don't be afraid to correct me if you find some errors.

Author's Note: Hi Anon, thanks for the request! I hope you and everybody else will like this shorter fic I wrote based on it. I'll appreciate likes, comments, follows, reblogs and any other form of support! :)

The sand beneath your feet was still warm, though the sun had almost set behind the fluffy clouds on the horizon. You ran up the beach, trying to get as far from the sea as you could, before the curly-haired man could throw you into the waves, messing up your hair. He followed you, laughing and almost tripping, which was probably the only reason you actually managed to escape to the laid out blanket with your things and bags.

You laid on it, your chest covered in droplets of salty water heaving with uneven breaths. Some sand probably stuck to your wet skin, but you didn't mind.

“Y/N, you left me there all alone!” Lando faked a pout, standing above you with crossed arms and a silly smile.

“Yeah, 'cause you tried to drown me!” you fired right back and stuck out your tongue.

He shook his head and stretched out his arm, helping you stand back up. Then, without any warning, he slapped your ass. You squealed his name and tried to punch him, but he dodged effortlessly. May his fast reflexes be damned.

It was getting darker by every minute, the sun now nearly gone from the evening sky. Shadows slowly crept to the beach, and you shivered in the cool air. Lando, the caring boy he was, instantly noticed the goosebumps popping up all over your body. You were both still just in your swimsuits, and it was getting cold.

He bent down to the bag you took to the beach with you and took out a big towel. “C'mere baby,” he mumbled, and when you took a step towards him, he wrapped you and himself up in it.

Suddenly, you didn't feel cold at all — quite the opposite, really. Lando's firm body was pressed against you, his hands around your waist and faces impossibly close to each other. You could feel his warm breath, smelling after the vanilla milkshake you drank at a cozy café before going to the private beach.

One of his big hands cupped your cheek, your eyes locked in with his intense blue stare. Lando and you were going out for a few weeks, even months now. You didn't put any label on it, maybe too afraid of the feelings that bubbled in your stomach every time that exact expression appeared in his eyes. The one of pure adoration and happiness, as if you'd give him the Moon. And honestly? If he ever asked, you probably would. Or at least try.

As if the boy could read your thoughts, his smile deepened, and he finally closed the remaining distance between you two. His lips felt soft and hard against yours at the same time, asking and demanding all at once. Lando was always careful at the start, but as soon as your body relaxed, and you gently bit his bottom lip, the kiss heated up pretty quickly.

He moaned into your mouth and his hold on your waist tightened. This wasn't your first time making out, but it never felt so intense, so breathtaking before. You struggled to keep pace with him, though you'd lie if you said you didn't like it. However, when his hands slipped under the towel that was still wrapped around your bodies, and tugged onto your bikini straps, you pulled away. Your cheeks were flushed, lips swollen and hair messy.

He stopped, furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and looked at you questioningly, eyes wide. You realized Lando thought he did something wrong, again. And that made you feel even worse than before.

“What's wrong, babe?” he asked in a quiet voice, his hand still cupping the side of your cheek. You wanted to look down, ashamed and not knowing how to say what had to be said, but Lando didn't let you. “You can tell me Y/N. I won't be angry or anything.”

It was his assurance and sweet voice that caused you to sight and swallow thickly.

“I… there's something I need to tell you,” you whispered. He just nodded, listening curiously. “So, I feel weird saying it, but… I never actually… you know.” You point between you and him. “I never did this before,” you confess, not able to look him into the eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “That's no problem at all-” You put your finger on his lips, silently asking him to be quiet.

“And,” you say, making him know that's not all you wanted to say, “I don't want to. Not until marriage.”

Now he seems surprised, taken aback even. It's clear he's processing your words for a moment, while you almost faint from the nerves. You're worried he won't understand. That now, when you told him he won't get what most men want, he'll break up whatever you two have going on.

But he does nothing like that. No, he nods slowly, a little smile tugging at the corners of his lips. A smile that soon turns into the grin you know so well by this point. And then, Lando pulls you closer and whispers in your ear: “Well, good thing I plan on marrying you one day.”

And even though he says it in a joking voice, wanting to lighten up the atmosphere, you know right there and then that deep down, he means it.

THE END

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calliopesdiary · 4 months

Note

i’m your biggest fan in the whole wide world please write a xaden riorson x reader where she is injured…she was attacked in her room and was cut bad. she doesn’t have anyone to go to and the healers are on a off campus trip so she dosebt know what to do…she just killed a guy and is now bleeding wondering the halls praying to find help. Behind her she hears the voice that woild bring shivers down the spines of any cadet…xaden (who she is terrified of and doesn’t trust) her wing leader .

tysm for requesting, lovely! i recently finished this book <3

I'm Tired.

xaden!riorson x fem!reader

a/n; first time writing for xaden! woo! and you basically take violets place (:

contents; cussing, xaden being mean, reader gets injured, big buff scary big buff dragon man, fluffy fluffy fluff fluff

you clutched your bleeding abdomen with agony, stumbling your way to the lavatory with blood pooling out of your stomach.

and you couldn't see.

you were attacked unexpectantly by an unbonded cadet who wanted to murder you for your dragons bond.

that's how you ended up here, bleeding out and desperately searching for a beacon of light.

and in this case, yours was Xaden Riorson, your stern wingleader.

he leaned against the wall, his toned check bare and his arms crossed over it.

"what the fuck happened, Y/N?!"

he rushed to your bleeding side, still keeping up his stoic act. he wrapped his arms protectively around you as you attempted to walk, lifting you up off your feet and placing you onto the basin.

"get the fuck away from me-!" you didn't trust Xaden, he was the last person who you wanted to help you.

"y/n, calm the fuck down."

"X-Xaden i can't fucking see, i'm scared."

you whined in pain as he flipped you over onto your back.

"you didn't answer me."

"t-these people c-came into my room- and they stabbed me and- everything hurts and i can't see."

you were clearly having a panic attack, at the very worst time.

"y/n, you need to calm down. i'll help you, you need to calm down."

you breathed heavily, the anxiety bubbling into you hurt worse than the open wounds across your entire body.

"stay with me, y/n, stay with me."

"i-i'm trying."

he gave you a sleeping drought to stitch you up, his arms still tightly holding onto you.

the ointment stung on your wounds, as you slowly woke up.

"o-ow." you grunted, trying to shift over.

"stop movin' god damnit."

was xaden riorson... man handling you?

he patched you up, you still couldn't really see but he had assured you it would be long until you could again.

"how do you feel?"

he lifted you up off the floor and onto your knees.

"Tired."

"it'll wear off."

"i'm sorry.." you felt hot tears flood up the vision you had left, and you collapsed into his chest.

"hey.. hey.."

you'd never seen him this sweet before, he almost seemed like a different person.

"it's okay, it's okay, you're safe."

"i- i killed someone, t-there was blood, everywhere.."

"you'll get used to it, it's okay."

you stayed like that for a while, petting your hair with his giant hand.

sobbing wasn't your favorite past time, but you'd spent most of your time doing so since attending Basgiath War College.

"baby, baby, you're okay now." his voice was so soothing.

once you'd regained your vision, you looked up at him clearly.

his onyx eyes with glimmers of the sun in them caught the reflection of the moonlight almost perfectly, his hand traced patterns on your back in a solid attempt to calm you down.

his raven black hair was messy and soft.

this man might've been perfect.

but you were far from it.

"if any of that shit happens again you come to me, understood?" he ordered possessively.

"y-yes."

you mumbled out, finding solitude in his chest.

"come on," he picked you up bridal style, carrying you away from the sight.

"where are we going?" you asked soft spokenly, your arms wrapped around his neck.

"i'm not letting you go into an unsafe room, Y/N. you're with me tonight."

your cheeks lit up in a crimson hue.

his chest was so warm.. no, do not think that about your wingleader.

he laid you in his bed before getting in himself, wrapping his arms in a protective manner around your sore abdomen.

"sleep, y/n, sleep."

you nuzzled into his chest, his lips meeting your forehead.

you could've stayed like that forever.

#fem!reader #fanfiction #xaden riorson #fourth wing #xaden riorson x reader #tumblr fyp #writers on tumblr

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loveslibrarywp · 9 months

Text

Aemond loves his pregnant wife!

Aemond Targaryen x Wife!reader

Summary: Aemond is so obsessed with his wife and the fact that she’s carrying his child. It just riles him up!

Warnings: NSFW. P in V sex. Breeding kink. Lactation kink. Soft dom!Aemond. pain kink?. Pregnancy. Aemond is obsessed with his pregnant wife. Crappy ending.

Author’s note: no comment…

“Gods, look at you..” Aemond gasped as stared at you with desire in his eyes. You were dressed in a silk nightdress and a fluffy robe to keep you warm. Your growing belly was poking out of the dress on full display.

You let out a little laugh as you turn around and place your earrings and necklace down onto a ceramic tray on your vanity. You felt hands slink around your waist, a smile forming across your lips as you know exactly who it is.

“ñuha gevie ābrazȳrys. How did I get so lucky?” My beautiful wife. You giggled as you felt his soft lips on the skin of your neck. He nipped at the skin and caressed your swollen belly.

You turned around to meet his front. You took his face into your grasp and smiled up at the man, you felt more content than ever with him. You placed a gentle kiss on his lips and moved your hands to untie his eyepatch from his head.

As you place the leather patch on your vanity, you take his raw beauty in. His sapphire shined in the dim light of the candles, his face was perfectly shaped and his hair was splayed out around is shoulders. He was crafted by the gods just for you. You and you only.

“I should be the one say that, my love.” You smiled. His once pale face flushed pink, even after being together for a little less than a year he would still get so shy at your compliments towards him. Growing up, people were often scared of him because of his scar, women would avoid him and men feared him.

Now that he had you, he was showered in praises and compliments. The feeling was overwhelming.

He pushed your hair off your shoulder to reveal your neck. His ran his finger from your pulse point to the valley in between your breasts. He lightly pressed his palm into your swollen tits, which earned a small moan from you.

“Are they swollen from making milk for our babe?” He asked, you nodded as your eyes closed when he kneed your left breast. “I shall help you with the your pain, my love..” he said as he pulled you towards your shared bed.

Being very close to your birth date, you were already producing milk. Your husband had become infatuated with your growing tits, like it was a sight to see. He slowly took off your robe and tossed to the side. He then pulled the neckline of your dress down onto your shoulders to reveal your tits.

Your bare chest was now exposed to him and the cold air of the room made your nipples peak up even more than they already were. He groaned at the sight of your breasts and your belly peaking out of your night gown. Your belly was full of his babe and your tits were full of milk.

“Such a beautiful body. You’re a goddess..” He caressed your big belly and moved his fingers closer to your heat under your dress.

You felt your wetness that had accumulated overtime was dripping out of you. He began kissing down your neck and to your chest. He slowly nipped around your breasts and latched his lips onto your nipple. He stuck gently onto your left tit, careful to not cause you anymore pain.

You groaned at the feeling of your husband’s warm mouth on your aching breast. He was always so gentle and kind with you, it was something you loved most about him.

His fingers crawled closer to your wetness. You gasped at the feeling when he stuck a finger inside of you. He slowly started to pump his finger in and out of your dripping heat. His tongue circled the bud of your nipple, collecting the milk that was dripping from your tit.

“Gods, Aemond…” you moaned, your feet digging into the bed as you gripped his hair and his hand that was giving you such pleasure. “I need you inside me, husband.” You beg.

“Ask politely, my lovely wife.” He smirked against your chest, you sigh, knowing exactly what he was admin of you. He wanted you to beg him. “Please Aemond, Please fuck me, I need you inside me now.”

He watched you closely as you begged for him, your face was flushed with pleasure as he fingered you. “As you wish,” He said as he sat up, you watched him take off his tunic quickly and untied his breeches, you were practically melting as you admired your husbands body and face, he was the most beautiful man in the kingdom.

He pulled his hard cock out of his breeches and pumped it softly as he lined himself up with your entrance. He hit his tip against your clit, making you moan out, pressing your forehead to his. He slowly pressed into your hole and gently slid in to be careful not to hurt you.

You both groaned as he stopped at the hilt, savoring in the feeling. “I could stay like this forever..” Aemond whispered as your foreheads were still connected, his words made you laugh. Your sweet laugh made him smile.

“Can I move, my love?” He asked, you nodded your head against him. He slowly started thrusting in and out of you, wet sounds filled the once quiet room. When he picks up his pace, it’s like all the breath from your lungs is taken from you.

You grip his shoulders and run your nails down his back, the pain from your scratches only adds to Aemond’s pleasure. His low groans and your loud moans and the obscene wet noises from the act heighten the intensity. “Look at you…already full of my child and still wanting me inside of you?” He said with a sly smirk.

“That feel good?” He asked as he kissed on your neck and collarbone. You could barely speak, you could only nod your head to acknowledge him. He buried his face into your neck and moved his long fingers down to your heat.

His fingers rub your swollen clit, making you clench down onto his cock. You both moan at the feeling. Both of your peaks creeping up at you. Your fingers were digging into your husband’s back as he pounded into you.

Your peak was near the edge as was your husband’s as you felt him throb inside of your cunt. “You feel so good, my sweet wife..” he mumbled into your neck.

You could only moan, you couldn’t even warn him you were close. You felt like you were on cloud nine as you came all over your husband’s thick cock. Aemond knew he wasn’t gonna last very long after you when you were tightening the way you were.

He came with a low groan. He softly kissed on your neck as he mumbled sweet words. “I love you..” he whispered into your ear.

“I love you too, baby.” You said with a smile. He slowly slid out of you and grabbed a cloth to clean you both up. He fixed your night gown to cover you and fixed himself to be more presentable for bed.

He laid next to you and gave you soft kisses all over your face until you both fell asleep as you felt content together.

#aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond smut

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cherryredlove · 2 months

Text

☆ Gods Bless Alicent ☆

Modern!au Gwayne Hightower x Reader

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

Your best friend Alicent invites you to her 24th birthday party. Despite being friends with her for so long, you finally meet her older brother Gwayne at one of the hottest parties of the year.

Word count: 1.8k

Themes: fluffy, content warning of alcohol and cigars/cigarettes, the SMALLEST drop of spiciness

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

The invitation came two weeks ago, a luxurious cream-colored card with a gold-embossed crest. It was unmistakably Alicent Hightower’s style: elegant, formal, and a touch extravagant. Alicent always had a flair for the dramatics.

Alicent was your best friend since your university days. You'd lived together in student halls first year and stuck by each other ever since, suffering through hangovers and linguistics classes together. Godsdamn Valyrian was hard to learn.

When she mentioned that her 24th birthday party would be *the* event of the year, you expected nothing less than a grand affair. She was planning a celebration at her family’s mansion, complete with a guest list full of the coolest who’s who in Westeros and enough booze to get everyone thoroughly inebriated.

You decided to dress the part, slipping into a sleek black dress that hugged your curves just right. You paired it with silver heels and a clutch that matched. Your hair was done in the way Rhaenyra said was very fetching, and you had those diamond earrings Mysaria gave you for Christmas last year on. After checking yourself in the mirror one last time, you headed to the Hightower mansion, excitement tingling in your veins.

As you approached the grand entrance, you were greeted by the soft glow of string lights that draped over the sprawling garden and the subtle hum of music seeping from the house. The scene was already buzzing with energy; laughter and conversation mingled with the scent of barbecue (wagyu meat, of course) and the faint aroma of expensive cigars.

Alicent spotted you the moment you walked through the door. She looked stunning in an emerald green dress that made her eyes pop like bright jewels against her porcelain skin. Her auburn hair was styled in loose waves, framing her face perfectly.

“Y/N!” she exclaimed, weaving through the crowd to wrap you in a tight hug. “You made it!”

“Of course I did,” you laughed, hugging her back. “I wouldn’t miss your party for anything.”

Alicent pulled back, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Come on, let me introduce you to everyone.”

The mansion was a sprawling labyrinth of luxury. Guests gathered in the expansive living room, on the patio, and around the pool in the backyard. As Alicent guided you through the throng, you recognized several faces from university and others from various social gatherings. Laena waved at you as she chatted to and shared a cig with Criston, who gave you a big smile and a wink as he sipped a fruity-looking cocktail.

The Targaryens were there in force—Rhaenyra, with her striking platinum hair, was animatedly chatting with her husband, Laenor Velaryon. Alicent had informed you of their 'arrangement' that suited them and their law firm just fine. In fact, you were pretty sure Nyra and Alicent had dallied around in the past (and present) together. Daemon Targaryen, the notorious bad boy, was lounging by the pool, an amused smirk playing on his lips as he puffed a Cubana cigar. However, there was only one man who Alicent wanted you to talk to that night.

“Y/N, meet my brother Gwayne,” Alicent said, pulling you towards a tall, striking man with broad shoulders and an easy smile. He had the same auburn hair as Alicent, though his was cut shorter and a bit unruly. His hazel eyes were warm and inviting, carrying a hint of mischief that was instantly captivating. He wore a crisp white shirt and grey slacks, the undone collar buttons making your heart race a little. You spy a chain with a ring around his neck and a swanky wristwatch.

“Hey,” Gwayne greeted, offering his hand. His voice was smooth, with a playful lilt that sent a shiver down your spine. “Alicent’s told me a lot about you.”

You shook his hand, trying to ignore the tingling sensation his touch left on your skin. “All good things, I hope.”

“All good, I promise,” he replied, his smile widening.

Alicent grinned knowingly. “I can't believe you haven't met before! I’ll leave you two to chat,” she said with a wink before disappearing into the crowd, clearly intent on matchmaking.

“So, how are you enjoying the party?” Gwayne asked, leaning against the bar with an effortless charm.

“It’s amazing,” you admitted, glancing around at the lively atmosphere. “Alicent really knows how to throw a party.” You remember the simple days of pre-drinks at the flat, trying to down as much cheap wine as possible before hitting your favoured club, the Dragon Pit.

“She does,” Gwayne agreed, nodding towards the expansive patio. “Have you tried the drinks yet? We’ve got a special cocktail menu for the occasion.”

You shook your head, and he offered you his arm. “Come on, let’s get you something.”

You followed him to the bar, where he ordered two drinks, an Iron Islands ice tea and a Stormlands sangria, explaining the mix of flavours and how they were inspired by the Seven Kingdoms. It was evident he knew his way around a party just as much as his sister did. As you sipped on the concoction—a mix of sweet, tangy, and a hint of spice—you found yourself relaxing, drawn in by Gwayne’s easy conversation and the comfortable vibe he exuded.

He asked about your work and your interests and seemed genuinely interested in your answers. As the night wore on, the initial nervousness you felt in his presence melted away, replaced by a growing sense of comfort and attraction.

You noticed the way Gwayne’s eyes lingered on you, the subtle brush of his hand against yours as you stood close, and the warmth of his gaze when you laughed at his jokes. The chemistry between you was undeniable, an electric current that thrummed beneath the surface of every exchanged glance and shared smile. The way you easily laughed and joked after a couple of shared kamikaze shots with only the finest of Vale vodka made your heart soar.

“Come on!”Rhaenyra’s voice cut through the crowd, pulling your attention to the pool area, where the jacuzzi was bubbling invitingly. She beckoned the large group you were stood with over, waving her hand dramatically. “Time for some real fun!” she wiggled her eyebrows at you, and you snorted loudly.

Gwayne arched an eyebrow at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “What do you say? Fancy a dip?”

The idea of the jacuzzi sounded appealing, and the thought of being closer to Gwayne was even more tempting. “Why not?” You agreed, feeling a thrill of excitement.

Alicent had thought of everything, including a changing area near the pool with an array of swimwear for guests to choose from. After picking out a green metallic bikini, you changed quickly and stepped out into the warm night air.

Gwayne was already waiting, having swapped his party clothes for swim trunks. His toned physique was impossible to ignore, and as you approached, he flashed you a grin that made your heart race. You melted at the sight of his muscled arms. If you swooned publicly over your bestie's brother, Gods knows you'd never hear the end of it.

The jacuzzi was an oasis of warmth, and as you sank into the bubbling water beside Gwayne, you felt the party energy really start to flow. You were surrounded by laughter and chatter, the air thick with the smell of camaraderie that was both intoxicating and freeing. Or maybe that was the smell of Daemon offering you a cigarette.

As the conversation flowed, Gwayne moved closer, his knee brushing against yours beneath the water. “So, what do you think?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

"About the jacuzzi or the company?" you teased, meeting his gaze.

“Both.”

You laughed softly, feeling bold and buoyed by the evening’s energy and copious booze. “The jacuzzi is great, but the company is definitely the highlight.”

His eyes darkened slightly, a pleased smile playing on his lips. “I’m glad to hear that.” Godsdammit, he was hot when he was smug.

For a moment, you forgot about the rest of the party, lost in the connection you felt with Gwayne. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you in your own little bubble.

Alicent appeared at the edge of the jacuzzi, a conspiratorial smile on her lips. “Are you two enjoying yourselves?” she asked, a knowing look in her eyes.

Gwayne shot her an exasperated look, rolling his eyes. “Yes, Alicent, we’re enjoying ourselves.” You giggled at his sass, and he laughed easily.

She laughed, too, glancing between you two. “Good. I'm just making sure.” With a wink, she left, leaving you and Gwayne in your bubbly little corner.

“Your sister seems intent on playing matchmaker,” you observed, leaning back against the side of the jacuzzi.

Gwayne shrugged, his gaze steady on yours. “She means well. But I’m not complaining.”

The admission sent a pleasant flutter through your chest. The more time you spent with him, the more you realized how much you enjoyed his presence—the way he made you laugh, the way he listened, and the way he made you feel as if you were the only person that mattered.

As the night deepened, the party’s energy shifted to a more relaxed, intimate vibe. The music softened, and the crowd thinned, leaving a more personal vibe.

Gwayne shifted closer, his expression serious but gentle. “I’ve really enjoyed talking with you tonight, Y/N.”

You met his gaze, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the jacuzzi. “I’ve enjoyed it too, Gwayne.”

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. “Would you be interested in going out sometime? Just the two of us?”

The question sent a thrill of anticipation through you, and you nodded, unable to suppress a smile. “I’d like that very much.”

His answering smile was a bright, genuine thing that made your heart skip a beat. “Great. It’s a date, then.

As the stars twinkled above and the sounds of the party faded into the background, Gwayne leaned in, his gaze locked onto yours. The world seemed to hold its breath as he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss.

The kiss was everything you hoped it would be—gentle yet filled with a promise of more to come. When he pulled back, his eyes searched yours for any hesitation, but all he found was an echo of his own eagerness. He leaned in again and kissed you, more fervent this time, and you whimpered lightly as his teeth grazed your bottom lip.

“I’ll call you,” he promised, his voice a low murmur that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You nodded, your mind a whirlwind of possibilities. “I’ll be waiting.”

As the night wound down and you lingered in the warmth of the jacuzzi, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment and excitement for what lay ahead. Alicent’s party had indeed been one to remember, and she would be bragging for the rest of time about how it was her that set up the cutest couple in Westeros.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

AN: look the whole cast basically smokes, might as well be true to canon material lol. anyways i luv gwayne and i luv modern aus so expect lots more like this. as always send in requests plz i luv writing for people!

#gwayne hightower #gwayne hightower x reader #modern gwayne hightower #modern gwayne hightower x reader #best friend alicent hightower #modern house of the dragon

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cassiopeia-core · 5 months

Note

Hey, how’s it going?!! I was wondering if you could write dad!luke x reader fluffy fic? I had the thought of Luke being a girl dad and it’s driving me nuts.

favourite girls

modern!luke x reader

a/n: i love the idea of girl dad luke! its so sweet and cute and aldfjaldkfjk anyways enjoy :)

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"claire, honey, please go to bed already," you sighed, watching your five year old little bundle of energy chase her father around the house. it was way past her bedtime. "luke, stop encouraging this behaviour. i swear to god, i will start graying before i reach thirty."

luke scooped your daughter up and swung her around in a circle. claire giggled, small fists grabbing at your boyfriends curly black locks. "daddy, please, just five more minutes?" your daughter whined, looking up at luke with those big brown eyes she knew he could never say no to.

you sighed a deeper sigh, feeling an incoming headache on its way. it'd been a really tiring week; your boss had been pushing deadline upon deadline onto you and you were on the verge of multiple simultaneous mental breakdowns.

upon hearing your sigh, luke's heart dropped a little, suddenly feeling that his and his daughters actions, although playful, were very inconsiderate towards you, his lovely sweet girlfriend who wanted nothing more than a night of well deserved sleep. "come on claire bear, off to bed now. mommy's had a really long day okay? how about i read you a bedtime story, yeah?" he spoke softly, slinging your still whining five year old over his shoulder, making his way towards her room. as he passed by you, you shot him a grateful smile, standing up and walking to you and luke's shared bedroom.

you slipped under the warm covers and closed your eyes contentedly, feeling sleep overtake you. a few moments later, you felt the mattress next to you dip down. "luke?" you murmured groggily, hands reaching for him.

"shit baby, did i wake you? i'm so sorry." luke took hold of your hands and pressed a kiss to each one before pulling you close to him.

"s'okay," you mumbled, snuggling closer to him. "thank you so much."

"mama?" you heard the soft pitter-patter of feet, accompanied by your daughter's sleepy voice. "mama, i can't sleep. i want a cuddle. please?"

"of course sweetie." your daughter scrambled into the bed, climbing over you and settling in between you and luke. you kissed her cheek. "good night claire bear."

"g'night mama."

luke watched his two favourite girls succumb to sleep before pressing a kiss to your foreheads, feeling so lucky to have the both of you in one lifetime.

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a/n pt2: again, rushed ending? i have zero experience with children so i hope this was okay <3

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fluff #pjo #pjo x reader #dad luke x reader #this was so fun to write???

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forever-rogue · 8 months

Note

I have a pretty personal request ❤️ (and I completely understand if you don't feel comfortable writing it.)

But I have been struggling with self-esteem and acceptance of myself since gaining some weight. I know I'm beautiful, but that stupid, nagging voice in the back of my head can be a bitch.

I came up with an idea about reader who's in an established relationship with Joel Miller. They've settled into Jackson, and with the changes that come with that stability, she's noticed the changes in her own body and has to deal with it. I can just imagine how soft and fluffy Joel would be once he's made aware of what she's dealing with.

Or maybe I just really need a Joel of my own to cuddle and tell me I'm beautiful 🥺🥰

Thank you!!

AN | Here you go, I hope you enjoy! Also, a friendly reminder that you're lovely just the way you are 🥰

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Weight Discussion

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was the first time you'd looked at yourself in a mirror in a long time. Like properly looked at yourself. You'd been in Jackson for a few months now and were experiencing a stability that you hadn't known in so long. It still felt odd some days, waking up next to Joel in a warm, soft bed without having to worry about anything. But it was slowly becoming your normal life and while it was an adjustment, you were beginning to love it.

Happiness and peace looked good on Joel and Ellie. And you. But, and this was what had been nagging you, lingering in the back of your mind, you'd noticed some physical changes as well as everything else. You'd felt them before you'd fully looked at them - at yourself.

The bathroom boasted a large mirror but you usually didn't spend a while lot of time looking at yourself. You hadn't for years, so why start now?

Well, the simple answer was that now the changes were undeniable.

With a heavy sigh, you closed the bathroom door and glanced at yourself. Your face was a little fuller than you'd remembered, the darkness around your eyes lessened. Your skin looked good and your hair was styled and shiny. These were the changes you liked to see. You noticed the same, more or less, on Joel and Ellie too.

It was the rest you were worried about. You shucked off your sweater and pajamas pants and slowly allowed yourself to look over your body. You didn’t fixate on your body too much; for a long time survival and getting through your day to day was all that was on your mind. But now it felt like you had all the time in the world.

As you looked yourself over, you could see that there had been some physical changes. You looked softer, your tummy and hips fuller than you’d remembered since you were young, your thighs bigger as well. You sighed to yourself and turned on the showers before you could think too much about it. It wasn’t a big deal, you reminded yourself, it wasn’t a big deal.

You heard a knock on the door before it was slowly pushed open and Joel poked his head, “hey sweetheart, got room for one more?”

You panicked for a moment, trying to figure out how you could manage to get out of this one, “umm, I’m almost done actually. I’ll be out in a second and then its all yours.”

“Alright,” he lingered for a moment; you knew that he knew that something was up. Joel wasn’t stupid and he was very perceptive, “sounds good. Everything alright?”

“Of course,” you almost choked on the lie, “everything’s fine.”

Joel made a small sound before gently closing the door. You tried to swallow back your tears but soon enough they were running down your cheeks and mixing in with the stream from the shower.

It was just another change and it would be okay. You’d get there eventually…you hoped.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey baby,” Joel found you as you were in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner, a small smile on his face. He’d noticed that you’d been acting a little off but didn’t want to push it, he knew that you’d go to him when you were ready to.

“Hi Joel,” you looked up and offered him a smile you hoped mirrored his own, “what’s up?”

“Nothing,” he insisted softly as he came over to you, “just wanted to see my girl.”

You tutted at him softly as he came to stand behind you, wrapping an arm around your middle as he leaned his chin on your shoulder. You froze for a moment, sure that he was going to make some sort of comment about how soft or squishy your body was but he said nothing, instead pressing some kisses to your shoulder. You stopped what you were doing, closing your eyes and leaning into him, “Joel.”

“I love you, you know,” he whispered before you slowly turned around in his arms so you could face him. He reached up and put his hand on your face, slowly brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“I know,” you promised, leaning into his touch and turning your face so you could press a kiss to his palm, “I love you too.”

He watched you for a moment before leaning in to kiss you. You decided not to think too much about, not to worry about anything, and instead leaned into him and kissed him right back. It had been a bit since the two of you had a bit of time alone, and you hadn’t helped anything but pulling away from him whenever it was just the two of you. But you’d missed this and missed him, his touch, his everything.

You relaxed into his touch, letting him kiss you dizzy. Eventually his hands wandered down to your hips and that caused you to freeze up. You put your hands on his forearms and pulled away from him, breaking the kiss. Joel, good man that he was, stopped immediately and let go of you. You shook your head, more at yourself than anything else and blinked back your tears, “sorry, I just…it’s me.”

“It’s alright,” he whispered softly, “you don’t have to apologize. If you want to talk about whatever’s been going on, I’m here. You know that, I ain’t going anywhere. I love you.”

You inhaled deeply before slowly letting it all out and nodded, “thank you.”

“Do you want a hand finishing dinner?”

“Yes,” you appreciated the kind and gentle man that he was, “I’d like that a lot.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You walked into the bedroom, finding Joel already in bed and reading. You closed the door and leaned against, looking him over for a moment. He paused after a moment and looked up at you before marking his page and setting it to the side, “penny for your thoughts?”

You nodded slowly before making your way to the bed, sitting cross-legged on top of the covers next to him. There were a few moments of silence as you sat there and picked at a few loose strands on the hem of your sweater. Joel reached out and gave your knee a gentle squeeze. You reached for his hand and weaved your fingers through his, “I don’t want you to hate me.”

“Baby,” a small huff of laughter escaped him but his voice was low and gentle, “I don’t know what you could have done or do that would ever make me hate you. That’s impossible.”

“It’s just…I don’t know,” you shrugged, reassured a little bit that he wouldn’t hate you anyway, “I really like it here in Jackson. I’ve liked it since we’ve been here. But I think I’ve gotten too comfortable.”

“Too comfortable?” he repeated slowly, “ain’t that a good thing?”

“It’s….my body,” you admitted reluctantly, “I look different…I’ve gained weight. I don’t look like I used.”

“Okay,” he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. You were a bit taken aback by his nonchalant response, “I guess I don’t understand why it’s a big deal. But I want to understand.”

“I…because I look different and I was worried that you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

“That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard,” he tugged on your hand in a small attempt to pull you closer, “there’s nothing you could do to make me love you any less. That includes your body changing - happens to everyone. I’ve grown a little softer around the middle since we’ve been there but I haven’t heard you complaining. We’ve all grown comfortable here, but that’s a good thing, it means we’re safe and home and we’re living. Not just alive, but living.”

“I…hadn’t thought about it that way,” you whispered, “I hadn’t really noticed anything different about you.

“See? It didn’t matter to you, why would it matter to me? And even if it wasn’t any of those things, it wouldn’t matter to me. I love you,” you were perched on his lap now, looking at him with soft eyes. His hands settled on your hips and he gave them a gentle squeeze, “besides, ain’t nothing wrong with a little thicker, baby.”

“Joel,” you were laughing now, but a few tears managed to run down your cheeks; but these ones weren’t of sadness. He wiped them away tenderly, “thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he insisted, “I’m just telling you how it is. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me and only had sex in the total darkness?” admittedly it sounded silly when he said it like that. Your face warmed up as you bit your lip and shyly nodded. That look on its own was enough to make him practically melt, “oh baby.”

“It didn’t seem stupid at the time!” you burrowed your face in your hands to try and hide but he pulled your hands away from your face, “don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not, it’s affectionate,” he grinned, “you also don’t think I noticed anything. I might be dumb at times, but I ain’t stupid.”

“But you didn’t…say anything,” you cocked your head to the side as he raised an eyebrow.

“Again…why would I have?”

“You’re the best,” you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in to hug him, clinging onto him like a koala, “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, “no matter what either of us look like. You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“No you’re just trying to flatter me,” you snorted in amusement as you pulled back to look at him, “don’t look at me like that with those big brown eyes, Miller. That’s cheating!”

“It’s not flattery, it’s the truth,” he said, “and I’ll look at you any which way I want. Okay?”

“Okay,” you teased, “whatever you say.”

“That’s right,” he nodded in agreement, “now take off this sweater and leave the light on…only if you want to though.”

“Now that I can do,” you grinned, “gladly.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #tlou #pedro pascal

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sunvylovebug · 1 month

Text

Flowers

↬ Warnings: No warnings, soft and fluffy content with the butler for you …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

↬ Gender Neutral!Reader, they/them pronouns and third person narration (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

↬ Author Note: Ever since I saw Lycaon I want to give him a big hug. Not fair, I want this too.

↬ Summary: Spring brings with it beautiful things. One of them is the many flowers that begin to bloom in the fields. Flowers that, among many other things, serve to adorn the soft fur of the butler.

↬ Word Count: 548 Words

His white fur is so soft, so silky and so warm that it is impossible not to want to run the fingers through it, as if it were a comfortable cotton blanket in which it's possible to get lost for hours, caressing it gently, enjoying it with enthusiasm, and it's also impossible not to want to admire it when he wears that soft smile and a calm expression.

Lycaon's head would be very comfortable in his Master's lap, with closed eyes he would lose himself in the comfort and after repeatedly assuring him that everything would be fine, he would allow himself to take a nap. In their hands, Lycaon's Master held some small wildflowers full of vibrant colors and soon all of them would be carefully planted in a different part of those silky white locks.

It was the perfect afternoon. The birds singing, the sound of running water, the faint rays of sunlight passing through the leaves of the trees gently swaying in the spring breeze, the pleasant smell of the air and the various little animals roaming around. All these elements made that little moment together so peaceful, tender and relaxing.

When Lycaon wakes up, he feels the little bristles on the flower stems lightly scratching his skull and he smiles with some confusion. "What are you decorating my fur for, Master?"

"Nothing special Lycaon, I just thought those little flowers would look good on you and I wasn't wrong.... You look pretty" Master replied as Lycaon slipped his arms under his Master's knees and back to press them against his toned chest to then press a gentle kiss against their forehead.

The soft white furred man was extremely happy about the many flowers his Master decorated him with, so much so that he'd even allow himself to lose a bit of composure and wag his tail from side to side in an obvious display of happiness. Lycaon would take pride in whatever his Master gave him, even if it took away that serious, professional and intimidating appearance he used to have due to his features and imposing presence.

Then he would put one of his favorite flowers on his Master's ear, excusing himself with a "It's to keep a part of me with you", that was the first thing he thought to justify it and if you think about it, it's a very good reason. Thanks to it he'd seen one of the nicest smiles on the Master's face while they thanked him before placing some kisses all over his face.

As the sunset starts to peek with all its pretty and vibrant colors, Lycaon walks past Rina, he had the pretty flowers in his hair and that's enough to make the maid look at him with a little smile that carries a mix of tenderness and playfulness.

She giggled a little, that sight was not something very common to see. "You look good Lycaon."

"Thank you." His tail would gently swish from side to side as he walked around the mansion, performing any of the many tasks that required his personal care.

Lycaon and his Master would spend several of the spring days like this, spending a lot of time together, enjoying each other's company, among flowers, smiles, and the gentle spring breeze.

#von lycaon #von lycaon x reader #von lycaon zenless zone zero #von lycaon zzz #zzzero #zzz #zenless zone zero #zenless zone zero x reader #x reader #fluff #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #gn reader #fanfic #fanfiction

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colormepurplex2 · 9 months

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Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop | MYG

▻ Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop ↳ ArtProfessor!Yoongi x Artist/CoffeeShopOwner!f.Reader ⤜ Strangers to Lovers, Cozy Romance ⤜ Coffee Shop/Art AU | fluff, smut ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 8,028 ⤜ Summary: It’s like clockwork; you receive the same online order every weekday morning at eight o’clock: large decaf iced Americano, picked up promptly shortly after. His face has become familiar, as a part of your routine as the hiss of the espresso machine. Until, one day, that routine takes an unexpected turn, and you find yourself getting familiar with more than just his face. ⚠️ Very mild language, panic over student/teacher potential date (reader is a student, but she's the same age as Yoongi, just taking classes later in life than most), oral m receiving, fingering, kissing, mild dirty talk, cum swallowing, confessions of the heart

A/N: This is part of my 'Heartbeat Melodies' mini-series, where I write fics that are inspired by songs. If you'd like to hear the song that inspired this, you can find it here! A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi & @moonleeai for their amazing beta services!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

“Large decaf iced Americano,” you call out, barely glancing up from behind the counter.

A deep, familiar drawl pulls your attention, “That would be mine.” It’s only familiar for the fact you’ve heard that voice nearly every day for the last six months.

Your eyes snap up from the tablet, where the next online order has come through, to meet warm brown ones. “I should have known,” you reply before you can think better to bite your tongue. Heat suffuses your cheeks. You pull your lips between your teeth to stifle the groan of embarrassment that begs to be released.

The man chuckles, absently using a knuckle to push up the hornrimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know if I should be offended or honored by that comment. But, I guess I do come here a lot.”

Nearly every day for the last six months, at least. That’s how often he comes here—to your coffee shop. It’s tiny, barely big enough for a handful of small tables and chairs. But it’s yours, and you’re proud of it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to seem…” you trail off. Not sure how to finish that thought because you’re not entirely sure how you meant it or why you said it other than the fact you’re a bit frazzled this morning and apparently forgot your mouth filter at home. It was a late night last night for you. It's not an excuse, but still.

He waves a large hand in the air, dismissing your apology. “Please, it’s quite alright. I’ll take it as flattery; could use a little boost to my confidence anyhow.”

That almost makes you sputter in disbelief. There’s absolutely no way this man needs any flattery. Surely, he comes by it in droves. Because, well, he’s honestly so gorgeous it should be criminal.

His hair is fluffy, somewhere between charcoal grey and black, though the warm lighting of your cafe gives it a golden honey halo effect. The eyes behind his black-rimmed glasses are dark swirls of espresso that match his coffee order—a straight nose sitting above soft, pink lips that have a light glossy sheen to them.

As usual, he’s wearing a pressed slack and jacket combo, a cream-colored collared shirt underneath with a bold print tie. His choice of ties is what drew you to him in the first place, and made you pay a little closer attention to the mysterious man behind the large decaf iced Americano.

You clear your throat, daring to be bold, while it seems you’ve no filter to stop you. “Well, if you ever need further flattery, you know where to find me.” It’s clear that you give him an assessing once over, his eyes locked onto yours as you do so.

“Do you paint?”

The question throws you off, nearly making you drop the tablet in your hands. Your fingers flex against the case, your thumb brushing along the glass screen. Busying yourself with reviewing the next order on the screen, you turn, giving him your back as you decide how to answer his random question. You’ve never actually had a conversation with him; this man that you feel like you know yet is a complete stranger.

“Why do you ask?” you deflect as you go through the motions of scooping grinds and swapping out the portafilter for a freshly filled one. However, you know it’s not always polite to answer a question with a question; you’re just not sure how to decipher his curiosity or where it came from to begin with.

The bell above the door rings, and you wince as the espresso machine gurgles and hisses loudly as you mechanically pop a cup in the machine and hit the brew button. The noise fills the quiet space of the coffee shop. It’s not until the cup is filled, you’ve added two lumps of sugar, and you’re grabbing a lid that the man responds.

“There’s paint under your fingernails. Or, at least, what I would guess is paint.”

Glancing down at the cup in your hand, you take in the colorful myriad of flecks coating your skin. The colors fill the grooves of your knuckles and hug around the bed of your nails.

“Double espresso with two sugars,” you announce, ripping your gaze from your hand to the interior space of your cafe. A woman steps around the man, giving you a hurried smile as she holds out her hand to receive the cup. You hand it off. “Have a good day.”

Giving the cafe's inside a quick glance, you ensure all the customers within are taken care of. A college student is busy pounding away at their laptop keyboard in the corner, utilizing your free wifi. A half-empty cup of hot cocoa sits cold and abandoned beside them. A trio of friends sit at your only table big enough to seat more than two people, laughing softly and sipping hot lattes and teas. No one seems to need your attention; except the man still standing there, large decaf iced Americano in hand.

You lick your lips, a nervous habit you picked up after endless stressful nights pouring your heart, soul, blood, sweat, and tears into opening the small cafe. Most believed it would flop; others rallied to your side and helped your dream come true.

“Look, sorry if I’ve overstepped somehow,” he begins, but you shake your head, letting him know he’s not.

Gesturing at the wall behind the man, you finally answer, “In my spare time.”

He glances over his shoulder, eyes zigzagging across the giant unfinished mural covering the windowless back wall of the cafe.

“That?” he asks. “You’re painting that?”

It’s hard to decipher if that’s disbelief or awe coloring his voice.

“I am,” you answer a bit hesitantly.

“Wow!” he exclaims, a giant grin spreading across his face, crinkling his eyes at the corners. “I’ve been meaning to ask after the artist every time I come in and see something new added, I just uh,” he brings his free hand up and rubs it across the back of his neck, eyes dropping to the floor under his feet, “well, could never bring myself to.” It’s pretty, the way his cheeks take on a flush of color as his eyes cut to you from over the frame of his glasses. “It’s wonderful work.”

“Thank you.” You can’t help your own flush of shyness at his praise.

“So, uh,” he lifts his cup and gives it a swirl, the ice sloshing around inside, before taking a small sip through the straw, “I know you probably see it on the order, but for the sake of propriety, my name’s Yoongi.”

Min Yoongi, to be more precise, you know. It’s a name you’ve read so many times it’s ingrained in your mind. However, it’s still nice for him to offer it to you. Willingly establishing your connection one step further than his coffee order.

You feel so silly tapping the name tag on the front of your apron, but you do it before you can think better of it, mumbling your name as if he can’t read it for himself after you brought direct attention to it. “Sorry, I’m not normally so weird,” you give a shaky laugh, willing yourself to shut up before you chase him off from how awkward you’re being.

Something changes in his demeanor, his eyes taking on a light twinkle that sits somewhere between mischief and wonder. “I like weird,” he offers casually as if that doesn’t make your stomach swoop and your heart beat a little harder. “Maybe we can talk more about your art sometime. Maybe over dinner? Or lunch if dinner is too forward.”

If you were a cartoon, you’re confident your tongue would actually be tied into a jumbled knot right now with you frantically trying to talk around it, a comical scene for sure. Yet, there is no knot, just a thick feeling that you have to swallow past. “Um, yeah, sure. That would be great. Dinner…or uh, lunch. Both. Either one. Though, dinner might be better considering my hours.”

Yoongi glances at the vinyl hours printed on the front window by the door. They’re backward from his vantage point, but you assume he has no issue reading them, considering he turns back to you and asks, “How does seven work for you?”

“Tonight?” The beating of your heart lurches again, and you can barely hear him over the rushing in your ears.

“Yeah, if that’s not too soon. Perhaps next week, if that’s better? I don’t want to come on too strong. Or well, rather, what I mean to say is, don’t feel pressured.” You can tell he’s feeling hesitant now, trying to backtrack and offer you a way to politely decline his offer for dinner tonight. You didn’t mean to come off sounding so put out. You just weren’t expecting his request to be for tonight.

Mentally, you dig through your schedule. You’re not closing today. Marvin comes in at noon to help with the lunch rush, and then you leave at four to make it to your five o’clock class. It would be today of all days that your new art class starts. It’s the beginning of the fall semester at the local university, and you just so happened to decide to take a few art classes they were offering, the first of which starts tonight.

The class should only be around an hour long, with plenty of time to get home and change before the date. Is it a date? Or just strangers getting together to talk about art? Isn’t that what a date is anyway, though?

“Seven. Tonight. That would be great.”

“Okay, perfect. Can I pick you up? Or we can meet here if that works better.”

It’s endearing he’d offer, both picking you up and meeting in a familiar place. Considering you live above the coffee shop, though, it makes no difference. Though, he doesn’t necessarily know that.

“Here is fine.”

“Wonderful. Have you tried that steak house on the corner yet?”

“The new one that opened last week?” He nods. “I haven’t, no.”

“Perfect.” Yoongi smiles. “Here, at seven. Consider it a date.” His smile falters, and his brows pinch, forming a line between them. “Not that I…well, it’s not that…it doesn’t have to be…if you don’t want this to be a date, that’s—”

“It’s a date,” you confirm, giving him what you hope to be a warm smile to ease his mild panic. “I’ll see you then, Yoongi.”

“See you then,” he responds, tacking your name on at the end in his deep drawl. The way it sounds coming from his mouth should be added to one of those spicy erotica audiobooks you may or may not have downloaded on your phone.

Just as Yoongi is leaving, it’s like the world finally takes a breath, and the exhalation that follows brings with it a rush of early morning commuters seeking their morning fix. The everyday bustle and hubbub of the day filter back in, and you’re soon lost to the sway of the shop, coffee, tea, and cocoa. It all comes alive beneath your nimble fingers, much reminiscent of the way holding a brush makes you feel: a thrill of the soul with each pour.

☕☕☕

Yoongi

In all Yoongi’s years of teaching, he’s never been late to a class, especially on the first day of the semester. Yet, he’s nearly fifteen minutes late getting into his classroom this morning. Students are already filled in and scattered around the theatre-style seating. No one says anything. It’s far too early in the morning for smart mouths and snarky remarks about his tardiness. Not that he would expect that from any of the students anyway.

“Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min.” He drops his bag and coffee off on his podium at the front of the classroom. Turning to the large chalkboard behind it, he scrawls his name to the side and then begins to write directions. “We will begin with Chapter 1, ‘Mediums and Forms’, in your textbook. Please read quietly, and I’ll be with you all in a moment.”

The day goes on, class after class, and the familiar monotony of it brings Yoongi a sense of peace. This is familiar territory; he’s in his element, not like this morning in the coffee shop. He felt totally out of control and swept up in the swirl of uncertainties and possibilities.

To say he’s relieved you agreed to go to dinner with him would be an understatement. From the moment he decided to change up his routine to check out the cafe Namjoon wouldn’t shut up about, he’s been hooked not only on the impeccable decaf iced Americano, nor the beautifully decorated and painted interior but on the smiling face behind the counter.

Yoongi feels a bit self-conscious thinking about how much he thinks about you. He’s always been too intimidated by the idea of speaking more than a few passing words to you. It’s like every time he gathered up the courage, it would abandon him at the last moment. Namjoon calls it a crush, Yoongi calls it frustrating.

The whole conversation this morning is a bit of a blur to him. Yoongi swears once he opened his mouth it was nearly impossible to stop the word vomit from gushing out…and the next thing he knew, you were agreeing to a date with him tonight.

The day's last class rolls around, and Yoongi feels much lighter as he steps out of his adjoining office and into the classroom to welcome the new students. A few offer him quiet hello’s, some he’s seen from other art classes he’s monitored across the entire department and fine arts program.

Turning his back as the last few students filter in, he makes the same spiel he has at the beginning of every class. “Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min…”

And so it begins, the beautiful dance of teaching and introducing fresh minds to the concept of forms and mediums. Yoongi is sure he could recite the entirety of Chapter 1 from memory now, with as many times as he’s gone over it today.

“What if you decide you don’t like your form or medium halfway through the project?” a student from the front row asks after Yoongi explains the medium and forms requisite for the final project for this class.

“We’re going to spend plenty of time during the first part of the semester testing out different mediums to know which best suits each of your individual tastes and needs. Regarding the form, I recommend choosing something you most likely won’t tire of. Something that means something to you but also isn’t so complex that you frustrate yourself and burn out before you can complete the project. You’re welcome to, at any time, bring me an idea of the form you’re considering, and we can talk about the intricacies and any potential issues that might arise with using it.”

Another question comes from somewhere in the middle, “Can we choose people, too?”

“A form can be anything that inspires you. If that happens to be a person, then of course. However, note that portraiture isn’t covered until Art 322, but I’ll do my best to help if that’s what you choose.” Yoongi glances at the clock, noticing there are only a few minutes left of class. “Let’s take the last few minutes to wind down, pack your things. If you have any further questions concerning your final project forms and mediums, please don’t hesitate to email me. Also, my office hours are open Tuesdays and Thursdays from two to six.”

As Yoongi turns to begin putting his things away from his podium, his eyes slide across the faces of his last class students, trying to cram them into his mind for the sake of remembering. He always likes to be as personable and approachable to his students as possible; knowing names and faces is always a good place to start.

He has to do a double take as his eyes flick over the very top row. The shock is felt throughout his entire body. It’s not that he’s surprised to see a face he already knows. It’s just that he wasn’t expecting it…wasn’t expecting to see you. Mild panic makes him jerk around, hands gripping at the papers on his podium, shuffling them mechanically.

The first thought that crosses his mind is he can’t possibly be going on a date with one of his students. Surely you’re just here to…to what? He turns over one of the papers, quickly scanning his roster that he hadn’t bothered to check yet. It doesn’t take long for his eyes to snag on your name.

Unease settles across his shoulders. He hates to cancel the date, as he was really looking forward to it, but it’s just…not right, right? There’s a line he shouldn’t cross with his students, even one who he is sure is his age and not the typical college freshman. Yoongi knows this because maybe, perhaps, he might have spent his lunch hour googling you and the cafe. You’re in your early thirties, given the birth year that was viewable on one of your social media pages, and own the coffee shop, have for several years now…a full-ass grown adult—the perfect person to date.

Except now you’re his student. There’s some moral code there somewhere, something about the skewed power dynamic. The thought of going on this date should have red flags flashing in his mind. Yet…yet, no matter how much he tells himself to cancel, he honestly doesn’t want to. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt that much, right? A harmless date.

That’s what he’s still telling himself as he dismisses the class a few minutes later. He intentionally avoided looking in your direction, unsure if you’d be comfortable with him acknowledging you as one of his students or not.

Much to his surprise, as the bubble of sound dissipates, a soft voice reaches his ears from a few feet behind him, “Fancy meeting you here.”

Yoongi has been so consumed with his own feelings about going on a date with a student that he hasn’t even thought about how you might feel. Are you about to cancel on him? Does he try to convince you not to?

He slowly turns, the stack of papers clutched in his hands, glasses slipping down his nose, yet he doesn’t want to pry his fingers from the bundle to fix them. “Look, I understand if you’d rather not—”

“I’m fine as long as you are.”

He’s relieved for your interruption, for keeping him from saying those words out loud. “Are you sure? If I had known this morning that you’d be one of my students…” he trails off, because he’s not so sure that would have stopped him after all. Considering he’s wanted to ask you out for at least the last four months.

“I’m glad you asked me. Student or not. I promise not to make it weird if you don’t.” You give him a brilliant smile, coy and full of mirth but light enough to make his heart jerk inside his chest.

“No weirdness, got it,” he agrees, unable to help his own teasing smile.

“So, I’ll see you then?” you ask, hefting your canvas bag on your shoulder. His eyes flick to it, noting the splashes and swirls of fabric paint that cover the outside. Yoongi wonders if you painted it yourself.

He nods, letting his eyes drink you in one last time before you turn to go. You’re still wearing the same jeans and thin cable knit sweater from the coffee shop this morning. Even in such casual clothes, you are stunning. A work of art all your own. He doesn’t stop staring until the door to his classroom shuts behind you.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. It’s not out of irritation or anger, just an acknowledgement of how truly and utterly he’s got it down bad for you.

☕☕☕

Seven can’t come soon enough. It only took you thirty minutes to get ready, putting on a simple black dress and flats. It’s not too fancy, but it makes you feel far more put together than just jeans and a t-shirt.

At five til, you make your way down into the coffee shop from your upstairs apartment. All of the main overhead lights are off, leaving only the warm accent lights that line the menu board and the display case lights on. Even now, the space smells delightedly of coffee.

It’s kind of funny, the fact that you’re not a coffee drinker. Everyone finds it odd that someone who doesn’t drink coffee would aspire to open a coffee shop. What they fail to realize is you love the smell of coffee. The warm, roasted, mildly sweet notes are what you thrive on, better than any shot of espresso in your mind.

There is a street lamp right outside your shop, flooding the sidewalk with a pool of yellow light. Standing just within the glow is Yoongi, his back to the shop door. You watch as his head swivels, looking down both directions of the sidewalk, completely unaware that you’ll be coming from behind him instead.

The sound of the lock turning over startles him. He jerks around and laughs softly, taking a step back, hand to his chest, as you pull the door open. “Can’t say I expected you to come from inside the cafe.”

“I would have been down sooner had I known you would be a bit early,” you say, locking the door behind you. “I probably should have given you my number or something.”

Yoongi eyes you, his gaze sliding up and down your body like he’s drinking you in. You hope he likes what he sees. “I think I was so excited about the date that I forgot even to ask,” he admits, giving you a sheepish smile when his eyes finally land back on yours. “You look,” —he gives you another quick once over, shaking his head and sinking his teeth into his bottom lip— “gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you preen under his praise. “You look quite handsome, yourself.”

You’re not just saying that to return the compliment, either. Yoongi is wearing the same thing he was this morning, except the tie is loosened, and the top button of his shirt is undone, giving you the slightest peek at his prominent jugular notch.

“Shall we?” he asks, offering you his arm.

You slip your hand into the bend of his elbow, falling into step beside him. The walk to the steak house is short, just enough for pleasant exchanges. He asks how your day at the coffee shop went, and you ask after his first day of classes. Neither of you bring up the fact that you were part of one of those classes.

“I’ve been meaning to check this place out. I’ve heard excellent things.”

Yoongi hums, nodding his head at your words. “I’ve also heard good things, though it might perhaps be biased considering all the praise I’ve heard has come from the owner himself.”

“You’ve spoken with the owner?”

“He’s one of my best friends, actually. This will be the first time I try it out. I kept telling him I’d stop by, but it always got away from me.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. “I can’t believe you know Seokjin.”

“Wait, you know Seokjin?” Yoongi asks, surprised.

“I’d say know is a relative term. We get deliveries from the same produce truck. He tried to take my apples one time. I had to set him straight.” That makes Yoongi laugh along with you. “We chat sometimes, mostly about the quality of produce and the best places to get ingredients. I had no idea he was your friend.”

“Small world,” Yoongi says. His smile is warm and inviting. You’re sure you could get lost in it if he’d let you. It makes you wonder what his lips taste like. They have a slight sheen to them like they did this morning. Cherry chapstick? Maybe mint? A nice subtle vanilla?

You’re not sure the last time you laughed so hard you had tears in your eyes. But Yoongi has your sides in stitches and your cheeks aching from smiling and laughing so much during dinner.

“Oh gosh,” you wheeze between fits of giggling, clutching your stomach. “Ow, ow. Don’t make me laugh again. I can’t take it.” It just makes you laugh even more, the huffs trailing off as Yoongi reaches across the table toward you.

You pry your hands from your abdomen and slide them into his. His fingers are warm against yours, his thumbs rubbing across the backs of your knuckles. It’s a gesture he’s done several times tonight, silently asking for your hands any chance he could.

“Sorry, you just have such a beautiful laugh,” he says. “I could listen to it all day.”

His flattery hasn’t stopped. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the two glasses of wine he had with dinner were going to his head. But, he speaks so assuredly and looks in your eyes like you’re truly something special.

Feeling so intimately connected with someone you barely know might be absurd. Yet, you can’t help but feel drawn to him. If you’re being honest, the attraction started long ago, and tonight has just made it blossom into something so much more.

Yoongi has been the perfect gentleman. He’s not tried to railroad the conversation or make decisions for you like other guys you’ve gone on dates with. Whenever a server approached the table, he would defer to you and your needs before his.

“You’ve been so wonderful to me tonight. Please let me repay you with coffee and dessert. If you’re up for it.”

Yoongi squeezes both your hands before letting them go and sitting back in his chair. “There is no need to ‘repay’ me,” he says, emphasizing the word repay. “But, I wouldn’t say no to a date after this date, say in fifteen minutes, coffee and dessert?”

“Fifteen minutes? Coffee and dessert?” You give him a thoughtful look, tapping your fingers against your chin. “Hmm. I think I’m available.” You both break into more fits of soft laughter, contrasting so highly to the high energy from before; it’s intimate, if laughing can be such a thing.

It’s easy being with Yoongi; he’s attentive and curious. “What made you want to open a coffee shop?” he asks as you unlock the door to the cafe.

“I liked the idea of having a space that could cater to people from all walks of life. Businessmen in a hurry? Get it to go. Students needing a place to study? I have a quiet corner for that. College professor looking for his daily decaf Americao fix? Would you look at that? I got that covered, too.” You usher him inside, closing and locking the door behind you. “It also doubles as a great place to have a private coffee and dessert date after a lovely dinner date.”

You watch as Yoongi looks around the cozy space, his attention ending on the mural wall. “What’s your favorite kind of coffee?”

“Would it be weird if I said I don’t like coffee?” you ask.

He glances at you from over his shoulder. “Really?”

You shrug. “I love the way it smells, though.”

“Acrylic?” Yoongi asks, nodding toward the mural.

“Good eye,” you assess, stepping behind the counter to start making the coffee. You grab two pecan cinnamon twirls from the dry storage where you keep extra treats to take up to your apartment at the end of each shift and pop them into the small convection oven along the back wall. “You teach art, but it might be presumptuous of me to assume you also create. So, do you?”

“Not nearly as much as I’d like to. Pastels and charcoal are my favorites to work with. I like the mildly messy, chaotic feel of them. There are few things better than the feeling of taking something so uncontrolled and turning it into a thing of beauty.”

“Charcoal, huh?” Your mind instantly goes to the framed collection of pieces you have in your apartment upstairs. “I can appreciate that.”

“Maybe I can show you sometime.” Yoongi turns from his appreciation of your mural to watch you work behind the counter. He gestures to a few frames hung up on either side of the giant menu on the wall. “Arfé, right?”

You glance up, moving with automated motions to load the portafilter into the espresso machine. “Oh,” you laugh. “Yeah. An experiment. I wanted to try something new and needed some new decor. I thought it was appropriately on theme.”

The half-dozen pieces are all made with swirls of various shades in brown and tan and depict a mix of cups, mugs, bags of grinds, lumps of sugar, and piles of roasted coffee beans.

“Very appropriate. They’re lovely. You’re an exceptional artist.” You’ve lost count of the amount of compliments Yoongi has paid you tonight. You might have been the one flattering him this morning, but it seems he’s making up for that now.

“Thank you. Truly. That means a lot coming from you.” The hiss of the brew machine fills the air, and the soft gurgle of espresso trickling into the small mug follows. “One decaf Americano for one of my best customers,” you say, carefully carrying the steaming cup over to a table beside Yoongi. “Please, sit.”

Yoongi settles at the table, bringing the cup of coffee up to his nose and giving it an appreciative sniff. “Wonderful,” he murmurs before taking a tentative sip. “Thank you, that hits the spot.”

“If you think the Americano is good, wait until you try this,” you say, scooping the twirls out of the oven and onto a plate. They’re perfectly warm and gooey. “You’ve never tried any of our pastries, have you?”

You sit across from him. The table is small enough that you could reach out and cup his cheek if you wanted, and set the plate on the table before Yoongi. He whistles low, “Wow, these do look amazing. Maybe I’ll become a pecan twirl and coffee guy every morning instead.”

Your eyes track his movements, watching as his fingers pinch and slightly sink into the edges of one of the twirls. Some of the warm glaze and cinnamon sugar filling squishes from between the layers.

Yoongi’s lips part and the tip of his tongue peaks over his bottom teeth as he brings the pastry up to take a bite. The moan he lets out surprises you both. His eyes flutter before landing on you and going wide. He chews methodically, his gaze not leaving yours. His tongue darts out, swiping over his lips before he swallows.

“Well?” you ask, settling your elbows on the table and leaning into him, expectant.

The smile that tugs at his lips is coy. “Might be one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth.” There is a heat in his gaze as his eyes search yours. “What other surprises do you have up your proverbial sleeve for me?”

“Now, if I told you, they wouldn’t be surprises anymore, would they?”

That makes him laugh. “Fair point. You know,” he glances around the coffee shop, “I never knew just what it was about this coffee shop I loved so much, but I think I’ve figured it out.”

“Yeah?” you say, feeling positively giddy.

“Mhm. So,” he mirrors your pose across the table, his elbows nearly touching your own, fingers toying with yours where they’re folded in the air in front of your face, “is it too soon to ask you on a second date?”

“I thought this was our second date.” You raise a teasing eyebrow, a smile quirking on your lips.

“A third then,” he offers, eyes hopeful.

Of course, you want to say yes. And in the spirit of trying to be coy and playful, you lean in with the full intent of showing him instead of telling him how much you want to go on another date.

Yoongi’s eyes flicker to your lips, watching as you deliberately lick them as you lean in a bit closer. Acceptance lies within their dark depths, a flash of hunger at the impending response that’s only a breath away.

As you advance, your elbows slide on the table, accidentally knocking the coffee cup. Liquid goes everywhere; it floods over the table and pours off the side…right into Yoongi’s lap.

“Oh fuck!” you yell, jumping up from the table and rushing around to his side. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Do I need to call an ambulance? Does it burn?”

Yoongi pushes back from the table, holding his arms up off his lap as he assesses the mess. “No harm done. It was already cooled off. It's just a bit of a mess, that’s all. I’m fine,” he laughs. “Truly, I promise. Do you have any towels or anything?”

“Oh god, your shirt, it’s going to stain,” you lament, staring at the dark splotch soaking through above his trousers. “Towels? Yes. Yes. Okay. And some baking soda. Come on, let’s hurry. Again, I’m so sorry!”

“Should we clean this up first?” he asks, motioning at the coffee-covered floor.

“I can mop in the morning. Please,” you fret, guilt making you a bit frantic and flustered.

Yoongi lets you lead him up the stairs in the back that go to your apartment. “You live here?” he questions. “No wonder you were coming out of the coffee shop earlier. That’s very cool.”

You make a noncommittal sound. “It’s cool if you like the smell of coffee and don’t mind rising early every day to open shop.”

It’s so hard to think right now, your mind solely focused on cleaning up the mess you’ve made of Yoongi’s clothes. That’s what you get for trying to be sly and answer his date question with a kiss. You’ll be lucky if he still wants that date now, surely.

The bathroom is barely big enough for the two of you. You insist Yoongi sit on the lip of the tub while you dig under the sink for the baking soda that you use for cleaning and removing your own coffee stains.

“Hey,” Yoongi says softly, grabbing your attention. You glance at him over your shoulder, bottom lip clamped between your teeth in an effort not to fall apart entirely. “I promise it’s okay, alright? You don’t have to stress over it. It’s just an accident. It's a pretty funny one if you ask me. If I’d have known we were getting wet on the first—I mean, second date, I would have planned accordingly.”

His words hang between you, full of static and charged with intention. He’s trying to lighten the mood…and it’s working. It’s also making you feel a certain kind of way. Words shouldn’t have the power to do that. Yet, here you are, flustered for a whole different reason now.

“Date’s not over yet,” you respond, unsure where the bold attitude came from, but you’ll take it. His eyes flicker with something like surprise mixed with desire, though it’s gone before you can really be sure. “Do you mind?” You gesture to his shirt. “It’ll be easier if I can soak it in the sink.”

Slowly, Yoongi undoes the buttons on his shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. Somehow, you weren’t expecting him to be naked underneath, but every open button reveals another swath of flesh. He shrugs out of the shirt, revealing a toned chest and taut belly. His nipples are hard, dark chips, standing out in contrast to his smooth, creamy skin. Yoongi is absolutely breathtaking.

In fact, you have to remind yourself to breathe, taking in a large lungful of air that’s so much it makes your chest ache. He holds the shirt out to you in offering. Your fingers tremble lightly as you take it, quickly turning back to the sink and the distraction of scrubbing at the stain.

Reading over the garment tag quickly, you make sure what you’re about to do is okay. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on your back, like heated dagger points pricking beneath your skin. You turn on the water, letting the tap run until it’s hot, before quickly swishing the area of the shirt covered in coffee under it. The hot water alone makes a world of difference, the dark liquid swirling away down the drain.

“Do you want my pants, too?” Yoongi asks, startling you.

Your eyes flick up to the mirror, looking at him through the reflection. He’s talking to you, but his attention is zeroed in on your backside. Suddenly, you’re intimately aware that your dress has ridden up dangerously high. You can feel the cool air of the bathroom kissing the crease between your thigh and asscheek.

Turning off the water, you slowly turn to face him. Your chest rises and falls as you try to take deep, even breaths, but with the way your heart is revving inside, it’s impossible to do so. “Let’s see the damage,” you say lightly, raising an eyebrow in question, giving him a chance to call you off.

When he doesn’t comment further, you close the distance to where he’s sitting and ease down onto your knees. You mentally tell yourself it’s so you can get a better look at the coffee that’s saturating the dark fabric, but you know better than that.

Being so close to him, you can feel the heat of his body. His chest rises and falls as rapidly as yours, and when you look up and meet his gaze, there is no mistaking the fire that you see blazing there. “Don’t think I forgot you still haven’t answered my question,” he murmurs, lips barely moving as he watches you.

You lift a hand, hooking your index finger under his chin and using it to angle his face toward yours. “I’d love that,” you respond, your lips brushing over his with every syllable.

He kisses you. Or maybe you kiss him. It’ll be something you tease each other over for many years to come. You open yourself to him, welcoming the glide of his tongue against yours. The kiss tastes mildly of coffee, yet for the first time in your life, you don’t mind the flavor.

“For me to take my pants off, or the date?” he teases, alternating between nipping and consuming kisses. Yoongi’s hands frame your face, holding you to him as he continues to ravage your mouth.

“Mm, both,” you manage to get out. “Definitely both.” Sliding your hands down his torso, you marvel at the softness of his skin and the already very prominent bulge that your fingers dance over as you try to get a grip on the button to his slacks.

Yoongi breaks away from the kiss long enough to help you with his pants, standing up from the edge of the tub and bringing you up with him. He toes off his shoes, leaving his pants puddled on top of them. “Good answer,” he chuckles.

You let out a tiny squeal as he wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs and hauls you up, your legs automatically winding around his waist. Thick erection pressed right against your panty-covered pussy, he slowly walks you out of the bathroom and into your adjoining room. You land on the bed with a soft oomph, Yoongi following you down. His weight is a comfort, settled over your body in a warm, hedonistic embrace.

“I’ll change classes,” you pant, flexing your hips against his. “As long as our next date is to an art gallery.”

“Is it weird for that to turn me on?” he responds, groaning as you roll your hips against him again. “The art part, not the dropping classes part. You don’t have to do that if it’s too much trouble. I know your schedule must be pretty set with the cafe.”

You press your hands against his chest, giving him a gentle push until he’s rolling over and you’re hovering over him. “I’ll make it work. I want to make it work. Everything tonight,” you pause and sit back on your heels, dragging your hands along his torso as you do, “I want more. You’re driving me crazy in the best of ways.”

“Says the woman who’s been running through my thoughts for the last several months now.” Yoongi’s lips part in a gasp, turning his last word into a breathly plea as you trace the tips of your fingers over his straining erection. The fabric of his grey boxer briefs is slightly sticky when you brush your thumb over the head.

“It reminds me of making art,” you casually say, curling your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and tugging until he lifts his hips and lets you drag them down. You toss them to the side, marveling at the glory now resting against his belly. Yoongi’s cock is a gentle upward curve, all smooth steel and thick veins. It throbs, bouncing against his stomach, leaving behind a thick smear of precum. “The way you make me feel.”

“Art?” he asks, breathless. His eyes flutter behind his glasses, his chest hollowing as he sucks in ragged breaths.

“Being with you gives me the same feeling as viewing a Duncanson or a Matisse, calm and full of joy. Though, you can also make me feel the chaos of a Kandinsky when you touch me.” To emphasize your words, you wrap your fingers around his girth, angling it up, watching the emotions on his face. The tip of his tongue works at the corner of his mouth, lips parted with every pant and soft moan. “Is this okay?” you ask, leaning down and gently blowing over the leaking tip before tentatively giving it a kitten lick.

“More than,” Yoongi moans. His eye slide closed as you wrap your lips around the head and suck. The flavor of him bursts across your tongue. You can’t help but moan yourself at the idea you’ve made him like this, hard and leaking.

Working as much of his cock into your mouth as you can, you delight in the shuddering convulses you can feel from his body as he loses himself in the sensations you’re bringing him. Yoongi always seems like such a collected individual. He still appeared so well-kept even when he stuttered over his words asking you on the date this morning. Now, though, he’s unraveling into a puddle of debauchery.

It’s a satisfying feeling, similar to when you get into a perfect rhythm when working on a project, bringing him to the edge. You work your mouth and hand in tandem, never leaving an inch of his cock free of your touch.

“Mmm,” you moan, the head of his cock resting in the back of your throat. Yoongi jerks under you, half raising onto his elbows, his eyes zeroing in on where you’re wrapped around him.

His fingers twist into the duvet, bottom lip puffy and flushed as he worries it with his teeth. “I’m going to cum,” he grunts, throwing his head back and moaning his pleasures, deep and throaty.

You quicken your pace, hollowing your cheeks as you suck in earnest. Yoongi cries out a second before liquid warmth floods your mouth. It’s greedy, the way you swallow and continue to lave your tongue over him, eliciting tiny tremors and more moans.

“Just like art,” you whisper, finally letting his cock slip from between your lips. You’re riding your own high, wet and throbbing between your thighs. You can feel the ache in your clit, begging to be touched. All it would take is a few seconds, a few well-placed swirls of your fingers, and you know you’d be floating in orgasmic bliss.

Before you can even think of bringing your hand between your thighs to find relief, Yoongi is sitting up and urging you backward. Your back hits the mattress, and he settles on his side beside you. Somewhere between there and here, he pulled off his glasses. Despite having just found his release, his eyes are still so full of hunger and desire.

“May I?” he asks, pressing a hand against your inner thigh. You nod, eyes locked with his as he slowly trails his hand upward until his fingers brush over the soaked fabric of your panties. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers, leaning in to capture your mouth in a languid kiss. Your lids flutter closed, consumed as you are by his touch.

Yoongi takes his time, toying with the edge of your panties before tugging them down past your knees. They pool around your ankles as he pushes your thighs apart, exposing your weeping pussy to the air of the bedroom.

“Yoongi.” His name is half moan, half curse as he brings his hand back up and cups your heat. The meat of his palm rests against your clit, right where you need to be touched, but the pressure isn’t enough to satisfy.

“An exquisite work of art.” His lips strum against yours, plucking and teasing just the way his fingers do through your wetness. The tips of his fingers briefly kiss your clit, dancing away before returning; a slow build of decadent pleasure.

It’s not above you to beg. “Please. Yoongi, please!”

“Open your eyes, look at me. Let me watch you fall apart so I can brand it into my memory.”

You snap open your eyes the exact moment he slides two slender fingers into your pussy, thumb finally giving the needed pressure to your clit. You’re so worked up that your body pulses around the intrusion, a tiny fluttering orgasm rippling through you.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

Yoongi gives you a wicked, knowing smile. “It’s not over yet, beautiful,” he assures you in a whispered promise.

His fingers are long, able to reach the perfect, special place inside you. As he strokes his fingertips, moving them in an undulating wave, his thumb swirls in a circle around your clit.

The next orgasm is less surprising, building to a heightened peak that has you crying out as you careen over the edge, entirely at Yoongi’s mercy. “Yoongi, fuck!” you babble, your whole body alive with sensations of pleasure.

“That’s it,” he coaxes. “So beautiful.”

Your body shudders around his hand, his fingers slowing down their rhythm until you finally recover. The slide of his fingers along your walls as he withdraws makes you wish he’d put them back in…or maybe something else. The bereft feeling lasts only a moment before Yoongi gathers you into his arms. He’s completely naked, and you’re still wearing your dress, but you feel just as exposed as he is…only, it’s your soul on display for him instead of your body.

You wait for the feeling of vulnerability to filter in, that broken feeling of uncertainty. But, it doesn’t come. The only thing you feel is complete and utter content. It’s not even the post-orgasmic bliss that’s clouding it, either. No, there’s plenty of that, but it feels different; he feels different.

“Yoongi,” you begin, resting your cheek on his chest. You want to confess to him, but the words get choked in your throat. Is it too soon? Are you completely crazy? What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Fuck. Here goes nothing. “This feels good, really good. Is it too soon to say…?”

“Too soon to say?” he prompts.

You absently trace haphazard swirls and lines across his chest, trying to think of how to word it. “I, well…”

“Too soon to say that I think possibly, maybe, I’m falling for you?” You look up at him, surprised by his words. Yoongi looks at you with so much warmth and affection in his eyes. “Because that’s exactly how I feel, too.”

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