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seattlesellie · 9 months

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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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anantaru · 1 year

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— their favorite kind of pda (public display of affection)

including kaeya, diluc, kazuha, kaveh, alhaitham, scaramouche, baizhu, heizou x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, crack, very sweet n cute

kaeya likes when it's you who's initiating it instead, when now— you're suddenly looping your hand into his arm and tugging him a bit close too, so you would awkwardly bump into each other and laugh it off afterwards, so that even in the middle of the night, everyone could see and recognize how madly in love the both of you were. another part was the immediate reaction of kaeya, how he‘s trying to play off becoming all flustered, still not addressing it, while his arm was closing around you further until you‘re practically smushed into each other while forgetting where you even wanted to go in the first place. oh, right, good hunter! on the way to eat a good meal, yet kaeya thinks it might be better to take some food home so you could continue your little cuddle session more throughout.

when it comes to master diluc, he— in all his luminosity, adores placing his palm against your lower back. all things considered was it a subtle kind of shifting which you personally did not mind. diluc wasn't a fan of having a dozen pairs of eyes fixated on him, nor on his relationship with you— yes, he couldn't possibly stop it from happening but he at least tried to give nothing away regarding you both, what you were doing wasn't to be anyones business, ever. yet regardless of such, he would never leave an opportunity untouched of showing the public that you're the one who claimed his heart. diluc has the chance now and tenderly placing his palm on your lower back was a perfect motion which would bring the both of you an immediate swift of love and contentment.

kazuha was someone who was never really thinking about it more throughout nor did he never feel like he must show anything of that sorts to the public eye. so, when he meets up with you he'd be very spontaneous with it as well, you could never guess on what it's going to be today or what the man was planning. occasionally he'd get a hold of your hand, or start twirling you around, place his palms on your cheeks and humorously squeeze or add a little peck on the tip of your nose. whatever the case, it was your clear-out favorite, one of his most dearest traits, his spontaneous nature and how he implemented it into your relationship with such ease, this man truly had captured your heart and you won't ever take it away from him.

your sweet boyfriend kaveh was a sucker for holding your hand while sauntering through sumeru city— while, you had to be certain, he'd never let go of you. call it being a small quantity of a protective emotion that would fuel your boyfriends desire to have your palm on his for the entire duration of your meet up. keep in mind, sometimes he doesn't even realize he's still holding onto you and you have to remind him that "love, can you let go of my hand for a bit?" so you could stretch and turn, getting rid of the little burn coming from kaveh's strong grip. "w-why?" would be the next thing you'd hear from him— while now, it's assurance which you were counting on the utmost, because in truth you couldn't get enough of him holding your hand either.

it was quite new for alhaitham to ease into the entire relationship sphere and its supposed doings to consider. for you personally, he can take as much time as he required as long as he was wholly comfortable and happy. while the scribe wasn't a man of big words, he had now, developed a habit of parting his arm for you whenever he was fully engaged and locked into an intriguing new book. lets picture this, you're visiting him after a busy day, while he wouldn't say much he'd now open his arm automatically so you could snugly cuddle yourself into him, slant your cheek into his chest while feeling his tranquil heart beat against your skin as alhaitham carried on to page through his book, which was now, he realizes, a little bit more difficult.

scaramouche wouldn‘t admit it to you, ever, don‘t even think he might consider telling you that, yes, he in fact adores when you catch him entirely off guard and put a little kiss on his cheek— just one, subtle and tender peck on his squishy skin. the next you knew is how he‘s awkwardly averting his gaze and viewing the other direction, just doing something so you wouldn‘t notice the obvious red tint on his milky skin, how the moonlight was glaring right down on it and accentuating his mess of a reaction to you. how come he‘s already longing for another kiss? hidden underneath the night, scaramouche realized it‘s a scenario which certainly had already been written in a romance novel, but it‘s making him feel warm and secured, so he might return the favor now.

you were sure of it, truly, that baizhu had a sweet craving on having you on his lap as much as possible. first of all, it requires no engagement of his own limbs and muscles, he can leisurely stay seated on his work desk while you're taking place— one arm around his neck while you kept the other to yourself or decided to play with his hair. second of all, baizhu could now, talk to you while simultaneously further engage in his research and work load. but not only that, it can also go the exact opposite direction, he especially adored it when out in public, when you're having a sweet picnic and it's baizhu now lowering his head on your lap, so he could rest for a little bit while surrounded by both your scent and the soft melodies of nature— maybe you'll even slant your digits through his hair again, jokes aside, he hopes you'd do it.

how many different kinds of versions regarding pda were accessible to your ordinary person? the pretty detective heizou would make sure to try all of them at least once. your boyfriend thinks it‘s to enjoy and taste each and every thing in life, so why would he only set himself to one of it? in the beginning, heizou will start with holding your hand, testing the waters, while later he‘ll be all over you, mix and matching everything into another. lets say you‘re suddenly meeting a friend, don‘t think he‘d leave you guys to it, heizou will hug you from behind while resting his head on your shoulder, he‘s a perfect smooth-talker and will flawlessly engage himself into the conversation. it‘s known to the public eye that the both of you are inseparable, only showing up as a pair and now you‘re showing it too.

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aemondsbabe · 6 months

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Gevie

summary: you finally agree to go for a ride on sunfyre and your betrothed certainly makes it worth your while

pairing: aegon ii targaryen x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, aegon being sickeningly sweet, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), breast/nipple play, dirty talk, doin' it on a dragon, gratuitous use of valyrian

word count: 4.5k

a/n: finally proving to myself that i can remain semi-tame with the word count, i bet y'all thought i couldn't do it!! they're fucking around on a dragon. he gets road head, except it's on sunfyre. they're very cute.

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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A high-pitched yelp rips its way from your throat as you feel Sunfyre move beneath you, stirring up dirt and dust from the floor of the Dragonpit as he beats his wings. Behind you, Aegon laughs, tightening his thighs around yours on the saddle and letting out an excited whoop as the dragon finally pushes off the ground.

“Seven protect me!” You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut as soon as you see the world fall away beneath you as Sunfyre rises higher and higher into the air.

“Eglikta, Sunfyre! Sȳz!” Aegon calls out, pulling at the reins on the dragon's saddle as he guides him up and out of the Dragonpit. “You need not be so worried,” he soothes you, his voice loud and clear behind you as he speaks over the air whipping around the two of you, “You are with a highly skilled rider, my lady.” He reminds you sarcastically. (Higher, Sunfyre! Good!)

You gasp loudly as Sunfyre tilts upward, making you lean heavily on Aegon, your back to his chest as the dragon flies higher into the air. “It is not the rider I am worried about!” You call over the rushing wind, not daring to open your eyes as you grasp onto the sturdy leather straps of the saddle, white knuckling the material.

“Sunfyre is a part of me,” Aegon explains for the thousandth time, smiling as he steadies himself on the saddle, wide eyes flicking in every direction as he scans the skies, “I trust him with my life, and I trust him with you.”

This was a familiar argument, one you’d heard many times before over the previous months as Aegon tried time and time again to convince you to go riding with him; it was one of the first things he’d asked of you as soon as the courtship had been arranged nearly a year ago.

You’d finally relented, much to the prince’s delight, when news of your marriage was officially announced. “Consider it an early wedding present, your grace,” you’d told him at the time.

Oh, how you had come to regret those words now that your heart felt like it was in your throat, your hair whipping wildly in the air behind you as Sunfyre climbed ever higher. “M-My love,” you stuttered, trying your damnedest to keep your voice level, “Could we not stay closer to the ground?”

Aegon chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back even through the various layers you both wore to guard yourselves from the cold air. “Bē konīr, gaomagon jāre!” The prince spoke, Sunfyre grumbled beneath you in response. Although you did not understand the command, and certainly not the beast's response, you could feel the bond between your betrothed and his dragon — some invisible current connecting one to the other. (Almost there, keep going!)

“You should trust me more than this!” Aegon laughs, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to the side of your head, “You seemed to have plenty of it the night of the banquet last week,” he began in that brash, cocky tone you’d grown accustomed to, “When you let me shove my head up your dress in the gardens onc—"

“Aegon!” You chided, one hand abandoning the leather straps long enough to playfully swat him on the thigh.

“What?” He asks, no doubt smirking deviously, “Surely there is no one to overhear us up here!”

Suddenly, Sunfyre tilts forward, righting you in the saddle once again and making you let out an embarrassing squeal. “Gīda, Sunfyre! Dohaeris!” Some small amount of happiness at recognizing one of the words, dohaeris, manages to cut through the fear you feel, making you let out a small giggle. “Almost there, sweetling,” Aegon smiles, one of his hands abandoning the reins to wind around your waist instead, holding you securely to him, “You’ll love this.” (Calm, Sunfyre! Obey!)

Still squeezing your eyes shut, you nod wordlessly, tightly gripping onto his forearm, your thighs trembling around Sunfyre’s saddle. “Are we up very high?” You ask, your voice sounding small, even to your own ears.

Aegon chuckles again, eyes scanning the horizon as the golden dragon finally breeches the clouds, “We’re just as high as we need to be, hush.” The vague answer makes you uneasy, but you do feel slightly calmer as you notice a change in the air. It’s calmer now, breezing around you like a soothing song, making your hair flutter about gently rather than whip at your face. It’s quieter too, you cannot even hear birdsong nor the rushing of air anymore, as if the two of you have entered a void.

“Sȳz, Sunfyre. Gaomagon gīda.” Again, Sunfyre grumbles, his agreement to whatever Aegon commanded vibrating through your body. A moment later, the prince runs a hand through your hair, tenderly brushing it away from your face as he presses another light kiss to your cheek, one arm still holding onto you tightly. “Open your eyes, my love.” He says softly, resting his chin on your shoulder. (Good Sunfyre, keep steady.)

Cautiously, you do as he asks and slowly open your eyes. At first, you cannot see much, blinking to dispel the tears brought on by bright sunlight, but once your eyes finally adjust, you gasp. You can feel your eyes widen to the sight before you, one unlike any you’ve seen before. Aegon had brought you up above the clouds, the dreary grey skies that had once been above you now spread out below you like an endless pale sea. Up here, everything was so bright, slightly pink tinted from the sun, and so stunningly still and calm, the only movement coming from Sunfyre gliding through the air.

“Gods,” you breathe, your grip finally loosening somewhat on Aegon’s arm as you scan the skies before you, “Aegon, it’s…” You trail off, mouth hanging open at a loss for words.

“Beautiful,” he finishes, though when you turn your head to him, his gaze is already fixed on you, the corners of his lips turned up into a barely there smile.

You can feel your face heat up at his attention, suddenly all too aware of how much of your bodies are pressed together on the saddle, of how his arm is still wrapped so securely around you. Despite being so far up in the cool atmosphere, you can feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks, your heart beating faster as a pleasant, familiar coil starts spiraling in your stomach – your thighs tightening around the firm leather of the saddle in an attempt to press together.

“You were right,” you smile contentedly at Aegon over your shoulder, “It is magical up here, my love. And so calm and quiet…” You let your voice trail off as you relax into his chest, his warmth encompassing you as Sunfyre continues gliding above the clouds, his beautiful golden scales gleaming in the early evening sunlight.

Every once in a while, pockets in the thick cloud floor open up, giving you glimpses of green farmer’s fields, the blue water of lakes, or the dusty browns of the roads that litter Westeros. The pockets seem to zip by as quickly as they come, leaving you unsure of exactly where you are above the kingdoms. “I feel so far away from everything.” You conclude finally, a strange sense of calmness threading its way through the unease that still blankets your belly.

“Precisely,” Aegon answers, a far-away look taking hold in his dark violet eyes, one you had grown used to seeing over the course of your courtship with the prince.

Now it seemed as if it was your turn to gaze at him instead of the view, letting him have a moment to himself as you admired him, eyes trailing over the gentle slope of his nose, the pout of his pink lips, the alabaster column of his neck. You couldn’t help but squeeze his forearm tighter, trying to ground him you suppose — ironic as it was — to save him from whatever snare he had been trapped in in his mind.

All at once, whatever melancholy had taken hold of him seems to wash away with a small gasp as he comes back to himself, centering you with a calm smile, though to you it may as well be as dazzling as the sparkle of Sunfyre’s scales.

“We are indeed far away up here, sweetling,” he drawls, the familiar smooth, cocky cadence back in his voice sending a shiver up your spine, butterflies erupting in your belly. “Away from court, away from guards,” he continues, trailing light kisses down the slope of your neck and onto your shoulder, relishing the way you sigh and go ever more limp against him, “Away from any prying eyes at all, really.” He finishes, raising his eyebrows in sarcastic surprise as he shrugs.

You can’t help but laugh at his tone, morphing into an uncontained moan as his teeth lightly graze your shoulder, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end as your head tilts back against him. “Up here?” You ask, your voice already breathy.

He chuckles against you, low and dirty, “What better place is there, sweet girl?” He asks, rutting against you atop the saddle, making you gasp as you feel his hard length pressing against the small of your back, “There’s no one up here to stop us, no one to see us…” he husks, pressing wet kisses against your neck as his hand, the one not currently wrapped around you, abandons Sunfyre’s reins, coming instead to press against your breasts – his touch, even through your layers of clothing, making your nipples harden, the coil in your belly winding ever tighter.

You whine as he touches you, unable to resist him even after all this time. “Aegon, please,” you whimper, gasping as you feel him unbuttoning your overcoat, sending a chill down your spine from the cold air against your skin. You’re unable to find it within yourself to care when you feel his warm hand, encased in a smooth leather glove, encompass your breast, lithe fingers immediately seeking out your nipple and teasing it relentlessly, “Oh, my love!” You gasp, grinding your hips down against the leather of Sunfyre’s saddle.

He shushes you gently, teeth grazing against the side of your neck once more before you feel his lips curl into a smirk. Slowly, he removes his hand from where it’s nestled beneath your overcoat and dress, chuckling when you whine; quickly, he pulls off one of his riding gloves, tucking it securely into a coat pocket. “Suck,” he says simply, pressing his fingers against your lips. You do as he says without complaint, running your tongue over the digits before properly sucking at them, moaning unabashedly when he presses them further against your tongue. “Gods,” he groans, voice deep and gravelly, “I love being in your sweet little mouth,” he murmurs, letting you suck contentedly for a moment longer, “Such a good girl, drooling around my fingers.”

His praise makes you moan, garbled around his fingers, as your eyes roll back in your head, your head bobbing as you suck, drool pooling at the corners of your lips as you lathe your tongue over his fingers.

All too soon, he pulls them away, making you whine at the loss. However, that quickly turns into a loud, punched out moan when he resumes teasing your nipple, your spit instantly cooling in the air, which only serves to make the bud somehow harder. He groans with you as he spreads the slick around your breast, rutting his hard length against you.

“Sweetling,” he begins, a hint of taunting laughter in his voice, “Do you remember what we did during the last hunt? Hm? Hidden away in one of my tents?”

You whimper, nodding as the memory floods back to you – the two of you sneaking away together during the final night of a large, week long, hunt, leaving everyone else feasting and dancing at the campfires. You were both giggling like children, half-drunk on Dornish wine, when you’d stumbled into one of Aegon’s tents, lips crashing together haphazardly in the dark. It had ended with you on your knees, taking the prince into your mouth as he leaned back against a storage chest, his hands tangled in your hair as your lips and tongue skirted up and down his length.

The memory still floods you with arousal; it hadn’t been your first time pleasuring Aegon in that way, but it had been by far the most daring. “I have not felt your mouth on me in some time, my love,” he teases, moving you back against his length, still trapped in the confines of his trousers, “And we’re so hidden up here, no one to walk in and catch us, it would be a shame not to use the chance while we have it…”

Despite the circumstances, his offer is tempting; you love bringing him pleasure, love hearing the little gasps and moans he makes escape his lips. “How would we?” you ask, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder, his violet eyes full of desire, “All the way up here, I mean.”

“You trust me?” Aegon asks, placing both of his hands on your hips.

You nod instantly, not even needing to give his question a second of thought, “Of course, you know I do.” You answer truthfully.

Smiling, he slowly moves his hands until they come to rest at your hips. “Gīda, Sunfyre. Rȳbagon naejot nyke,” he commands the dragon before once again looking at you. “Okay, my love,” he taps one of your thighs, “Just bring this leg up and over the saddle, yeah? Like on a horse.” (Steady, Sunfyre. Listen to me.)

“Oh, definitely, just like on a horse,” you say sarcastically, an attempt to keep your nervousness at bay, which makes Aegon chuckle behind you. Slowly, you do as he says, leaning back onto him for support as you swing your leg up and over Sunfyre’s massive saddle, coming to sit side-saddle atop the beast.

“Okay, good,” Aegon smiles, keeping his hands tight on your waist, “Now just turn…” He murmurs in concentration, patiently helping you turn your torso to face him, and sighing happily when you do. “And the other leg,” he commands, steadying you as you bring your opposite leg back over the saddle, “Perfect.” He praises you as you right yourself again, now facing him.

You give yourself a moment to breathe, getting used to facing the opposite direction. As soon as you look at the prince, though, that coil of arousal that was winding itself tight in your belly starts moving once again when you notice his eyes scanning over your chest, a sliver of your skin exposed from where your overcoat remains unbuttoned, your own underneath pulled to the side.

His eyes meet yours, and he smirks when he notices your own arousal. All at once, the two of you crash together once again – lips colliding together as you moan into each other's mouths, hands grasping onto whatever parts of the prince you can reach; you bite his lip teasingly, making Aegon growl.

“Little minx,” he breathes against your neck as he kisses down your jaw, “Wanting to suck my cock so badly you’d risk life and limb on a dragon.” He teases, smirking when your hands shoot out to undo the ties and buttons at the top of his trousers.

Rolling your eyes, you finally manage to free his length, making him let out a relieved groan. You languidly stroke him for a moment, savoring the broken, choked off moans he breathes into your mouth, the flushed tip of his cock already leaking onto your hand.

“Gods,” he groans lowly, his hips already fucking up into your hand, “Your mouth, my love, please!” He asks, his eyes squeezed shut.

Smirking, you kiss your way down his jaw before carefully leaning forward, pressing yourself against the firm leather saddle until your face is level with him. You give a quick kiss to the underside of the tip, right where you know a little sensitive ball of nerves lies, before you softly run your tongue over the head; you’re a goner as soon as the salty taste of him hits your tongue, losing yourself in the task as always. With a whimper, you begin bobbing your head up and down along his cock, one of your hands coming up to stroke the small bit at the base that you can’t fit in your mouth.

One of Aegon’s hands comes up and wraps itself in your hair, pulling it back and away from your face as he grinds up into the heat of your mouth. “Fuck,” he moans, long and low as he tilts his head back, “So good, so good, fuck.” He repeats, already lost in the way you feel, in how dutifully you pleasure him – just like a good little wife should, and he knows you will be the best wife for him.

You close your eyes, head spinning with adrenaline as you continue pleasuring him, the hand at the base of his cock moving lower to cup his stones and gently roll them in your palm, just the way you know he adores. The effect is instantaneous, a punched-out groan wrenching itself from his throat as his abdomen contracts, making him jerk in your hold. You chuckle around him, drool slipping out of the corners of your mouth as you smile around his length, pleased to have reduced him to such a state already.

The noises he’s making, along with the feel of him in your mouth, hot and heavy on your tongue, make you clench around nothing, whining onto his length, which catches his attention. You hear him chuckle above you, laughter turning to a pleasured hiss when you suck him deeper into your mouth, “Is having my cock in your mouth getting to you, sweetling?” He questions in the same cocky tone you’ve come to know so well, “Making your little bud ache?”

You nod around him as best you can, moaning around him when the hand in your hair clutches the strands tightly, leading you in the exact rhythm he wants as he ruts in and out of your mouth. He lets out a pleased hum, “I’ll take care of you, my love,” he promises, pressing you lower on his length, his eyes rolling back when he feels you spit and gag around him, “Fuck, just as soon as I finish down this pretty throat.”

At that, you redouble your efforts, moaning around his cock as you suck him down eagerly. He starts grumbling in Valyrian under his breath, a sure sign that he’s close, as if the way he was fisting your hair and panting into the cool air wasn’t enough of an indication. Right when he lets out a deep moan of your name, almost sounding in pain, you move the fist around his base faster and press your tongue to the sensitive underside of his head as you suckle on it, one of your hands tugging at his stones in just the right manner.

“Fuck!” He spits out, his body tensing up as he presses you further down onto his cock, a deep, resonating growl leaving him at the same second that his hot seed spurts directly down your throat as his length pulses and twitches in your grasp. You moan at the familiar taste of him, your eyes slipping shut as you allow him to use your throat, swallowing down the last few drops of his seed while he whispers your name again and again in reverence.

Finally, his hips stop twitching and the hand in your hair falls limp, allowing you to pull away from him. You sit up, moaning in surprise when he immediately tangles his hands in your hair again and pulls your face to his, uncaring that you’d swallowed down his spend mere seconds before as he bites your lip and tangles your tongue with his.

You press yourself against him, sighing when you feel the warmth of his chest against yours, his body somehow hot despite the temperature, as if lit from within like Sunfyre. “Such a good wife,” he sighs against your lips, “How have I come to deserve you?”

“We are not yet married!” you laugh, shaking your head as you marvel at him, taking in the way his cheeks are still lightly flushed.

“A moon's time is close enough,” he shrugs, violet eyes gazing at you with adoration, though growing darker when he catches the sliver of your chest still exposed where your coat is open, “Turn back around.” He whispers suddenly, his voice husky.

You don’t bother questioning him, simply nodding, although his hands are already back on your waist, helping you turn back around on the dragon’s saddle.

“Need to touch you,” he explains anyway, contently humming, low in his chest, when you’re pressed against him once more, “Need to make you feel good – you deserve to feel good.” He babbles, mostly talking to himself as he skirts his hands over your body. “Lenton sir, Sunfyre. Soves!” He commands, grabbing at the reins with his still-gloved hand, coaxing the large beast into a slow, smooth turn, although he still held you tightly to him until the dragon was once again gliding – his huge, rosy wings slicing through the air with practiced ease. (Home now, Sunfyre. Go!)

“Where –”

“Home,” Aegon huffs, fingers desperately tugging open the remaining buttons on your coat, frantically pushing the fabric out of the way as soon as the last one is pulled undone, eager to get his hands on your soft skin.

“But –” You start, only to be cut off as he groans impatiently, practically ripping the skirts of your dress in an effort to push them to the side, exposing your smallclothes.

“We’ll have time, sweetling,” he breathes, pushing a hand into the thin fabric, groaning when he feels how wet your slick folds are, so warm against his skin, “It’s not like it takes me long to bring you pleasure.” You can hear the boastful pride dripping from his low voice as he speaks against the side of your neck, his warm breath sending a shiver up your spine as your back arches against him.

“Oh!” You gasp as you feel his fingers finally touching you, immediately zeroing in on your aching, swollen bud with a practiced ease, sending electricity zipping up your spine.

“Ooh, someone’s sensitive,” he teases, rubbing tight, wet circles against you as his gloved hand finds its way into your coat again, yanking down the fabric of your dress before he cups your breast, kneading the delicate skin in time with the ministrations to your cunt, “Do you enjoy my fingers, sweetling?”

You nod, already panting heavily in his grasp, your body going from rigid to pliant as you moan unabashedly in the air, not needing to be mindful of your volume all the way up here – Sunfyre as your only witness seems wholly uninterested. He chuckles against your neck as he bites at the sensitive skin, the small pinpricks of pain only adding to the pleasure radiating from your core.

You buck up against him as you feel two of his fingers venture lower, prodding at the opening of your slick heat, gathering some of the wetness there before roughly pushing them into you. You grunt out a curse as you feel them enter you completely, Aegon not bothering to tease them into you as he usually does and instead pressing incessantly against that rough spot within you that makes you see stars.

“Aegon, my love,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his hand, his thumb catching against your bud as his fingers continue tormenting your center, scissoring and curling within you, “I’m–” You cut yourself off, unable to finish a thought with the way he’s handling you.

“I know you’re close,” he grunts, his hands moving frantically against you as you shake against his chest, one hand plucking and pinching at your nipple as the other fucks into your squelching wet heat, “I can feel this lovely cunt squeezing me.”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck!” You cry in time with the thrusts of his hand, your head tilting back onto his shoulder as you feel your high creeping ever closer, the fire in your belly growing to a blazing, roaring inferno.

He laughs lowly as he mouths at the spot just below your ear, never tiring of being able to reduce you to such a base state, moaning and writhing in his arms. “Go on, sweetling,” he coaxes you, fingers rubbing up against that rough patch within you ceaselessly as his thumb circles your bud in the same rhythm, “Let yourself have it – you’re so close, let yourself feel good, my good girl, my love.” He begs between love bites, panting against your neck as you fuck yourself against his fingers.

“Aegon!” You cry, your eyes squeezing shut as your entire body tenses with a sob, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as wave after wave of pleasure crashes into you. Your walls grip desperately at his fingers, coating his hand in your sweet juices as stars explode behind your eyelids, a vicious, loud moan punching out of your chest at the intensity of your high.

Eventually, the waves begin to subside, leaving you whimpering pathetically against him as he continues gently pleasuring you, helping you ride out your peak for as long as your body will allow. After a moment though, his fingers finally come to a stop when he hears your small whimpers and whines, indicating that his touches are bordering on overstimulating you.

He coos lovingly, soothing you with soft touches and kisses against your cheek as he licks your spend from the hand that had been fucking you, savoring your taste with drawn out, dirty moans, taking pleasure in the way it made you blush and squirm like you were still the innocent maiden everyone believes you to be.

“Ñuha gevie ābrazȳrys,” Aegon murmurs after a moment, violet eyes studying you as he peeks from over your shoulder, “Nyke daor umbagon naejot dīnagon ao.” (My beautiful wife, I cannot wait to marry you.)

You don’t know what the words mean but they sound so beautiful coming from his pouty lips that you cannot help the blush that blooms on your cheeks, the sight making him chuckle.

“Look,” he says, pointing into the distance, “You’ll love this.”

Following the tip of his finger, you narrow your eyes, not seeing anything for a second. Just as you’re about to inquire as to what exactly you’re supposed to be looking at, you gasp, watching with wide eyes as the tallest tower of the Red Keep emerges from behind a cloud.

“Seven,” you whisper, watching as the rest of the large fortress is slowly revealed, followed by the large domes of the Dragonpit and the Sept of Baelor, “Oh, Aegon…it’s beautiful.” You whisper, eyes sweeping over the entirety of King’s Landing, from the waves of the shores of Blackwater Bay all the way to small houses of farmers that lie beyond the city walls, all bathed in the golden, pinky lighting of the setting sun.

“Gevie,” he breathes, gaze entirely fixed on you, on the way you hands grasp his, “Gevie ābrazȳrys.” (Beautiful, beautiful wife)

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @avalyaaa @fan-goddess @hopelesswritergall @toms-cherry-trees @aemshaircare @cuddlejeongin @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy @marysucks-blog

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon targaryen smut #aegon smut #house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon smut #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #aegon fanfic #smut #fanfic #my writing

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gojoest · 9 months

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non-explicit but suggestive, creampie implied, MDNI, gojo is being dramatic after he wakes up without you in bed

it smells like the sun, satoru thinks, as he wakes up to the sunlight creeping in through the blinds, hitting his face with a warm glow. his eyes are still closed, a soft smile spread on his lips elicited by the memories of last night, of you chanting his name like a little prayer as your bodies were locked together. the longer he thinks of it, the bigger his smile grows. the way your face flushed and contorted as he dived into you, the way your hands grabbed his hips to push him even deeper, the way your fingers intertwined and your foreheads pressed against each other until you both came down from your high.

*slap*

“shit”, he smacks himself across the face because his smile started evolving into little giggles, “shit”, but also because something down there, between his legs, was evolving, too, “calm down there, buddy. not now. first, we need to find our cute runaway lover who sneaked out of bed while we were sleeping still”

satoru knew you weren’t in bed the moment his consciousness awakened. he didn’t have to open his eyes to see it nor to reach his hand to your side of the bed only for it to end on the empty mattress. he knew, simply because he always holds you in his arms when in bed, even when you toss around and slip away from his embrace in the middle of the night, his hands find you and pull you back where you belong. it’s an automatic reflex of his body that doesn’t require his brain to create the action. it’s a need, to always be as close as possible to you.

it's a struggle for him to open his eyes now and actually see that you’re not there. a voice at the back of his head, a quite dramatic one at that, tells him to keep them shut until you come back so he doesn’t have to witness your shared bedroom without you in it.

but he beats the urge eventually, a big pout present on his face. why would you deprive him of the feeling of waking up next to you in the morning. what a cruel thing to do, he thinks before grabbing his phone from the nightstand. seeing the picture of you on his lockscreen quickly chases away the pout replacing it with a soft smile.

“but i want the real thing”, he purses his lips again and dials your number.

“how dare you” is the first thing he says as soon as you pick up. you can not only hear the pout in his voice from the other side of the line but almost see it on his cutely dramatic grumpy face, “how dare you sneak out and go grocery shopping without me?”

“oh, you miss me already?”, you let a chuckle out, “i am on my way back, can you hold on for 15 more minutes and not die without me, mm?”

“i can’t promise... my heartbeat is slowing down, i can feel my internal organs shutting down one by one, you have to hurry up or it will be fatal”

“you’re such a baby, satoru”

“exactly. and who leaves a baby alone at home and casually goes grocery shopping? you. you are bad-bad”

you can’t help yourself but stop in the middle of the street and start laughing heartily, “sorry, baby, it won’t happen again. but then again… how did you know i was out grocery shopping?”

“i put a gps tracker on you”

“you what?”, your eyes widen at his words. no, he can’t be this crazy, right?, you think.

“yea, it’s the dna i put inside you last night. it’s like part of me is with you, so it’s only natural that i would know where you are at any given moment”

“you know what, you’re the worst”

#ઈઉ — ai writes #[ ♡ ] — satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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dreamauri · 1 month

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♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part one max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”

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One of the things Max Verstappen despises about being Max Verstappen is being Max Verstappen. Three time world champion, youngest race winner, mad max, f1 dominator, all the fame and media and people following him around. It's very hard to get a moment of peace or be treated normally. When people hear his name they either put on big smiles or ugly frowns. He hates the special treatment.

He misses when he could have a conversation without people recording or judging him. Without people whispering about him, or fake being his friend for whatever fame. When people would just spend time with him for the sake of spending time, or having a conversation for the sake of friendly socialization and conversation. Luckily though for the Dutch, in this day and age, Max could just enter a spare email in Discord and make a second lowkey account.

The pfp was a random photo of Max, a meme. Lowkey enough, Max decided after staring at the profile long enough before opening DiscoBoard. After scrolling and searching, he was dawned upon with a relatively small server with only 280 people online, surrounding sim racing. After he followed instructions on the welcome page like verifying he's not a robot and picking roles, he got his first ping.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Max met you in August of 2022. The way you talked and messed around with him got him constantly checking his phone for notifications over the next months. The way you befriended him and were relaxed around him once the two of you got to know each other, it kept him sane. And although Max didn't really reveal a lot about himself except that his work required a lot of traveling and effort, you trusted him enough to share about your own life up in France, ranting about your weird encounters as an employee at Cisco.

The blonde’s favorite part about getting home was plopping in his gaming chair and switching his Discord accounts. Pulling his headphones on and navigating through the server, he joined the active voice chat. It was as if he was switching lives, turning off Max Verstappen to be an irrelevant 26 year old.

“A millioooon.” you sang like you always did, a nickname you’d given him since amilian sounded like a million.

“Laaaaa.” Max sang back with a chuckle before greeting the other acquaintances present on the call.

“How was your weekend?” You hummed.

“Same as always. Maybe a bit shittier this time.” He sighed, seeing you were on Gran Turismo from your shared screen.

“I’d love to beat up someone for you.” You always offer when he’s down. The blonde would laugh and shake his head even though you can’t see. You never cease to bring him a smile with your tone and jokes and hearty aura, despite being kilometers up north. "We're waiting for Josh to take a few rounds around spa, you wanna join?"

"Oh, yes please." friendly racing with no consequences, points or championship? just friends messing around and enjoying themselves? Yes please.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You see the new verstappen photos that just dropped, Mr. Max Verstappen nerd?" Max looked up from his phone, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at your dm chat where the two of you decided to move the call once everyone else put down the steering wheel for the night.

"This one is from Bahrain I think . . . you know, I'm starting to take a liking to him." Max rolled his eyes playfully at your words. "To be honest, I was kind of disappointed this weekend." Max rubbed his eyes, looking up at your profile picture.

"Why what happened?" He asked even though he probably knew all too well the events of the Australian grand prix.

"Max DNFed on the third or fifth lap." You sighed.

"Oh yeah?" Max hummed, pursing his lips, not wanting to recall the memories. "What's so bad about that? I thought you were a die hard Charles fan?" he asked.

"Excuse you, I'm a die hard Fernando fan." You joked in a sassy tone which pulled a chuckle from him.

"What is it about Max DNFing that is bothering you then?" Max himself asked, putting his phone down to concentrate on your voice.

"I just don't—" you sighed deeply. On your end of the call you rolled back in your chair, getting up and flopping on your bed with your phone in hand.

When you did answer his question, all Max heard was mumbles because your voice was muffled by your pillow. "Can't hear you, La. Aren't you happy about the Carlando podium? You were so happy about it last year."

"I am happy, I am. But Max . . . well Max . . . i don't know." you grumbled frustrated. "He's such a good driver, and deserves a lot— he works really really hard."

Max never thought he'd hear you talking about him like that. He'd usually hear other people on the server dissing him and cursing him. And although you were always mostly neutral with the drivers, the way you spoke about Max tonight melted his heart. It also felt very wrong.

While you turned and laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling of your room, venting your feelings about a driver who you thought didn't know you existed, said driver folded his arms on his desk and leaned forward, resting his chin on his arms listening to you vent about how much you were amazed and proud even though you don't know him personally or him not being your favorite driver.

Max glanced up at his monitor as you sighed to gather your thoughts. "Sometimes when i look at him, he reminds me of myself. I never really got to go past karting, but for some reason I see a little bit of y/n in him."

"—Y/n?" He sat up hearing the name.

"I—" You face palmed upon the realization.

"Is that your name?" Max asked. You nodded briefly with a sigh but he couldn't see.

"Unfortunately." You sighed. "Weird name, I know—"

"I like it." He reassured. "It's not like Amilian is any better." he tried to lighten the mood, working slightly.

"A million." you giggled making him chuckle back.

"A million, " he repeated quieter, a small smile on his face as he leaned his chin back down on his arm.

Such a foolish thing to do, taking a liking to a woman you've never met.

Voice notes . . . ( my brain is like a zoo rn, starting projects and not being able to track anything while working on everything at the same time )Word count - ( 1, 165 ) credits for proof reading -> @classiclitfreak (check out their blog!!)

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lale-txt · 2 months

Text

❉ in a long-distance relationship ↳ w/ Nanami & Naoya (separate)

a/n: getting into my clown car because originally i was planning to write this for four characters in total, then i blinked and suddenly i had written over 2k words in headcanons and drabbles and decided to call it a day. i personally want to thank Nanami and Naoya for representing the both flawless and horrendous ends of the spectrum regarding my taste in fictional men ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

contains: headcanons are sfw & gn!reader, drabbles are ns.fw & afab!reader. i'll put individual warnings before each drabble later in the text.

word count: 2.3k

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

the driest texter known to man

it’s not like Nanami won’t think of you and text you throughout the day, it’s more that his texts read as if they’re coming from your tax consultant rather than from the love of your life

“Arrived at the accommodation. Room is very clean. About to head out for work, will call you later tonight. Love you, K. PS: Heard Lawson has cabbage on sale this week.”

he’s never beating the old man allegations

it’s an obstacle that yours and his work often requires you both to travel and spend time apart, but to Nanami, once committed, long distance was never a reason for things not to work out between you

he keeps his promises and calls when he said he would, he sends you flowers when he can’t bring them back home in person and he orders you food when you’re having a rough day, staying on the phone with you while you eat and letting you vent if you need to

when he misses you (which he always does), he lets you know. no matter how far apart, Nanami would never make you doubt if you’re on his mind and in his heart

often he’d send you photos of his lunch or local specialities, sometimes photos from the local pigeons too when they’d pick up the crumbs of his sandwich at his feet

“Those two seem inseparable. Made me think of us. Miss your voice, will call you tonight. What are you having for lunch? Careful when you cut the cabbage.”

at night, after another draining day of fighting curses, the only thing keeping Nanami going is the prospect of hearing your voice over the speaker

he will close his eyes and imagine you snuggled up in bed while talking to him, waiting for him to come home, and oh, how badly he wants to be by your side and never let you go

cw: afab!reader (no pronouns used, 'cunt' and 'pussy' used to describe genitalia), phone sex, panty sniffing, masturbation (with said panties), dirty talk, breeding kink (no mention of pregnancy or babies), mention of: brat taming, mirror sex and hair pulling

“Sorry, love. Were you asleep already?”

Nanami’s voice is quiet, almost like an apology for calling you this late. He knows you’re always staying up and fighting your sleepiness, despite him telling you not to wait for him—he’s grateful you do though, because hearing your voice is the one thing that will get him through each day, no matter how long it drags on.

“Mhm, not quite yet,” you mumble into your phone and smile at the sound of his voice. “‘m all cozy in bed though, it still smells like you. Only missing your warmth.”

Nanami laughs quietly at the other end of the line. He has no problems imagining you right now, having the big bed you bought together all for yourself but still curling up on his side of the mattress, where his scent still lingers. He hums softly.

“That was quite the surprise I found in my pocket this morning.”

You hear some rustling sounds and a pair of pants getting unzipped, and the grin on your face widens. Putting your phone on speaker, you set it down on the pillow next to you and roll over on your back, feeling more awake now.

“Well? Did you like it?”, you coo.

“Loved it.”

The panties you slipped into Nanami’s jacket before he left are now dangling from his finger in the dim light of the bedside lamp. He picked them out for you a while ago and now you were simply returning the favor, knowing how lonely it can get on a solo mission. He closes his big fist around them and brings them to his face, inhaling your musk and making him groan quietly. His cock aches in his boxers, precum staining them slightly, but he doesn’t touch himself yet.

“God, I miss you,” he mutters after catching another whiff of your worn panties. “Want to taste you so badly, love. When I get home, I’ll have you sit on my face till your legs give out.”

You chuckle at the prospect of it. Wouldn’t be the first time.

“Did you touch yourself with my panties?”, you ask in a sultry voice and you can hear Nanami growl a little at the other end of the line.

“I’m doing it right now,” he replies in a husky voice, having his bottoms hastily pulled down his thighs and now fisting his cock with your panties wrapped around it. The fabric feels soft and expensive, and the thought of how they clung to your cunt when you soaked through them has his mind spinning circles.

“Good. I want to hear you cum,” you whisper, closing your eyes for a better imagination. “Tell me what you want to do with me when you’re back home.”

Nanami pumps his fat cock with one hand, the other holding his phone to his ear. He’s sprawled out in an armchair, head in the back of his neck, his eyes shut as well. His breath comes out raggedly.

“Gonna fill your pretty little cunt to the brim,” he mumbles. “Tongue, fingers, cock. Everything. Whatever you beg for, I’ll give it to you. Gonna pump you so full of my cum, you’ll have it ruin your panties for days, but you’d like that, don’t you?”

“Fuck,” you mewl at the other end of the line, kicking back the sheets and spreading your legs to touch yourself to his words. Your fingers reached nowhere as deep as Nanami's, but it was better than nothing.

“Gonna bend you over and fuck you on every flat surface in our house,” he rasps. “In front of the big mirror too, so you can see the faces you make when you cum on my cock. Wanna feel how tight you get when you’re milking me. As if you’re trying to remember the shape of my cock forever. Made for me, only me. And if you’re gonna be a brat, which I know you will, I’ll stuff your mouth with your panties and pull your hair till I fucked some obedience into you.”

Nanami groans; he is so close. Damn, if only you were here for him to bury himself in the warmth of your cunt. Your whimpering at the other end of the line and your panties wrapped around his cock as he pumps himself are enough to send him tumbling over the edge, a supernova of pent up lust and frustration unleashing within him. The silken fabric soaks up all of his cum, sticky and hot against his skin. He made a mess, but cleaning up was for later.

“You good, love?”, he asks in a raspy voice and can’t help but smile at the sound of your heavy breathing.

“Came so hard I saw stars a little,” you confess over the speaker and snicker. You’ll definitely have to change the sheets before Nanami gets home. As if you two wouldn’t ruin them anyway.

“Good, good,” he laughs. “Now sleep, dear, I kept you up for too long. I’ll be home tomorrow night, okay? Can’t wait to kiss you.”

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐎𝐘𝐀

Naoya hates being apart from you and he doesn’t understand why you take on missions that require you to leave the Zen’in estate aka him

in his eyes, as his spouse there’s no need for you to work at all, you should just stay at home with him or accompany him on his business trips

he can and he will yap about this while you pack your bags, while he drives you to the train station (he insists to escort you there himself), while carrying your luggage and even between goodbye kisses. seriously, this man never learned how to shut up in his entire life

the night prior, Naoya had made sure to leave plenty of hickeys all over your body, as a reminder who you belong to

he’s clearly bored out of his mind without you around, your phone blowing up with text and voice messages from him, demanding your unrestricted attention and getting pouty when you don’t immediately reply to him

it’s not like Naoya is jealous or worried that you’d see someone else behind his back–his ego is too big to consider this even a possibility

he’s simply the undefeated champion in the pain in the ass competition

he’ll act nonchalant when you call him once you’re back at your hotel, trying to sound as if he wasn’t pacing restlessly around all day until his phone finally lit up with your name on display

asking you about your day comes second, first you’ll have to listen to him whining how much it sucks without you around and that this’ll be the last time that he’s allowing you as your husband to go on a solo mission (he’s ignoring your unrestrained laughter about it), and that you’ll have to think of something to make it up to him on your way home which will be in 3 days, 11 hours and 27 minutes (he’s counting)

cw: afab!reader (no pronouns used, 'cunt' and 'pussy' used to describe genitalia), video call sex, dirty talk, masturbation, praise kink, mention of spitting, sweet talking Naoya into submission, he has nipple piercings in this one, Naoya being his own warning

“Seriously? You couldn’t wait three seconds to at least show me your face before flipping the camera to your dick?”

You lie on your stomach in a hotel bed that’s way too big for you alone, fresh out of the shower, glancing down at your phone in your hand. After a long day of fighting an extremely nasty curse, you crave nothing more than rubbing one out to the voice of your husband and passing out immediately afterwards. Your hips grind lazily into a pillow between your legs, feeling that familiar throb, while Naoya on the other end strokes himself on display as slowly, his thumb drawing circles over his leaking tip. His moans are slightly muffled over the speaker.

“Can’t help it, babe, I’ve been like this all day, aching for ya. Had my cock throbbing even at family dinner. Been thinking about nothing other than stuffing all of yer greedy holes. Just look–”

The movements of the video get a bit shaky when he fists his cock, pumping himself at a leisurely pace. You’ve memorized every vein of his cock, feeling your mouth water a little at the sight of it. While Naoya wasn’t a size king, he had the girth and you vividly remember how he knocked the air out of your lungs when he pounded you into the mattress for the very first time. You roll your hips some more, chasing for the right friction to get you off, the camera still aimed at your face.

“Then gimme a show at least,” you whine and put on a small pout which you know Naoya can never resist. If there’s anything Naoya loves, then it’s attention and praise, and he is way too easy to bait into whatever could offer him that.

“Oh, ‘m gonna give yer a show, baby. Gonna make ya regret not being here with me. I’d have ya drooling all over my cock if yer were here with me now,” he rattles. “Would spit in yer mouth, that’s how ya like it, dontcha?”

The display turns dark and blurry for a moment, and you can practically feel the excitement from the other end of the line when Naoya props his phone up against something to have his hands free. He is so obedient at times, yet he would hate to hear that. For the first time today you get a glimpse of his face now, the pink of his tongue poking out slightly between his lips, his hakama pants hanging unfastened from his hips, his cock resting heavy on his thigh when he leans back.

“The shirt, too,” you demand. “Take it off.”

“Nah, too many buttons,” Naoya huffs and grips his cock again, making sure to angle it just right at the camera. Oh, how he wished you were on your knees before him right now. All the ways he’d mess you up.

“Then pull it up at least. C’mon, put it in your mouth like I do it for you sometimes,” you coax him in your sweetest, sultriest voice. “I know you can be a good boy for me.”

Naoya’s hips yerk up slightly at the praise and he lets out a shaky breath, clearly trying to restrain himself from coming too fast. His resilience is crumbling so easily at the sight of your pretty face and he hastily grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, biting down on it to keep the fabric from sliding down again. One nice side effect of this was that with his mouth stuffed, he would shut up for once.

“Mmm, yes. That’s it, so good, aren’t you?” you coo and have Naoya gripping his cock tighter, his movements getting sloppy. His abs contracted with every jerk of his hand, and soon he was whining and panting, legs spread apart so beautifully for your perfect view.

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?”, you ask while grinding against your pillow, mesmerized by the sight on your display. Seeing a man like Naoya falter so easily at your words alone has you feeling a certain kind of arousal, pooling right in your stomach.

It makes you want to wreck him entirely.

Naoya nods and whimpers, using his free hand to play with his nipple piercing, all while his other pumps himself into a higher sphere. His hips are bucking and precum is drooling from his pink tip, making a mess out of him and amplifying the lewd sounds.

He doesn’t last long, and when he cums thick white ropes fall onto his stomach, his mouth hanging agape. His cheeks are flushed and he mewls while he keeps stroking himself, milking every last drop out of him while chanting your name in a needy voice.

This. This might be your favorite sight ever.

“Such a good boy. So good for me. Now bend over for me, hm? Show’s not over yet.”

#jjk x reader #nanami x reader #naoya x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento x reader #naoya zenin x reader #jjk reader insert #jjk x you #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #nanami kento #naoya zenin

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lexabitxh · 3 months

Text

S.W | Drunk Confession

summary: y/n gets a bit too drunk, and confesses her feelings unknowingly to sam winchester.

perspective: third person.

word count: 1837

The night was young and the Winchesters & l/n had finished up a case that took several days. It felt good to win. It was a pride and joy feeling they got to feel other than guilt and disappointment from other unsuccessful cases.

"Another round, on me."

Y/n said as she signaled the bartender and pointed at their empty shot glasses. It's been a long day and genuinely, they all needed this. A moment to unwind after a long week of hunting.

"You sure you haven't had enough?"

Sam said as he looked a little concerned. Y/n scoffed, "Now I understand why your brother calls you so uptight. Stop being such a chick, Sam" she said, while taking down another shot of rum.

Sam felt the need to be the one sober for the night. Usually he'd drink a few shared beers with Dean, but being that Y/n was tagging along, it required someone responsible to take care of the two. Dean let out a chuckled, "I'm starting to like her" he said, pointing at her while popping a fry into his mouth. Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance at the two's behavior, they always acted so childish.

•

"Dean, you're drunk-"

"I'm not drunk, I'm awesome" Dean slurred his words, laughing as he clinked his glass of beer with Y/n. They've been drinking for hours and slowly but surely they were starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Sam shook his head in disappointment, not sure what to do anymore.

"Stop being such a party pooper, Sam and loosen up a little. Just have one drink with us." she insisted while playfully nudging his shoulder with hers.

You'd think since you can't beat them, you might as well join them... but being that Sam was... well Sam, he'd spend the rest of his night looking after the two, hoping they wouldn't get themselves into any trouble.

•

'Na-na-na, come on

Na-na-na, come on'

S&M was blasting through the speakers, while Sam drove the car back to their motel. Dean sat in the passenger seat, his window rolled down as he was swaying his upper body to the beat, bopping his head to the rhythm. Y/n sat in the back, her hands in the air while singing to the top of her lungs.

She could feel the liquor coming up to surface, but managed to contain herself together. She knew if she were to throw up inside the impala, Dean would kill her himself and dispose of the body without a sweat.

'Love is great, love is fine (oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

Out the box, outta line (oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)'

Sam kept glancing from Dean to Y/n, laughing just a little. He's never seen this side of Dean before. It was nice seeing him all loose and happy, it's as if everything they've done in life so far, all the good and bad things had disappeared for the time being.

"'Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it. Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it!!" Y/n sang while Dean tried his very best, but fail miserably as most of his words came out sounding gibberish.

Sam contained his laughter as he kept glancing through the review mirror, watching Y/n dance with a drink in her hand, her eyes closed for the most part, but even so, she looked enticing. The way she was feeling herself. Her lips, her eyes, the was she felt the music through her body.

At one point he lost control of the wheel, causing every one of them to jerk just a little. "Eyes in the road, buddy" Dean said as he took another swig from his beer. Sam looked back only to find that Y/n was no longer in his eyes-of-sight.

"Y/n?" He did a quick look-over only to find her slumped in the backseat, passed out. "Great."

•

Sam pulled into the motels parking lot, putting the car in park before turning off the engine. He sat there for a moment, watching Dean struggle to get out before in doing so. To his surprise, Dean had somehow managed to get inside their motel room without a problem. Sam shook his head and he got out to check on Y/n.

"Y/n?"

He had opened her side door and peeped inside, lightly shaking her awake, but she barely moved except making a few grunting noises.

"Mmh??"

"We're back at the motel... c'mon, let's go" he said softly. He knew he wouldn't get anywhere anytime soon with her current state, so with that being he helped her out. "Careful" he said as he grabbed her by her waist and wrapped one arm around his neck.

"Ok, ok, let's make this easier for you" he said as he scooped her up bridal style and carried her back inside. He used his foot to close the door on the way in, looking around for Dean before noticing him dead asleep on the floor.

"Alright... here we go..."

Said Sam as he gently placed her on her bed. He grabbed a blanket and placed it on her as he then removing her boots. Before he could walk away, Y/n grabbed him by his arm.

"Sam..."

Sam stood there awkwardly, looking down at her as the touch of her hand made him feel all sorts of feelings.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you..." she mumbled as she was trying so hard to open her eyes. "You're a good friend" she slurred, causing Sam to chuckle lightly. "Of course" he replied, "Get some rest."

"Also, you're a cute, Sam." she said, which caught him by surprise. "W-what?"

"You. Are. Cute..." she whispered, "and stupid." Sam was taken aback from her last comment, narrowing his brows together as he tried so hard not to smile. "But I like your stupid face. It's so stupid. It's so... I like it. Can I touch it?" she said while attempting to reach for his face, but was far from her touch.

He laughed a little. "You're drunk, Y/n" he said as he brushing her hair to the side.

"Yes I am. And I'm hopelessly in love with Sam Winchester... but it's a secret. Sam can't find out about this" She mumbled.

Sam could feel his cheek burning up about the confession. A smile so wide he could hardly contain his excitement. "Alright, it's our little secrete then" he reassured her.

"Pshhh"

"Shhhh"

He gestured as he smiled down at her.

"Goodnight, y/n" he said, hoping to get one in return, but she had quickly fallen asleep. He stood there for a little longer, watching her sleep peacefully. He shook his head, smiling like an idiot before going to bed. He figured he'd take the opportunity to enjoy the entire bed to himself, considering that Dean had taken the floor.

•

Y/n had woken up to the room spinning, her eyes having a hard time adjusting to the sunlight that shun in her face. She looked around the room. Dean no where to be seen and Sam sitting by the small table, who seems to be reading something off his laptop.

"What time is it?"

She said as she didn't remember how she gotten to bed last night. Sam looked up and smiled, "It's one in the afternoon. Don't worry, there's no case for the day" he assured her. "There's some ibuprofen and a glass of water right next to you" he pointed.

"You're a life saver"

She said, reaching for it as she popped the pills and swallowed it down with the glass of water. The water had quench her thirst, but she still felt hungover. "What happened last night?" She'd asked.

"You mean you don't remember?"

Y/n shook her head, "the last thing I remember was singing in the car to Rihanna. Which now thinking back to it, that was pretty embarrassing" she laughed a little. "you have no idea what you did last night" Sam chuckled mischievously, causing Y/n to worry.

"Samuel. What did I do?"

She asked, unsure of what she might've done that could be so bad other than having a karaoke with Dean Winchester. "I was promised not to tell" he said while gesturing his lips sealed.

"Sammy!" She yelled in annoyance, kneeling on her bed as she was intrigued of what she had done last night. Endless of possibilities had ran through her mind, but none that she could remember of. Sam shook his head, a cheeky smile on his lips as he didn't say a word. "C'mon, Sam! Just tell me!" She pleaded.

Sam knew how'd she react if she knew what she'd done last night, and he didn't wanted to put her through that embarrassment. Though there was nothing to be embarrassed about because if he was too being honest, he felt the same way about her.

"Well, if you really wanna know..." he said as he closed his laptop, "you said my face looks stupid" he said pausing before going on. "And that you liked my stupid face."

It all came back to her. She felt her body go numbed and her cheek flush with a bright burning sensation of red. "You remembered now" Sam teased, causing her to grab ahold of a pillow and shoving her face into it. In that moment, she wanted to die.

"Oh. My. God!"

She cried as she got up from her bed. "Sam, I'm so sorry. I-I was drunk, and it felt easier for me to confess... I didn't want you to find out this way. How embarrassing!" She cried as she buried her face into the palm her hands.

Sam quickly got up. "Hey, it's alright" he reassured her, gently removing her hands from her face and holding them in his.

"I'm glad you told me. Cause I don't think I'd ever have the courage to tell you how I felt" he said. "You, too, have a stupid, cute face" he quoted her, laughing just a little. "And I like that" he added.

"You do?"

Sam nodded as he gotten closer to her, closing the gap between them. "I like you, Y/n." He said as he leaned down to place a soft kiss against her lips. All her worries had melted away in that moment of bliss. She'd dream of this very exact moment, but she'd never imagined this is how it'd happen. Over a drunk confession.

They were soon utterly interrupted by Dean, who had bursted into the room with bags of food. "Woah, what I miss?" He said as he had caught them by surprise.

Y/n and Sam looked at each other, a shade of pink on their cheeks as they held hands like kids in love.

#supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #deancas #sam and dean #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #fanfic #yn #imagine #the winchesters #gif

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nefertitiacai · 11 months

Text

Astro observations : "I GOT IT FROM MY DADDY" (AND MOMMY) edition

yk that one "DADDY" song by PSY sksksk

🪷 Venus in 4th house is an indicater of person being very beautiful and blessed with good looking genetics. They can also be conventionally attractive since 4th house also rules homeland, so they may be deemed as attractive where they live. A genetically blessed placement.

🪷 Jupiter in the 4th house is also an indicator for having a feature that may be "large" that runs through the family. Like being voluptuous or tall. Again a "genetically blessed" placement.

🪷 Sun/Jupiter in the 10th house individuals can learn a lot of stuff related to careers and build connections through their father.

🪷 Moon/Saturn in the second house may have some distinct facial features which resemble their parents. As both are considered planets that rule over parents and the second house rules over face.

🔴 (TW: Generational Trauma) ⏬

(also the observation and remedies which I've mentioned are purely based on generalization, if you may be dealing with it on a serious note then consulting a medical/health care professional is what is required💚)

🪷 Those who have Mars/Chiron/Saturn/Pluto in the 4th house/cancer/conj Moon may beat themselves up for a certain "flaw" which they consider themselves to have. This habit or problem may make them feel powerless. As if they are unable to change it. However, in actuality that "problem" didn't start with them but may be a generational thing/a characteristic which got inherited from a family member. [Our genetics play a major role in general with the way we are today (yes even personality-wise). But one can change it by will and if they indulge in self-improvement techniques like meditation, visualization, journaling with clear intentions, and other mindful activities]

📚 (PS. as a book enthusiast to others who are into reading self help books I'd recommend those who are dealing with such problems to read the book "It Didn't Start with You: How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are and How to End the Cycle" by Mark Wolynn 😃)

(TW: mommy issues) moon conj Pluto placement and being notorious with mommy issues.

However, in my case, I have this placement and I don't feel it to be like that. My relationship with my mom is a very typical one. We have different views on certain stuff but we aren't toxic. Nonetheless, what I consider really to be toxic is my mom's side of the family and her childhood had also not been the best. So this placement actually may be something regarding the fact that your mum had to go through a lot and if you know that fact then it is easy to forgive her and give her a tight hug whenever you can.

This placement can also be an indicator of the child's mom going through a stressful phase during the time of the birth.

🟢 TW over, ok enough with sad stuff now 🤧

🪷 It is an observation but I've noticed Sagittarius, Pisces, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Leo placements folks may resemble their father's looks and personality-wise distinctively. Like there's that one feature that they may also be known for like, "you have a smile like your dad". It may be due to them being ruled by Jupiter, Saturn, and sun respectively, the celestial bodies which deal with "fatherly figures" in astrology.

🪷 Leo, Cancer, Aries, Gemini and Capricorn placements 🤝 acting all wholesome and cute when their mom is around.

🪷 If you and your sibling both have prominent mercury placements then you might hear someone saying this at some point "oh YoU BOth LoOk likE eACh otHer a Lot" and y'all will be like "b*tch no, from which angle, I am obviously more gorgeous 😤"

🪷You know being a Sagittarius 🐎(also honorable mention Aquarius and Pisces) this proverb literally go with us for our parents 'You can lead a horse 🐎 to water but you can't make him drink '

📚[ PS. if the horse is willing then only it'll drink, you can't drink water on its behalf. (That's the universal truth with life btw, you are responsible for your own tasks. Others can only guide you but in the end, it's you who will have to act, innit)]

Even though it is for our own "good" and "wellbeing" that our parents do and force these placements to be doing things in a certain way these placements will only "keep drink up to it" if it gives them a feeling of expansion and freedom. (That's why Sagittarius and Pisces placements are deemed to be "irresponsible" but that's not the case. And Aquarius placements have a reputation to be "rebellious" but that's unlikely. These placements most of the time may think ahead of their time and may have a bigger picture on things that's why they may consider certain tasks to be irrelevant (however it can also backfire and this certainly doesn't mean to be an excuse to run away))

🪷 Virgo and Libra placements tend to have good mannerisms which may be taught by their parents. They are big on punctuality. Also, they are well-behaved and sweet people. Often being talked about as "their parents raised them well".

Virgo is associated with the 6th house which is also the house that rules over service so they tend to be helpful. Libra on the other hand is associated with the 7th house which is the house of partnerships, that's why they like to treat people with kindness and have a pleasing appeal. Like a comrade. (Although this also has a shadow aspect to it, this can make these placements to be perfectionists in unhealthy amounts and they may start to have people-pleasing tendencies. They may also grow pessimistic since many people may view their kindness to be their weakness, which is not true at all you guys, y'all are great and don't fall into what those low vibrational people have to say.)

It's 11:11 while I type this 💫 also, umaru chan is so adorable

#astro community #astrology #astro observations #astrology observations #family #astrology community #astrology placements #astro placements #astro notes

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queer-n-here · 2 months

Note

Making Poe/Sigma ride a dildo PLS.

Also you're a great writer

Hey, thanks! Hope you like this one, too.

Also, I fucking love Sigma. I fucking love him. Him and Tanizaki are the two characters that I simp so hard for I would do anything to have them.

Contents: Making Sigma ride a dildo cuz you had a wet dream about it

Warnings: Smut, top male reader, masturbation, sex toys, nipple play.

It had been on your mind for a while now. More accurately, ever since you'd had that dream about Sigma riding a dildo like a bitch in heat, eyes glued to yours and hands bracing against the floor.

You wondered now, stepping into your shared room at the Sky Casino with a bag in your hand, if Sigma would agree to your little request.

You found him sitting at his desk the way you always did. Him, hunched over numerous sheets of paper spread out so he could see all of them at once. You walked over to him, wrapping an arm around Sigma's shoulder and placing a kiss on his temple.

He barely even looked up, murmuring a, "Welcome back," half-heartedly. You didn't mind, ruffling his hair gently and putting down the bag in your hands on the bedside table to go freshen up. When you emerged from the shower, hair dripping water onto the fabric of your T-shirt, neither Sigma nor the bag had moved. You plopped down on the bed, grabbing your phone to pass time.

"Say, baby," You said casually, and Sigma hummed to show that he was listening. "I went down today for an emergency supply run."

'Down' meant back to the surface of earth.

"Mm-hmm," Sigma's eyes were still glued to his paperwork. "See anything interesting?"

You couldn't help but smirk at his words. "Why, I did actually."

"Hmm," Was his only reply, attention stolen completely by his work.

You didn't mind; being in a relationship with someone with the personality of Sigma had that requirement of patience. His work could wrap him around him like deadly vines sometimes. Only when it started suffocating him could you step in, beating back its branches and freeing your boyfriend from them.

And Sigma himself had agreed to your suggestion that after 10 o'clock, he should forget work and just be your boyfriend. So you waited.

The very second the clock in your room struck ten, you threw your phone down and left the bed, going to stand over Sigma instead. You bent down, and picked Sigma up from his chair, making him yelp in surprise and latch onto your neck for balance.

"[Name], what-" He began, but you cut him off.

"It's ten," You jutted your head towards the clock.

Sigma glanced at it, sighed, and then wrapped his arms more firmly around your neck, his expression resigned. "Fine."

You grinned unapologetically, and carried him to the bed, setting him down on the soft mattress and laying down beside him on your side, an elbow propped up against the bed to support your head up with your hand.

"So," You said, looking down at Sigma with a mischievous combination of a smile and smirk plastered on your face. "Did you hear what I said earlier about going down for an emergency run?"

He racked his brains. "Oh, yeah, you said you saw something interesting. What was it?"

Your smile-smirk-combination turned into a full smirk, and you reached over to the bedside table to grab the bag you'd brought with you, depositing it on Sigma's chest carefully.

"Is it a present?" His face lit up, eyes shining as he scrambled to sit up to open the bag.

"Mn," You nodded, eyes glued to that expression of his. "Two, actually. One of them is for you, and the other one might be for me."

Sigma frowned. "But if you brought it for yourself then-"

"Just open it," You raised your head to kiss his lips gently. "Either way you're gonna use it."

He shrugged, "Okay," and reached into the bag. The first thing he pulled out was a small jewellery box made of oak wood, its surface shiny and well-polished. His face lit up again, throwing you an excited glance before opening it, making you smile at him fondly.

It was a silver bracelet, somehow sturdy and delicate at the same time, which was why it had reminded you of Sigma when you'd seen it in the glass case of a jewellery shop you'd been passing.

"It's beautiful," Sigma said, looking up at you with that ecstatic expression on his pretty face.

"You like it?" You asked, and he nodded earnestly. "That's good, then."

You sat up to place a soft kiss on his forehead, and he turned to hug you tightly.

"Thank you," He whispered against your chest as you stroked the back of his head. "I'll cherish it."

You smiled. It felt so good to be able to make him smile, it was surreal.

Sigma got up from the bed to carefully put the bracelet in a drawer, face all split from that wide smile on . He returned for the second gift, the one you had deliberately placed lower in the bag so he would see it later.

Sitting down next to you again, he took up the bag and reached into it for a second time. When he pulled his hand out, sitting on his hand, all innocent looking and perfectly stationary, was a bright purple dildo.

His eyes widened, and a heavy blush rose up to his cheeks. He dropped it back into the bag, turning to you accusingly as his face burned with shame.

You met his gaze with a calm one of yours, smirking. "How d'you like it?"

Ten minutes later, you received the answer to your question.

You had somehow managed to convince a very flustered Sigma into cooperating with your plans. Now, he was on the floor next to you, hole tight and pathetic around the dildo that you'd stuck to the floor.

You sat close to him, letting him clutch your shirt in his hands as he huffed and panted, eyes wet and shoulders shaking.

"I think you're ready to move now, right, baby?" You asked, supporting most of his weight as he leaned against you.

Sigma nodded, and slowly began moving. He raised his hips till only the tip of the dildo was in him, before engulfing the entire thing again. His thighs shook, and moans spilled from his pretty mouth as he began riding it. You let him bury his head into your chest, knowing full well the shame that made him red now would be gone soon.

Sigma began gaining a rhythm slowly, his hips speeding up as your hand reached for your own waistband. Supporting him with one hand, you used the other to pull your cock free from its retraints. You began stroking just as Sigma's moans grew louder, each thrust of the dildo against his gummy walls making him more breathless than before.

"Look at me, baby," You said, hands fast on your cock.

He did, fingers of both his hands clenching you so tight you wondered if he'd be able to tear your skin through the shirt. His eyes were leaking tears down either side of his red face, and his sweat-soaked and messy hair was sticking to his forehead. His eyes were wide, pupils all blown out and blurred up. You leaned down and kissed him, swallowing each of his moans as he bounced on the dildo.

You continued jerking off to the sight of your boyfriend riding that dildo, knowing full well it could have been your cock if you'd asked for that instead.

"Move faster, baby," You told him, and with tears streaming down his face, he did as he was told.

As Sigma bounced wildly, your eyes glued themselves to the point where the dildo plunged in and out of his already swollen hole. He bit his lips, throwing his head back and letting you lower your head to bite at his pale flesh and kiss his nipples. His shame, as you had predicted, had already vaporized into thin air, and he made eye contact with you as he rode the dildo, mouth open and spilling lewd sounds. You licked and bit and kissed and teased to your heart's content as Sigma's body moved beneath your lips.

Soon, his moans turned into cries, and his movements grew sloppily and wilder, arms wrapping around your neck desperately and pulling you closer. Your hand sped up around your cock, knowing from his mannerisms that Sigma was close to his orgasm.

"Let's finish together, hmm?" You said, and Sigma nodded, leaning up to catch your lips in a kiss.

You reached over with your free hand to stroke his length, making him gasp and try to pull away, but you held on firm. You stroked both cocks in rhythm till he was crying, burying his face into your chest and just sobbing, his orgasm strong and unavoidable as it washed over him.

Ropes of cum shot out of your cock as Sigma collapsed onto you, breathless and tired. You reached forwards to pull him up and away from the dildo and onto you, wrapping both your arms around his shaking frame.

You let him calm down and come down from his high, stroking his back and pressing kisses into his temple. Soon, he pulled away to look at you, tears dried on his cheeks.

"Was that good?" He asked.

You nodded, smiling. "So good, baby. Now that you've had practice, d'you wanna try the real thing?"

Sigma's eyes widened, and he flushed impossibly darker.

#dom male reader #top male reader #dom reader #bungou stray dogs #sub bsd #sub bsd x you #bsd x you #sub bungou stray dog x you #sub bungou stray dogs #sub sigma #sub character #sub character x you #sub sigma x you

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munsons-maiden · 2 years

Text

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

Here’s a smutty little oneshot while I’m working on the next chapter of Worlds Apart. I hope you enjoy! - Love, Kiki ♡

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Eddie Munson x female cheerleader!reader (virgin!Eddie x virgin!reader)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | It’s been two weeks since you and Eddie decided to stop sneaking around and start behaving like every other couple at Hawkins High. Only that you’re not. And after overhearing a group of cheerleaders’ especially cruel gossip about your relationship, Eddie’s insecurities, nourished by all those years of bullying, hit home despite all of his attempts not to let people’s vile words get to him. This time though...he feels like they might be right. Because why would a girl like you ever fall for a guy like him? And when Eddie realizes he made a mistake...he can only hope it’s not too late to fix what he broke. Based on this request: Maybe one where reader is a cheerleader and popular but only wants to be with eddie but he is insecure because he's the school freak and overhears mean gossip? Angst w a happy ending?

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 | angst with a happy ending; soft, sweet smut; virgin!Eddie x virgin!reader; insecure Eddie; a Pride-And-Prejudice-style confession in the rain

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 11k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (only read if you’re 18+ years old!), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), p in v

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 & 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡

Eddie hadn’t wanted to eavesdrop. He truly hadn’t.

But he’d heard your name, and then his own, and now he was standing here, around the corner in the empty hallway, forced to listen to the voices of the three cheerleaders and the ugly things they were saying about you and him. He couldn’t muster the mental strength required to walk past them now and face their scrutiny.

He was a rat in a trap.

“…nearly got a heart attack when I saw her jump out of that rusty old van of his last week,” one of them remarked, “Like, I can’t wrap my head around the thought that they’re dating. Barf me out, that’s disgusting.”

“She’s probably just pitying that freak, anyways, and doesn’t know how to get rid of him. Like one of these flea-infested strays you feed one time and they’ll start following you around. He looks like one of these as well.” Eddie didn’t need to see her face to know she was scrunching her nose in disgust. He was used to that kind of reaction. “Oh god, do you think she’ll bring him if I invite her to my Spring Break party?”

“You probably shouldn’t risk it.”

“Probably. I’m a bit sorry for her, though.”

“Why? It’s on her if she’s screwing around with the scum. I always thought she’d end up with Steve Harrington, to be honest. They would’ve been such a cute couple before he graduated.”

“Don’t they always hang around?”

“I mean, yeah. As far as I know. She says they’re just friends but can you imagine rejecting Steve Harrington to end up with Eddie The Freak Munson?”

There was a beat of affirmative silence, before the second girl said, “I don’t get what she sees in that creep.”

“Maybe she fucks him to get a drug discount.”

“Or maybe he’s got some hidden talents,” the third girl jested.

Eddie could nearly feel how she was grimacing with disgust. It was dripping from her voice like poison.

“A freak in the streets and in the sheets?”

“Urgh, stop it!”, the first one giggled, “Don’t make me imagine it. I wanna scrub my eyes with bleach.”

“He probably always fucks her from behind so she won’t have to see his ugly face.”

There was a fit of giggles mingling with the sound of a locker door being slammed shut, before they finally left. Their footsteps were echoing through the silence that settled over the hallway as they walked away in the other direction, clearing Eddie’s path to the exit – but he was frozen in place.

His back against the wall, he let his head fall so his messy curls would hide the stray tear that was rolling down his cheek, as he squeezed his eyes shut to fight the feeling of nausea in his guts while the cheerleaders’ voices rang in his mind, like a broken record, playing their cruel words on repeat.

She’s probably just pitying that freak, anyways, and doesn’t know how to get rid of him.

I always thought she’d end up with Steve Harrington, to be honest.

He probably always fucks her from behind so she won’t have to see his ugly face.

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since the two of you had decided to stop sneaking around and act like every other couple at Hawkins High.

The news of one of the cheerleaders dating Eddie The Freak had spread like a forest fire when the two of you had walked into the cafeteria together, hand in hand.

Eddie had known it would cause trouble – he just hadn’t anticipated how much the whispers and vile comments would hurt him. He was used to them, had been used to them as long as he could remember.

He was used to being eyed warily, glared at, picked upon and bullied because he was different, and he’d started wearing being different like a shield.

What hurt him was how people had started talking about you.

And the fact that Eddie knew, deep down…that they were right. That you deserved someone better than him.

Someone you could bring to parties and kiss in the hallways without being laughed at or shamed for it. Someone who played basketball instead of D&D, who wouldn’t graduate at his third attempt. Someone who looked like Steve Harrington, not like himself.

Someone who wasn’t a freak.

***

You’d known something was wrong when Eddie hadn’t shown up at your place for movie night as he usually did every Friday evening.

And when you’d sought him in the hallway the following Monday before classes, he hadn’t even looked at you before darting off in the other direction.

But if you were being totally honest with yourself…something had been wrong ever since you’d stopped hiding your relationship from the shark tank that was Hawkins High.

Things with Eddie had started out perfectly, all these months ago. The perfect love story, like the ones found on TV and between the pages of sappy romance novels.

Your craving for a chocolate milkshake and Eddie’s hunger for fries had led to a chance encounter at Benny’s Diner in the middle of a Saturday night a few months ago, and the night had ended with the two of you sharing milkshakes and fries until the good-natured but tired Benny had kicked you out by closing time at three in the morning.

When you’d parted ways in the parking lot with smiles as bright as the full moon in the skies above, the unspoken agreement had been struck to repeat whatever had happened that night. And one week later, when you’d shown up at the diner again, this time in the hopes not for a milkshake but the metalhead you’d always simply known as Eddie The Freak…Eddie had been there already, waiting for you with one of his dazzling grins and the confession that he’d hoped you’d show up again.

Benny’s diner became a sanctuary, and the milk-shake-and-fries-dates with Eddie an unspoken agreement. Away from the halls of Hawkins High where people would have stared, gossiped, about a cheerleader and the Freak talking, laughing together – when talking to Eddie and laughing with him felt like the most natural thing in the world. Like breathing. With Eddie, you realized that the corset you’d strapped yourself in could be loosened. Allowing you, for the first time in years, to actually breathe. To be yourself, just like he was, without saying something wrong, being judged. With Eddie, sharing fries and milkshakes at Benny’s little dinner under the cover of Saturday night when there was no danger of bumping into anyone at school because they were all busy partying, you felt more like yourself than you had in a very long time.

And the Saturday night diner dates had morphed into lunchbreaks spent in the shadow of the bleachers or on the little clearing in the woods behind the sports field, hidden from prying eyes; into movie nights and hikes through the woods until one clear, cold night three months ago, Eddie had finally kissed you underneath the starry night sky outside of The Hideout after one of his gigs, his skin soaked with sweat and his voice hoarse from singing and playing the guitar all night. It had been the picture-perfect first kiss.

And one single kiss had turned into many.

Stolen kisses in empty classrooms, fleeting touches and lingering glances in the hallways whenever the two of you passed by each other, heated make-out sessions on the couch of the trailer he shared with his uncle.

And the crush you’d been harboring for Eddie had turned into so, so much more.

Into love.

Not that giddy kind of infatuation of High School sweethearts, but actual love. The kind of love that had you plan your future together, far away from shallow-minded little Hawkins and its gossips.

But where movies and romance novels ended…real life went on.

It wasn’t enough anymore to share stolen kisses when nobody was looking, to see each other every day in class, the cafeteria, the hallways, so close yet parted by that invisible line neither of you had known how to cross – because as soon as the two of you set foot into Hawkins High, you were still a cheerleader. And Eddie was still The Freak.

Until, two weeks ago, the two of you had decided to end the secrecy and behave like every other couple at Hawkins High did.

You’d been prepared for the havoc the two of you would cause, the stares and whispers and bullying, but…you’d been tired of hiding. And you’d thought Eddie had been, too. That he was secretly scared you were ashamed of being with him, when all you wanted to do was shout it from the rooftops that you were in love with Eddie Munson.

That the reason Eddie had never made a move towards Third Base – and had gallantly thwarted all of your attempts to change that fact – had been rooted not only in his genuinely sweet, gentlemanly manners, but a deeper-rooted hurt about you still keeping your relationship hidden.

But now, two weeks later, it was obvious that something was wrong.

Eddie was avoiding you. And with every step you tried to take to close this strange new distance between the two of you, it felt like he took three steps backwards. Away from you.

By the time Friday had arrived, the vague sense of doom which had started to grow in your chest over the past two weeks had grown into fully-fledged panic.

And you finally had enough of Eddie’s dancing around you.

It was a game day, the whole of Hawkins High a sea of orange and green as everyone sported the school’s colors in anticipation of the basketball game which would take place that evening. Everyone, except for the members of the Hellfire Club, you noticed with a small smile as you entered the cafeteria for lunch break. They’d donned their matching Hellfire shirts for their own game that night, the ones Eddie had designed a few months ago, on a paper napkin at Benny’s Diner.

With his messy dark curls long enough to brush his shoulders, the ripped jeans, the leather jacket and denim vest and rings, the tattoos decorating his skin, Eddie Munson always stuck out in a crowd – but today, in the sea of green and orange – from shirts to scrunchies, from banners to ribbons – he stuck out like a black swan in a pond full of white ones as he was lounging in his usual place at the head of the Hellfire Club’s table. The smile on your lips widened at the sight of him, gesticulating as he replied to something Mike had said. But the giddy feeling in your chest died and withered as realization crept back in that he’d been avoiding you the whole week. The whole past two weeks.

A group of sophomore girls walked past you, a few of them glancing at your cheerleader uniform with various expressions of timidness and awe, and you gave them a little smile as they passed.

Ever since you’d started dating Eddie, most people had stopped throwing you awning gazes and shy smiles in the hallways. Instead, there were now whispers trailing in your wake; some more hurtful than others, but that’s what you’d expected.

Four more months, and you were out of here. You both would be. Rid of ugly whispers and disgusted glances, of people treating you as if the stain dating Eddie The Freak Munson had left on your reputation was an infectious disease.

It hurt. Not because you cared what people thought about you – but because nobody outside of Hellfire seemed to see Eddie the way you did. They couldn’t look past the tattoos, the ripped denim and leather, the unkempt exterior, to see the heart of gold, all the sweetness and kindness underneath that shone from every single one of his radiant smiles.

The smile, though, was wiped from Eddie’s face as you walked towards the Hellfire Club table, the usual exhilarated mood at the table snuffed out like sunlight covered by rainclouds – the same rain clouds dimming the light in Eddie’s eyes when his gaze met yours.

It felt like a knife being plunged into your chest.

You’d hoped for him to give you one of his dazzling smiles when his eyes landed on you, to jump up and kiss you and whirl you around like he always did, but he stayed frozen in place, still as one of his D&D figurines as he watched you approach with a mix of surprise and…something else. Something you couldn’t quite decipher. It scared you.

The silence which had settled over the Hellfire Club’s table seemed to grow more tense when you came to stand beside Eddie, your weary smile into the group, at Gareth and Jeff and Dustin and Mike, answered by uneasy sideways glances flitting between you and Eddie, whose expression had turned into an unreadable mask so unlike him it hurt.

“Eddie, can we talk?”, you said quietly, fiddling with the hem of your cheerleader skirt just to give your hands something to do.

Eddie didn’t even look at you as you uttered the words. His eyes scanned the assembled crowd in the cafeteria, the sideways glances thrown your way, before he said, “Yeah. Sure. Outside?”

Up until now, there had been this tiny sliver of hope that it had all been a misunderstanding. That all your deep, dark fears of losing Eddie, nourished by these past days of sudden radio silence until the tender saplings of anxiety had grown into weeds threatening to suffocate you from within, were irrational, that Eddie’s sudden distance could be rooted in a harmless, reasonable explanation. A misunderstanding.

That if you called him out on it, it would turn out you’d just been paranoid. But judging by his reaction now, it was obvious that wasn’t the case.

Your heart seemed to cease its beating, to freeze over and plummet to the floor all at the same time as, like caught in a trance, you followed Eddie out of the cafeteria and into the silence of the abandoned hallway outside. He didn’t take your hand like he usually did. Didn’t press a delicate kiss to your cheek or your knuckles, didn’t play with the green satin ribbon in your hair matching the cheerleader uniform. Didn’t pull you into a spontaneous little dance, twirling you until your head was spinning and tears of laughter ran down your face.

The air between the two of you was frozen like Lover’s Lake in December when he came to a halt, the silence of the abandoned corridor around you suffocating as Eddie finally turned to face you. It was strange, so utterly unfamiliar to see that there was not a single spark of the usual humor, the usual gentle warmth in his dark eyes as he looked at you now.

“Shouldn’t you be at cheerleader training rehearsing for the game?”, he asked, his voice as hollow as his gaze.

“There are more important things than cheerleader training,” you began, voice softening as you took a tentative step closer to him and added, “Eddie, talk to me. Please. You’ve been avoiding me for two weeks now. And…and I need to know what’s wrong.”

The way Eddie shrunk back from you when you reached out to grasp his hand hit you like a punch to the gut.

“Did I do something wrong?”, you said quietly, letting your hand fall to your side.

Something in your voice, in your eyes, though, snapped Eddie out of this strange detached state, and with a shaky sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut as if he was in pain.

And it dawned on you that you’d already lost him.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” he breathed, his own voice choked with emotions, “But this doesn’t work.”

“What –“

“This,” he exclaimed, waving at the space between the two of you, “It doesn’t work. You’re a cheerleader, and I’m a freak. And I’m tired of playing pretend.”

“Don’t,” you said quietly, voice strained to its breaking point with the lump that was forming in your throat, the tears stinging in your eyes and threatening to spill because you knew, could feel where this conversation was heading. It felt like being strapped to a train hurtling towards a glaring abyss. “Don’t call yourself that, Eddie.”

“But it’s true. I’m a freak. And avoiding to say it doesn’t change it. I’m tired of pretending I could be more than the guy tagging along with you through a little phase of rebellion before you tire of him and settle down with one of the Steve Harringtons of this world.” He drew out Steve’s name into a lilt, his voice dripping with disdain.

You reeled back. “Tell me that’s not what you think.”

“It’s what I know.”

Anger started rising in your chest now, mingling with the panic and pain already churning there like a maelstrom threatening to drag you under.

“What you know,” you echoed, voice trembling. “When did I ever give you a reason to believe that, Eddie? When?”

“You’re a cheerleader.” The way he said it, as if that was all there was to you…it made you sick.

“So, a pair of pompoms and a short skirt determine my personality? You, of all people, should know not to judge a book by its cover. And especially not a book you’ve already read.” It came out as a whisper as you tried to swallow back the tears.

“That’s…that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying, Eddie?”

Don’t. Please don’t do this.

Your tongue couldn’t form the desperate plea your heart was screaming at him.

With his voice so uncharacteristically quiet and detached, Eddie said, “I’m saying good-bye.”

There was a shellshocked daze clouding your senses as your body went numb, the sensation spreading from your chest to your fingertips as you waited to wake up with sweat-soaked sheets tangled around your legs and the relief of knowing this, right now, had just been a horrible dream and that Eddie would be waiting at your front door to pick you up for school with that beautiful smile on his lips.

The shrill sound of the bell piercing the silence of the hallways to announce the end of lunch break was dulled in your ears, a scratch at the edge of your perception.

It was curious, how the shattering of a heart didn’t make a single sound when it could be felt so clearly, caused a pain that ran deeper than any blade could pierce.

There was no time for you to react, to beg him to tell you what had happened in the span of a few days to end things like this.

The hallways flooded with people leaving the cafeteria for their afternoon classes, and Eddie was gone.

Walking away down the hallway, the familiar sight of the DIO patch on his denim vest and dark curls fading into the sea of orange and green as he walked away from you.

Just like that.

***

You didn’t remember how you’d gotten to the bathroom, or how long you’d been cowering in the stall, on the dirty, grimy tiles, hugging your knees as sobs ripped through you, the numbness in your body fading as pain took over.

Real, physical pain in your chest, as if your heart had actually shattered into a million tiny shards that were now scraping at your insides, tearing you open while the damn tears wouldn’t stop falling.

Eddie was your first love, your first everything.

And part of you had always – foolishly – clung to the belief that things would always stay that way. That Eddie Munson wouldn’t be your first heartbreak, too. That the plans you’d made for the future would become reality.

You couldn’t figure out what had happened.

Did it even matter, if something had happened? Was that better than Eddie simply falling out of love?

***

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

Eddie’s head snapped up at the sudden sound, and a sigh escaped him as he saw Dustin, hands on his hips as he was standing in the doorway to the room Hellfire shared with the theatre club. The boy’s expression in the shadow of his cap was a mix of shock and anger.

“You’re not even going to argue?”, Dustin challenged.

“Would you go away if I did?”, Eddie replied. His voice was meek and coarse from crying. He was tired. So fucking tired and miserable.

“I won’t go anyway. I heard what you said to her.”

“You spied on me?”

“A High School hallway isn’t exactly a place for private conversation,” Dustin quipped, locking his hands in front of his chest now. The kid definitely needed to get his ego in check.

“Dustin –“ Eddie began, but the boy was already stalking towards him with a grim determination on his face as he said, “No. Let me speak. I’m pretty sure you already know what I’m about to say. Hear me out. You’re a fucking fool. You know why? The sweetest, prettiest girl of Hawkins High gave you her heart, and you threw it away because you’re so deep in your little bubble of moping and whining…about what? That she obviously loves you?”

“She never said that.”

Dustin threw his hands in the air, clearly exasperated now. “Did you? Did you ever say it to her?”

There was a pause as Eddie stared at Dustin, before the boy went on, “That’s what I thought. Why do you think she loves you, huh? For your popularity? Your good grades? Your flowery smell?”

“I get it Henderson, thank you. No need to rub it in.”

“No, you don’t get it and that’s the problem. Are you a Jason Carver? A Patrick McKinney? A Steve Harrington? No!”

“I’m already literally on the floor already,” Eddie said quietly, lacking the strength to even feel indignant, “Why do you keep kicking me, kid?”

“You’re an Eddie. And that’s your selling point! The girl took a single look at you, in all your weird glory, all revved up and jumping tables and selling drugs –“

“Wait, how do you –“

“You carry that stuff around in your lunchbox. Do you think she didn’t know there would be gossip and bullying? She did, of course she did! Yet she took one look at you, at Eddie The Freak, and decided you were worth all that trouble.”

“You don’t even know what happened,” Eddie muttered, raking a trembling hand through his curls. “You don’t know what people are saying –“

“You’re the one who taught me to not be bullied into giving up what I love and now you’re sitting here, hiding and moping around after doing exactly that. You threw her away like the notes for a failed D&D campaign. Or did you really think you were letting her go because you’re such a hero? You’re not a hero, you’re a coward. You’re running away. And while it’s okay to run away from danger or graduation or whatever, it’s really fucking stupid to run away from someone who loves you.” Dustin paused, letting his words sink in, before he added, “If I were you, I’d be on my knees and begging for her to forgive your utter and devastating stupidity and take you back. So…” Dustin cleared his throat, straightening his spine as he stared down at Eddie, who was still miserably cowering amid the scenery for the theatre club’s next piece, “Eddie The Freak. Get up from the floor, wipe your eyes, blow your nose, and get your girl back.”

With these words still hanging in the air, Dustin turned to leave, but Eddie’s voice rang out to hold him back.

“Henderson. Wait.”

Dustin turned, watching as Eddie slowly climbed back to his feet. Taking a steadying breath, he righted his leather jacket and he raised his chin, before he announced, “You need to tell the others that Hellfire’s cancelled tonight.”

“Wa –“

“There’s a goddamn important balls-and-laundry-baskets game I need to attend.”

Eddie could only hope it wasn’t too late already.

***

You’d never been so miserable in your life like you felt right now, dancing and jumping and smiling that wide fake smile as your muscles went through the movements of the choreography like a sleepwalker.

The cheers and voices in the gym blurred like the faces around you as every second made it harder to fight back the tears threatening to spill all over again.

You didn’t need to be a genius to know you were walking the flimsy tightrope over the abyss of a mental breakdown.

You only needed to get through the next two hours.

And then you could break down and cry your soul out.

Two hours.

“Watch your step!”, the hiss of one of the other cheerleaders tore you from your thoughts as you spun just in time to avoid bumping into her, your mind catching up with the steps of the choreography just in time to correct the little misstep and twirl – and time froze for a few heartbeats as your eyes locked on a pair of umber ones, staring back at you from the entrance to the gym.

He was standing in the shadow of the bleachers, hair tousled and hands shoved into the pockets of his ripped jeans as he watched you, the ghost of a sad little smile tugging at his lips that made him look like a lost puppy.

And despite all the hurt and heartbreak, despite the cruel things he’d said, your stupid little heart leapt in your chest like a bird in the confinements of its cage, ready to burst free and flutter right into his hands.

In the months since the two of you had started dating, Eddie Munson had never, not once, attended one of the “balls-and-laundry-baskets games” since they always took place on Fridays, at the same time as Hellfire Club, and it was sacrilegious to ever postpone Hellfire – but now here he was. And he was watching you the way only Eddie had ever looked at you. Not simply looking at you, but seeing you.

His gaze left that familiar prickling sensation in its wake on your skin you couldn’t get enough of as your surroundings blurred like watercolors because the only thing that mattered right then, the only thing that ever mattered, was that Eddie was here.

It took a few heartbeats for your senses to snap back to reality, for you to realize that the music had stopped and cheers rose all throughout the room as you struck the final pose, applause following as the cheerleaders of Hawkins High left the field to make room for the game which would start any minute now.

But as you walked with the others towards the spot at the edge of the field reserved for the cheerleaders, you couldn’t wait a single second longer.

You needed to know why Eddie was here.

A few of the other cheerleaders threw you dirty glances as you broke formation, pompoms still clutched in your hands, and raced along the bleachers towards the exit, heart racing and mind going a mile a minute.

But the blind spot between the exit and the bleachers was empty when you reached it. Eddie was gone.

The applause rising in the gym at your back rang in your ears in time with your racing heart as you darted out of the building and onto the parking lot.

Night had fallen already, and the soft drizzle from earlier had turned into a full-blown spring storm pelting down on you, biting the bare skin on your arms and legs as you squinted into the rain-soaked darkness, scanning the parking lot for the familiar sight of Eddie’s rusty old van.

It was still there, parked at the edge near the fence separating the premises of Hawkins High from that of the Middle School. Which meant Eddie was still around somewhere.

Not caring about the freezing rain, you raced towards the old van, weaving between the rows and rows of parked cars filling the for now abandoned space as the shrill noise of a whistle seeped out of the gym to fill the night, the noise of cheers, but you couldn’t care less about the game.

Just as you reached Eddie’s van, moving to squint through the driver’s side window to see if he was inside, someone called out your name. The voice was so beautifully familiar, the cadence like a melody you knew by heart, its soft lilt your favorite tune in the world as your heart soared and plummeted to the ground like a stone at the bottom of a well all at the same time.

You whirled around, coming face to face with Eddie.

He was absolutely soaked.

His mess of dark curls was plastered to his pale face in wet tangles, and rain was dripping into his face, running down his cheeks like tears as he held your gaze and stammered, “What are you doing? Shouldn’t you –“

“What are you doing?”, you cut him off. The words came out harsher than you’d intended for them to sound, but…you couldn’t help it.

He looked like a lost puppy as he watched you with those damn doe eyes, wide with a silent plea. “I didn’t want to interrupt, I just…I wanted to see you,” he replied quietly, “And that was stupid because you obviously don’t wanna see me right now, I get that, I really do. So, uh…I decided to just wait here until after the game and…talk to you.”

He’d started fiddling with the rings on his fingers. Like he always did when he was nervous.

“I thought you already said everything you needed to,” you said.

It was getting more difficult to hold back the tears with every second.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathed, rubbing a hand over his face, fingers carding through the rain-soaked curls plastered to his forehead – and it was the familiarity of this nervous little gesture that finally broke the dam.

The tears started falling down your face to mingle with the cold rainwater, and your vision blurred as Eddie cooed, sounding as desperate as you felt, “No, no, no, no, please don’t cry, sweeth- please don’t cry, okay?”

“What else am I supposed to do?!”, you shot back, your voice already breaking like your heart had.

You wiped your eyes with the back of your hands, the stupid pompoms you were still clutching tickling your face, before Eddie gently pried your hands away from your face, taking the pompoms from you so you could swipe at the tears and the rain on your cheeks.

The gesture was so tender, so Eddie, that the tears only started to fall harder.

“I was stupid”, Eddie breathed, eyes on yours, pleading, “Really goddamn fucking stupid. Because I got scared.”

“Of what?”, you whispered.

“Of this.” Eddie waved the pompoms between the two of you. Under different circumstances, it would have been hilarious, seeing Eddie the metalhead absolutely soaked like a cat that got lost in the rain gesture heatedly with a pair of wet pompoms.

“Of…of not being enough,” he finished, taking a trembling breath that told you he was barely holding back his own tears. His bottom lip was trembling when he added, “I…I’ll wait here. Go back to your game and I’ll wait here and if you decide to hear me out – and I know I don’t deserve a single goddamn second more of your time but I’m begging you to grant it anyways – then I’ll be right here, ‘kay?”

The pouring rain was the only noise filling the deafening silence which settled over the two of you as Eddie waited for your reply.

And while your heart screamed at you to break the silence, to take his hand and tell him to never let you go again…your head told you not to.

He’d hurt you. He’d been the reason why you’d cried your heart out at the floor of the High School bathroom for the past few hours.

“I gave you my heart,” you whispered, “And you took it and smashed it on the floor of that fucking hallway. And then you left me there. Without any explanation. Just like that.”

It was hard to speak through the force of your tears choking you, the pouring rain all around drowning out your frail voice.

“Nothing has changed in the past hours, Eddie. I’m still a cheerleader. I’ve always been a cheerleader, and you’ve always been a freak. It was you who started to reduce us to that. It was you who made clear that I’ll be the one to break your heart while you were just doing the exact same thing with mine. That’s not fair. And I didn’t deserve that.”

And with tears falling down your face in hot rivulets that mingled with the cold rain, you turned to go back inside. You didn’t even have the strength to grab your pompoms back from him. It didn’t matter, you couldn’t go back to the game anyways, to cheering with a smile when you were soaked and freezing and numb and sobbing, with your breaking heart that was still screaming at you to stop and run back into his arms.

“I love you.”

Eddie’s words, spoken with such quiet fervor, froze you in your tracks.

“That night you walked into the diner for milkshakes and we first talked? It wasn’t just a lucky coincidence,” Eddie said, his voice nearly breaking underneath the force of his own emotions. “I…At the start of the school year, last summer, I got the bats tattoo.” You could hear the soft rustle of fabric as he raised his arm, clad in the sleeve of his leather jacket, but you didn’t have the strength to turn around yet, to look into those big brown eyes that would bring you to your knees.

“I doodled these bats on my chemistry homework a few days before that and I decided they looked metal so I got them tattooed and the next day in class – you were sitting beside me that day – you told me the bat tattoo was bitchin’,” Eddie went on. You didn’t need to see his face to know his own tears had started falling. “You told me that you’d seen me doodle them the other day and it was cool I got them tattooed and I was, like, a hundred percent sure you were poking fun of me. I waited for you to say something mean because that’s what people always do and you were a goddamn cheerleader and I was actually kinda scared out of my mind of you. But you didn’t mock me or laugh at me or call me a freak. You smiled. Really, genuinely smiled. And I never recovered from that.” He laughed; a low, disbelieving laugh as you felt your own tear-soaked smile tug at your lips as you remembered that day.

“I thought it was the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen,” Eddie continued, “Like sunshine. I started watching you after that day. At lunchbreak, class, in the hallways…it was so annoying. Because there was no way you’d ever talk to me again. Like, no way. Zero chance. But that grip you had on me ever since that day was insane. Like, you probably could have asked me to join the cheer squad and I wouldn’t have hesitated a single. Goddamn. Second. To put a ribbon in my hair and start cheering for Jason fucking Carver if you’d asked me to.”

His low, incredulous little laugh floated through the air.

Your favorite sound in the world.

And a broken little laugh ripped free from your own in response, mingling with more tears as your heart fluttered in your chest, with love and…hope.

“And when I saw your car in that diner’s parking lot six months ago,” Eddie went on, having a hard time speaking through his own tears, “I knew if I left that goddamn High School without shooting my shot and finally talking to you, I’d be the most stupid fucking dumbass in history. Going in there, walking up to you and saying hi was the one brave thing I ever did.”

Eddie paused, swallowing back his tears before he added, “And leaving you there in that cursed hallway today was the most stupid thing I ever did. So…I guess what I’m trying to say, what I’ve been trying to say for a while now but have been too chicken to actually say is…I love you, Y/N. I love you with all my cynical heart. And I’m sorry.”

In the rain-soaked silence that followed, you finally turned around to face him.

Eddie’s eyes, these beautiful dark eyes, were set on you, blinking against the rainwater running from his soaked hair and down his face, the tears in his eyes. He’d never looked so lost and desperate as he did right now, in the pouring rain, waiting for your reply.

“I was scared as well,” you said softly.

He tilted his head. “Of – of me?”

“You got a reputation as cult leader, satanist, freak and drug dealer. But you were always doodling stuff in your books and on your notes and I spent whole classes just watching you doodle. It always looked so cool. And I remember the day you doodled the Hellfire logo and showed up with the shirt a week later and I was so intrigued by that, the passion you put into the things you were doing. Drawing, D&D. Guitar. I saw you design your band’s logo as well. I felt like a weirdo, staring at you like that during classes,” you added with a soft chuckle, “But honestly, I couldn’t look away. You were sitting right in front of the window in Mrs. O’Donnell’s class, and the lighting always painted your hair in different shades. On rainy days it was ink-black, like the sharpie you used to draw. When it was sunny, it was all shades of chocolate. And you always smile when you’re drawing, that sweet small concentrated smile while you’re poking out your tongue. That was when I knew that the guy beside me in English Lit wasn’t the same menacing freak people made him out to be. And I was drawn in. And when I saw you got those bats tattooed, I shot my shot. You grinned, the most dazzling grin …and you never talked to me again until that night we met at Benny’s diner.”

For a heartbeat, there was only the pitter-patter of rain as you stared at each other, all the unspoken things hanging in the air between you until you finally broke underneath their weight.

“But what if you get scared again?”, you choked out. You weren’t sure Eddie would even hear your frail voice against the downpour of the rain pelting down on the asphalt, the parked cars, but he had.

The sad-looking, rain-soaked pompoms still clutched in his hands like a lifeline, Eddie sank down onto his knees, right in the middle of the parking lot in the pouring spring rain, utterly soaked and lost, and his eyes never left yours as he said, “Please, let me explain. Not rationalize, just…just explain. Five minutes. And then you can…you can leave, slap me, strangle me, whatever is it you wanna do.”

The sight of Eddie, kneeling on the wet asphalt of the parking lot, blinking against the rain that was dripping from the wet mess of his curls plastered to his face as he stared up at you, the plea in his huge dark eyes, the holding the soaked pompoms front of his chest…it was just so Eddie that the wave of affection overwhelmed you, stealing the words right off your tongue.

You gave him a curt nod, locking your arms in front of your chest as you waited for him to explain himself.

“In these two weeks since we stopped sneaking around, people have been horrible,” Eddie began. “It’s painted a target on your back. You never said anything about it but you didn’t need to because I know how most of the other cheerleaders have started treating you. That your friends stopped inviting you to parties…and the reason why you’re on this crashing downfall is me. And the thing is…maybe they’re right. Maybe I don’t deserve to be with you. Maybe I’ll never be good enough. Just…what do I have to give you? It’s my third attempt at goddamn graduation. Shit, I’m selling drugs. I’m a weirdo. And you…you’re beautiful, and kind, and you’re insanely clever. And…what kind of future do I have to give you, other than some tiny, crappy apartment and milkshakes at an even crappier diner for date night? You deserve someone who can give you all the fancy stuff in the world that you deserve. Someone you can kiss in public without people being disgusted. Someone who’s not me. Someone who’s not a freak.” There was so much venom in his voice as he spat that word, so much bitterness and disdain.

And just like that, everything made sense.

Eddie hadn’t left because he didn’t want to endure the bullying and gossip and whispers any longer.

He’d left because he actually believed them.

He believed that he wasn’t enough.

He believed the bullies, with their cruel jabs and their nicknames and their vile gossip, were right.

Because…if you’re being told the same thing over and over again, all your life…of course you start to believe it.

“God, Eddie,”, you breathed. “I’m…first of all, these people talking shit about us are not my friends. They’ve never been. You are. You’re my best friend in the world. And instead of just talking to me about the things bothering you, you just started to shut me out. No explanation, nothing. Because if you’d bothered to tell me about what’s going on with you, I could have told you that…that you’re all I want. That crappy little apartment with you is all I want. Milkshakes at some shitty diner are all I want. Because it’s with you. I don’t care about fancy stuff or gossips as long as the person beside me is you. Nothing else matters, and nothing else will ever matter. I love you, Eddie. And I’m sorry it’s so hard for you to see why.”

You’d crossed the distance between the two of you, standing right beside his van now.

There was a heartbeat of silence as the two of you stared at each other. Beneath the soaked strands of his hair, the dark chocolate brown of his curls turned into midnight black by the rain, Eddie’s dark eyes were brimming with tears as they rested on you.

“You…you love me?”, he breathed, his voice trembling, barely audible over the noise of the downpour.

He sounded incredulous. Bewildered.

It tore your heart to ribbons, to realize Eddie truly didn’t see how anyone could be in love with him when he deserved all the love in the world.

He must have seen the answer in your eyes already – because he didn’t wait for your reply.

Eddies hands came up to cradle your face before his lips crashed on yours in a kiss so desperate and fierce that it made the parking lot, the rain, the whole world around you blur as each and every one of your senses came alive to narrow in on Eddie.

On the feeling of his lips against yours, his thumbs brushing away the droplets of rain and tears streaming down your face as he gently angled your head to deepen the kiss, pressing closer while your fingers buried in the mess of his soaked curls at the nape of his neck to draw the softest of moans from his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie breathed into the kiss, his lips chasing yours, “I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart. I’m not gonna run again. I promise.”

You knew he meant it. With all his heart.

Your hands buried in his soaked curls, you pulled him closer, and Eddie obliged happily, pressing himself against you while your back thudded against the hood of his van.

One of his hands roamed down your waist, to your thigh, as he helped you sit on the metal of the hood, not caring for the rain soaking your skirt as you wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him closer, and the sweetest noise tumbled from Eddie’s lips as you bucked your hips against his, your crotch meeting the growing bulge in his pants to make him groan into the kiss as his tongue grazed your bottom lip.

You didn’t care about the pouring rain or the hard metal of the van’s hood beneath you. Nothing else mattered but Eddie’s lips on yours, his arms around you.

The cold of the spring night was melted away by the heat of Eddie’s body pressed against yours, the blissful burning sensation his kisses sent through you.

His arm snaked around you, hand settling on the back of your head to support your weight as the other slipped underneath the soaked shirt of your cheerleader uniform, fingertips drawing small circles on your wet skin as his tongue danced over yours, his intoxicating taste of chocolate and the faintest trace of cigarettes mingling with the rain and the salt of your tears invading your senses and sending your mind spinning like sparkling, frizzing champagne injected straight in your veins – only better. So, so much better.

Intoxicating and dizzying in all the ways only Eddie ever could make you feel.

With each kiss, so ravenous and greedy and gentle and sweet all at the same time, Eddie was placing all the pieces of your heart back together, mending what he’d broken.

Rain and darkness became your guardians, shielding you from the cruel, prying eyes of the rest of the world as you sunk into Eddie’s arms, rolling your hips against his with more vigor this time, and his answering groan, vibrating through your own body to stoke the embers glowing in your core into flames, drifted into the rain-filled dark of the parking lot.

The sodden skirt of your uniform had ridden up with the movement, and Eddie’s hand left your waist to roam down, exploring the side of your thigh, fingertips warm against your cold skin as he started to toy with the waistband of your panties, thumb hooking around the fabric as you pressed closer in a silent plea for him to follow through and remove the damn thing –

“Wait,” Eddie breathed, pulling away to assess you, and concern took over his expression.

“We need to get you somewhere warm before you catch your death out here,” he said softly – and only then did you realize you were, indeed, shivering. Tremors were racing through your body as the freezing spring-rain soaked through the fabric of your cheerleader uniform, running down the bare skin of your arms, your legs, plastering the fabric to your body and settling on your skin with biting intensity.

“Oh,” you replied, mind still caught up in the blissful haze of his kisses.

But when Eddie moved to gently pull you down from the hood of his van, back towards the gym with him, you called out softly, “No. I don’t want to go back in there right now.”

Eddie tilted his head, confusion still written across his features before his eyes lit up with an idea. “Then the van it is. Come on, sweetheart. Gotta warm you up.”

“You did a pretty good job with that already,” you teased as Eddie ripped open the doors at the back of the van, helping you climb inside with a gallant little bow before following you, pulling the doors shut to lock the two of you in the peaceful solitude of the car.

The band equipment which was usually occupying the cargo space was gone, leaving room for the two of you.

Eddie knelt in front of you as you sat, already grabbing one of the scratchy old wool blankets stacked in the back he usually used as padding to keep the band’s equipment safe from his maniacal driving style.

“C’mere,” he said softly, unfolding the blanket as he scooted closer, and your heart fluttered happily in your chest at the tenderness with which he wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, using the edges to gentle swipe at the mix of rain and drying tears on your cheeks, drawing a soft smile from you before you grabbed a second blanket.

“Your turn,” you instructed, gesturing for Eddie to shrug off the sodden combination of denim vest and leather jacket. The shirt beneath was plastered to his chest, and you inched closer to put the blanket around his shoulders, carding your fingertips through the wet strands of his bangs falling into his forehead – and Eddie reached out to gently catch your wrist.

“Are we…”, he began but drifted off timidly, and sadness flooded his umber eyes, as if he were scared to voice the question dangling in the air between the two of you.

He swallowed, gathering his courage underneath your own soft gaze before he said quietly, “Do you still want me?”

Affection washed over you at the anxiety in his gaze, the soft tremble of his bottom lip, and you gently freed your wrist from his grasp to lace your fingers with his.

“You’ve always been the only one I wanted, Eddie Munson.”

The smile on his lips was radiant, dazzling, warming you from within as he slowly pulled you towards him, onto his lap, his hands leaving yours to settle on your hips beneath the blanket wrapped around your shoulders like a cape, the warmth of his palms seeping through the sodden fabric of your shirt.

And with an intensity in his dark eyes that burned right through you in all the best ways, Eddie murmured, “I’m a goddamn dumbass.”

“You are,” you agreed with a soft giggle, “But you’re my goddamn dumbass.”

“Where were we?”, he grinned, nuzzling your nose, that radiant smile still on his lips.

But you bit your lip, scanning his face, before you timidly asked, “Is that why we didn’t…make it to Third Base yet?”

The little wince in reply didn’t escape your notice, but before your heart could sink again, he said, “At first, I wanted to take things slow and do it right and be a gentleman.”

“And then?”

“Then I got scared. Because…I’ve never, you know. I was scared senseless I’d do something wrong. I’m…I’m not confident. I’m just really good at playing pretend. I mean, I’m confident when I play D&D or my guitar but I feel like these are the only two things I’m actually good at so…”

He drifted off again, averting his gaze.

Your hands came up to cup his cheeks, and you gently tilted his head to make him meet your gaze before you murmured, “What happened in those two weeks, Eddie?”

He meekly shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to fight his tears, and your heart bled for him – and raged, about all the bullying and the cruelties he must have had to endure for them to lodge as deep as they obviously had.

“You can tell me,” you pleaded softly. “You know you can tell me, right?”

You could tell he was fighting the tears, the shame – and had you been able to set fire to the whole damn town for treating him like this, making sweet, caring, kind Eddie believe the ugly, vile things they were whispering about him, you would have burned this whole Hellhole to the ground.

“You also know you don’t have to tell me,” you added, brushing away a few soaked curls from his cheeks. “You can tell me when you’re ready. Okay?”

He gave you a curt nod, swallowing against the lump in his throat.

And into the silence which followed, filled by the soft pitter-patter of the rain on the van’s roof, you placed the softest, delicate kiss on his cheek before you breathed, “I love you, Eddie Munson. For the way you light up every room with your smiles and your laugh. For seeing people, instead of just looking at them. For choosing kindness when it would be easier to just be rude. For caring about all the lost little sheepies.” Your words coaxed a timid little smile from his as he watched you, your fingertips playing with the sodden dark curls framing his face, “For caring. For being unapologetic and yourself even if you don’t think you’re brave, because sadly, being yourself in a world like ours and a town like Hawkins is the bravest thing one could do. And for giving others the courage to do the same. For giving me the courage to do the same.”

“Chances are,” he quipped, that tender smile playing on his lips, “That no matter how weird you are, I’ll still be the weirdest one in the room.”

You chuckled softly, before your expression grew stern once more. “I mean it. I love you, for more reasons than there are raindrops falling outside. And I’m sorry people don’t care enough to look at you, because if they did, they’d love you just as much as I do, Eddie Munson.”

“I don’t care if people love me,” he breathed, leaning closer, his lips hovering over yours, “I only care that you do. Nothing else matters.”

And his lips captured yours.

The kiss was sweet, slower than the ones you’d shared in the rain, yet it had lost none of its fierceness.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as you buried your fingertips in his curls once more, relishing the low moan the motion coaxed from Eddie’s lips, the sensation of his soft, soaked strands gliding through your fingers, rainwater running down your palms as you sunk into the kiss.

And with each movement of his lips against yours, you could feel his doubts melting away alongside your own.

Something had changed, in the way he touched you, you realized.

Something you hadn’t consciously realized had been there before.

Where the caress of Eddie’s hands had been restrained by hesitation before, it had grown bold. Where his kisses had been careful, as if he’d always feared to do something wrong, to overstep and scare you away, there was no more holding back now.

It was like a dam had broken, and you happily let the tide sweep you away, immerse you in the way his hands roamed over your sides, slipped beneath your cheerleader uniform to explore every inch of you, painting gentle patterns on your wet skin like he used to draw his little doodles into his books.

You could feel him smile into the kiss as you uttered the softest of moans when he drew his fingernails up your spine, making you arch your back and roll your hips against his, the already soaked spot on your panties rubbing just right against the tent in his pants, and the shudder running through Eddie made the heat in your core blaze just as much as the sensation did.

“I need you,” you whispered, “If – if you want –“

“God, you have noooo idea how much,” Eddie cut you off with a soft chuckle – one that morphed into a sweet groan as you rolled your hips against his again as he eagerly met your movement with a buck of his own hips, his teeth gently grazing your lips as his hands roam down to the outside of your thighs, dragging his nails over your feverish skin to leave trails of sparks in the wake of his touches, nerves flaring like sparklers as your body came alive beneath his hands.

And it felt like your heart would burst out of your chest with nerves and exhilaration and love and arousal as Eddie’s thumb hooked around the waistband of your panties for the second time that night.

“These need to go,” he breathed into the kiss – a question more than a statement, asking for permission – and you replied with an eager nod.

“Then get rid of them,” you crooned, the heat in your core, the need for him, putting a low rasp into your voice you’d never heard there before.

And with the sound of tearing fabric filling the rain-laced silence of the van, the panties were gone, and you pulled away from the kiss to gape at Eddie.

Who looked just as surprised as you did.

“I’m…sorry,” he said, the sudden timidness in his expression not quite matching the way his pupils were blow, the black nearly eclipsing the umber shade of his irises in the half-dark in the van’s back, the dim, murky light of the parking lot’s streetlamps seeping through the windshield shedding just enough light.

“Did you just rip my panties?”, you giggled, and the guilt in his eyes grew as he replied, “Uh. You wanted them gone.”

“That’s hot,” you grinned. “Very metal.”

His relieved exhale filled the air before he kissed you again, one hand coming up to the nape of your neck as his other hand dove underneath the hem of your cheerleader skirt once again, fingertips gently wandering up the inside of your thigh, painting burning trails of pleasure over the sensitive skin, and the filthy sound you made when his thumb gently flicked over that spot at the apex of your thighs where you needed him most made you gasp in surprise. But before you could pull away from the kiss, before you could even think of feeling embarrassed, Eddie crooned into the kiss, “That was hotter. I hope there’s more where that was coming from.”

You smiled against his lips, and another groan bubbled up your throat as he repeated the motion, the pad of his thumb drawing slow circles over your clit, spreading the wetness that was pooling between your legs – one which had nothing to do with the rain and everything with him.

“Is this good?”, he whispered.

Yes, you wanted to reply, so good. But the sensations of burning pleasure the caress of his thumb was sending through you was stealing the words from your tongue and every rational thought from your mind until there was nothing left but the raw, all-consuming need for more, more, more.

Eddie seemed to understand, though – and your hips moving in sync with the caress of his fingertips over your soaked heat, you angled your head to trail kisses along his jaw, down the column of his throat, inhaling his intoxicating scent of leather and cologne and him, of the rainwater soaking his beautiful dark curls while your hands wandered down to slip beneath the hem of his shirt, caressing the soft skin beneath and relishing the sounds your kisses, your touches, conjured from his lips like the sweetest melody in the world.

“God, sweetheart,” Eddie breathed, and the rasp in his voice, darkened by his own arousal, did nothing to quench the need burning in your core, “You’re so fucking perfect.”

“So are you,” you whispered against his neck, feeling him shudder softly with the sensation of your hot breath fanning over his skin as his fingertips worked you into blissful oblivion.

“I need you,” you rasped, fingertips travelling down towards the waistband of his jeans, following the soft line of his happy trail before you stilled above the buckle of his belt, waiting for his permission, and a smile curved your lips as his hands left their previous position to undo the belt and help you free him.

Your gaze locked on his as your hand wrapped around his throbbing length, a barely suppressed groan ripping from his throat…and a sudden fit of nervousness gripped you.

And of course, Eddie – attentive, gentle Eddie – didn’t even take a split second to see the flicker of nerves which must have crossed your gaze, because with overwhelming tenderness in his gaze, his hands came down to grasp yours, lacing your fingers as he whispered, “We don’t have to do this now, sweetheart. We got all the time in the world, ‘kay?”

“I want this,” you said, your voice more vehement than you’d intended for. “I want all of you, Eddie. And I don’t want to wait a second longer, so if it’s what you want, too…”

The smile lighting up Eddie’s face even in the half-dark was the sweetest one you’d ever seen, so filled with love and tenderness and devotion for you that it made your heart sing as he said, “I don’t think there’s ever been anything I wanted more than…not just that. Just…you.”

For a heartbeat, you just smiled at each other.

Perfectly at ease in each other’s presence, just like it was supposed to be, like it had always been before you’d stopped sneaking around those two weeks ago.

“There’s just one more thing I need to do first,” you said softly, climbing to your feet, hunched so you wouldn’t hit your head on the van’s roof as you felt for the little button embedded there, and a triumphant little huff escaped you as you turned on the small ceiling light before you positioned yourself back on Eddie’s lap, straddling him – and froze as you saw the utter terror in his expression.

“Eddie? What’s wrong?”, you inquired softly, tilting your head.

“I – I’d thought we’d be leaving that off,” he replied hollowly.

And for the first time, you felt gnawing, gut-wrenching insecurity.

“Don’t you…want to see me?”, you asked timidly, heat rising in your cheeks, but the terror in Eddie’s gaze grew as he blurted, “NO! I mean, yes! Jesus, yes! I want to see you. It’s…you don’t have to see me.”

The way he spoke the words in a broken whisper, shattered you all over again.

Because it dawned on you what he might have heard in the course of his life to warrant such raging insecurity. In the course of the past two weeks. You could imagine it too vividly.

And your heart bled for him all over again.

“I don’t know how anyone could ever have perceived you as anything else,” you said quietly, taking his face in your hands, a silent plea for him to look at you, “But you’re beautiful, Eddie. Not just handsome, not just hot, but beautiful.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off when you fiercely added, “Like, that was the first thing I thought when I saw you for the first time, in Mrs. O’Donnell’s class. The only seat that was free was the one beside you and you looked at me with those stunning dark eyes and I was so, so nervous because I’d never seen you up close before and my heart plummeted three stories into the damn basement when I did because I knew I’d have the hardest time of my life not to ogle you like some creep. I mean, I did,” you snickered, “But very subtle.”

“You did?”

“God, yes. I memorized every detail. I’ll be getting my diploma in four weeks but I already graduated from the Eddie Munson Color Scheme School. I memorized the exact shades of your hair and the exact hue of your eyes before I ever told you the bat tattoo looked amazing. And I’m a little ashamed to tell you that my…my mind went a little bit into the gutter when I watched you draw your doodles, which, by the way, wasn’t about the doodles but your hands.”

There was a timid, bewildered little smile on Eddie’s soft lips as he watched you bite your lip.

“You…you’re not making that up?”, he inquired.

“The exact. Shade. Every little detail. It took me a week to memorize you better than I ever did my own damn reflection in the mirror so it’s safe to say I was crushing on you way before you started crushing on me.” Your expression softened as you placed a kiss on his cheek. “But I’ll turn the light off if you don’t want it. I just wanted you to know that whatever you heard…it was a lie. You’re beautiful, Eddie Munson. And maybe one day, I can help you see that, too.”

You made to rise from his lap and flip off the light, but Eddie’s hands grasped your waist, keeping you in place as he leaned in to kiss you.

And this time, there we no more interruptions. No more insecurities.

Just love.

“I love you, sweetheart” Eddie whispered into the kiss as he aligned himself with your entrance as you lifted your hips, heart racing with giddiness and love and the tiniest flutter of nerves – and with his beautiful umber eyes on yours, brimming with all the love mirrored in his voice, the tenderness of his touch as his free hand settled on your cheek, you slowly sunk onto him, burying him inside you, stretching you inch by tiny inch as you sunk down, breath hitching in your throat at the sensation, the tiny little sting of pain that didn’t escape his notice as he stilled. For a moment, worry took over his expression. “Wait, did – did that hurt?”

His voice was strained with a suppressed moan.

You were quick to shake your head. “No. Just a little sting. Don’t you dare stop,” you whispered with a smile.

You could sense how he wanted to protest, make sure you were okay when you were more than okay, and you met his lips in a kiss that was fierce enough to swallow all of his concerns as you settled in this new position. The sensation of him buried inside you knocked the air from your lungs and the strength from your body, delirious with the feeling of him as close as he could ever be, two pieces of a puzzle falling in place, and your eyes fluttered close with the flood of sensations.

“You good?”, Eddie asked, his fingertips caressing your cheeks, his voice strained with his arousal as he waited for you to adjust to him – and your mind went blank when you rolled your hips, your whole body turning into a live wire with the sensation bolting through your nerves, with Eddie’s blissed-out moan filling the interior of his van as he slowly rolled his hips to match your rhythm, his lips finding yours as his arms wrapped around you, your own hands burying in his mess of sodden curls.

It was better, so much better, than anything you’d ever imagined.

“Don’t stop”, you whispered as he gently thrust up, his hips snapping against yours, grazing that sweet spot deep inside of you to make you throw your head back as currents of pleasure zapped through your body, building this glowing, white-hot pressure in your core with each thrust.

“God, you feel so good,” Eddie murmured between moans. His breath prickled on your lips before he caught them in another kiss, open-mouthed and sloppy and sweet at the same time as you got lost in the moment, the raw, radiant bliss Eddie was making you feel, the sensation of your bodies melting together so perfectly, as if you were made for each other.

The sweet noises tumbling from his soft lips mingled with yours in-between kisses while his free hand began to trail your spine, the side of your neck, gently tilting your head to give him access to your throat. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin over your racing pulse as you cried out in pleasure at the throbbing ache building in your core, driving him deeper into your throbbing heat with each of his thrusts, each roll of your hips to match his pace, your heart pounding as fast as the rain still pelting down onto the van’s roof.

“I love you”, Eddie whispered, “I love you so much.”

The dark, rasping timbre of his voice engulfed your senses as his hand snaked beneath your skirt once more, fingertips dancing over your clit to draw the most sinful sounds from you with the skill you’d watched him play his beloved guitar so many times, building that glowing pressure in your core until you thought you’d burst with it.

With a final cry of pleasure, your climax washed over you, swept you away in a white-hot wave of bliss that made stars explode in your vision, your fingers tightening in his hair as you could feel him come undone alongside you at the feeling of your walls clenching around him, your name tumbling from his lips as he rested his forehead against yours.

There was only Eddie, buried deep inside you, making you feel as if you were flying as his hands found their way to your hips to help you lazily ride out your climaxes together.

And with the softest sigh bubbling from your lips, you collapsed against Eddie, face buried in the crook of his neck while his hands came up to caress the sides of your face, placing the softest kisses on the crown of your head as he murmured, a little timid all of a sudden, “Was…was that good for you?”

You raised your head to give him a blissful little smile, caught up in the daze of your afterglow. “God, this was so much better than good, Eddie.”

“Good,” Eddie grinned. “This…this was amazing. Like…I figured it would be amazing but this was…this was so much better than I even dreamed of and I dreamed of this, with you, more times than I’m comfortable admitting.” He let out a breathless chuckle of his own that mingled with your giggles.

He looked positively blissed. His curls, only just beginning to dry, were a wild mess, his pale cheeks dusted with a soft blush, and his umber eyes were wide, filled with so much joy and love that you felt a lump in your throat as he mirrored your grin with the most radiant, dazzling smile of his own.

“So, uh,” he grinned, nuzzling your nose, “I wanted to ask that over chocolate milkshakes at Benny’s diner but I figured now’s just as good a time as any, so…wanna go to prom with me?”

You reeled back, gaping at him. “Like, prom prom?”

“Um. Is there, like, more than one?”

The alarm in his eyes made you laugh. “No, I mean. You. Eddie Munson. Going to prom?”

“Well, since we’re official and the plan still stands to turn heel and get the Hell outta here together as soon as we get those diplomas, I thought I could just as well do something…weird for one night.”

You laughed, and Eddie joined in, his hand grasping yours to guide it to his lips, placing a delicate kiss on your knuckles.

“Uh, you didn’t reply yet. Getting a little nervous here, sweetheart.”

“Only if you attend in your best leather jacket.”

You could visibly see him deflate with relief at the thought of not having to wear an actual tuxedo, and your smile turned mischievous as you drawled, “And only if you help me pick out the dress you get to rip off of me afterwards.”

“That’s a deal I can live with,” he grinned, before his expression softened once more.

“I love you, sweetheart. And as long as you’ll have me…I’ll stay. Promise.”

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