#but then that just lead to them to have this huge mutual pining that was absolutely adorable and dorky

[nackrosor]

~Midnight Healing~

𝓢𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓷 𝓖𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓡𝓲𝓵𝓮𝔂 𝔁 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

[I highly recommend to put this song on repeat as background music. It will help set the mood.]

warnings/tags: 18+ smut, p*rn with feelings & plot, unexperienced reader, first kiss, first time, oral s*x (fem receiving), p in v, soft Ghost, slow dance, mutual pining, slight angst/comfort, Soap being the best mate, the team being supporting in their own way lmao, cap. price approved 👌🏻 summary: You're at the pub, enjoying a night out with your team. The soothing lulling music, the booze, Johnny's taunts and your own repressed feelings embolden you to invite Simon to join you in a slow dance. The dance leads to long overdue confessions which in turn lead to your first time together. word count: 12.5k. (longest one yet)

A special and huge thank you to my dear @magnoliabutters who has helped me SO MUCH. You've given me so many suggestions that inspired me to write the best possible version of this story. I probably would have given up halfway through if it wasn't for your support. I love you and appreciate you a lot. ♥️

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, elbows resting on the smooth surface of the counter with a thumb circling the cold rim of your half-full glass of bourbon. The soothing blues music playing in the background adds to your sense of calm, with notes vibrating through your limbs, echoing in your ribcage, and clearing your thoughts. You let yourself be lulled by the soft melancholy tune, quietly humming along and rocking your head in rhythm. 

Given your job as a task force officer, you rarely get a breather and a chance to enjoy a night out. It is a luxury for you and that is what makes it so special, a time to truly look forward to. Especially when you can share it with your brothers in arms, your family, not bonded by blood but by a profound feeling born through shared hardships and nurtured by trust, respect and understanding. One would imagine you'd prefer to spend your free nights alone or with different people, perhaps even a one-night lover, rather than with your coworkers, the very same guys you spend your entire days with, through sweat and tears, anger and frustration, and occasionally a moment of respite. This is exactly the reason why you wouldn’t dare unwind with anyone else; they are everything for you, the sole people you trust and you would gladly give your life for without hesitation. Why would you need anybody else? 

Seeing them loosen up for one night, just enough to treat themselves to a pint or a glass of whiskey is such the delight. You wouldn’t even need to chug a drink of your own to feel the tension leave your body, finally allowing yourself to relax. 

This time is no exception. Same place, same company, same feeling of being exactly where you need to be, of needing literally nothing else in the world.

"Enjoying yourself?" 

Soap's voice sounds clear in your ear and interrupts your blues-induced trance. A lazy smile greets you as you turn to look up at him. He settles down on the barstool next to you.

"Yeah… I love this music. It feels like a lullaby but instead of making me want to sleep, it makes me want to move, you know? "

"Sounds like you want to hit the dance floor! Care to give us a show?" 

"Wouldn't you like that!" 

You smirk at him, bumping your shoulder against his.

"Who wouldn’t?” he returns the nudge, playfully winking at you, “But I know someone who would particularly enjoy it, more than anybody else."

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a knowing look. Every time you come to the pub, you can't avoid one or two, occasionally three, drunken brash males hitting on you or simply gluing their eyes on you from afar, never stopping for the entire time you're here. You'd think that being literally surrounded by four menacing - some more than others - muscular men would prevent anyone from ever looking your way twice, especially weak-minded misogynists who don't believe a woman could take care of herself… That clearly isn't the case. Go figure! These people have no sense of shame or… self-preservation. 

"What ugly old man’s ball sack-looking dude is staring at me this time?" 

A chuckle escapes him. He shakes his head as he swirls the liquid in his glass before taking a sip. 

“No ugly old man’s ball sack-looking dude , just a possibly ugly dude.”

"Oh?" a wry smile takes form on your lips, "well, I could get behind that."

"He's been throwing some not-so-sneaky glances your way ever since we arrived."

"Yeah?”, you ask, taking a quick glance around the room. “Coordinates, Sergeant. Don’t leave me in the dark."

Soap's eyes glint mischievously as he subtly nods to your left, then raises his glass to his lips to take another sip and mask his grin. You follow the trajectory of his nod, gaze skimming the whole length of the counter, overlooking the serene faces of Gaz, Laswell, the captain, until it locks on a familiar pair of big dark eyes. The smirk on your lips immediately falters and your stomach flips. 

Simon is holding your gaze, seemingly unfazed, arms folded across his chest and muscles flexing under his black windbreaker. No matter how accustomed you are to seeing him in his casual attire, your heart always loses a beat whenever your eyes land on him. The way his skull balaclava hugs his face and the way the hood of his dark grey sweatshirt is all the way up, hiding his head, make his mesmerising eyes circled with black make-up even more striking and thus much more lethal to your poor weak heart. You’re so attracted to him, so infatuated… you’ve never felt this inexorable pull toward anyone before. It’s like a new form of gravity, so strong that you can’t even avert your gaze; it takes too much effort, like going against the laws of nature. 

Soap’s giggle draws you back from the trance. Your eyes dart around aimlessly for a moment before you whip around to glare at your friend.

“You’re a bastard.”

He shrugs innocently, that stupid grin of his still tugging at his lips.

"You saw it for yourself, he was staring."

"Yeah, 'cause he probably heard you or read your lips or… something."

"Right,” he says with a scoff, elongating the word. “Didn’t know superman was part of the 141…"

His mocking tone makes you roll your eyes. Grabbing your glass, you bring it to your lips and savour the sensation of the cool, sweet but strong liquid flowing down your throat. As you knock the empty glass back onto the counter, you catch a glimpse of Ghost. Fortunately, this time he appears to be engaged in discussion with Price, providing you with the green light that allows your wistful gaze to linger on him, unnoticed. 

"Well, you must admit that…”, you mutter almost to yourself, eyes reverently roaming his figure, “...if anyone had superpowers in our team, it would definitely be him." 

"Heh. You certainly look at him as if he already has them."

Johnny interrupts your reveries again and you shake your head, tearing your eyes away from Simon and trying to clear your mind in the process. "Stop it. He's just, he's-" 

"He's single, for all I know." 

The sergeant shrugs again with an innocent smile as you give him the stink-eye.

"You’re a menace ."

You poke him hard in the ribs, causing him to wince and almost spill his drink. You both can’t help but laugh.

“I swear if you told him or anyone anything… I'll strangle you in your sleep.”

“Mmm, so passionate, y/n. He’s gonna love that.”

You roll your eyes again, yet can't help but smile.

Soap is your best mate; you're closer to him than the rest of the squad, which is saying a lot given how close the team is. You may or may not have let your feelings for Simon slip during a private conversation one night at the HQ while you were a little tipsy, and he's been a little shit about it since then, unwilling to let you live it down. You know it's all in good fun, there's no malice in his words, but his taunts do nothing to help you keep your feelings under control. 

“You should tell him, by the way.”

“We’ve already talked about this, Johnny…”

“I just don’t understand why you’re keeping it to yourself. You scared of getting rejected?”

You shrug, your gaze fixed on the empty glass in front of you as you fidget with it absentmindedly. He struck a nerve. Taking the first step without being absolutely certain that your feelings are reciprocated and thus making a colossal blunder scares the shit out of you. Actually, the mere thought of taking a shot in the dark makes your stomach churn with dread. 

“Y/n, he would never turn you down. Never .”

“You don’t know that.”

Soap scoffs incredulously. “C’mon! You’ve seen the way he looks at you! There’s nothing PG-13 about it.”

He pauses for a moment waiting for your retort but when you don't give him any, he draws conspiratorially close to your ear. “Although, I guess you don’t get to hear what he says about you when it’s just us boys…”

You perk up, turning toward him with a curious and clearly hopeful look on your face. Does he know something you don’t? Or is he messing with you? You can never tell with Soap.

“W-what does he say?”

Soap grins victoriously, undoubtedly pleased with himself for catching you failing, yet again, to hide your stupid little crush. 

"Gave my word that I would keep my mouth shut..."

“Ugh!", you push him away with a hard smack on his arm, "you’re insufferable.”

“Go talk to him and find out on your own. In the unlikely case that what you fear the most happens, any of us smart boys would gladly take his place in your heart, love ."

You shake your head with a scoff, eyes drifting aimlessly to the other side of the room. Turns out, Johnny was trying to get under your skin, as per usual, however you can’t help but mull his words over.

Perhaps he's got a point, perhaps it is time to let it all out in the open and face the consequences , whatever they might be. Johnny said that Simon has talked about you with the guys. It might be nothing, but what if he really has let his own feelings slip during a conversation, just like when it happened to you with Soap? Or perhaps, he had a real heart to heart talk with his mates… 

You have your doubts, but then again why would Johnny mention that he spoke of you? Why would he try so hard to reassure you that Simon would never reject you? Why would he stress out the fact that he often gets caught staring at you? Could your friend be doing this solely for a laugh? No, Johnny is not that kind of person. He cares about you and he clearly understands how much you care about Simon. He would not give you a friendly push merely to watch you fall face first to the ground. There must be some truth behind his jokes and teasing… but are you ready to risk it all to find out? Being rejected isn't the only fear that prevents you from acting on your feelings... 

"Whatever.” You sigh at last, propping yourself up by pushing your palms against the edge of the counter. “I'm here to unwind, not get caught up in my head as usual. So… now, I’m going to dance. And, just to be clear, I'm not doing it for you or Simon or anybody other than myself."

The pointed look you give him makes Soap raise his hands in defeat, however it doesn't wipe that little smirk off his face. The glass grazes his curled up lips as he looks at you with an amused twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah… You'll thank me later.”

His words get lost in the rising bustle of the pub; the cacophony of voices and the clatter of glasses gets louder just as the music fills your ears the more you get away from the bar. The soothing tune comes out of two huge amps set at either side of an empty stage, and floods over you, the sole person standing in front of it. You feel a bit self-conscious at first, sensing everyone's eyes on you but you try your best to ignore them. Letting your eyes flutter shut, you focus solely on the music, allowing yourself to be transported by the slow lulling rhythm. 

Soon, you're swaying your hips in time, your feet picking up their own pattern. You don't care about how you're moving, how it may look; all you care about is letting go, setting yourself free, feeling the music pass through you, and being completely in the moment. You dance worry-free, entirely surrendering control of your body to the enthralling and sinuous voice of the electric guitar. Few things are more freeing than dancing like nobody’s watching…

The song comes to an end almost too quickly and so does the enchantment that has seized you. When you open your eyes, chancing a look around you, you immediately meet Simon’s stare. He's still sitting at the bar but now he's turned toward you, back to the polished wood of the counter, one elbow resting on its edge. Clearly he has been watching you the whole time, enjoying the show , as Soap said. You feel a thrill run through you. Perhaps it's the alcohol kicking in, perhaps those feelings pushed deep inside you are finally emerging to the surface. Or is it just the adrenaline of the dancing still holding control over your body? 

Regardless of the answer, you find yourself walking toward him; the initial notes of a new song matching your sultry and unhurried steps. He firmly holds your gaze, but you notice the shifting in his seat as you approach him with renewed confidence.

You stop when you’re right in front of him, a coy smile plays on your lips while you hold out your hand.

"Care to join me?" 

His eyes flicker to your extended palm then wander over your face, as if he's looking for a cue that would tell him whether you're joking or being serious.

"You're outta your mind, princess ."

You raise your eyebrow at the word 'princess'. He knows you don’t like to be called like that but he doesn't seem to care. He keeps using that stupid term, especially when he wants to reprimand you, putting you in your place or just to tease you and get under your skin. But there is something in the way he said it just now, an endearing nuance in his tone that combined with his thick accent makes you melt like chocolate.

"Why? You seemed really interested only a minute ago."

You tease him with a challenging look on your face while you nonchalantly tug down the zip of your biker jacket. After the dance you're feeling a bit flushed, you need to let your skin breathe. No other reason for uncovering your cleavage, right? Definitely not to draw his attention to the deep neckline of your dress. Of course not, why would you do that? 

"I was only-" 

You interrupt him, arms folding across your chest, drawing his eyes even more to the curves of your body. " Enjoying the show , right."

"No.” He counters quickly, his voice loud and clear even over the music. Doesn’t he sound a little nervous? Or are you simply imagining it? 

“I was just… glad to see this carefree side of you. It's a good look on you."

You stare into each other’s eyes, your heart thumping hard in your chest. You didn’t expect to hear him say that.

"Well…”, you bite your lip as you try to ease your racing heart, arms falling back to your sides, “...dancing is very freeing. You should try it."

"I don't think it would work for me."

"Why don't we find out?" 

Shivering just a little, you take another step forward. His head slightly cranes up so that he can keep his piercing gaze on yours. You move your hand on his wrist, fingers wrapping gently around it before giving a little pull in your direction.

"C'mon…", you give him a teasing smile as you step back, head nodding back to the space behind you, “...let’s go.”

Despite your pulling, Simon doesn’t budge a single inch, but you see him hesitate. You keep tugging at his wrist, stepping backwards, even attempting to pout, until he silently relents and stands up, letting you drag him toward the stage at last. You didn't expect him to give up. You thought you'd have to put much more effort into it, or that you'd have to be the one giving up in the end. You're genuinely surprised by the turn of events but you won't let that dent your spirit now. You've just started playing with fire and you can't help but feel the thrill of it, the excitement lighting up inside of you. 

You stop when you reach the spot you previously made your own during your solo dance and turn around to face him. He stands there, tall and motionless, the hood of his sweatshirt still on; he looks so out of place on the dance floor, the sight makes you chuckle.

"Don't worry Si, nobody would dare judge you."

"I don't care about that."

"No?"

With a smile on your face, a gaze fixed on him, you start to sway your hips in sync again. His eyes immediately flicker down to take in your movements. He doesn’t seem to care about the fact that he looks like a freaking pole, standing so still in front of you, not moving even one muscle. His whole focus is on you and he seems to particularly enjoy being able to watch you from the best seat in the house.

“You could move your shoulders a little bit, you know? Or even just nod your head in time with the music.”

It’s so evident that he doesn’t know what to do with his body, where to even begin. You almost feel guilty of having dragged him there, of putting him on the spot.

“Here, follow my steps.”

You pick up a simple left-to-right footwork, following the slow but steady rhythm of the drums and encourage Ghost to mirror your motions with a nod and a gentle smile. He studies you, eyes observing your body attentively, picking up every little movement you make. 

He appears quite stiff as he attempts to follow along; his bulky body doesn't seem keen to make him look as graceful on the dancefloor as it does on the battlefield. But he's trying at least, and quickly getting the hang of it.

“That’s it! You’re not half bad, Si!” 

A soft chuckle escapes you as you bite your bottom lip. Seeing him dance - or try to - makes you oddly giddy, euphoric even. It's just such a rare and bizarre thing to see that you can't help but smile wide and enjoy the moment to the fullest.

Raising your arms in the air, you swing your hips and bend your knees as you lower your body to the ground, only to raise up again, twisting your curves like a snake. The thrill of his probing stare piercing you causes you to shudder; his eyes are unwavering, admiring your every move with utmost devotion. Having his undivided attention makes you feel alive, it makes you feel special and bold. 

You take a step closer and reach out to grab both of his hands in yours, your movements mellowing to fit his laid-back rocking. His calloused hands are surprisingly soft and warm as they wrap perfectly around yours, like matching pieces of a puzzle; his touch feels comforting, stable, safe. As you look up at him, eyes locking once again, you feel your heart pound rapidly in your chest. A small smile takes form on your lips to mask the turmoil rising within you.

“This feels… nice, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

Your heart soars upon hearing his answer, smile widening.

“I didn't know you could dance."

"I can't dance”, you correct him with a light chuckle, “I simply enjoy moving my body to the music."

"Never seen you do that before."

"Well, most of you guys don't even like listening to music, so I only get to do it when I'm on my own… which is a rare occurrence since apparently you babies can’t leave me alone for more than one minute."

You squeeze his hands playfully, a cheeky grin playing on your face. You notice his eyes crinkle lightly in response.

"You can use my office, if you want. There's enough room to… move around."

You let out a hearty laugh, head shaking softly. Your eyes lower to the floor for a moment, monitoring the way both your feet move perfectly in sync and at the same time picturing the silly image in your mind.

"You gonna sit at your desk, grumbling over your paperwork while, with music blasting in my ears, I dance like nobody’s watching right in front of you?" 

"Why not,” he says with a shrug.

His voice doesn’t betray his collected demeanour, but you know he’s smiling underneath that mask.

"Well, for one…”, you raise one eyebrow, giving him a knowing look, “I think it would get pretty distracting, rather quickly." You bring your joined hands to the level of your eyes and his chest, slowly interlacing your fingers with his. The muscles of his arms seem to tense for a moment.

"...Fair enough."

"Secondly…”, you trail off, eyes flickering up to meet his serious stare, voice losing a bit of its jovial nuance, “...people might start talking."

"Who cares."

His remark is curt and blunt, and it takes you a bit by surprise. He actually sounds as though he wouldn't care less if your coworkers were to start spreading rumours about you two possibly being... intimate. Or perhaps you're merely grasping at straws. After all, you're talking about dancing. Nothing more, right? 

"You’re telling me that you wouldn’t care what the others may think or say?" your tone is clearly hesitant this time, vulnerable even, eyes frantically searching his, "...watching us dance like this? Being this close?"

He keeps silent for a long moment, gaze boring into yours. His hands then pull on your wrists, tugging you closer to him. He swiftly wraps his arms around your waist, while your hands fly onto his chest for support as a surprised gasp escapes your mouth.

“How could I give a crap about them or what they think… when I have you here in my arms?”

His straightforward statement catches you off-guard, causing you to stumble upon your feet. It feels like the tables have turned. Your flirtatiousness made him take the bait and now you’re the one who doesn’t know how to act. Your boldness instantly vanishes, it’s as if you never had it in you in the first place. A tardy nervous chuckle slips out of you as you struggle to regain your synced rocking.

“You must’ve had a drink too many, huh Si?”

“Never been more lucid in my life.”

You stare deeply into his eyes, a wild-eyed look on your face, as he firmly holds your gaze. Tension soaks the air around you, you can sense it getting thicker and thicker. Suddenly, there's not a single soul in the pub but you two. Your eyes locked, bodies swaying gently together, lightly brushing against one another. Your heart thumps forcefully against your chest. 

[ 2:26 min .]

… 

I just want to get your head back, baby

Give you all the love I got, for sure

So, baby, if you've got that feeling

You know I wanna give you that midnight healing

Oh, I just want to make love to you all night long

… 

Perhaps it's merely your perception, but the music appears to get louder. The song’s lyrics are now distinctly clear; they echo in your head, tickling your mind like a subtle hint intended specifically for you.

Returning your attention to Simon, you detect a strange glint in his eyes. Did he receive the hint as well? The way his grasp on your waist tightens, palms roving over your sides and drawing you even closer to him, seems to confirm your supposition.

You both seem to lean forward, attracted like magnets, until your faces are merely inches away. The music deafens, slowly making its way into the background, providing the perfect mood for this special moment. Neither of you says a word, instead you let your eyes speak for themselves. Everything around you seems to blur into a negligible mist. Simon has you hypnotised, just as the music did, with the intensity of his gaze and the warmth of his touch. As one of his hands slides up to your neck, fingers grazing the soft hollow area just above your pulse point, a sharp shiver travels up your spine. 

The room spins around you. All of a sudden, your heart pounds hard against your chest and in your ears. You sway on your feet with fingers tugging on his jacket to keep your balance. His hands move quickly to your back, to support your body as you shift your weight on him for a moment before catching yourself. You feel hot, dizzy, and out of breath. 

"Y/n?" 

"J-just give me a moment, will you?" You say rather harshly, unable to keep the rising panic and tension out of your voice.

His concerned gaze is the last thing you see before you abruptly pull away and dash back towards the counter, mind buzzing, chest tightening. You notice Soap’s smile drop into a puzzling look as he watches you rush over but before he can ask you anything, you hear Gaz's hesitant voice coming from behind you. 

"What's going on?" 

You throw a quick glance over your shoulder, instantly meeting his perplexed look. Your actions seem to have drawn the attention of Price and Laswell, too; you find both of their gazes set on you. 

You struggle to take deep breaths, your eyes darting aimlessly from one friendly face to another while your hands clutch around the table edges, fingertips turning white. It takes all your efforts to not raise your gaze toward the dance floor and rest it on the man still standing exactly where you have just left him. 

"Nothing! It's all going great!" 

Your voice comes out higher pitched than normal but you try to mask it with the most convincing smile you can muster. 

You turn toward Johnny before you can witness the other's reactions or give them time to question your words. Your friend pierces you with a questioning look that doesn't leave room for lies. 

"I-I think I'm gonna pass out."

He immediately reaches out to place a comforting hand on your arm as he slides his freshly refilled glass towards you.

"You ok? What happened?" 

Your hand shakes as you grab the drink. You rub it to your forehead, cheeks, and neck before moving it to your lips. The cool sensation of the glass against your feverish skin seems to ease your panic, even if only a little. You focus completely on the cold liquid scorching down your throat as you take a long sip. 

You gasp, pulling from the rim of the glass. "Nothing. It's just-" you take another deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut,"...it felt all-too real, all-too quickly, I guess. I'm not entirely sure. I panicked."

"Y/n," he coos softly, gently squeezing your arm, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to-" 

"But that's the point! I want it! We were so close, I mean… you saw it! If it wasn't for the mask, I’m pretty sure he would’ve leaned in for a kiss. I-I felt my heart was about to burst!” The words fall out of your mouth in a nervous rambling. “I wanted to close the distance so bad… that I fucking ran away." A deprecating chuckle escapes you, eyes rolling in disbelief. "I'm so fucking stupid!" 

Johnny squeezes your shoulder again, offering you a genuine smile.

"You are not stupid, y/n... Well, maybe just a little bit." He grins in response to your not-so-convincing glare. "Could a little more privacy help you feel better? You know there are rooms upstairs, you could always go there if you want to..."

You watch as his hand disappears inside his jacket and reappears a moment later, holding a small silver key between his fingers. He holds it out to you and you take it from him mindlessly.

Soap laughs as he detects the mute query in your stunned expression.

"I took it earlier thinking I might get lucky and use it for myself, but it looks like I’m not the lucky one tonight…"

Your gaze darts from your friend's face to the key, then back to him. Your heart starts racing again as the true meaning that small metallic object holds hits you like an unforeseen gunshot to the chest. You let out a loud groan, your hands flying to your face to hide your grimace.

"What is it now?"

"Johnny...", his name falls out of your lips in a sing-songy cry, barely audible above the music and chatter. Lips quivering both in embarrassment and fear for the confession you’re about to make. With a whisper, you share, "I've never been with anyone before... I've never even kissed anyone." You chance a look at your friend through your fingers. "What if I make a fool out of myself in front of Simon? Hell, who am I kidding? I-I already have!"

The astonished expression on Soap's face only aggravates your growing anxiety.

"Creeping Jesus! Y/n… I thought you… uhm, it’s okay-," he awkwardly shifts in his seat, his mouth opening and shutting without emitting a single sound, at least not one that you can hear. His gaze abruptly darts to the side, focusing on something far over your shoulder before moving back to rest on you with a barely concealed alarm. "Ok, take a deep breath, he's coming over."

You only have time to curse under your breath and pull your hands away from your face before you feel a presence behind you that makes every hair on your body stand on end.

When you hear your name being called, you turn warily to face the man standing by your side, stomach twisting as you meet his inquisitive stare. You believe you can also see a flicker of hurt in his eyes, too. 

"Simon, I'm… I'm-"

"She needed some fuel, L.T.!" Soap rushes to your aid, grinning up at Ghost and smacking him on the arm - a little too hard. "She's all good now… right, y/n?" 

He gives you a quizzical look, as if he's asking whether you're ready to handle the situation on your own or if you need more time; at least, that's what you believe he’s trying to convey.

You respond with a feeble nod before your gaze shifts to Simon. You offer him your glass. "A sip?"

He stares at you intently, seemingly studying your face, his expression now unreadable. 

"No."

"A-alright, more for me..." you fake a smile and then guzzle the drink all in one go. You slam the empty glass on the counter as you suck air through your teeth, grimacing at the piercing sensation of the scorching liquor spreading inside your system. Your gaze is drawn to Soap's, and you give him a somewhat confident smile, which he returns with a little wink.

Your hand then moves on its own accord, finding Ghost's large palm and interlacing your fingers with his; the contact sends a chill up your spine. When you look up at him, a ghost of a smile appears on your lips. You're not sure what you're doing or what's going to happen, but you try not to second-guess yourself too much and risk screwing up for the second time in a row.

Taking a step back, away from the counter, you beckon him to follow you.

"Come with me…"

He does not resist your pull. He does not hesitate for even one second. He trails behind you as you lead him up the stairs and to the second floor. 

Neither of you dare utter a single word as you walk through the corridor and come to a door that matches the number on the key Soap gave you. You don't dare glance at him as you walk in, taking in the dim tavern-like atmosphere of the tiny bedroom. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the king size bed in the centre, which takes up most of the space. Your mouth goes dry. You wonder what Simon might be thinking, if the same thoughts that course through your mind are pestering him as well. 

The sound of the door being closed startles you and makes you whirl around. Your gaze immediately captures his, and you gulp under his piercing stare.

With slow heavy steps that mismatch your thundering heartbeat, he walks over to you, stopping only when he’s towering right over you, standing tall in all his imposing height. You keep your gaze levelled in front of you, unable to meet his eyes, however his fingers curl under your chin and nudge your head up, forcing you to face him. 

" Princess… " he murmurs in a low breathy tone, his voice tinged with something akin to irritation, “why are you playing little games with me?”

Your stomach flips again. Of course he’d assume you’ve been messing with him, leading him on; it’s only fair considering the odd behaviour you’ve had all night. And probably not just tonight. 

“I’m not, trust me…”

He pauses for a brief moment, his keen eyes studying your face, possibly looking for proof of your sincerity.

"You brought me here. Why ?" 

"I-I don't know…"

"You don't know?" 

You mentally reprimand yourself for your dumb answer and shake your head in an attempt to dissipate the haze that has settled over your mind.

"I mean, I know why, but-" you try to swallow but your throat is dry. The intensity of his dark eyes boring into yours causes you to stutter, "f-fuck Si, you make me so nervous I can't even think straight!"

Your voice comes out louder than intended and soaked with frustration. Your hand moves on his wrist, tugging at it to pry yourself free from his grasp, but his hold on you does not relent.

"You were dancing for all the pub to see until a minute ago, and I make you nervous?" 

"Yes! Of course! I don't give a damn about those strangers! Why should I? Besides that's not the point! You make me nervous because you are... you are-" 

You shake your head again as you let out a shuddering breath, your gaze averted from his. You know you can't really back down now. You have to tell him the truth but it's damn hard to find the right words to express exactly how you feel. And more than that, to finally find the courage to say them.

You feel like your heart is on the verge of bursting out of your chest.

"You’re someone I really care about, Simon."

His fingers squeeze your chin, urging you to look up, and when you do you notice that his eyes have softened. 

“That made you panic?”

You give him a lopsided smile, but a short-lived one, for your anxieties come tumbling back, slithering into your mind and compelling you to address them, once and for all.

"T-There's something else..."

You want to tell him that you've never been with a man before, that you've never even had your first kiss yet, and that the thought of him, the only man you’ve ever loved, desired , possibly being your first, makes you incredibly nervous and self-conscious. You really want to tell him everything and free yourself of this burden but your voice gets stuck in your throat and you gape up at him, feeling your stomach churn.

Simon waits patiently for you to speak up, his fingers still holding your chin. The soft look he offers you seems to ease your tension a little. 

"I have…”, you draw a sharp breath, "...no experience in this field , if you catch my drift...”. You mutter those few words in a small voice as your face twists into a grimace. 

Your confession hangs in the air for what feels like eternity, your heart seems to have stopped beating altogether. 

"I know."

“Wha-?!”

You are completely thrown off by his matter-of-fact tone.

"H-how? Why-" you stutter, mouth gaping, your eyes wide. How could he know? You've never told anybody, not until a few minutes ago. But he couldn't have heard you, could he? That would be impossible. 

"Is it really so fucking obvious?" 

"No.” 

In stark contrast to yours, his voice sounds cool and collected. His fingers graze your skin as they move up from your chin to your cheek. "I figured you had no idea how this worked when suddenly you’re lacking your usual confidence and turning into a bloody school-girl. It threw me off at first. I thought you didn’t want this…”

" Hell…”, your head slowly shakes in disbelief, eyes darting to the side. 

Suddenly you don’t know if you should feel relieved, ashamed or sorry for it all. Your own body chooses for you, opting for an odd mix of the three; shoulders slumping, mind buzzing, you stare into space while his words sink in. 

So he's been into you the whole time but your mixed signals, caused by your stupid anxieties, have made it look like you were not into him? Or that you were just playing with him? Seriously? What kind of shitty B-rated rom com is this? 

" So , you've never been held by a man.” Simon’s calm voice draws you back to the moment, his fingers taking hold of your chin once again. “ Blimey . Is that what makes you so nervous?" 

"Is it really not a problem for you?" you ask out of genuine curiosity, brows furrowing as your eyes meet his.

Simon’s scoff almost turns into a hearty laugh as he holds your gaze, eyes crinkling.

"No man has ever put their filthy hands on you and I should be - what? Sad? Disappointed? For God's sake, princess..."

He shakes his head, fingertips taking better hold of your jaw as he leans down.

“You and your worries…” His tone is almost scolding but playfully so, eyes studying every feature of your face. “Stop thinking so much, you numpty . It’s not good for you.”

“Tell me something I don’t know…”, you let out a long shuddering breath, in an attempt to let go of the lingering worry still tightening your throat, "I just… don't want to fuck this up, Si. You mean too much to me..."

He hums softly. 

Silence engulfs you. A silence tinged with renewed tension. Not the type of tension that fuels your anxieties but the kind that makes you warm inside. Soft distant notes coming from downstairs fill the room, washing over you in a soothing yet electric wave, reminding you of the dance you shared, of how close you were and the desire that was rising, burning hot, inside of you. 

Just like a magnet the attraction between you and Simon grows. 

His free hand moves on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him and just like before, out of instinct, your hands land on his chest. He holds your chin high, his gaze piercing straight to your heart.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" 

You bite your lip, surprised by his forwardness, a nervous giggle shaking through you. "What kind of question is that-"

"Do you want me to kiss you, princess?" 

He asks a second time with a more serious tone that makes your nervous giddiness fade. Looking deep into his eyes, you take a long breath to ease your racing heart, or at least attempt to.

"Y-yeah, I want you to kiss me."

His hand moves over yours resting on his chest, and guides it up to his neck. 

"Pull up my mask, uncover my mouth. Only my mouth."

You stop breathing altogether, heart jumping in your throat. 

"Y-You want me to do it?" 

"Aye."

Touching his mask, pulling it up to uncover his face feels like such an intimate gesture… Your eyes roam reverently over his newly uncovered skin as your fingers gently peel up the fabric of his balaclava, until his mouth is completely exposed to your sight and you can let your adoring gaze truly linger for the first time. You’ve caught glimpses of his face before, his chin looking vaguely familiar for the few times you’ve seen Simon drink or eat in front of you and the team. But that’s all it has ever been: glimpses. You’ve never been allowed to study his clean-shaved chin and alluring mouth like you are now, from so up close.

"You have pretty lips…"

Your comment slips out of your mouth before your mind could register it and you grimace out of embarrassment. "Uh, sorry, that was-" 

Words die on your tongue as soon as you feel his hand firmly squeeze your jaw. Your eyes immediately dart to his, which bore into yours. Slowly - breathtakingly slow, he draws closer until his lips hover inches away from yours and you can feel his hot breath on your skin. You swallow dry. In a heartbeat he closes the distance, kissing you gently, softly but with a clear, barely-withheld passion. 

You respond to the kiss after a moment of stun. The contact of his lips on yours feels like a soft dream at first, one that seizes your mind in a haze and makes you walk on cloud nine, and then grows in force, as if Simon can't contain his desire any longer.

Your lips part and his tongue slips into your hot mouth, eager to explore this new territory. You moan in the kiss and meet him in a twisting dance of control. 

Every move comes surprisingly natural to you, as if you’ve done this a million times before.

His hand travels down from your back to your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh with a possessive squeeze, then slips even lower to lift your short black dress at its edges and tug it upward just enough to expose the back of your thighs. He doesn't waste time when moving his hand onto that newly uncovered area, kneading the tight flesh there as he bends forward, causing you to arch your back and latch your hands around his neck. Bodies tucking closer. 

You take a deep breath as you slightly pull away, lips still grazing his, your hot breaths merging together. 

All the words you thought would play out in your head in such an important moment are now nowhere to be found. Instead, it’s all just a feeling of rightness between you and him. None of your fantasies could have ever prepared you for a feeling so… intoxicated. 

"Simon…", you usher in a barely audible whisper, slipping your hand under his jacket and feeling his muscles tense under your wandering touch. His lust clouded eyes search yours, his chest heaving hard, hands pressing against you and relenting a second later, as if he’s trying to restrain himself. 

"...I want you to be my first."

A guttural sound comes out of his mouth at your words, his fingers spread again on your ass cheek, squeezing it hard and causing you to whimper. His gaze seems to get darker and he draws closer once more, teeth grazing your bottom lip, nibbling at it. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Positive."

And just like that, as if a barrier has been finally lifted, his lips crush onto yours once more but harder, hungrier than the first time. In one swift motion he yanks the biker jacket off your shoulders and tosses it on the floor. You instantly match his eagerness, returning the favour; his own windbreaker dropping at your feet. 

Before your mind can register what’s happening, you find yourself back against the wall, your shoulder blades hitting the hard surface in an audible thud. You feel your guts twist as heat starts to pool in your belly. 

Your lips are still connected, unwilling to separate. His hands dive on your hips, the thin fabric of your flared dress creases under his ravenous groping. One hand slides down, curling up the hem and slipping underneath, meeting the side of your bare upper thigh. His palm closes around it, firmly, possessively as he lifts your leg up to his hip; you wouldn’t be surprised if you were to find a red mark on your skin later, nor would you be displeased. You moan in his mouth in response and let your own hands wander on his body, blindly scanning the muscles of his torso from above his sweatshirt, only to slide lower and lower, until you find its edges and curl them up. Your fingers sneak under the fabric, meeting the smooth skin of his abdomen; his muscles tense up at the teasing contact. Your palms climb up his abs, his pecks, committing the tactile sensation of every inch of his taut torso to memory. 

As you both pull away, gasping for air, you let your eyes fall to where your hands disappear under his clothes; you want to look at him, feast your hungry eyes on his naked body but before you can do it yourself, Simon grabs the hem of his sweatshirt and pulls it off his head, adding it to the rest of your discarded clothes. However, he doesn’t give you time to take his bare chest in, for he grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you up like you weigh nothing at all, walks you over to the bed and drops you on the mattress. 

Only at this moment are you allowed to let your eyes wander over the muscles of his torso, probably the only part of his body you've already had the pleasure of seeing in the past, although mostly in not so pleasant times, when he needed to be patched up. This time it's totally different. Your hungry gaze devours every inch of him, glinting in twisted pleasure when it meets the scars that you remember having tended to yourself. 

You're too eager to touch him again to keep laying there waiting. Quickly throwing your boots off the side of the bed, you crawl on your knees toward him, hands latching on the inseam of his trousers to unzip them. In the meantime he yanks his own boots off his feet and out of the way, with eyes glued to yours. 

When you're done with his zip, before you can tug his jeans down, he pushes you back on the mattress and joins you on the bed, settling himself on top of your body, knees resting at either side of your legs. 

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time.”

The way his raspy voice breaks a little as he ushers his confession makes your stomach twist.

“Do w-what, exactly?”

His hands move on your collarbone, peeling the thin straps of your dress and your bra off your shoulders. You allow him to tug them down your chest as you look up at him with nothing but unyielding passion. His eyes wander over your freshly uncovered breasts and you can see his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, jaw setting hard. 

He takes a moment to answer, staring down at you, perhaps struggling to give voice to something that has been swirling against the recesses of his mind for quite some time. 

“Push you on a bed, pin your body under mine and… taste you.”

A sharp shiver runs up your spine at his words, heart skipping a beat. 

One of his palms closes around your breast, firmly squeezing the soft flesh, while the other lifts the skirt of your dress up to your stomach. Without missing a beat he bends down beneath your thighs and presses his mouth against your panties, just above your lower belly. 

“Oh!”

Your hips buck up on their own at the sudden stomach-churning contact. His free hand moves to rest on your upper thigh, pressing your body back against the mattress. 

"This is uncharted territory, innit?"

"I-It is, Lieutenant…", you match his playful tone even though your voice is but a mere whisper, struggling to get out in between your ragged breaths, "...nobody has yet claimed that path..."

You hear him hum in appreciation and you feel his voice too, vibrating against your core.

"Don't mind if I do."

You take a sharp breath as you feel his lips press against you again, only lower this time, teasing your most sensitive part. The thin fabric of your underwear does nothing to muffle the intense touch and yet the obstacle irritates you, you want it out of the way and Simon seems to share your feelings. Both his hands move on your hips, grabbing the hem of your panties and sliding them down and off your legs. A thrill curses through your whole body at the sight of your undies being tucked inside the back pocket of his jeans. Simon’s eyes crinkle lightly as they watch your reaction, lips curving into a smirk.

You don’t really care about them now, whether he’s planning on returning them or making you walk out of here butt naked. All your attention is drawn to the cool breath blowing against your delicate skin, turning hot only a second later as Simon leans closer, until you feel his lips meet your heat and cause you to whimper. The cloth of his mask grazing against your folds only adds to the stimulating touch.

His hot tongue swipes up your core once, twice, with hands spreading you wider for him to reach every inch of you. Another slow stripe from your entrance up to your clitoris and your body shakes in ecstasy. He latches his lips to you and starts to suck hard, swirling his tongue around your nub and dragging it up and down along your wetness. 

He said it. He wanted to taste you. And that is exactly what he’s doing, with no hesitation whatsoever, nor waste of time. You’re already a quivering mess beneath him, pathetic whines falling from your parted lips, hands closing in fists as fingers dig into the sheets. 

“F-Fuck, Simon…”

You feel his soft chuckle against you; it drives you mad. 

He shifts from his position, lips pulling away as he grabs the back of your thighs to tug you closer and pin your spread legs to your stomach. You chance a look at him through your heavy lidded eyes. His lips and chin are wet with your juices, the sight ignites a fire inside you that you’ve never felt before. The way you’re spread for him, your privateness so thoroughly exposed for the first time in your life… you thought that you’d be embarrassed, that you’d be awfully shy to show yourself like this, especially to him. You do sense a faint tightness in your stomach and a warmth spreading in your face, yet there’s another feeling prevailing over the rest. A feeling that surges from Simon himself; the way he leans back down, hands travelling up your body to grab your breasts, the way he’s devouring you like a starved man, the way he’s taking care of you, making sure to pleasure you, to make you feel good… It allows no room for awkwardness or discomfort, only a warm pervasive and soothing feeling of pure care and devotion to wash over you and envelope you whole. 

The lewd sound of his mouth working against you has long prevailed over the music and it only seems to grow in tone the more the tightening of the heat in your belly grows in intensity. You feel it coming, the high is close. Your hands fly toward him, landing on his head. You grab his mask, tug at it, feeling it slip from its place, then you freeze abruptly, as soon as you realise what you’re doing. You look down again, instantly meeting Simon’s hard stare. A strange glint passes over his eyes; he seems to ponder something for a moment then come to a final decision. In a few dismissive moves, he pulls away from you, grabs the dark fabric curled under his nose and yanks it off his head, throwing it carelessly on the floor. 

Your heart is sent into a frenzy. It no longer knows what to do; whether it should keep thundering in your heart for the intense and building pleasure or stopping altogether for the shock of what you have just witnessed. Your wide eyes wander toward him, curious and hesitant at the same time but they only catch a glimpse of his bare face before he disappears between your legs once again, latching his mouth on you even more greedily than before, possibly feeling more free in his movements without the mask impediment. You want to watch him, stare at him as he drives you to heaven but your head falls back on the mattress, eyes squeezing shut and back arching sharply as a wave of skin-crawling chills sets your entire body aflame. It is nothing like the orgasms you’ve had before, when you touch yourself. This is a new feeling; it’s intense, it goes to your head, it makes you dizzy and wordless. It makes you feel loved. 

Simon keeps moving against you, tongue curling at your entrance, gathering up the fruits of his hard work. His hands still pinning your thighs close to your stomach, fingers digging in your soft flesh as he eases your shakes. 

Your mind is still struggling to come out of the haze when your hand blindly travels down in search of him. Fingers tug at his short locks of hair, urging him to come up to meet you. He lingers a moment longer to press a soft kiss on your swollen bundle of nerves, then on your lower belly and between your breasts as he makes his ascent. Finally he faces you, eyes meeting again. 

If your body wasn't already heavily overwhelmed, the sight of his beautiful sharp features would send all your senses into overdrive. 

He looks at you so openly, dark eyes twinkling with adoration and what you can only read as vulnerability, that you find yourself unsure of how to act. 

Would this special moment turn awkward if you were to make a comment on his looks? You wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Removing his mask must take such an effort… you don’t want to risk making this more stressful for him. You opt for keeping your comments to yourself, at least for now. 

Instead, you let your hand rest on his face, caressing his skin, softly, slowly, as if it’s the most fragile thing in the world and you have to handle it with utmost care. You hope that by doing this you can show him and reassure him that everything is ok, nothing has changed, surely not for the worse. That you deeply appreciate the fact that he decided to let his guards down, to be vulnerable with you. That’s what you try to convey with your adoring gaze and your tender touch, and you sincerely hope it reaches him.

When you feel him lean into your touch, a content smile spreads on your face and you instinctively tilt your head up, capturing his damp lips in a passionate kiss that instantly rekindles the desire inside of you. Simon matches your eagerness, hands travelling down your body to caress, grab, squeeze, grope and tease anything he finds on his path. You do the same, mapping his muscular torso, skimming your fingers down to his navel. 

For a moment, only a moment, you hesitate to go lower as you get caught up in your head, worries threatening to hold you back again, but the way he interrupts the contact of your lips to place a trail of sloppy kisses down the sensitive skin of your neck makes your worries fade again and you slip your hand inside his unzipped jeans. You relish in hearing the guttural sound that rewards your action; it compels you to rub your hand over his boxers with more confidence, feeling his bulge with a light squeeze.

Simon hastily brings his hand to his waistband and tugs it down, his boxers receive the same treatment. Your hand now closes around his erection, giving it a few tentative strokes. He draws a sharp breath.

“ Bloody hell , princess…”

He mutters in the crook of your neck and you shiver. His reaction encourages you to increase the vigour of your movements.

“Is this ok?”

He hums softly, hips starting to buck in sync with your hand. He lets you fondle him, drag your fingers on the tip wet with precum, make him moan in pleasure as your hold around his girth tightens… then he pulls away, grabs your hand and brings it to his lips for a soft peck on its back.

You follow his movements, eyes drawn to his lips then flickering down to his cock. By the touch you assumed it was pretty big and the sight only confirms your thoughts but it shocks you anyway.

You hear him huff a laugh through his nose.

“Do you think you can take me, mh?”

Your eyes dart back to his face, meeting his amused look.

“I don’t know…”, you bite your lips, the angles of your mouth curling up in a playful smirk, “but I sure as hell ain’t gonna back down from a challenge.”

Your heart soars with joy seeing his face crack into a pleasantly surprised expression, a chuckle coming out of his mouth.

“Good girl.”

He pins you with his mesmerising gaze, bending down on you again. He leans on the side, toward the bedside table. You crane your neck to watch. His hand slips into a black smoking-bowl and comes back with a small metallic sachet. Protection. Of course. This place is well-equipped. Your curious eyes keep following his movements as he takes the condom and secures it onto his throbbing erection. You swallow as his gaze moves back on your face, your stomach starts churning again. He seems to sense your nervousness and leans down, hand grabbing your jaw, eyes piercing right into yours.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll be gentle.”

You nod with a smile, then take a deep breath.

“It’s okay. I trust you, Si.”

He leans in for a quick soft kiss, hand guiding his erection between your legs, tip rubbing against your slit to coat it in your wetness. Your whole body tingles in anticipation. 

“Stop me anytime if you need to.”

He waits for your confirmation before he slides in, bit by bit, easing you to the intrusion. An instant groan comes out of his mouth.

“Oh, you’re so fucking tight!”

Your brows furrow, your jaw sets, soft cries come out of you as he settles inside your walls but you don’t stop him. He kisses your neck, right on the spot he learned that makes you quiver the most, your hands clutched at his sides. It doesn’t take long for the nagging feeling to fade and for you to get accustomed to the sensation as your core stretches to welcome him fully.

Simon feels your body relax and starts to push into you, slowly, carefully, letting out pleased grunts of his own. His hands wrap around the back of your thighs and lift them up to his waist. You latch your legs around his body, a maneuver that allows him to bury his cock deeper inside you and that causes a loud moan to erupt from you.

“G-God… That’s…”

His lips trail back from your neck to your jaw, teasingly brushing your skin, until they hover on your open mouth; his eyes take in your contorting features with a pleased smile. 

He rocks at a steady pace against you while his hands roam your body, travel up your hips, caress your breasts, skim along the shape of your arms, stopping only to let his fingers interlace with yours, and pin your hands down to the mattress, at either side of your head.

You feel your lucidity slip from you completely. No coherent words come out of you, only a nonsensical mumbling. The way he’s thrusting inside of you, so deep and precise, hitting that perfect spot at each push, it takes every fiber in your being not to scream out loud and make the whole pub know how Simon’s fucking you sensless. 

You can only focus on how you’re connected to him, how he is filling you up so beautifully, how your bodies move wonderfully together; it’s almost like a dance, a primal animalistic dance that belongs to you two only. You even have the music to accompany your dance moves, a soft sensual melody that perfectly complements your passion-imbued union of trembling bodies.

So this is how it feels to have sex? This is how it feels to be wholly consumed by lust and desire? Or could this overwhelming sensation simply be Simon’s doing? To have him make love to you?

“Y/n…”

It takes a lot of effort for you to hum back in response.

Simon’s lips crush clumsily against yours as his movements become frantic and sloppier. He must be close to reaching the high. And so are you. Your eyelids are heavy, your sight slightly blurred and unfocused.

“Si, I think I’m about to-”

He pulls away from your lips, spine straightening, piercing eyes landing on your face as one of his hands slips from yours and travels along your body, down toward your core. He deliberately rubs your slit with his palm before he picks up a hectic waving motion to stroke your swollen nub, immediately triggering a shock wave of shivers to spiral up your back. Your head spins at the additional stimuli. Your eyes squeeze shut, cries fall out of your mouth as you contort in pleasure.

You feel his other hand grab your jaw and shake it lightly, demanding your attention.

“Eyes on me, beautiful.”

You look up at him with glazed eyes, dizzy and yearning for your release. With every stroke and every thrust you lose yourself more and more into the bliss.

His hand settles on your neck, closing around your throat, not hard enough to delay your breathing but providing you with such a thrilling and wicked pressure that makes you salivate and that instantly sends heat flaring in your belly, causing your need to build faster and even more intense.

Panting hard, your hands now free, you grip onto Simon’s strong arms while you progressively lose focus on every way he’s indulging your desire, instead centring your heightened senses on the feelings he’s awakening. The last thread of restraint then finally snaps and you reach the peak, core lightening with an answering flame that you’ve never felt before. You lose yourself in the waves of pleasure overtaking you, barely taking notice of Simon’s rutting inside you once, twice, three more times before his body goes still against you and a deep groan erupts from him. Both of you anchor the other’s body, pressing together, relishing in the other’s shudders and panting breaths. You’re so flush against him that you can feel his heart, challenging your own in a speed race and then gradually slowing down.

Chest heaving, you cradle the back of his head, letting your fingers thread between the roots of his hair, while he blows his hot breath on the crook of your neck as you both ease down from your highs. The warmth of his body is comforting against yours, you never want him to let go. The rousing feeling of his cock still buried inside you, resting between your fluttering walls is one you could easily get used to. It almost takes your breath away when Simon slides out of you, leaving you bare.

His damp lips press against your boiling skin, trailing up your jaw. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, committing this idyllic moment to memory. 

His thumb gently strokes your chin, fingers resting upon your cheek. When you open your eyes, he's already looking at you with the loveliest smile you've ever seen graze his face. You return it with one of your own.

"Si..." you pause, staring deep into his eyes. There's so much you want to say, a multitude of emotions running wild and untamed inside of you that needs to be addressed and yet you struggle to find the right words to tell him how you feel.

The realisation of what has just happened downs on you. You've spent years fantasising about this moment, fearing the real thing wouldn't even come close to your idealised perfect first time. Wondering when, where, with whom you would live through this experience. You're euphoric to admit to yourself that the real thing has surpassed the fantasy by a landslide. 

"I'm... glad it was you."

It sounds silly when you say it. You could have chosen from a billion other thoughts you had swirling in your head, yet this one drowned out the rest. But as silly as it may sound, it’s the truth: you’re beyond thrilled he was your first. There’s no other man in your life that you trust, respect, and love as much as him with whom you could share such intimacy. 

You see the angle of his lips curl up to one side, the pad of his thumb softly brushing the outline of your bottom lip. 

" I'm glad it was me ."

Your face cracks as you erupt in a giggle. With your palm against his cheek, you gently push him away. "Simon..."

He smiles down at you, his eyes crinkling as he leans down again to kiss the crown of your head before drawing all the way back and getting off the bed. 

Your gaze follows him as he tosses the used condom into the trash can and pulls up his underwear and jeans. As he picks up the rest of his clothes from the floor and gets dressed again, your devoted gaze glides up and down his body, a permanent smile engraved to your lips. You feel so lucky to be able to witness such a sight… You still have a hard time believing your eyes.

“Now, who’s enjoying the show ?”

His amused glance meets yours, and you give him a sheepish smile, followed by a shrug.

"I'm just taking it all in..."

"Oh, you've already taken it all in , princess."

You let out a shocked scoff, your mouth wide open. You dismissively wave your hand in front of your face and shake your head, as you feel a crawl of heat flooding to your cheeks. 

"Oh, shut up..."

You love his sense of humour. It’s one of the qualities you like the most about him. And now that you’re… well, even closer to him, the sarcasm is only bound to get more pungent. Not that you’d complain about it.

His low chuckle fills your ears as you distract yourself by adjusting your bra and dress, then taking a seat on the side of the bed to slip your boots back on. You notice a heap of black and white fabric on the floor at your feet and bend down to pick it up. It's his balaclava.

The thought doesn’t even have time to fully form in your mind that you’re already pulling the mask over your head. Unfortunately there’s no mirror in the room to check your reflection, to see how the skull fits you but the cloth feels surprisingly nice against your skin and… you can smell his scent.

The sudden lack of rustling from behind you causes you to spin around and you find Simon staring at you, holding your jacket. He walks toward you, handing you the garment, reaching then for your face to adjust the fabric on your nose and on your chin. He stops to give you an appraising look.

"It looks better on me."

You chuckle, smacking him playfully on the chest. “Oh, c’mon… what if I want to wear one, too?”

"And hide your beautiful face? Negative.”

“Well, then…”, you pin him with a challenging look, palms pressing hard against your cheeks, securing the mask on your head. “I won’t let you hide your beautiful face, either.”

You see him softly shake his head as he huffs a chuckle through his nose. After a moment, he reaches for his back pocket and retrieves your undies, waving them high above your head. 

“What? You’ll put those on your head instead?”

You try to suppress the laugh by biting on your lips but it erupts out of you anyway, like a river in flood. The pointed look he gives you only makes it worse.

“Alright, alright…”

Still snickering, you pull on the fabric and peel it off your head, holding it out to him. 

He takes the mask from you but doesn’t let go of your undies. He puts them back in his pocket as casually as he took them out.

You scoff, tilting your head to the side. "Really?" 

“I’m keeping them, as a memento.”

You stare at him, appraising his solemn expression. If he wants them then you’ll let him have them - the fabric is ruined anyway. They're not even your favourite pair, thankfully.

“First and last time you steal something from me, Si!”

“Can’t make promises, princess.” 

Your chest swells as you try to read between the lines. It's inevitable. You can't help but wonder if he means to tell you something else. Will there be a next time, or multiple next times? Does he plan on stealing something else? Like, your heart? To be honest, he's already halfway there, but he doesn't need to know that. At least not yet. 

You keep on looking into each other's eyes for a bit longer. You think you can detect the profound fondness behind his look. Your lips curl up in a shy smile.

“Ehm… I believe we kept the guys waiting long enough." you say, breaking the silence. "We should get back downstairs."

He gives you a curt nod but instead of moving away, he draws closer to you. Taking your chin between his fingers, he leans down and angles your head to brush one more kiss against your lips. The contact is strikingly gentle and it takes your breath away. It’s a kiss infused with unspoken words of devotion, promises, feelings which are too strong to be shared so early on but that are already there, growing, blossoming. Both your hearts are gardens in bloom. 

He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours for a lingering moment before taking a step back and disguising his face once again. 

The action saddens you but at the same time it fills your chest with pride; you're the only one who has been blessed to bask in the beauty of his seldom-seen bare face and no one else will receive such special treatment. Not today. Hopefully never. Is it selfish of you to wish that? Perhaps, but you don't care. Not when images of your lovemaking are still so fresh in your mind. Not when you can still feel the worshipping touch of his hands and tongue on your body. Certainly not when the cool, humid air of the room hits the wetness of your exposed core beneath the dress. 

You exchange a knowing look before moving towards the door and walking down the stairs together. That soothing tune, now linked with poignant core memories, floods in your ears once again, growing louder as you return to the main area and towards the bar. Your team is still at the counter, exactly where you left them... how long ago? You have no idea how much time has passed. You were too engrossed in your passion to pay attention to the outside world and its trivialities.

Johnny glances behind his shoulder just as you and Simon make a beeline toward the group. You can see his lips moving; he must be saying something to the others because they all crane their heads to look at you before returning to their drinks. Soap is the only one who whirls around, bivouacing on his seat and all over the counter like a fucking braggart as he meets your eyes and winks at you. 

Oh, he'll take yours and Simon's hookup as a personal victory, and he'll brag about it; you already know it. But you're far too happy right now to be bothered by it. Let him gloat. You're the one who got the reward, anyway. 

When you eventually make it to the bar, no one acknowledges your arrival. Nobody says anything about your absence or the dance prior to that. Their silence only serves to emphasise that they are all aware of what happened. The furtive glances they cast your way, some more mischievous than others, serve as plain confirmation. 

"Now that we're all here, I suppose we can head out." 

The captain's voice calls out to everyone as he stands up from the barstool. "Unless the two lovebirds fancy one last drink?" 

You try to ignore the appellation he used and the way your stomach flipped in response. You raise one hand and shake your head, avoiding his eyes as well as the urge to glance up at Simon. "I'm good."

A beat.

"Alright then. Off we go."

On cue, everyone gets off their seats, some knocking back their glasses, others stretching their legs. You take advantage of the shuffle to walk over to Johnny and hold out the key to him. He takes it back without a word but the sly smile playing on his face is hard to miss. You hope at least he has the decency to hold off of grilling you for deets until you’re back at the HQ.

You seem to catch a movement in your peripheral vision: Price giving Simon a firm pat on the shoulder? You’re tempted to turn your head to take a better look when a loud scoff interrupts you and draws your attention back to your best mate.

"Bloody hell, y/n! You and L.T. are not joking around!" 

Your brows furrow upon hearing his remark and when you follow the trajectory of his stunned look, your eyes widen as they meet the cloth of your undies poking out of his back pocket. You spring into action right away, grasping the exposed edge to yank it farther inside his jeans. Simon’s own hand reaches behind him to wrap around yours, fingers interlacing, as he maintains his focus on Price in front of him. Your chest swells at the gesture, heat rising in your cheeks,  but you manage to turn around and zap Johnny with a fierce glare anyway.

He makes a show of zipping his lips and throwing away the key. However, the grin he flashes you is so contagious that you find yourself returning one of your own.

It appears like you're in for a ride full of taunts, jokes, knowing looks and funny name-calling. Your mates will give you two no rest… but who gives a shit about it? Simon said it first. Why should you care? You'll take this and much worse if it means getting the chance to explore your feelings with the man of your dreams and spending many more nights out - or inside his spacious office - dancing together.

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#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley fic #ghost smut #Ghost fluff #simon ghost riley fluff #cod ghost #ghost cod #call of duty: modern warfare ii #call of duty #cod mwii #ghost fanfiction #simon ghost riley fanfiction #cod fanfic #my writing #fanfiction #Spotify

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Make Him Better Looking｡⋆.

Sam Winchester x plus size reader

Truth serum plus hidden feelings and a major amount of lust for your best friend is bound to end well

Warnings: truth serum, reader is hornee, implied smut, size kink, Sam is taller than the reader, explicit thoughts, mutual pining, mentions of a hunt

WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Falling in love with Sam had been easy- not only was he stupidly handsome with those big hazel puppy dog eyes and a killer body, but he was kind and he was smart. He loved with his whole soul and would do anything for anyone, even after all the shit he had been through. 

What hadn’t been easy, however, was just how horny you got every time you even thought of the giant hunter let alone be around him. If he was tracing lines in a book to keep his place, you thought about what his fingers would feel like inside of you. If he was working out, you wondered if he would make those same noises in bed. And worst of all was when he was talking animatedly about something, his entire body came alive with passion and excitement. His eyes sparkled and his smile was always huge. And yet all you could think about was having his face between your thick thighs, talking into your cunt as he feasted. 

Needless to say, you had absolutely destroyed your scant collection of toys and taken more cold showers than warm. Eventually, you had to reach your breaking point.

It had been a witch hunt in Arkansas that went slightly wrong. People all around town were suddenly compelled to tell everyone around them their darkest secrets, ruining their lives in the process. It was a pretty simple cut and dry witch who had some vendetta against liars so she was forcing everyone to tell the truth. You and Jody picked up the hunt as some kind of demented girl’s trip and it mostly went off without a hitch. At least until the witch got you with a truth spell right before the sheriff dropped her.

You had arrived back home with your mouth practically sewn shut in an attempt to keep yourself from telling the boys your innermost thoughts until the spell wore off (which Jody assured you that it would be a couple days at most). Claire and Alex already had their fun asking you questions that you could no longer lie in response to, leading to them learning why there’s a bottle of deluded bleach and air freshener in the back of the Impala and the ‘no tequila after midnight’ rule. 

Dean quickly discovered your ailment after you bluntly told him that his new orange flannel and grown out hair made him look like an oversized carrot, and he was determined to break you. But unfortunately for him, you were a hell of a lot smarter than him and could find ways to easily distract him.

You and Dean sat across from each other at the library table, eyes locked to each other as you both desperately tried not to blink. A game born out of desperation not to reveal your darkest secrets and childish rivalry but with a month’s worth of laundry on the line, the game was a matter of life or death. Your eyes burned as you struggled to keep them open but you refused to back down now, especially when Dean’s face had begun to turn red with the strain, you knew he was close to breaking.

Then, disaster struck. Right as his eyelids began to twitch with the need to blink, Sam walked into the library wearing a tight white shirt and grey sweatpants and obviously not wearing briefs. Immediately your mouth went dry as your concentration was broken. You didn’t even hear Dean cheer that he won, you just kept looking at his  brother who was now browsing the many shelves for something to read.

Dean rubbed at his eyes while glancing at his younger brother before sarcastically remarking. “Looking good Sammy.” Sam responded with a scoff, returning to his search and letting you get a glimpse of his perky backside.

The words tumbled from your lips before you could stop them, spilling out of your dirty mind like an unstoppable river. “Goddamn, how about you bring that perfect ass over here and I’ll tell you how I can make you look even better.” Everyone froze, including you, and then you opened your mouth again. “You’d look hotter with me sitting on your face.”

Silence settled over the bunker, your veins filled with dread. “Oh god please ignore that I said that- well actually, I don’t want you to ignore it. I really do want to sit on your face but right now I really want to throw myself off a cliff. So I think I’m gonna go do that. Have a nice life boys.” You went to slip from your chair but suddenly your wide hips were pinned to the edge of the table but two huge hands.

Sam loomed over you, his eyes dark with lust as he smirked down at you. “Now why would you go and do that when we could test your little theory.” Your breath caught in your throat. He dipped down, bringing his face to yours until you were close enough to feel his breath on your lips. 

“I-“ You stammered. Wetness pooled between your thighs as he stepped even closer, pressing his hardening cock to your soft body. 

“Oh what is it baby? Can’t speak anymore? Don’t worry, you won’t be able to stop making sounds when my mouth is on your cunt.” He growled into your ear.

Neither you nor Sam noticed when Dean sprung to his feet and ran off into the depths of the bunker to escape the very obvious tension on the brink of exploding between you. Your fingers tentatively curled into his shirt, making his smile grow. “That’s a good girl, now how about you go to my room and get undressed. I wanna see if you get even more beautiful when you’re on top of me.” 

——————

Sam had always found you incredibly intoxicating but even more so now. You were dead asleep on his chest, your breaths even as you slumbered on. Sam took pride in your exhaustion considering he was the cause. He gently stroked the soft skin of your hip, tracing over the texture of your stretch marks delicately as to not wake you. 

You sighed in your sleep, nuzzling closer to his bare chest. He kissed the top of your head and with a great amount of care, slipped from your hold. You stirred only for a moment before settling once more. He dressed quietly and slipped out of his room.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted from the kitchen drawing him in like a siren. “Morning.” He muttered as he wandered in, shooting his brother a glance. Dean nodded at him from his place at the small table, drinking his coffee silently.

As Sam poured two mugs of the bitter drink, he spoke again. “She was right, you know.” Dean hummed and looked up at him curiously. “I do look better when she sits on my face.”

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[nghtwngs]

silly human traditions

description: you’ve never had a new year’s kiss before. neither has the doctor. you decide to change that tonight.

pairing: tenth doctor x reader (you can probably read it as eleven too!)

genre: fluff, friends to lovers, mutual pining

word count: 1.2k

warnings: alcohol consumption (by the doctor), ten might be ooc bc im literally rewatching eleven’s episodes (im on the second christmas special rn!) and i think ive lost his voice but i hope that’s not the case

a/n: happy new year!! i wrote this up like real fast bc i was thinking about kissing ten and well… yeah

You walk into the TARDIS’s control room with a huge grin plastered on your face. “Doctor, we have to celebrate our first New Year!”

The Doctor looks up from the control console and turns his head to face you. “New Year?” His eyebrows are furrowed, lips curled down into a frown. “There’s no concept of time in the time vortex—how would we celebrate New Year’s?”

“Well, my phone’s calendar doesn’t change.” You pull out your device, opening the calendar app and holding it up for him to see. “It’s currently December 31st. And also we celebrated the holidays this past week.”

He pulls out his glasses out of his suit and puts them on. He squints at your screen anyway. “Well, I guess so. How’d you figure we do that?” He jumps up, running over to you. “What about a planet where everything is made of water? Or we could watch a galaxy of stars fizzle out into nothing but dust!”

“Well, Doctor, I was thinking we could just, I don’t know… spend it on Earth? Watch the ball drop in Time Square or something? Hm, actually maybe not that.”

“You little humans and all your traditions.”

“You love it.”

He mirrors your cheeky grin. “Alright, then! I think I have just the place.” He rushes over to the console, doing his thing. The TARDIS makes her signature wheezing noise, reminding you to hold on tight. “New York! Present year… well, for you anyway. Two hours ‘til midnight. Dress well. We have a party to crash!”

You make a sound of excitement, giving the Doctor a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Amazing.” You run off to the TARDIS’s vast wardrobe to find an appropriate outfit.

After finishing getting ready, you pop back into the control room to find the Doctor fiddling with his tie. He’s dressed in a black suit. A classic. You think it suits him well. (Pun not intended.)

“No bow tie this time?” you ask, walking over to him.

He just shakes his head. “Nah.”

“You clean up nicely,” you say, tightening his tie for him.

He smiles so softly at you that it makes your heart ache with need. “You do too.”

You clear your throat when the intensity of his gaze hits you. “Well, we better get to the party. Don’t wanna miss anything else.” You link your arms, dragging him out of the TARDIS.

Turns out, the party he took you to crash is filled with a bunch of celebrities. No one either of you care for, but celebrities nonetheless. It makes you feel important to be around all these people. Like you’re important enough to be around the Doctor, who you’d say is the most famous of them all. It makes you feel special. Being here. With him, but maybe not with him.

He doesn’t even bother to correct anyone when they mistake you for being an item. You often wonder if there is any deeper meaning behind that. It makes your heart stumble off beat. But that’s silly. A ridiculous, quite pathetic notion.

Silly human things, you suppose.

But it’s okay. He makes you feel special. Anyone the Doctor chooses to be his companion is special.

The very best of humanity, he’d say.

The Doctor has a sip of some random alcoholic drink you were both offered (you declined) and sticks his tongue out in disgust. He immediately places the glass back onto the tray. “That was dreadful. Absolutely dreadful.”

You can’t stop yourself from giggling until he grabs your water and chugs the entire thing. You grumble, “I was about to drink that.” But your words come out much too soft, too fondly for him to believe you’re really upset over it.

He leads you out onto the balcony with his hand on your back. You forget all about your drink.

“Oh my, God!” You double over, holding onto the Doctor’s arm. “They were sentient? How can grass be sentient?” You both continue to wheeze like it’s the funniest thing the two of you ever heard.

“Yeah, they were quite rude honestly. Telepathic. Said my hair looks ridiculous,” he muses. His voice suddenly goes quiet. He leans into you, staring into your eyes like it’d make you any more honest. “Does my hair look ridiculous?”

You run your fingers through his locks, making sure not to mess them up. “Your hair looks great. I always like it.”

“Yeah? You think so?”

You nod in agreement.

Cheers erupt from inside, and you’re worried you missed the countdown. But there’s still another five minutes left.

“Do you have any resolutions for the New Year, Doctor?”

“Resolutions? Why would I need resolutions? Is that some human tradition? Why do you have so many traditions?”

“People just want to have goals, I guess? I never really stuck with mine. And well, it’s really just that and uh… the New Year’s kiss.”

“New Year’s kiss?” He frowns.

“Yeah, they say if you kiss someone at midnight on New Year’s, it’ll strengthen the bond between you? I don’t know. It’s silly. I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss before, so I couldn’t tell you if it’s true or not.”

“Huh.” There’s his thinking face. Nothing good ever comes from his thinking face. Not unless you’re in a life or death situation, and you don’t think you are right now. At least you really hope not. “Do you… Would you like to test that theory out?”

You almost choke. “What?”

“Well, I mean, it’s not like we have to or anything.”

“I didn’t peg you as the superstitious type.”

“I’m not. But no harm in trying it out, right?”

No, there’s a lot of harm in trying it out, you want to say. You think your heart might explode out of your chest. That would be a horrible way to start out the new year. He’d have to find another companion whose heart stays in their chest cavity and away from both of his.

“Yeah, no harm at all.”

Why can’t your mouth just stay shut sometimes?

You hear the countdown start.

Ten.

He holds your chin between his index finger and thumb.

Nine.

His warm eyes look into yours.

Eight.

You’ve never been touched with such gentleness before.

Seven.

His scent is so clean and warm and so him.

Six.

The proximity is completely dizzying.

Five.

You think you can feel your knees buckle.

Four.

How can he look at you as if you’re the only interesting thing in the universe?

Three.

When he’s seen it all.

Two.

A quick glance at your lips.

One.

The Doctor presses his lips against yours. It’s wonderful. He tastes like berries. When in the world did he have berries? Your arms slink around him, pulling him as close as possible. He doesn’t seem to mind. He cups your face with his hands. What a brain melting kiss. The strings of his hearts are knotting with yours. You want to be consumed by this feeling.

It doesn’t register that you have to breathe for a minute, but you think you’d kiss him forever if you could. You have all the time in the world anyway. You wonder how long can Time Lords go without air. Probably much longer than humans, yeah? You, with much reluctance, pull away.

He pecks your lips again. He grins cheekily at you. “A while.”

You scoff. You hate it when he does that. And when he smiles at you like that. Your neck grows hot even though it’s cool outside. “It’s midnight.” You’re still breathless.

“It is.”

“You’re my first New Year’s kiss.”

“You’re mine.”

Maybe it’s true; the bond between you does feel stronger this year. You kiss him again and then some more.

#tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor imagine #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor imagine #eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh doctor imagine #11th doctor x reader #11th doctor imagine #doctor who x reader

[1960z]

it’s interesting to me how the politics of writing romance (in general I suppose but rn I’m specifically talking about sci-fi/genre fiction) can often get in the way of writing good romance

I saw this post a couple days ago talking about why k/s as a romance feels more satisfying to a lot of people than a lot of the actual queer rep on star trek — how because they weren’t written with romance in mind, they were allowed to develop a dynamic of genuine camaraderie, mutual respect and chemistry.

and the thing is, I don’t even think this is unique to how queer relationships are written, or at the very least there is a non-queer version.

like I have a huge soft spot for kira/odo, but you can obviously tell when the writers decided to start explicitly writing for them as a romantic couple rather than simply two people who had chemistry together. and the moment they were being written as a romantic couple they were immediately forced into this very cishet model of what relationships are supposed to look like. there are some good moments I feel (pining!odo will always be a highlight for me) but that in itself— the fact they chose to focus so heavily on odo’s perspective is very telling.

the arc leading up to the two being canonically a couple is very focused on odo needing to “win” kira, with kira becoming an object of desire in odo’s arc rather than another fully rounded character with agency in the romance. which is very jarring because 1) again, before the romance arc was set in stone their dynamic was not written this way and 2) outside of this plot, kira is very well rounded and has a shit ton of agency.

it also doesn’t help that there is a lot of room for queerness to be explored within their relationship and especially odo’s character when it comes to gender, an opportunity which they just never take, not explicitly anyway. and having such fertile ground to explore those themes and then simply not and in fact doing the opposite, forcing them into a dynamic the characters are ill-fitted to, missing the point of their core appeal as a couple in the first place it’s… frustrating.

and I just wonder how many great dynamics and storylines we miss out on due to this heteronormative view of romance and what different types of relationships are “supposed” to look like.

#shut up abe #spirk #tos #kiraodo #ds9 #star trek #I think about kiraodo and their canon portrayal a LOT #I love them they deserved better #which isn’t to say there’s *nothing* to like about them in canon if there was I doubt I’d ship them in the first place #but i think their story very much was hindered by this stuff #(his way my beloathed)

[crimsonji]

୨୧ Unspoken Feelings of a Matra

“ a certain someone has caught the eye of general cyno without even trying… “

ft. cyno x gn!reader

cw: fluff, mutual pining, cyno is sickly in love w you (same energy as a schoolgirl crush), wingman tighnari!!!!!!, bullet point notes, wrote this while brainrotting, not proofread

>> 🍁 kazuha's musings : ty to @seveninchesfrominsanity for brainrotting with me about this… cyno is such a dork ugh I love him he’s great. also I hope it’s alr I included the concept that Collei has a bunch of romance novels!!! It’s such a funny and cute idea it was hard not to mention it somehow. I always seem to be spilling paragraphs when it’s about Cyno

Cyno vividly remembers the first day he met you, which was when he had to confront you about the recent case of a group of Akademiya students smuggling canned knowledge and illegally selling them to certain classmates of yours. Right away he knew something was… Off about you, different. Back then he couldn’t put his finger on it, already too focused on the issue at hand to delve into the reasoning behind the way his mind felt more at ease simply by your presence.

You looked fairly unfazed when Cyno walked over to you with the same stoic look on his face, carrying that intense aura around him wherever he went. All you greeted him was a polite smile that he could tell wasn’t forced, not one bit. Your overall presence and conversation that somehow slowly turned more relaxed thanks to you put Cyno at ease—even if it was only slightly.

When you became acquainted, Cyno would have just called you ordinary. An ordinary Akademiya student who hadn’t even heard about knowledge capsules being spread around until Cyno had inquired you about it—him being fairly surprised when you insisted to Celestia and back with helping him with investigating; as you were quite agitated by students who seemed to take their time at the almighty Akademiya for granted. Now, he wouldn’t say it out loud but there would be much, much more he’d have to say about you…

He shouldn’t dwell too much on the details, though. In the end, you ended up helping him out and getting your hands on leads that he probably wouldn’t have been able to obtain if this was a one-man operation. From that day forward, you’d be happy to call the matra one of your friends and he would as well. Surprisingly Cyno had found himself running into you quite often; at some point he would’ve just thought wherever he was you probably weren’t too far off.

One day, Cyno decided he should test one of his latest jokes on you—one that had been brewing in his mind for at least a week or so. He normally told jokes as to “lighten the mood”, but you already seemed to act natural around him. It’s alright, he might as well take this opportunity to stop pestering Tighnari with his latest material and, if he was lucky enough, to strengthen your bond at the same time.

Once he had told the joke, the last thing he was expecting was watching your face break out into a huge smile and hearing you softly giggle at him… Huh, he wasn’t anticipating this to happen. You must be easily amused or maybe his jokes have gotten better! He’ll be sure to relay this information to Tighnari soon.

Tighnari couldn’t contain the slight irk on his face once Cyno told him that a poor soul out there was subjected to one of Cyno’s jokes and actually found them funny. And he couldn’t help but notice the upbeat of Cyno’s mood or the barely visible smile on his face when he was talking about you… 

Cyno developed a habit of telling his jokes more often around you—telling himself that as your friend, a part of his duty is to make your day better with his corny jokes. But maybe, just maybe, deep down there was another reason to this. Like the way your eyes squinted and creased at the sides, a faint dimple or two that showed on your muscles whenever you smiled; or was it that wonderfully soft laugh that rang in Cyno’s eardrums?

He wanted to keep hearing you laugh, to see you smile because of him. Yes, it’s perfectly normal for someone to want to see their friend happy. Not only that, but this foreign feeling had begun to form and flutter around Cyno’s chest; a strangely light and airy sensation that at times clouded his sharp mind. Was it normal to be feeling like this? He had never felt this way when he first met you, so why was it growing stronger by each interaction he had with you…

Moreover, why did Cyno want to chase this feeling? Was he sick, maybe? Or something had happened in the past weeks he had befriended you that slipped past him? Now, just thinking about you made his stomach fill with butterflies and chest tighten in such an uncomfortable and wonderfully weird way.

“…Are you stupid?”

“Pardon?”

Cyno stared at Tighnari blankly as he stared back, face written in obvious annoyance and deadpan. Cyno had taken a quick visit to Gandharva Ville and looked for Tighnari to discuss his… dilemma with you. Once Cyno had relayed your past encounters and his ‘symptoms’, that was when he was gifted with a painfully unamused look from his close friend.

Tighnari looked conflicted almost, trying to think of what to say in a way where Cyno still understood his point; letting out an exasperated sigh. “Listen, I’m not expert in this, but… I think you just have a crush on them.” he guessed just being plainly honest was the best method instead of sugercoating it.

Unfortunately for Tighnari, Cyno just happened to be as dumb as a rock when it came to relationships. Cyno shot him a cold glare, face slightly reddening at Tighnari’s words. Oh boy, he’s still in the denial stage.

He quirked an eyebrow, “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, everything you said seems to check out my hypothesis.” Tighnari casually stated, absentmindedly pulling out a notebook and jotting down some notes for a reason unknown to Cyno.

When he looked back up at him, he just looked… confused. Still totally lost while he was desperately trying to connect the pieces to no success in his brain. If he kept this up any longer, Tighnari’s brain would probably melt from how dense he was being.

“How would you feel if they went on a date with another guy?” Tighnari blurred out and flipped his notebook shut; carefully watching Cyno’s reaction as his eyes widened at the strangely sudden question.

He may be well versed in keeping a neutral face, but Cyno couldn’t contain the grimace when he further pondered on the hypothetical scenario; remembering the numerous times he’s heard your laughter only this time, it’s because of another person.

“…Tch.”

“See~?” Tighnari was halfway-amused by Cyno’s strong reaction to this idea, “Might as well admit it now instead of letting yourself suffer in denial—Master Tighnari’s always right, as they say…”

At this point, Tighnari and Collei had met you a couple of times; just enough to get familiar with what you were like. It was suffering for Tighnari to watch Cyno blush and get tongue-tied just from you looking at him or seeing Cyno stand there like a lovesick buffoon; staring at you from afar after parting ways.

Collei had listened to a few muttering complaints about Cyno’s dense attitude from Tighnari a couple of times; but she was mostly too embarrassed to try and give her own input on Cyno’s situation. The only kind of intense love she felt for someone was familial and for Amber, and Collei always thought she was too young to be thinking about things like dating…

However, she did have a varied collection of romance light novels stored away in a bin in her bedroom. This genre wasn’t something she would’ve chosen herself, but Amber seems to keep sending them for whatever reason… But, maybe these books could prove some use to Cyno! It wasn’t much, but it felt like it was the least she could do after Cyno helped her through such difficult times in the past…

She’s way too flustered to try and give these to Cyno in person, so she wraps them in paper and asks Tighnari to give them to Cyno next time he visits. Tighnari had tried asking what exactly she was giving him, but decided it wasn’t anything to worry about and gave the package to Cyno without a word.

Fair to say he was really surprised by the contents of the package, carefully reading the note Collei had written.

“I’m not exactly sure what your relationship is with (Name), but both Master Tighnari know you seem to really care about them! Amber kept giving me these books when sending letters, and I think they’d be useful for you right about now. P.S. Please don’t tell Master Tighnari I gave you these! He’d probably confiscate them if he knew… -Collei”

Cyno’s conversation with Tighnari had stuck with him for a while, he needed some time to sit on it. Sure, he liked you, but romantically? Romance was something that never interested him once, but if the context is related to you somehow, then…

He needed to confirm this possibility for himself. Next time he’d meet you, he’ll take note of how he was feeling before he saw you and after; call it a little experiment of his. Only thing is, the simple thought of running into you made Cyno more excited than it’s worth.

Poor guy just really needs a wake up call. It takes a long while for Cyno to finally stop lying to himself and say “Yes, I like them.” once he did accept this, he was still trying to wrap his brain around the concept of love. Tighnari was so relieved that the constant gnawing feeling could finally stop once his friend came to terms with his romantic attraction for you, but that would only be the beginning to a long, never-ending journey…

Now with Cyno’s acceptance arc out of the way, he decides it’s time to find a way to try and convey how he feels in a very discreet way (keyword; discreet) He had taken a few notes on the romantic novels Collei had gifted him, deducing that people favour grand romantic gestures and dates at places that ‘set the mood’, per say.

Tighnari had been convinced to help Cyno in his mission to impress you multiple times. He could have easily said no, but maybe a part of him did want to see his friend happy with someone he clearly cared a lot about.

Cyno always said went to Tighnari to discuss new ideas to win your affection; and one time he told Cyno that you probably liked people who made you laugh, and that he already had some form of advantage(?) in this category.

As soon as he said that, the pit of dread formed in his stomach once he saw the scarily excited and determined look on Cyno’s face. Now he had a new reasoning behind his jokes: one, to ‘lighten’ the mood and two, to see you happy.

“(Name).” You perked your head up from the book you were reading to look at Cyno, who was going through a set of Genius Invokation cards to match with the newest ‘meta’.

When you returned his gaze with a curious look, Cyno could feel his cheeks burn; but he kept his face apathetic, “I’d like to tell a joke.” he said.

“Sure!” You chirped back, closing the book shut and turning all your attention to your friend.

He coughs, “Why do we tell actors to ‘break a leg’?”

“I don’t know?”

“…To get into the ‘cast’.”

… Was it not funny? Cyno frowned, he was sure that’d make you laugh, maybe if he were to explain it then—

“Hehe… Ahaha…!” you cut off his thoughts when he heard you laugh, a sweetly airy and genuine giggle that matched perfectly with the adorable smile on your face. You were cute, he thought, eyes softening at your reaction only to find himself with a question that would forever be left unanswered.

Whenever he tried to make you fall for him, why would he only fall harder?

Tighnari ended up finding himself perched up in a tree while tinkering with a pair of binoculars; spying over you and Cyno’s afternoon “date”. (Collei had caught him up in a tree or two on a number of occasions, but she had managed to put the pieces together on what he was doing and to not interfere despite how curious she was…)

I don’t think it could even be called a date, it was more like a casual hangout between two people but one of them had happen to be sickly smitten over their friend. It had taken an embarrassing amount of courage for Cyno to ask you out to lunch, Tighnari quietly hyping him up and sending a weak thumbs up before watching him go and talk to you.

It had been going well so far, Tighnari ignoring the way Cyno sometimes tripped up on his words or looked like he was desperately trying to hold it together; but well enough that the two of you were having a good time. He zoomed further in, amplifying the focus as he watched you two casually talk and walk along the path leading to Sumeru City.

The reason why Cyno had asked Tighnari to watch was to take notes on his ‘performance’. He already scribbled a few lines onto the paper; such as ‘body too stiff’ and ‘speak louder you lummox!!!!!’ The mostly uneventful event continued as expected, Tighnari having to awkwardly shuffle into a corner of the restaurant you ate lunch at without getting noticed by you. He was mostly waiting on Cyno to do something he had planned before the designated time of your date, which was to give you a Sumeru rose and proclaim a brief and romantic speech before you left.

When that moment did come, the words only got caught in Cyno’s throat when you innocently turned to look at him after grabbing your attention. Was is always this difficult to speak? Or was it just your glowing radiance that made the matra quite literally stunned. He awkwardly crumpled the small sheet of paper stuffed into the fist of his hand, eyes turned down to the grassy fields supporting his feet before pulling a Sumeru rose from behind his back.

Cyno saw your eyes widen slightly in his peripheral vision, before a smile spread across your face with no restraint.

“…I had fun today, and I heard people give each other gifts to show their appreciation. So this is for you.” he quietly choked out, hand extended outwards to you and praying you didn’t see the slight quiver in his fingertips and palms sweating.

“Pff— Ahahahah…! I may or may not have gotten a rose for you, too…” you sheepishly reached behind you to reveal a freshly picked red rose in your grasp, its petals still in full bloom and painted in a beautiful red like wine.

When did you get that? He was sure he would’ve noticed it… Also, was he dreaming right now? He honestly felt like he may of passed out right then are there, but he quietly plucked the flower from your hands as you did the same. Cyno stared at it contemplated, staring at the individual petals before looking back at you with disbelief.

“But, why…?”

You cocked your head to the side confused, “Why? I think we both know the answer, wouldn’t you agree?” you smiled knowingly at the white haired man in front of you, grinning at his cutely dumbfounded expression.

“Your friend Tighnari knows a lot about plants, so I’m sure he knows the meaning of certain flowers…” your words trailed off and eyes wandered to the rose in Cyno’s hand, Cyno missing the red tint on your cheeks as you turned away.

“I should get going now.”

“Do you want me to accompany you?”

“Oh, no need. The sun’s just start setting, I’ll be okay. Be safe on your way home, Cyno!” you waved happily goodbye, quickly setting off on your way while Cyno stood there—slowly watching your form walk towards the horizon until he couldn’t see you anymore.

He looked down at the red rose, the meaning behind them…

“All roses tend to flourish best in full sunlight.” Tighnari approached Cyno slowly from behind, stretching his arms and turning to look at him with a somewhat smug smile tugging at his lips “They grow in moist, well-drained soil in warm environments. And as for the meaning…

The red variety symbolize passion and love. Some think the deeper the shade represents how committed you are to someone; but it depends on the person. I suppose. What do you think, Cyno?”

Really, he couldn’t be more happier.

#[🍁] kazuha's haiku collection #cyno x reader #cyno x you #cyno x y/n #cyno fluff #cyno smut #cyno fanfic #cyno #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfic #tighnari

[everythingne]

hey yall :D!

i've just moved back into my dorm for classes today but i don't start any actual work for a while. im gonna be a bit slower now with work and such but I wanted to let y'all know of some upcoming fics to expect :)! please let me know if any specific ones interest you as i am in a bit of a slump and any encouragement seriously helps <3

-

growing pains - dr3

(3+1) three times the girls pain makes you and daniel realize they're not always going to be your little ones. (a first period, a first breakup, and moving out) and one time, the girls come back to show all the lessons you've taught them, and that no matter their age they'll always be your little girls.

mrs mclaren - ln4

the winner of the mini series vote for my 300 follower special was lando, friends to lovers/mutual pining, angst/whatever. so born from that is y/n mclaren, the granddaughter of bruce mclaren, who may just have a huge crush on her driver and somehow literally everyone but lando knows.

wasted summers - op81

to try and solve your huge two decades old crush on your childhood best friend, you attempt to capture his love over the short summer break, with the help of F1 twitter and other racers. it goes about how you would expect.

gripped - ln4

Roxanne Powell's quick thinking on a film set saves Lando from serious injury, the moment making an unlikely connection between one of the top Formula One drivers who takes all the fame and glory for his team, and a girl whose work is hardly credited to herself. it takes seeing the other side to open your eyes.

more below (max n logan)

the one with the wedding - mv1

max grapples with the fact he's getting married on his wedding day. slightly inspired by friends and real weddings i've attended. luckily charles and daniel are there to ease his fears, and you end up having a picture perfect monaco wedding.

akin to a pride verse - 'i truly am my fathers child' - mv1

when brought to tears by ruthless bullying by reporters, reina snaps and hits a reporter out of fear, but the media claims its anger. with no other option, hana flies max to london help her daughter out of a depressive episode caused by reina realizing she's more like her father than she ever wants to be. its a conversation that makes max think back on his actions too.

drunk walk home verse - 'stalkers tango' - mv1

isaiah doesn't go away, not after max nearly shatters his nose. late night phone calls, text messages, and dms lead to a break in that terrifies you and the f1 world. luckily, you're away for the break in, but its not safe for you to return alone. don't worry though, max enlists the help of a few drivers to move all your stuff to his while you 'hunt for apartments.'

wing damage ch 2 - mv1

nadine struggles to accept the fact that she's single and alone in her now too big yet claustrophobic apartment. luckily for her, max is only a phone call away. and a few too many drinks lead to what is probably the stupidest decision for two newly single people who are hurting in their own rights.

meet cute, stay cute - ls2

logan keeps having meet-cutes with you throughout london, noticing the same thing each time, a book tucked under your arm. when you move in next door, he capitalizes on the opportunity to make this meet cute permanent by buying you romance books he's recommended by friends and twitter as a means of flirting.

out of the woods ch3 - ls2

dhanishka struggles to accept the fact that even her best performances can be deemed unfit, and the actions of herself when shes drunk. logan struggles to accept he may have cut things off early. charles needs more wine to deal with this.

go fins! - ls2

logan is only following one miami dolphins cheerleader, you. and you don't think its a big deal until he comes to visit to get an honorary helmet for the miami gp, and they have you give it to him. the clips circle for weeks, begging to know if you're dating the driver, and sometimes its more fun to make a rumor be true than to shut it down.

#f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 x reader #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant x y/n #logan sargeant x you #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris au #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen one shot

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Here With Me - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

hi!!! i wanted to request an ethan x fem!reader fic with some fluffy smut.

I was thinking along the lines of the friends to lovers trope: just a lot of mutual pining and sexual tension that’s built up over the friendship, which all comes to a climax (get it? 😅) when they break the tension and finally sleep together and admit feelings.

Please and thank you!!!! 😊

I didn't know my anon requests weren't on, they are now:)

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: A rainy day leads you confessions with your best friend.

You and Ethan have been friends for years. He’s always there for you, you’re always there for him. You have movie nights on a weekly basis, if not multiple times a week. You’ve spent so much time with him lately that you don’t really have any time left to find someone to have a romantic relationship with. Sometimes you miss sex, sometimes you miss waking up next to someone, but that bond you have with Ethan, and the time you get to spend with him, overpowers any of your other wants. You’d been hoping that Ethan could be your best friend and boyfriend in one, but you haven’t had the courage to make a move. You two flirt with each other all the time, but you couldn’t shake the thought that he only did it because he had no one else, while you did it because you were head-over-heels in love with him.  

It started to rain as Ethan walked you back to your apartment. It felt amazing on the hot summer day, and you both didn’t care that you were getting soaked. You both laughed at each other’s appearance; his hair slightly less fluffy, and your mascara running down your face. As the rain got heavier, you decided to try to wait it out under a huge oak tree.

“Maybe we should just go to my apartment, it’s closer,” he suggested, the rain showing no signs of letting up.

“I don’t want to walk in the rain, though,” you sighed.

A mischievous smirk appeared on his face, as he scooped you up in his arms, and ran with you through the rain. It was only a block to his apartment, but it seemed like those gym sessions with Chad were starting to pay off. That boy carried you with ease, up to the main door to his building.

“Put me down!” you laughed, as he tried to still hold you and enter the code for his door.

“No, I think this is where you need to be,” he smiled, as your eyes connected. You saw something in them that you’d seen several times before, but you’ve never been able to figure out what it means.

Once you were inside of his apartment, he gently sat you down on your feet. You gave him a light shove for causing you to get even more soaked by the rain, as he plastered a fake-hurt expression on his face.

“Do you want some clothes to change into? I can put yours in the dryer,” he said, as he walked towards his room to change out of his wet clothes.

“Yes, please,” you said, walking into him putting on a dry shirt. You caught a glimpse of his abs. Yep, the gym has been good to him.

He grabbed a pair of sweatpants for himself and you and gave you a huge T-shirt to wear.

After you both had changed, you decided to go to the living room and watch a movie. It was scary, of course, and filled with many jump scares. You jumped in his lap at one point as the villain of the movie popped on the screen, the loud sounds adding to the jump scare. Ethan looked down at you, smiling. He noticed the paths that the raindrops took your mascara on, the way your eyes got big once the music sped up as someone was being chased, the way your lips looked like they’d fit perfectly with his.

“Did you see that shit?” you yelled, after the most gore-filled scene in the whole movie played out in front of you.

“No, I missed it,” he laughed a little, glancing back at the screen.

“How did you miss that? It was crazy!” You said, eyes still glued to the screen.

He noticed that you still hadn’t moved off of his legs. He was enjoying the feeling, too scared that if he moved, you would too.

You turned your head away from the screen, another horrific death scene playing out. Ethan looked down at you, and that’s when you realized that you still had the mascara dried on your cheeks. You tried to wipe it away with your hands, a grin playing on his lips.

“Why didn’t you tell me this was still on my face? I’ve been sitting here looking stupid for the last hour,” you laughed, as he frowned at your words.

“You don’t look stupid, you look beautiful,” your heart started to race, so you tried to play it off.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure I look beautiful with these streaks all over my cheeks,” you said, but he had that same look on his face as earlier, the one you can’t figure out.

“You’re always beautiful. It doesn’t matter if your makeup is messed up. It doesn’t matter if you’re drenched in the rain. Fuck, you could walk in here wearing a trash bag and I’d still think you were the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” he said, as he started to turn red at his own words. He meant everything he said, but he didn’t know how you’d feel about it.

“Well, if you feel that way, kiss me,” you said, as his eyes darted between your eyes and your lips. He hesitated, and you started to think that he might think you’re beautiful, but that doesn’t mean he’s interested. “…or not…” you trailed off, sitting up so you were no longer on his legs.

“No, wait,” he said, pulling you back to where you were before. He leaned down, placing a kiss to your lips.

As both of your mouths moved together, he started to get hard. You could feel him through his sweatpants. Your hands roamed his body, as his roamed yours, but he pulled away. You were confused, he seemed as into this as you were.

“I need to tell you something,” he said, distracting himself from your stare with the tv.

“What?” you asked, your hand reaching for his face, turning it towards you.

“I’m in love with you, always have been,” his words flew out of his mouth at a quick speed, you almost didn’t catch what he said.

“You’re in love with me?” You asked, smiling at him. He nodded, a small grin playing on his lips. The relief of you knowing his biggest secret lifting a huge weight off his chest.

“I’m in love with you too,” you said, pulling him back down to continue. This kiss felt a lot different than the other one. You could feel the love and didn’t question the intentions when his hands started to roam your body again.

You reached down to touch him through the sweatpants, him grunting into the kiss as you rubbed him. His hands went to the bottom of his shirt that you were wearing, lifting it up. Once he got it over your head, his eyes glanced down to your bare chest. He stared for a few seconds.

“My bra is in your dryer, remember?” you giggled, as he kissed down your neck. His hands roamed your chest, just like he’d fantasized about many times before. The sighs falling out of your mouth every time his hand over one of your nipples made him even harder. His hand trailed lower and lower down your body, rubbing you through the sweatpants.

“Fuck, that feels good,” you whispered. His hand moved back up a little, his fingers tugging at the waistband.

“My panties are in the dryer, too, by the way,” you whispered, his blown-out pupils connected with yours.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” he whispered.

“Ethan, if you don’t touch me, I’ll explode,” you laughed, as you took his hand, sliding it under the waistband.

His fingers wandered the new territory, especially your clit. The way your back arched when he brushed it over made him wonder what other reactions he could get out of you. He trailed his fingers a little lower, sliding one of them inside of you, before adding another. You’d been touch-starved for so long that it was hard to control yourself. He pulled his hand out of your pants, hooking your legs around his waist. He stood up with you wrapped around him, walking you to his room. Your lips were connected; your bare chest pressed against his clothed one. He tossed you on his bed, then pulled the sweatpants off you. He’d imagined you naked in his bed many times, but this was better than he ever thought it could be.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, placing kisses up your thighs.

Once his mouth connected with your clit, you made eye contact. Your mouth fell open as he circled the bundle of nerves with his tongue. He was intently watching you as your breathing got heavier, and your whines got louder.

“I need you inside of me,” you moaned out, his hard cock still confined to his sweatpants. He slid them down his legs, grabbing a condom out of the top drawer beside the bed. He put it on, and wasted no time slowly sliding inside of you.

He took it slow at first, before you really wanted him to pick up the pace.

“More,” was all you could get out. He started to thrust faster, letting a few moans fall out of his mouth.

“I have an idea,” he grunted, before stopping his movements. He pulled out, and walked to his closet. He grabbed another pillow out and walked back over towards you.

“Lift your hips for me, baby,” he said, as he put the pillow underneath you.

He quickly slid back inside you, the new position helping him hit that special spot inside of you.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, feeling your orgasm building. One of your hands traveled down to your clit, rubbing it quickly as you chased that high.

Once you started to squeeze around him, he was a moaning mess. It was hot to see him let his noises go.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he said, thrusts becoming more erratic.

He slid out of you and disposed of the condom, then snuggled up next to your naked body.

“That was better than I ever imagined,” he said, his fingers lazily tangling with yours.

“I agree,” you said. He started to smirk.

“You’ve thought about us doing this before,” he asked.

“Yeah, but my vibrator does nothing compares to this,” you said with a laugh.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”

#scream #scream smut #ethan landry smut #ethan landry

[elvenisms]

on my doorstep —; e.m.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader [5.6k]

summary: An unexpected gift exchange between you and Eddie leads to an eventful Valentine's Day. 18+ MDNI

cw: smut, fluff, no use of y/n, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, first i love yous (':, sub!eddie if you squint, oral (female receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v (as always, don't do this), lovesick idiots and emotional sex.

author's note: getting this up literally ten minutes before valentine's day ends! woohoo! got carried away (as i often do), hope u like it. <3

masterlist

February 10th, 1986

It was a somewhat chilly day in Hawkins, the wind whipping around dead leaves that hadn’t yet been raked, the trees prickly and barren. Forest Hills looked its best like this, you thought; you were never one for hot summer days, or freezing winter nights.

Inside your trailer, Nancy was pouring a cup of coffee, wearing a matching set of pajamas that was oh-so her. That alone made her look more put together than you or Robin, clad in baggy, mismatched sweats. 

“What time do you work, Robs?” You asked mid-yawn, blankets pooling around where you sat on the couch.

She frowned beside you, squeezed her eyes shut, and threw her head back dramatically. “Don’t remind me.”

“Can’t Steve cover for you?” Nancy rounded the corner with two steaming cups, handing them off to the two of you. “He kinda owes you. You covered for him for that date last week.”

“That is a great observation.” Robin pointed a finger at the girl, as if she’d forgotten. “I’ll call him.”

Knock, knock, knock. All three of your heads flew to the door, then back at each other, brows furrowed. 

“Expecting someone?” Nancy asked, and you shook your head in response.

Curious, you threw the blankets off of you, cradling your cup of coffee as you approached the door. Maybe the kids skipped school, had some adventure planned? Maybe Eddie was bored?

You unlocked it, then swung it open—no one was there.

You looked down, confused, and were met with a sea of red; a bouquet of roses, neatly organized inside a vase, sat on your porch. On top, a small note with your name written on it. 

Your jaw dropped slightly in shock. You’d almost forgotten that Valentine’s Day was fast approaching, and certainly didn’t anticipate getting any gifts. You’d been single for almost a year, and not exactly searching.

No reason, really. It just never felt right.

You picked up the bouquet, wide eyes scanning the park for any sign of who dropped it off, but you didn’t see a thing. 

When you turned around, Robin almost spat out her coffee. Nancy had a huge grin on her face. 

“Do you have a secret admirer?” She teased, but it was full of love.

“Not that I know of,” You sat the vase down on the table between the three of you. It really was beautiful. “But this definitely has my name on it.”

“Five bucks says I know who that’s from.” Robin raised her eyebrows, staring sheepishly over her mug. 

“I don’t think I’ll take that bet,” Nancy was still grinning her face off. “I think I know, too.”

You were even more confused now. You looked between them, expectant.

“ItsobviouslyEddie,” Robin spat out, then threw a hand against her mouth. Nancy rolled her eyes. 

“You could’ve given her, like, more than half a second to figure it ou—”

“What?” You interrupted, incredulous. “Why would… Eddie’s my best friend, you guys. It’s not—it’s not like that.”

It wasn’t like that; you just spent a lot of time together. Sometimes you watched movies, and fell asleep wrapped up in each other’s arms. Sometimes you’d go to his shows, watch him play guitar, and bite your lip so hard it bled. Sometimes you had… questionable dreams about him. 

Okay, maybe it was like that. But not for him.

The two girls were looking at you like you just failed a polygraph test. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” You grumbled, setting your coffee down on the table. “He doesn’t feel that way about me, okay? That’s not even his handwriting. It’s way too nice.”

Robin rose from the couch. “Whatever you say, chica,” She headed for the phone, eyeing you as she went. “I’m gonna call Steve.”

You looked to Nancy, who simply shrugged with a knowing smile, then back to the flowers. It wasn’t Eddie. It couldn’t be.

But what if it was?

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

February 11th, 1986

“I think I blew it.”

Eddie’s elbows rested on Steve’s kitchen counter, face buried in his hands. The house was empty, per usual, which Eddie always thought was insane—he wondered what it was like to have money for a place like this, let alone have it and never be in it.

“Oh please,” Steve had a mouth full of cereal, sitting a few feet away at the dining table. “What the hell are you talking about? You got her flowers. Girls love flowers.”

“She’s not just a girl.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, man. She’s a goddess, she hung the moon, she changed your life.” He gestured with his hand, rattling off the painstakingly cheesy things Eddie had said before. “Whatever, she loves flowers. Stop stressing.”

To anyone else, Steve might’ve looked like an asshole for dealing with Eddie’s anguish so casually. In reality, he quite appreciated it. Someone had to keep him grounded.

“Do you think she knows it’s me?” Eddie’s face finally left his hands, looking at his friend with a concerned expression.

“Doesn’t matter if she knows it’s you.” Steve pointed his spoon at him. “She hopes it’s you.”

“And how do we know that?”

“You know nothing, clearly.” Steve got up, carrying his empty bowl to the sink. Eddie rolled his eyes theatrically. “I, however, see how she looks at you when you’re together.”

Eddie’s heart did a little flip inside his chest. He wanted to believe that, he really did—but he doubted the words. “How… how does she look at me, then?”

Steve shrugged. “Sometimes like she wants to kiss you,” He spun on his heel, landing right across from where Eddie sat. “Sometimes like she wants to eat you.”

He swallowed harshly.

In the year that Eddie had known you, he’d been gone on you. Like, the whole time. It only got worse as you became better friends.

You’d help him study, insistent that he finally graduated, but his mind went fuzzy at your bare thighs, your floral perfume, the heat of your skin hovering just beside his. When he knew you were coming to his shows, he’d get indescribably nervous, petrified of embarrassing himself, despite knowing you probably couldn’t care less.

He thanked God he’d never seen or heard about you with another guy; at the same time, it was a little unbelievable. Hence, Steve had finally convinced him to do something—anything—remotely indicative of his feelings. 

Flowers. A good way to test the waters, Eddie thought, without giving himself away. 

After another thirty minutes of crisis-control, Steve drove him home. The boy gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, Ed, seriously.”

He appreciated it, though it did nothing to quell his anxiety. With a nod and a weak smile, he opened the passenger-side door, making toward his trailer.

He glanced at your place as he passed it. Just two days ago, it would’ve been so easy to knock on your door, ask to hang out. It suddenly felt impossible—perhaps because he was no longer shoving his feelings for you to the wayside. He’d made a move. Maybe he’d ruined everything between the two of you.

Mind racing, he treaded up his steps, nearly crushing what laid in front of his door.

A box of chocolates.

His whole body froze, staring at them wide-eyed. Slowly, he bent down, noticing a note stuck between the ribbon. Eds.

Not Eddie, not Ed… Eds.

The nickname he’d heard fall from your sweet lips a thousand times, and hoped he’d hear a thousand more. His heart thumped wildly.

He snatched the box, free hand digging through his pocket for his key, desperate to get inside before he passed away on the spot. He rushed to the couch, studying the note with gentle hands.

All it said was his name. But right now, it felt worthy of a golden frame, a tourist attraction—as if it were the eighth wonder of the world.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

February 12th, 1986

Despite the fact that you still questioned whether or not the roses were from Eddie, today was the fourth day in a row you hadn’t heard from him. No calls, no drop in visits—it was highly unusual. 

It was also a very good sign that it was, in fact, him. 

You hadn’t been able to focus on anything, especially since you dropped the chocolates off at his door. If he wasn’t your so-called ‘secret admirer’, you would have to explain all of this somehow. Well, I thought it was you, because I kinda hoped it was you, and…

The thought made you shudder.

“Are you okay?” Max asked, shoving a pair of sunglasses on her head.

You snapped out of your trance, looking between her and El. “I—yeah, I’m good. Are you guys ready to go?”

The two girls had showed up on your doorstep this afternoon, all giggles and playful shoves, begging to be taken to Starcourt. They took advantage of the soft spot you had for them often.

Soon enough, your run-down car was pulling into the mall parking lot.

“Alright, two hours tops, okay? I’m on night shift tonight, I need enough time to go home and change clothes.” You put on your best parental voice, the three of you making your way toward the entrance. 

The girls nodded happily, just excited to have hitched a ride at all. “You sound like Steve.” El quipped, earning a laugh from the redhead.

It would be nice to do some window-shopping, you thought, to take your mind off of things, if that was at all possible. You just wanted an answer—you wanted to be certain it was him, stop the spiral into thinking you might lose your best friend over some candy. 

Something came over you just inside the mall, right as El and Max were about to split off.

“Max,” You blurted, and she looked at you questioningly. “Weird… Um, weird question. Have you seen Eddie lately? Like, in our neighborhood?”

“No, don’t think so.” She shook her head, then narrowed her eyes at you. “Why?”

“No reason.”

You really were a terrible liar. “Is he ignoring you?”

“No! I mean… yes, but—no, I don’t think so?” You bit your lip. Jesus Christ, way to keep it cool. 

A maniacal grin spread across Max’s face, gesturing for El, who was preoccupied by a display, to come over. “We’re hitting Orange Julius first, and you—” She jabbed a finger into your chest. “—are telling us everything.”

For fuck’s sake.

Within ten minutes, the three of you were sitting at a table, sucking down your frozen drinks. You quietly hoped the brain freeze would give you a stroke.

“Spill.” Max commanded, both girls clearly excited for some gossip.

Before saying a word, you sat down your cup, extending both pinkies. “First of all, this stays between us, alright?”

They each hooked a pinky with their own, and you nodded, satisfied. So much for keeping your mind off of it. 

“Two days ago, someone left flowers on my doorstep. And I… I hope it was Eddie, because I might’ve left chocolates on his doorstep yesterday.”

Both girls squealed, clutching each other in excitement. “But, like, I don’t know if it was him, guys.” You were quick to subdue it, putting a hand out in front of you.

“It totally was!” El chirped, and Max nodded, joining in. “You guys are, like, idiots in love.”

“We are not!” The blush on your cheeks told a much different story. “Okay, whatever. Four people have now told me it’s definitely him, so guess I have my answer.”

“You already knew the answer.” Max rolled her eyes, rising from her seat with El. “Now, go get him something nice, and we’ll meet you back here in an hour and a half.”

The two girls skipped away. You took a dramatic slurp of your Orange Julius. 

Fine, you decided, less stressing, more shopping. You couldn’t take back the chocolates, so there was no point in worrying about it—que sera, sera, or however that goes.

You roamed the mall for about forty-five minutes, making pit stops at your favorite places; you bumped into the girls at Afterthoughts, where they were taking a decision on friendship bracelets very seriously. You stopped into Spencer’s, a favorite of yours for band tees and silly knick knacks—you almost got something for Eddie there, but lava lamps and mugs didn’t seem meaningful enough.

Deciding you’d figure it out later, you began making your way back to the meeting point. A display, from out of the corner of your eye, stopped you in your tracks. 

You stared at it, eyes slightly glazed over. It felt insane that you were even considering it.

It felt even more insane when your feet developed a mind of your own, carrying you into the store, and back out with a small bag—which you promptly shoved in your purse. 

“Do my eyes deceive me? You guys are here early?” You teased, approaching Max and El at the table from earlier. They were each carrying a few bags.

“We work fast,” El smiled, scanning you. “Did you get something for Eddie?”

“No, but I will, don’t worry.” You lied, knowing if you didn’t, they’d pester you until you showed them. “Ready to head out?”

The three of you made your way back to the car. After dropping El off at Hop’s, you headed back to Forest Hills with Max. She rested her feet on the dash. 

The ride was quiet—probably due to the fact that your mind was anything but. The gift you’d picked up for Eddie was… ballsy, to say the least. You blamed your friends for these bouts of fleeting confidence, which ultimately ended in wanting to bang your head against a wall. 

You parked at your place. Max hopped out, bags in tow, and made off toward her trailer.

“Thanks again,” She shouted, then gave a little nod towards your front door. “Looks like you got another delivery.”

Your head whipped toward the doorstep, approaching it with an embarrassing amount of haste. There was another delivery. 

A copy of Flashdance. Your knees wavered.

Now you were certain it was Eddie; the first time you’d watched it together, you made him swear he wouldn’t tell anyone how much you loved it. Cheesy, romantic, dance films didn’t exactly fit your tough-girl image. 

As giddy and lightheaded as you felt right now, maybe they were starting to. 

Of course, there was a note attached. You grabbed it, eyes widening when it didn’t just say your name.

Will I be seeing you on the 14th?

No name, no signature. What a little shithead, you thought, cheeks sore from smiling so hard. You pressed both the tape and note into your chest, exhaling a shaky breath.

It was real now. Whatever part of you that still doubted Eddie’s feelings had vanished—and it left behind a mess of excitement, nerves, and anticipation.

You glanced down at your purse, having almost forgotten about what you bought. Your stomach flipped in anxiety.

One more gift.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

February 13th, 1986

Eddie missed you. Like, missed the hell out of you—which was embarrassing, considering it had been less than a week since you last hung out.

Despite being adamant he couldn’t give out anymore free rentals, Steve had scored him the copy of Flashdance. He was really just proud that Eddie hadn’t completely chickened out yet.  Quite frankly, so was Eddie.

Though, that note he’d left at your door got him pretty close to it.

What if you said no? Even worse, what if you said yes, somehow under the impression that this was some lighthearted, best friend thing? Eddie didn’t think you were that oblivious, but the worst case scenario was kind of his forté.

Dustin thumped him on the back of the head. “Stop thinking about it.”

“But I’m—”

“No, nope, zip.” The smaller boy closed his fingers in front of Eddie’s face. “You can think about it tomorrow, when she professes her undying love for you.”

Eddie glared at him. The audacity was outrageous. “What do you suggest I do, then?”

Dustin glanced around the trailer. He didn’t think he’d get this far.

“Um,” He scratched the back of his neck. “We can talk about Hellfire?”

Eddie groaned, leaning back into the couch. “Henderson, I love you, I really do—but for the first time in my life, I have more pressing things to think about than Dungeons and Dragons.”

Dustin didn’t take it personally. In fact, he understood. He’d been sent here by Steve to keep Eddie’s mind off of it, which was proving useless, so he caved.

“Alright, fine.” He sighed, taking a seat beside the long-haired boy. A loaded silence ensued.

Eventually, he looked at Eddie in earnest, the corners of his lips turning up. “You think she’s the one?”

Eddie studied him for a moment. He noted the sincerity in his expression. “Yeah.” He breathed, nodding softly. “I mean, shit, yeah, I really do.”

“I think she is too, man.” Dustin grinned, in the comforting way that was uniquely his. “I mean, your one, not my one.”

Eddie chuckled at that. He might’ve been the luckiest guy in Hawkins to have such great friends—even if some of them were fifteen years old. If he had you, too, he’d be some sort of walking miracle. 

“Let’s just hope—”

Knock, knock, knock. Eddie’s sentence stopped in its tracks. The two of them locked wide eyes, and Dustin broke out beaming like a schoolboy.

“Holy shit,” He giggled, watching as Eddie approached the front door slowly. “She has, like, superhuman instincts or something.”

“Shush.”

Eddie’s hand gripped the handle, overcome by a wave of anticipation. Just beyond the worn wood, he’d find the answer to his question—a question which meant so much more than its face value.

Will I be seeing you on the 14th? Am I crazy for thinking I might? Do you want me how I’ve always wanted you?

He pulled the door open, eyes already trained to the ground. There laid a small piece of paper, liable to be blown away at any moment—he picked it up, hand shaking, heartbeat in his ears.

My place, tomorrow, 8pm. Last gift is here.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

February 14th, 1986

It was 7:45pm. You sat on your couch, leg bouncing, the faint sound of crickets penetrating your walls.

It was silly, really, to be so nervous—it was Eddie. You knew Eddie like the back of your hand.

His favorite songs, the way he’d fidget with his rings when he was nervous, the little noises he made in his sleep. You could almost smell his signature cologne, musky and warm, like a campfire at midnight. 

There were things you didn’t know.

You didn’t know the way his lips felt against yours. You’d long wondered whether he was a gentle or fiery lover; as much as you knew him, you still couldn’t tell.

Eddie, who’d once tended to a wound on your knee with delicate hands, wincing in sympathy whenever you did. Eddie, who was a passionate performer, owning every square inch of the stage with confidence. 

A knock at the door took the wind out of you. 

You stood up abruptly, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in your sweater, your skirt. You cursed yourself for not putting on some music, now acutely aware of the silence.

It was too late now. Fuck.

It was so much easier when it was flowers, movies, or flirty little notes on the other side of the door. You wondered if Eddie felt the same—terrified to knock and stay put, not scurry off and hide.

You clutched the doorknob, opening it slowly. Your eyes found each others’ in an instant.

He had on his leather jacket, typically reserved for shows, and a Judas Priest t-shirt. Like always, his knees showed through the holes in his jeans—a chain clipped to the belt loops. 

He was perfect. And even so, he looked nervous.

“Hey.” You said softly, like a deer in headlights.

He twisted one of his rings, eyes glued to yours. “Hi.”

It was so strange, you thought, how effortless it was before; a few innocent gifts had so drastically changed the air around you both. Some scrawled out notes brought a sea of unspoken feelings to the surface.

Instinctively, your arms reached out, pulling him into your home with a lingering hug. Despite being the root of your current anxiety, you craved his comfort.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He breathed, like feeling you in his arms was a relief. Your face was buried in his shirt, taking in the scent. Like a campfire at midnight. 

After a long moment, you leaned back to look at him, his hand cradling the back of your head. You could feel his breath ghosting against your lips, chests rising and falling together.

“Can I kiss you?” Eddie whispered, heartbeat drumming against you. 

Your limbs were numb. “Please.”

So, he did.

Every insecurity you had became ridiculously insignificant. The lack of music, the wrinkles in your clothes, the smudge in your eyeliner—they were like specks of dust on the Mona Lisa, because Eddie was fucking kissing you, and it felt like clicking the last piece into a ten-thousand piece puzzle.

He held you as if you were made of glass, gentle enough to bring tears to your eyes.

You finally parted, breathless, foreheads resting together. “Eds,” You murmured, hands beginning to wander, skimming over his shoulders, his chest. “I… I want to…”

“Me too.” He replied with a shaky breath, not needing you to finish the thought. “Promise me you’re sure. I’ll… shit, I’ll never forgive myself if I fuck this up.”

You won’t. You can’t. You never could.

“I’m sure.” You croaked, hands finally finding themselves in his curls. “I’ve been sure, Eds, for a year, since the moment I met y—”

He pressed his lips to yours, a different sort of passion within it. It was feverish, needy, tongues and teeth bumping into each other messily; his hands traveled down to your thighs, lifting you, and you wrapped your legs around him.

You hardly felt yourself move before you were being laid down on the soft surface of your bed. Your fingers stripped him of his jacket, tossing it off to the side, then moved to the hem of his shirt, embarrassingly eager to feel his skin against yours. 

Eddie held himself up with a forearm beside your head, his other hand clutching at the sweater over your waist, finally finding the courage to lift it off of you. Underneath it, intricate black lace—a sheer one-piece that left nothing to the imagination. 

He stopped kissing you. Not on purpose, but out of pure astonishment, eyes trailing your torso. 

“Is this…”

“Your last gift?” Your chest was heaving now, Eddie’s eyes warming your skin, but you managed a shy smile. “Yeah, it is.”

He sat up, bringing both large hands to delicately span your ribcage. Jesus Christ, the way he was looking at you was the best kind of absurd—like you were expensive, unattainable.

You felt the cold metal of his rings through the thin fabric, and it made you keen inadvertently. His eyes immediately flicked up to your face.

“You’re gonna kill me.” He shook his head lightly, utterly awestruck. “Like, really, I might not make it out of here alive.”

You giggled, and the smile rubbed off on him. “I might not either,” You reached out, hands slipping beneath his shirt, traversing the bare skin underneath. He shivered at the feeling. “So, let’s die happy.”

That must’ve ignited something in him, because he squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of it, wasting no time in pulling his shirt over his head. You hardly had time to appreciate the sight before he was on you again.

He nipped at your jaw, your hands making quick work of the button on his jeans; at the same time, his fingers tucked themselves in the edge of your skirt, gliding it off of you.

You tangled your fingers in his curls, as if it was the only thing keeping you from floating away. Only a few thin layers were left separating you.

“So perfect,” Eddie’s hands came to your shoulders, oh-so softly hooking the straps of the lingerie, sliding them down your arms. His breath warmed your neck. “This is beautiful, but you…” 

Your mouth opened and closed again, too overwhelmed by the praise to speak. You felt him drag the fabric down, an agonizing pace, until you were entirely exposed.

“You are everything to me.” He whispered, and there was a vulnerability behind it that made your heart swell.

Your fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, and he gently clutched your wrist, stopping you. You made a small noise of protest. 

“Wait,” He murmured, pressing his lips to your neck, then your collarbone. His ringed fingers came up to cup one of your breasts, and your breath hitched when he kissed there, too. 

He continued downward, lips trailing your navel, pausing just above where you wanted him most. His dark eyes met yours, and Christ, he looked like an angel.

“Wanna take care of you.” He gripped your hips—not forcefully, but hard enough. “Can I?”

“Please.” You didn’t even know how he meant it. You didn’t care.

His hands found their way to the backs of your thighs, giving them a gentle push, putting your center on full display for him.

It had been so long since anyone had seen you like this, and now it was Eddie; as many times as you’d imagined this scenario, you never considered it could be a reality. You felt suddenly insecure.

His face couldn’t have told a more different story.

It was as if you’d bestowed God’s greatest gift upon him with your permission—you almost couldn’t be insecure. He was doe-eyed, slack jawed, a few stray curls hanging down in his face. Clearly the least of his concerns.

As you reached to brush them away, he leaned forward, softly swiping his tongue between your folds. It caught you off guard, back arching slightly. “Shit, Eds, yes.”

Your response was all he needed to continue, attaching his mouth to you again. You half expected it to be sloppy, fast, and eager; instead, he was methodical. His tongue circled your bud slowly, dipping down to your entrance every so often, wanting to taste everything you had to offer.

He was savoring every moment. And, fuck, you thought your soul might leave your body.

“G-God, shit,” You whined, no longer in control of what left your mouth. His hair was threaded in your knuckles, which you hadn’t even noticed until a particular swirl over your clit made you tug roughly on the strands—Eddie groaned against you, movements nearly faltering.

The vibrations were almost too much, let alone the fact that he liked his hair being pulled. You felt a finger tease your entrance, eliciting a gasp among your many moans, and it didn’t take long for him to sink it into you.

“Eddie,” It came out like a weak warning. The coldness of the ring on his knuckle met your most sensitive area, and you were gone. “Oh, fuck, Eddie, m’gonna—”

He curled it inside you and whimpered, sending your body alight.

You came as if you never had before. The combination of his mouth, his finger, the sounds he was making, his goddamn ring—it was euphoric, unlike anything you’d ever experienced, rendering you a babbling mess. 

He slowed down as you did, reading your body as if it were his favorite book. You thought he must’ve somehow read it a dozen times already. 

Appearing at your level again, Eddie caught his breath alongside you, his voice as soft as silk. “Was that… good?”

And for fuck’s sake, he was asking in earnest, like he really didn’t know whether he’d done well.

You huffed out an incredulous laugh, and it brought a smile to his face. Your hands came up to cradle his cheeks. “The best I’ve ever had, Eds.”

That did something to him—his eyelids fluttered shut, brow furrowing. It turned him on to hear he’d satisfied you. Which, in turn, made the ache between your legs apparent again. 

When you began to tug on the waistband of his boxers for a second time, he made no effort to stop you.

“Need you inside me,” It was more of a beg than a demand, barely audible, against his lips. 

Finally, every piece of clothing had been discarded. Feeling him rest against your core, heavy and throbbing, made you tremble. He was already on the brink of losing his composure. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He brushed the hair from your eyes, pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Always. Gonna go slow, okay?”

Your heart turned inside your chest. Eddie knew it had been a while since you’d done this. You knew it has been awhile since he’d done this, too—and yet he pushed the nervousness aside, determined to be a rock for your comfort. 

You nodded, nosing against his cheek, feeling safer than you ever had before.

He lined himself up with you, pushing forward gently, tip breaching your wetness. It made your jaw fall open; the stretch was good, not painful, but you still needed the time to adjust.

He reacted similarly, his mouth open slightly, the muscles in his abdomen tensing. At the same time, his eyes scanned your face for any sign of discomfort.

When he was fully seated within you, you were already panting into each other's mouths. It felt like you were complete, not only physically, but emotionally—and you knew he felt it, too, though it remained unspoken. 

“Okay?” He whispered, dark orbs boring into your own.

Your body was covered in goosebumps. “Yes.”

He started to move, languidly pulling his hips back, pressing them into your own. You were desperate for each other, to feel each other; your passion didn’t choose to manifest in a rough, frenzied manner. Both of you needed to relish in every movement, every touch, every sound. 

It was overwhelmingly intimate.

His left hand found your own, lacing your fingers together, pressing it into the mattress beside your head. The other cupped your face, thumb resting on your bottom lip. 

You breathed out each other’s names, eyes locked. He was reaching the depths of you, brushing your sweet spot with every slow thrust, and it made a knot begin to form in your stomach. 

Your free hand found his hair, gripping it again, and he shuddered out a beautiful noise. “Baby,” He keened, and his hand left your face to hold your hip, pulling out farther, rolling in deeper.

“Me too.” You croaked. It was like you shared one mind, one body, no longer needing to say what it was you felt. You just knew. 

The air thickened around you, breaths becoming shorter, grips becoming tighter. A sheen of sweat covered both of your skin, fast approaching your climaxes.

“Eddie, I—” You were swept away, mind trying to force the words out, pleasure making it difficult. “I… I—”

“Tell me, baby.” He rasped, full of longing, like he hoped he already knew.

“—I love you,” It came out like a soft sob, every muscle in your body contracting.

He lost himself at that. A symphony of noises filled the small room, and you clung to him with everything you had, mind buzzing, body writhing instinctually. It was a feeling that deserved to be bottled, placed in a museum—complete and utter fulfillment, in every possible way. 

You weren’t sure how long the two of you laid there, heartbeats drumming against each other, trying to come back to earth. It could’ve been a minute, an hour.

Eventually, and probably for the best, your minds wandered back to you. Eddie gently backed away, just enough to pull out of you, and quickly enveloped you in his arms again. 

His chin rested on your shoulder, chest pressed to your back, both of you blissed out and fuzzy.

“By the way,” He spoke softly, arms tightening around your waist. “I love you, too. I should’ve said it earlier, but I was a little busy losing my absolute shit.”

You broke out into a laugh, the contradiction between his words and the current situation tickling you. He grinned widely into the skin of your neck. 

“Who wrote that note?” You turned towards him, mind running over the events of the last few days. “The first one, with my name. I didn’t believe Rob and Nance when they said it was you—the handwriting was too nice.”

His hand came up, stroking your hair lovingly. “Steve has girly handwriting. Usually I make fun of him for it, but it got me here, so maybe I’ll stop.”

You giggled at that, and jeez, you were sure the two of you looked like idiots in love right now—faces inches apart, delicate touches wherever you could reach, absolutely beaming. 

“For the record, I didn’t believe them either.” Eddie’s eyes explored your face. “Harrington, Henderson. I thought they were batshit, saying you were in love with me.”

You inched even closer to him. “Maybe we should start listening to our friends.”

“Let’s not be rash.” He joked, and you playfully pushed his chest. “But, yeah. They were right this time.”

There were a few moments of silence, the two of you taking each other in, biting back smiles. 

“I love you.” You said quickly, giddily. 

Eddie’s finger brushed your nose. “I love more.”

“See, that would be the case,” You began, faux seriousness painting your expression. “If I didn’t love you most.” 

He wagged a finger in your face, leaning in to pepper you with kisses, and continue waging a war that would never end. 

At the end of the day, three things were certain.

Firstly, you loved Eddie.

Secondly, Eddie loved you.

Thirdly, your friends were definitely going to regret encouraging you to tell each other those two things.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things smut #happy vday whores #mine

[weasleytwinwheezes]

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader 

Warnings: Mentions of drug use, cussing, angst, mutual pining

Summary: based off the song Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High by the Arctic Monkeys. Y/N has a long-standing crush on Eddie but feels like his feelings are only reciprocated when he’s stoned

A/N: first fic in a long time! im obsessed with eddie so i knew i had to write something with him! let me know how you like it :)

Eddie Munson loved weed. 

That wasn’t news to anyone. Especially you. The two of you would regularly celebrate after the weekly Hellfire meeting with a joint and a horror movie. As much as Eddie was the ‘town freak’ he was even more widely known as the ‘town stoner’. That also wasn’t news to you, after becoming friends the summer before your senior year-Eddie quickly introduced you to the joys of marijuana.

But lately, you have started to despise the beloved leaf. 

It started off small. The two of you would get high and cuddle up during a scary movie. Then it progressed into eating edibles and slow dancing in the kitchen while making them. He would always look at you so lovingly and call you ‘sweetheart’. Everything he spoke to you so softly that it made your heart lurch in your chest. Eventually it led to him rubbing your back and shoulders while you tried to study. Naturally you assumed his sweet affections would blend into your life outside of his cozy trailer, but it never did. 

Of course he was still sweet, dorky Eddie. But it was still a far cry from the man who felt you up in his bedroom. He would never go further than a hug in person and never hinted towards anything going on between you. 

After weeks of constantly scrutinizing every action you had with him, you told yourself that it was the weed making him act this way. It wasn’t him. The events of the past proved it. He only wanted you when he was high. He didn’t have the same feelings for you when he was sober and that was just something you had to get passed. 

So you made yourself sparse. You stopped hanging out after Hellfire club, making excuses about end of the year exams and babysitting. You definitely avoided any reason that would result in you going over to his trailer. It was easier this way, you didn’t allow yourself to get your hopes up.

But you missed Eddie. He was such a huge part of your everyday life. Granted you still sat with him at lunch and attended every Hellfire meeting, but it wasn’t the same. There was no more you and Eddie- it was just you and Eddie now. Two separate people. 

You could tell that Eddie noticed you pulling away from him, even though you knew he would never say anything. He was still persistent as ever about you coming over after a successful campaign. 

“Y/N I feel like we never see each other anymore. But I got some amazing new shit from Reefer Rick and I know you’ll love it,” Eddie pleaded, clasping his hands together with a pouty face. 

“Eddie I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so behind on homework that it’s a joke and-“ you began but cut yourself off when a large hand grasped your much smaller one. 

“Please, I just miss hanging out with you,” he whispered softly, brown eyes looking down at you. 

You could feel your heart leaping in your chest. This is exactly what you needed to avoid. This is why you had kept your distance. All the feelings you had shoved down over the past few weeks came surging upwards and you felt your resolve cracking. 

“Sure Eddie, lead the way,” you sighed. 

At the verbal confirmation that you would be spending time with him, he grabbed your hand and pulled you to his van. 

————-

The ride to his trailer was quiet, save for the low hum of Black Sabbath coming from the speakers. Neither one of you spoke about much. You opting to look out at the scenery of Hawkins. 

On the other hand, Eddie was more focused on you. He missed you. A lot. The past few weeks had been torture for him. He knew something was wrong but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe he had come on too strong the last time you were over? Or maybe he had misread your reactions to his moves? Regardless, he had given you plenty of time to figure it out and he wanted an answer. 

Tonight. 

——————-

Pulling into the gravel driveway you felt your palms begin to sweat. Rubbing your hands across your denim clad thighs, you looked everywhere but at him. You knew deep down the minute he offered a joint, you’d cave. You never could tell him no. 

Somehow sensing your reluctance to climb out of the van, Eddie killed the engine and just sat in silence with you. Finally gaining the courage to look at him, you were met with a sight that confused you. 

Eddie looked sad and somewhat guilty. 

Holy shit. This is it. He’s going to tell you that he’s not interested in you at all in any way besides a friend and nope you can’t deal with that.

“Eddie, take me home please,” you softly whispered, heart breaking with each word. 

Whipping his head to you, he stared with wide brown eyes, “Y/N, please talk to me. Please just tell me what I did wrong. I’m going crazy without you and I’m so fucking sorry if I did something that made you uncomfortable. Please understand that I never ever meant to do that.” 

“What? You never made me uncomfortable. Why would you think that?” you questioned, staring at him warily. 

“Because you disappeared on me. You pulled away from me and I pretended not to notice. I really really did. But that hurt, still hurts. I had to have done something,” Eddie responded strickenly. 

“Eds, you didn’t technically do anything. I gave myself hope about something I never should have so I pulled out before I got even more hurt. I’m sorry that it’s hurting you but I couldn’t do it anymore,” you rushed out. 

“Do what Y/N? What can’t you do anymore?” he questioned. 

“I can’t do this anymore! Us! I can’t handle my heart being broken every time we hang out!” you exclaimed, hands gesturing wildly between the two of you. 

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about! How is hanging out with me breaking your heart?!” he asks, voice raising with every word. 

“Because you only want me when you’re high!” you yell, angry tears leaking down your face. 

Facing Eddie you see his face filled with surprise and disbelief. It was a look you’d never seen before but you couldn’t stop yourself from continuing, “I couldn’t handle only having you when you were stoned and alone in your trailer. I thought I could handle it but I can’t. It broke my heart every single time! You would be so sweet and affectionate then the next day act as if it never mattered. As if I never mattered! That’s why Eddie! It’s like I only exist in the late hours of the night with you, not during the day. I know you don’t feel the same things I do and that’s okay but I couldn’t let myself get played with like that.” 

You felt lighter. Somehow getting those words out into the world helped you. If you knew how much better they made you feel, maybe you would have said them weeks ago. 

Eddie seemed at a lost for words as he stared at you. He seemed to be taking in every last detail of you. It was as if he was preparing himself to never see you again. The two of you sat like that for what felt like hours. Realistically it was only around five minutes, but the words hanging in the air seemed to stretch time. 

You had resigned to looking at the rain hitting the windshield, unable to gaze at him any longer. When he finally broke the silence, “I’m so sorry. I thought that was how you wanted me to be. I’ve never had someone who wanted to be seen with me outside of the night. Assumed you would be ashamed like the others. But I wanted to hold your hand and kiss your cheek between classes. I wanted you to want me and even if that meant you only wanting me when we were stoned, I was going to take it.” 

He thought you were ashamed of him. He thought you wanting him for nothing more than affection and weed behind closed doors. He was so used to people wanting to protect their reputation that he was willing to be your dirty little secret. 

Reaching across the center console you grabbed you ringed hand, “Eddie, it looks like both of us were wrong. I don’t want to hide you. I want you to hold my hand and kiss me on the cheek. Hell, I want to scream to the world that Eddie Munson is mine! I want to wear your clothes so everyone knows who I belong to. I want to tell people that I love y-“ 

You were roughly cut off by his free hand pulling your face to his in a tender kiss. Kidding Eddie was everything you thought it would be. It was amazing. It was sweet. It was right. 

Pulling back quickly Eddie whispered, “Sweetheart, please say that again. Please. Please. Please.” 

“I love you Eddie and I’m tired of pretending I don’t,” you whispered softly, planting gentle kisses on his cheek. 

“You just made me the happiest man alive. I loved you for far too long princess. Now how about we handle that wearing my clothes part?” he replied, with a devilish grin. 

Throwing your head back with the first genuine laugh you’d had in weeks, you left Eddie drag from the van and into the trailer. Tonight you would let him have you in the dark but tomorrow you would have him in the day. 

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie munson angst

[cherrycola27]

false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to and full smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

Chapter Moodboard courtesy of @thedroneranger

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Chapter 13: Electric Touch

Thursdays at the Hard Deck were normally pretty quiet. A few regulars besides the Dagger Squad, maybe a few girls out with their friends or the occasional group of office coworkers out for a pre-Friday happy hour.

However, this Thursday was very loud. Not because of the crowds, but because of Penny Benjamin, soon to be Mitchell.

The Daggers had taken a seat at the bar, and Penny was talking to them when her phone rang. She stepped to the back to take it. Moments later, everyone heard the unmistakable sound of her yelling.

Glances were shared amongst the group as they all wondered what could be wrong. All eyes shot towards Maverick, who was innocently sitting at the end of the bar.

"I didn't do anything—this time. I swear!" He held his hands up in mock defense as Penny came back out.

"You aren't going to believe it!" She huffed to no one in particular. "My band for tomorrow just canceled on me. Something about another bar offered them more money. What am I going to do? We always get a huge crowd when we have live music!" Penny grabbed the towel off her shoulder and threw it on the bar before taking her head in her hands and sighing.

Everyone was silent for a moment, trying to come up with a way to console Penny. No one was sure what to say. Bradley looked at you and raised an eyebrow. You knew what he was thinking. You knew what everyone was thinking, but no one was going to say anything to throw you under the bus. Well, almost no one.

"You know Hades is in a band. She's the lead singer." Jake pipes up after a few beats.

You shoot him a death glare as Penny comes to stand before you.

"You're in a band?" She leans on her elbows.

"Technically, I'm just filling in until they find a new lead singer." You tell her. "So you're in a band, and you didn't tell me?" Penny scoffs.

"The Styx isn't really the kind of band you normally have here, Pen. You can ask they squad. They unknowingly saw us a few months ago for Fanboy's birthday. We are more punk rock—alternative—that kind of stuff." You tell her, hoping she'll drop it.

"Listen, I'm in a pinch. Can you call the rest of your band mates and see if you can turn the emo down for a night and help me out. I mean, surely you guys know some pop or rock or something." Penny practically begs you.

She wasn't wrong, The Styx knew a wide range of songs.

"Fine." You sighed. "I'll call them." You grabbed your phone and stepped outside. Half an hour later, everyone had agreed, and The Styx would be playing at the Hard Deck on Friday.

................

You were silent as Bradley drove to the Hard Deck early Friday afternoon. You were going to a quick sound check before the Hard Deck opened and then you and Bradley were grabbing a quick dinner before The Styx went on.

In regards to Penny's wishes, you and the rest of the band had chosen and rehearsed some more upbeat pieces, some throwback rock, and a few surprises.

You'd also traded in your usual concert attire for a black sundress with cap sleeves that tied in the front. You could take the girl out of the punk, but you couldn't take the punk out of the girl.

Sound check and dinner went fine, but when Bradley brought you back and opened your door, you refused to get out.

"I can't do this." You said to him as he stood there with the door open.

"What do you mean, Angel?" Bradley asked you.

"I can't—I can't sing in front of these people." You told him, still not moving.

"Angel, darling, I've seen you get up there and sing your heart out dozens of time now. You've never once had any reservations. Why now?" Bradley inquires.

"Because—because I didn't know those people, and they didn't know me. At other bars, I'm just a performer, but the people here know me, they work with me, they've seen me around—I can't—I can't hide." You admit to him. You'd never been one to have stage fright, but the idea of not having the security of playing a bar and then never going there again weighed on your shoulders.

At other gigs, people didn't know your name, and you'd never see them again, but the Hard Deck was different.

This audience would be filled with people who knew you. What if you messed up? Made a fool of yourself? Everyone would know.

"Baby." Bradley spoke softly. "Everything is going to be fine. You're going to be amazing. Plus, if anyone says anything to you, I will personally take care of it myself. Now, you need to get in there and knock 'em dead." Bradley smiles at you before unbuckling your seat belt and helping you out of the car.

You nod and jump out, ready to head in. But before you do, Bradley grabs your hand.

"Woah, woah, woah, woah." Bradley, stops you and tugs you back to him. You curl against his torso. As he looks down at you. "I know you aren't about to get up there and sing without me giving you a good luck kiss. C'mon Kolasi, are you crazy?" Bradley chuckles. You lean up on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his lips.

"Much better." He grins. "Now go be a rockstar." You turn away from him and run to catch up with everyone.

You take your place with the band and exchange greetings and good luck. Lyla let's you know that everything is ready for what you have planned.

After Penny introduces you, you all take the stage. The Daggers are all front row, with Bradley in the center, looking up at you like you hung the moon.

You start out your set with some eighties rock. Bon Jovi always puts everyone in a good mood. During the set, you move through some boy band hits, pop princesses, and a dash of country, but as it comes to a close, you have two songs left, and you're nervous for them.

After wrapping up the last bars of a Halsey song, Derrick puts down his bass guitar and grabs his saxophone from the case.

You turn to the crowd and speak into the microphone. "Well, we've got two songs left in our set, and we thought we'd change it up just a bit." You speak.

Everyone cheers and settles in. You find Bradley, still watching, still captivated by you. You take a deep breath. These last two songs would be the most special of the night. Not because you loved them, but because you were singing them to Bradley. They were for him.

You nodded to Derrick, and he and the rest of the band began to play.

You opened your mouth, and the words flowed from your red lips.

"We were crazy to think. Crazy to think that this could work. Remember how I said I'd die for you?"

Bradley's ears perked up. He recognized this song. He'd heard it faintly over the roar of the shower on more than one occasion. His breath hitched. You continued to sing, and Bradley couldn't ignore how undeniably sexy you looked and sounded right now.

He could feel the heat rising in his face and all of his blood rushing south as you began the chorus of the song.

"We might just get away with it. The altar is my hips. Even if it's a false god."

Your hips were an alter, and Bradley would gladly spend the rest of his life on his knees worshiping you.

His pants were definitely feeling tighter now as your body swayed with the beat. You looked right at him. Your eyes locked into his as you sang.

As you finished the song, Bradley really thought he was going to have to excuse himself to the bathroom, but if he got up, everyone would see how rock hard he was underneath his jeans. So, he stayed seated and took a long sip of his beer, trying to collect himself as there was some movement on the stage.

He looked around the bar and tried to think of anything except for you and what you might be wearing under your dress and what it would look like when he took it off of you tonight.

When he looks back at the stage, he's shocked.

You're standing up at the microphone with a red and black acoustic guitar in your hands. Bradley didn't even know you played. Is it possible that seeing you with it has made him fall even more in love with you?

You clear your throat as you grip the neck of the guitar and squeeze your pick in your hand.

"So we have one more song for you tonight, and I'd like to dedicate it to someone special. Bradley, this one's for you, Love." You say as you begin to strum the first notes of the song.

Bradley's breath catches jn his throat. He isn't sure where to look right now. He can't decide if he should focus on the way your fingers expertly glide over the strings of the guitar or how perfect your crimson pout is while you sing.

"All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life."

Bradley thinks about how he would never break your heart and how you've told him he is the one who made you believe in love—in soulmates.

The more you sing, the more he sees your inhibitions slipping. He sees you relax and enjoy what you're doing, truly for the first time that night.

"And I want you now, wanna need you forever. In the heat of your electric touch."

God, you looked so beautiful up there. You found his eyes and smiled right at him. There was so much love for him on your face. You loved him, and you wanted everyone to know.

You stepped away from the microphone and started playing in earnest, strumming every note without hesitation or fear, jumping to the beat without a care in the world.

The bridge of the song came up. You let go of your guitar and let it hang from your shoulder as you grabbed the microphone with both hands to sing it.

"I was thinking just one time. Maybe the stars align. And maybe I call you mine—"

You locked eyes with him, and it was like you two were the only ones in the room

"Maybe the moment's right—"

You threw your head back as you crescendoed on a note at the climax of the song.

You finished strong with the absolute biggest smile on your face. Everyone inside the bar gave you and The Styx a standing ovation, and when you looked at Bradley, he was beaming at you with pride. You couldn't help it, but a few tears came to your eyes. But it was true, Bradley really did bring you back to life.

He was the light in your darkness.

He gave you a reason to live.

He saved you.

After putting everything away, Bradley found you sitting on the back deck of the Hard Deck, watching the waves roll in.

"You were amazing." He tells you, coming to sit beside you. "Why did you tell me you could play guitar?" He asks you. "It never came up." You joke with him as he pulls your stool closer to him.

There's a comfortable silence between the two of you as you both stare at the ocean, enjoying each other's company.

"Bradley." You breathe out, breaking the quiet. He hums back in response. "Take me home." You say as you stand up between his parted thighs.

"Of course, baby. I can take us home, we can change into some comfy clothes and watch some more of that documentary. Bradley replies, missing the point.

"Bradley—" you sigh as you meet his confused expression. "Take me home, and take me to bed." You clarify for him. Your palm coming to rest on his bicep

His honey colored eyes turn almost black in an instant as he pulls you in for a kiss.

"Fuck—Angel. Are you sure?" He asks you as he pulls back.

"Positive." You confirm. That's all Bradley needed to hear. He quickly stands up and grabs your hand. The two of you weave through the crowd of people, not bothering to stop and say goodbye. Bradley doesn't let go of you or speak a word until he has physically put you in the Bronco and buckled you up himself.

"I love you." He says as he climbs in the car and starts it. He laces your fingers together, and the two of you drive into the night.

.................

You thought you would be nervous on the drive home, but you're not.

Then, you thought that the nerves would hit you as you rode in the elevator to your floor or when Bradley unlocked the door and pulled you in behind him.

But they didn't.

And they didn't come when Bradley pinned you against the inside of the door to kiss you. They didn't come when you kicked off your shoes and wrapped your legs around his torso. They didn't come as he carried you down the hallway while you pushed his tropical print shirt off his shoulders or pulled his undershirt over his head.

The nerves didn't come because you didn't have anything to be nervous about. You loved Bradley and he loved you.

He gently sat you down , your feet landing on the plush rug in your shared bedroom.

Bradley unbuckled his belt and quickly discarded it and his jeans, leaving him in just his tight, black boxers.

You cupped him through the fabric, and he kissed you— hard. He moaned against your mouth as you ran your hand over his covered length. You slipped your tongue between his parted lips and deepened the kiss.

The need for air became too great, and the two of you broke apart. Bradley pressed his forehead against yours as the two of you panted, sharing the same air.

His hands skimmed up your side before finding the knot that held the front of your dress closed. He slowly pulled at the fabric, tugging it lose, before spinning you around and dragging the zipper down the back of your dress. Bradley pressed featherlight kisses along the column of your spin as each new inch of skin was exposed to him.

Once the zipper was open, he rose back to his feet and gathered all of your hair away from the right side of your neck. He pushed it away as you lulled your head to the side to give him better access. His lips dances across the space, leaving a scorching trail in their wake as he pushed the sleeves of your dress off your shoulders.

It pooled in the floor at your feet. You stepped out of it and turned to face him.

You weren't wearing a bra, so Bradley had a beautiful view of your peaked nipples that were just begging for his lips to be wrapped around them or rolled between his callous fingertips.

His eyes trailed futher south to the lacy, onyx colored panties—if you could even consider calling them panties, that you were wearing.

The small scrap of black fabric left little to the imagination. The lace ran across the front of you before merging with silk ribbons that were tied and resting on your hips.

Bradley skimmed his hands across your tattoos before tugging each ribbon loose with one finger. The cloth easily fell away from you and joined your dress and his pants in the floor.

You stood there before him, bare and beautiful. It was a glorious sight. Down right heavenly.

You took a step closer to him and skimmed the waistband of his boxers with your fingers. "Well, Bradley, fair is fair. You've seen mine, now let me see yours." You teased him. Bradley smirked at you before pushing the fabric down his thick thighs and kicking them off. You sucked in a breath. Time felt like it stopped. Both of you were there, naked and unafraid, ready to take the next step in your relationship.

"Are you sure?" Bradley whispered.

"I've never been more sure of anything else in my life." You promised him.

Bradley cupped your face in his hands before placing a tender kiss on your lips, slotting his mouth over yours, trying to pour every last ounce of adoration he had for you into it.

He broke away from you, just briefly, to sweep you up into his arms. He carried you bridal style the short distance to the bed.

Bradley gently placed you in the center of the sheets, making sure your head was propped up on the pillows. Your hair fanned out around you like a halo. How fitting, he thought.

Bradley climbed over you. His large body covering yours. He kissed you once more before dropping his lips to your jaw. He followed the line of it to the place where it met your ear.

You shuttered as he kissed there before trailing them down the column of your throat. Bradley continued his journey further south, pausing to nip and suck the tender swells of the tops of your breasts before his tongue laved the valley between them.

He took your right nippled between his lips, sucking the dusty rose colored bud into the warmth of his mouth before rolling the sensitive bud between his teeth. His left hand cupped your other one, kneading and rolling the flesh, causing you to moan for him. He pulled off of you with an audible pop before turning his attention to the other.

Each flick of his tongue against your pebbled nipple sent another rush of wetness to your core. You were so worked up, your slick running down your thighs as you rubbed them together in search of some friction to provide the tiniest bit of relief.

But Bradley wasn't having any of it.

He grabbed your hips and stilled your movements as he dragged his hot, wet tongue across your stomach and over your navel before placing a kiss right above where you wanted him most.

You parted your thighs for him, silently inviting him to take whatever he wanted from you. He nudged them even further apart before lowering his face to be level with your core.

"You're so wet for me, Angel." Bradley praised you. He was so close you could feel his hot breath fan across your center. You clenched around nothing, as you waited for him to touch you.

"Bradley—please." You whimpered, yearning for him to please you.

He chuckled before leaning forward and placing a delicate kiss on your clit. Your back arched as you nearly jumped off the bed. Bradley's large hands found your hips and pinned your down.

"Easy there, Angel. Just relax. I'll take care of you." Bradley assured you as he stroked the inner flesh of your thigh. You took a deep breath and settled yourself again.

Bradley pressed another kiss to your clit before tracing your slit with his tongue, gathering your wetness before drawing the sensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth. A breathy moan left your lips as he lapped at your core, over and over again, drawing more sounds of pleasure from you.

Your fingers flexed against the sheets, desperately seeking something to ground yourself. With a particular harsh lick of his tongue, you jolted forward and clamped your legs around Bradley's head.

He eased your thigh open, keeping them nice and wide for his broad shoulders. Your hand found purchase in his hair. You tugged on his golden curls, the blunt tips of your fingernails digging into his scalp.

He growled at the sensation before sinking two fingers into you. He curled his left hand, stroking your walls with expert fashion. He found that spongy spot inside your velvet heat with ease, and he zeroed in on it, quickly sending you towards a release.

You cried out his name in a string of melodious whines and moans, that went straight to Bradley's cock as he rutted himself against the mattress.

He knew he needed to collect himself because the beautiful sounds you were making, coupled with your devine taste, was almost enough to make him cum.

Bradley kept a steady rhythm between his fingers and his tongue, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. It was overwhelming. You tried to pull away, but Bradley slipped his free hand under you and grabbed your ass, pulling you as close has he possibly could to him, before draping his arm over your hip bones and pinning you in place.

You threw your head back into the pillows and screamed before tugging your lower lip into your mouth in an attempt to control yourself.

Bradley continued to lap at your core as you ground against his face, but as he did, he noticed something was missing. You were quiet, too quiet

Bradley looked up at you. Your lower lip was rolled between your teeth in an attempt to silence the sounds that are music to his ears.

"Angel—" He breathes out as he crawls up the bed and hovers over you. You meet his eyes as Bradley draws his thumb over your lip and frees it.

"Don't get shy on me now. I want to hear everything. I want you to sing for me again. Can you do that? Can you sing for me, pretty girl?" Bradley asks you.

You nod your head rapidly. You could do that for him. You would do anything Bradley asked of you because you wanted to be good for him.

He was so, so good to you, and you wanted to be his best girl.

So, when his lips met your eager core once more, you let out a symphony of moans, just for Bradley, his own private concert.

"Bradley, Bradley, Bradley!" You chanted his name as you tossed a leg over his shoulder and dug your heel into his back.

"Oh fuck, fuck, o gam, o gam! Olokliróno!" You shouted, slipping back into your native Greek tongue as pleasure washed over you as you came.

Your chest heaved as Bradley eased you through your high.

He climbed up next to you on the bed, grinning.

You smiled at him shyly. "I'm sorry." You laughed. "For what?" He asked you. "For switching to Greek. It's my first language, I couldn't help it." You say.

"Don't apologize. Do you know how incredibly sexy it was to hear you shout 'oh, fuck, I'm cumming,' in your native language?" Bradley smirks at you.

You look at him shocked. "How did you know what I said?" You asked him.

"I started learning the language after you told me you were Greek." Bradley tells you. Your eyes go wide. You told him that over ten months ago, before you were dating. He'd cared about you that long.

Your heart swells as you kiss him.

"If you keep it up, who knows what else you might hear me say." You tease him as you kiss him again, tasting yourself on his lips.

Bradley chuckles and easily slides his body over yours, supporting his weight on his forearms.

You can feel the thick head of his cock at your entrance. He moves one hand down and collects some of your wetness before spreading it over himself.

His eyes meet yours, one final, silent ask for permission, reassurance that this is something you want. You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him as he pushes into you, slowly.

It's a stretch. You knew it would be to take all seven and a half inches of him. But it's a good stretch. It seems like it takes an eternity before Bradley finally bottoms out, and his hips are flush with yours.

You let go of the breath you are holding and wrap your legs around him, holding him still as you adjust to his size.

Bradley is dying to move. He's willing himself to hold back, even though he wants nothing more than to rut into your tight, wet heat. He knows that it's been a while for you. He also knows how important this is for you—for both of you, and he'll be damned if he lets his primal urges fuck this up.

You wriggle your hips, adjusting on the bed. Your walls flutter around him, and Bradley can't control the stutter in his hips as he curses.

"M'sorry." He mumbles, trying to calm himself.

"It's fine, Love, you can move." You tell him. Bradley nods. He pulls back about halfway before seating himself in you again.

A groan escapes his lips as he repeats the action over and over again, pulling out more each time until he's only leaving his thick mushroom tip inside of you.

Your arms wrap around his torso as you desperately claw at his tanned skin. His thrusts are deep, deliberate. You know Bradley is searching for your gspot so he can zero in on it and have you cumming around his cock.

He leans back on his haunches and tilts your hips upwards before rutting into you again. You let out I high-pitched moan and a string of Greek, and he knows he's found it.

"Is that it? Is that the spot right there? It has to be because it had my pretty girl making those heavenly moans for me. C'mon, Baby, get loud for me." Bradley encourages you as he ruts into you harder, deeper, faster.

The head of his cock kisses your cervix before dragging along the textured roof of your walls over and over again. A symphony falls from your lips as Bradley flexes against you.

His hands grip the meat of your hips, hard enough to leave brusies, marking you like a badge of honor. Maybe you should get his fingerprints tattooed on you so you'd always have them.

"Is that way you want? Does my beautiful girl want everyone to know who she belongs to?" Bradley goads you. You didn't realize you were thinking out loud when you'd said that last part, but it was true. You wanted everyone to know that you were Bradley's, and he was yours.

"Yesyesyes!" You babbled out as you nodded your head.

Bradley's eyes darkened. He loved the idea of everyone seeing the evidence of your lovemaking. He wanted everyone to know that he was the one who got to love you, to pleasure you—to worship you. That he was the only one worthy of that honor.

Maybe—just maybe—one day, if he is lucky, he'll get you pregnant, and then their would be no denying who's girl you were. God, the idea of you round and swollen and carrying his child only added to Bradley's pleasure.

"Fuck, Angel! You feel so fucking good. Gripping me so fucking tight. I could stay buried in you for eternity. You gave me a taste, and now I'm never going to get enough." Bradley cried out as you clenched around him.

The two of you moved in a syncopated rhythm, pushing a pulling in perfect harmony. Bradley praised you as you begged him for more.

In the back of you mind, you thought that he would have wanted to fuck you into the mattress until you couldn't walk tomorrow, but he surprised you once again.

Bradley wasn't having sex with you. He was making love to you. He was showing you over and over that he cared for you with the amount of effort he was putting in.

He listened to every gasp, every hitch in your breath, in order to make this a pleasurable experience for you. He cared about what you wanted.

You lifted your hips off the bed to meet his thrusts, urging both of you to the edge. As much as you wanted to stay wrapped up in Bradley, you wanted—nay—needed for him to cum inside you. To claim you as his own. To make you his just as much as he was yours.

Bradley could tell you were close. Each time he pulled back, your pussy gripped him, as if trying to keep him in place.

Sounds of your love making bounced off the walls of your bedroom. Wrapping you and Bradley in them.

Because this wasn't just sex between the two of you, it was something more. An ethereal connection the two of you had.

Bradley had never been so in love in his life. Truly, when he thought about it, Bradley didn't think he had even been in love with anyone until he met you.

You changed the very definition of love for Bradley.

You are the most beautiful, amazing, talented person he has ever known, and he doesn't want to live one day of his life without you.

He continued to rock against you, his thighs starting the burn, and his balls tight and, aching for release, but he wouldn't allow himself to let go until he felt you coming undone around him. He needed to make you feel good. It's the only thing on his mind.

Bradley's leaned forward, bracing on his forearms, invading your space, and sharing your air.

His head dropped to the crook of your neck as he peppered kisses there before using one of his hands to trace tight circles over your clit.

You tighten around him the timing of his thrusts, and the feeling of his fingers on your neglected bundle of nerves has your head spinning, but it's too much.

You wriggle under him, trying to get away from the sensation, but you can't.

"Bradley, it's too much." You tell him, and he understands. He pulls his hand back from your core.

Instead, he grabs your left hand and laces it with his, pinning both of them over your head. You close your eyes and cry out. "Love, I'm so close! Agápi, eímai tóso kontá!" As you thrash your head from side to side.

"I know, me too, Angel. Open your eyes. Look at me. I want you to look at me when you cum." Bradley grunts out, his voice strained with pleasure.

It takes every ounce of willpower you have, but you force your eyes open and stare into his. You squeeze his left hand with your own as your orgasm washed over you.

Euphoria floods your body as you cum for Bradley, chanting his name like a sacred prayer.

Bradley cums with you, babbling your name as he spills into you, your walls clamping around him, milking him for everything he has.

He collapses on top of you, and you welcome his weight as you card your fingers through his hair. You tremble against him as he whispers praises into your skin.

You don't know how much time passed, nor do you remember dozing off. But you're startled awake when you feel a warm damp cloth between your legs.

"B—Bradley?" You stutter out, your voice still raspy with sleep as you sit up.

"Shh, Angel, go back to sleep. I just wanted to clean you up." He tells you. You give him a sleepy smile as he finishes caring for you. Bradley tosses the cloth into the hamper, and you make grabby hands for him as he walks back over to the bed. He takes you in his arms, and you curl up to him as close as you possibly can.

"I love you." You tell him as you trace lazy shapes along his torso. "I love you too, Angel." He tells you as he cards his fingers through your hair. And in that moment, Bradley decides that this is exactly what he wants for the rest of his life.

He also knows that he has to practice his Greek one more time before the morning.

............

The next morning, you wake up alone. He worried at first, but when you hear the sounds of Bradley in the kitchen, you settle.

You take your time getting up and taking a shower. You're deliciously sore from the night before, and you couldn't be happier.

Post shower, you slip on one of Bradley's UVA tees and a pair of leggings. You pull your hair into a messy bun, and make your way into the kitchen.

Hydra and Cerberus are both at Bradley's feet, no doubt waiting for him to "accidentally" drop some bacon for them. You smile at the sight.

You can't recall a time when you have been this happy.

Breakfast is slow and easy. Bradley holds your hand through the entire thing. But when you get up to put the dishes away, he stops you.

You looked at him confused. But he gives you a reassuring smile before speaking.

"Hades—Angel, before I met you, I thought I knew what love was. And I never thought it was in the cards for me. But that all changed when I met you. You showed me what it meant to love and be loved. You showed me what it means to be so in love with someone it hurts.

I have loved you since the first day I met you. Angel, S'agapó, I love you. I love you more and more each day. I the way you laugh, and the way you smile, and they way you care for others.

You are the most amazing person I have ever met. And I don't want a day of my life to go by where you aren't in it, and I may not be able to stand at an alter and do it, but it doesn't mean that I can't ask you.

So, Ángele, tha me pantrefteís? Angel, will you marry me?" Bradley finishes his speech and reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box. He opens it to reveal a beautiful diamond ring. You reach forward and gingerly touch it and instantly see that it belonged to his mother.

"Bradley— I—we—" you stutter as tears cloud your eyes.

"We can't— not really. And didn't we say marriage was just a piece of paper?" You shake your head.

"I was so wrong to say that." Bradley tells you.

"My dad died when I was a kid. And my mom never remarried. When I was old enough to understand, I asked her why, and she said that when you married someone, you promised to give someone your heart forever. She told me she had already given her heart to my dad, and she couldn't give it to anyone else again." Bradley tells you.

"I didn't really know what she meant then, but I do now. I want to give you my heart forever—however long, that is." Bradley smiles at you. Your eyes flick between him and the ring in his hand.

You knew that your marriage would never be real in the eyes of the other Gods, but you didn't care. They never cared about you anyway.

And you no longer cared about completing your quest. As long as you had Bradley, you had no desire to be immortal. He gave you purpose. For the first time in your life, he gave you a reason to live.

And maybe it didn't make sense, but it didn't matter. He was right. Marriage was a promise to give someone your heart, and even without a ring, you'd already given Bradley yours.

So, before you can think too hard about it, you look Bradley in the eyes and answer him.

"Yes."

Special shout out to @thedroneranger for the amazing moodboad!

Taglist: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @cassiemitchell @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @desert-fern @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @withahappyrefrain @lt-spork @multifandomlover4life @beccaanne814 @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @roosterisdaddy36 @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @asshlyyyy @inkandarsenic @tomanybandstolove @jiminie-08 @dingochef @laracrofted @skipchat @sunlightmurdock

#cherrycola27 #top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #tgm #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #lt. bradley bradshaw #top gun rooster #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction #tgm smut #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun 2 #false god #Spotify

[epiphyllous]

Visitation Rights (Malleus/Reader) [1/3]

Malleus invites you over to help him celebrate Christmas, a human holiday. Neither of you think about what it all means for you to visit him, in the grand scheme of things (ft. Diasomnia). word count: ~3.8k notes: malleus x reader, gender-neutral reader "you", pre-relationship, mutual pining, you celebrate Christmas, heavily Diasomnia dorm!! (i love them)

[Part 2]

You breathe out a cloud of mist as you step out from the Dark Mirror and into an open field. You’ve been visualizing this very scenery as best as you could, chanting Briar Valley over and over, just to make sure you didn’t end up in the wrong place and get stranded.

You’re glad you decided to layer up as best as you could, heeding Malleus’ lukewarm warning that it ‘might’ be cold. And considering how much hardier a fae could be, well… You’re just glad to be able to use your winter boots and mittens for once. Though, your hands are cold for more reasons other than the temperature. 

One doesn’t visit the fae prince in his homeland without being at least a little nervous. (And one that you may have budding feelings for is another matter entirely.)

Malleus seemed eager to have you over to decorate his home for the holidays, excited to celebrate a ‘human’ tradition like Christmas. (And by eager, you mean insistent; and by excited, you mean, only to you. You doubt any of your other friends would understand his volley of questions about Christmas was Malleus being ready to celebrate.) You didn’t have the heart to tell him that your family hasn’t celebrated in years either aside from a few gift exchanges and holiday foods, but you suppose it isn’t like you’ve forgotten how to decorate a tree or make a few paper snowflakes. 

It’s only when you walk down the snow-lain path and lay your eyes on a grand stone castle that you remember that you really have other things to worry about besides the topping of the Christmas tree. Like being in a castle, for one. 

(You find it easy to treat Malleus like any other person because school is an equalizer in status. You don't see the fae prince at Night Raven College; you just see Malleus: technologically challenged, secretly needy, adorably curious, and deeply devoted. It is why you find it so difficult to remember who he is outside of campus.)

“What are you standing there gaping like a fish for, human?” Sebek asks, walking up to you with Silver beside him. 

You keep your mouth open. “I forgot the castle was huge,” you say lamely. 

“I don’t think the young master wants to decorate the entire place,” Silver says, saving you from saying what you actually meant– you forgot Malleus lived in a castle. (The amount of times you feel blindsided by a fact that is readily known to everyone– Malleus is a prince– is astonishing.) “Perhaps the dining room and a hallway.”

“...Right,” you settle for saying, glancing over at him. “Oh! Sebek!” You grins at him. “You’re in uniform! Very guardsman of you. Reminds me of the nutcracker outfit.” 

Sebek huffs, and you mildly think he’s like a peacock, preening. “Of course. One cannot slack on his duties as a guardsman on holiday” he says, looking over at Silver with triumph. 

Silver only sighs. “The young master requested we put on… holiday clothing. He didn’t have any examples, so I decided to just dress for the weather.”

“You look good in the blue sweater,” You say easily. “If you wanted to make it a ‘holiday sweater’ you just have to make it uglier somehow.”

“...Uglier?”

“Why are we just standing here?” Sebek interjects, and you can only sheepishly smile at him. “The young master will be waiting for us to return! Let’s not waste another moment!”

And off you go into a wintry wonderland.

.

In a land of fae, humans are rarely seen. A few decades can be nothing more than a blip in the long lives that they lead, which is why when Silver walks through the gates of the Fairy castle, some guards still stare at him with undisguised curiosity. As both a human and as a man endowed with a unique set of eyes and hair, his presence as the fae prince’s guardman gives him no break in scrutiny even though almost twenty years have passed. 

Considering the attention that Silver gets until now, it is no wonder that you draw the eyes of everyone in the near vicinity, especially as you walk through the castle as the fae prince’s esteemed guest. Are you royalty? Do you have any fae blood in you? Are you a powerful mage? (Perhaps someday.) It is the absence of all these, to make you completely normal, that makes you all the more curious to see.

You walk in between Silver and Sebek and pretend to not know they are watching.

“I’ve been wondering,” you say, as you walk past the main hall, “is the queen- erm, is Malleus’ grandma home?”

You almost bump into Silver the way he stops abruptly to turn and look at her. “You-” Silver gapes at her, and it’s the most visibly surprised you have ever seen him. “You want to meet the queen?”

“Malleus’ grandma,” you insist. “If she’s not home, it’s fine. I just thought it would be weird if she was home and I didn’t stop by and say ‘hi.’” You frown when Silver just continues to stare and wonders if you’ve gotten the family tree wrong.

…Or maybe it’s one of those things where it’s different because Malleus is royalty. 

“No? Is it weirder if I did meet her?” You continue, starting to get nervous at the silence from even Sebek. “Is she busy? I just don’t want her to think I’m being rude if I don’t come to greet her at least.” 

“Human, calm yourself,” Sebek says, huffing. If he looks partially impressed, he doesn’t say anything. “On most occasions, a visit to the castle would warrant an audience with the queen.”

“But she’s not here right now,” Silver says. He cracks a smile. “I should know better now than to be surprised you’re not afraid of meeting the Queen of Briar Valley.” 

“I never said I wouldn’t be,” you mutter. “I’d rather meet her than have her think I’m some delinquent student with no manners meeting her grandson.”

If Silver had any thoughts to share on this matter– that you were ridiculous for worrying over something like that instead of the possibility of offending a powerful queen– he didn’t share them. Instead, he watches you step into the dining hall repurposed for this holiday. “The young master told the guards to fetch the largest pine in the area,” he explains, amused at your evident shock. “So they did.”

“This is a three-day project,” he hears you say absently. Silver looks at the deep green pine that towers over them in a ten-meter loom and feels oddly proud for finding it. Sebek hasn’t stopped glaring at him for the past week for it.

.

Malleus is giddy. It is a word ill-befitting of his appearance and status, but there is no other explanation for his actions. 

Fae are not known to fatigue easily, but Malleus has not felt the need to sleep ever since you last told him that you were able to come to Briar Valley. Since then, he’s collected every appropriate ornament he could procure from human markets that celebrate Christmas– from stars to snow globes to these human-esque figurines they call ‘angels.’ For a holiday dinner, he asked Lilia for recipes (dubious) and mostly took long hours online trying to find some more. And if he’ll be honest, that’s the one part of his quest that has taken him the most time, as inept as he is with modern technology such as the internet or the smartphone. 

He is getting better with how prolific his friends text him, but it still takes him the same amount for him to write one message back to you as it does for you to write ten. He finds that he does not mind that much though; he likes knowing that you enjoy his company to write to him as much as you do.

Oddly enough, even though he knows this, he finds himself… nervous when he’s been informed that you have arrived.

It will be his first time playing host to a guest, among others. Certainly, he’s had political guests from nearby lands; princesses, princes, and counts that he has had no choice but to memorize their names. But this is you: his friend, his underclassman, his– well, your presence definitely meant a lot more to him than any dignitary from a wealthy family. 

Malleus wants you to enjoy your time here.

He walks to the dining room where he can hear your voice rise in excitement, and the anxiety bleeds out in favor of the thought that he would see you again. The sight of the real you in front of him is better than any other image he could have conjured. 

“Malleus!” He hears you call out, and his smile follows after yours like the tide to the moon. 

.

You look at the lines of boxes of decor that Malleus has brought into the dining room with a brief thought that all of these must have cost a fortune. 

“Did you just find whatever you could about Christmas?” You ask, as a joke.

Malleus only nods. “Yes,” he says simply. “Do they suit the needs for our decorations?”

You find it hard to think anyone in the world who celebrates Christmas would be remiss with all the different types of decor that was in the room in neat boxes. Taking out one from the pile, you open it and do not bother suppressing a smile when Malleus, Silver, and Sebek, who cannot resist his own curiosity despite his aversion, peek over your shoulders to see what is inside. 

There is garland for miles, light fixtures for the tree and elsewhere, snow globes and socks to hang over the fireplace. Ornaments to hang on the tree, banners and wreaths to hang on walls and doors, and even figurines like nutcrackers and reindeer to place on a mantel. If there was ever a decoration to be used in Christmas, they are there in one of the many boxes that have been collected. 

You would have thought it would be overwhelming to deal with so many choices, but instead, you find yourself excited at the prospect of having the creative liberty to choose from a wide variety of decor. It helps that Malleus’ eyes are attentively taking in every single material you have pulled out, and that even Silver and Sebek are arguing about what decoration should be placed and in what order. 

“I think we can start with the tree first…” you say. “I think it’s the main event, so I figured we could do it since we’re all decorating it together.”

“Hmph, since you are the more knowledgeable one for this holiday, I will allow you to call the shots for today,” Sebek says, and you gleefully think that’s more than enough of a concession from Sebek than you could ever ask for. 

“Alright, so I think we should start at the top going down with decorations,” you list off thoughtfully, “do bigger decor, lights, then the ornaments…” 

.

It is not as difficult to decorate the tree as you would have thought. For one, as much as Sebek and Silver bicker (mostly Sebek), they work well together because they are simply competent in what they set out to do. There was a fuss as to what garland should be placed on, but considering the size of the tree, it wouldn’t have mattered if everything was piled on. 

As the two flew around the tree to place the garland on, you work on untangling the Christmas lights from their boxes, which seems to be a difficulty even with magic involved. 

“Urgh…” You huff, dropping your arms in exhaustion from carrying what feels to be tons of lights. “No matter how well I packed them, even at home, they always end up all messed up like this.” 

“Yes, these… wires seem susceptible to being entwined,” Malleus agrees. “And you say that they are supposed to be lit up based on… electricity?” 

“Not too much,” you reply. “Or else you fry the light bulb’s circuit. See that tiny wire in the middle of it all?” You smile when Malleus bends down and peers closer at the Christmas light in your palm even though his hands are full of them. “We’ll want to connect it to an outlet with enough amps to power them without-” 

Your eyes widen. “Wait, you don’t have any outlets, do you? You always use magic! I can’t believe I forgot-”

Malleus takes a gloved hand and places it on the metallic prongs on the end of the wires, and the Christmas lights turn on. 

“I see what you mean by not putting too much power into it,” Malleus comments, as though you aren't looking at him with a look even brighter than the lights. 

.

“My, my,” Lilia says, whistling as he enters the dining hall. He looks at the tree which is partially decorated with garland and lights and nods in approval. “It seems the four of you are having fun. How’s the progress?”

“It’s… going,” you say mildly. “We’re going to put the ornaments on soon, but I think we’re a little stuck on what theme we should be going for?” 

Lilia blinks. “Whatever do you mean? It looks fine to me so far.”

“I know, but we’re arguing on what to put as a topper since that’ll finish the look, so-”

“Obviously,” Sebek says, “a statue of the young master should be on top.”

“And how would we get that?” Silver replies, voice even with the familiarity of arguing with Sebek. “We have other things we can choose from. We have a star,” a golden one, “an… angel,” with wings and halo, “this snowman,” with a top hat, “or this… old man with a red and white suit.” 

“That’s Santa,” you pop up. “We usually tell the kids in our town that he would bring presents on a magical sleigh pulled by a few reindeer, and he would climb down the chimney to drop the presents off underneath the tree.”

“How would he fit down each chimney?” Malleus asks, hand propped on his chin thoughtfully. “What if the house has no chimney?” 

“Well-”

“That is besides the point!” Sebek says fervently as you grins at him sheepishly. “If we place a symbol of the young master on top of the tree, the decor should be green!”

“Green on a green tree?” Silver sighs. “I’m not an interior designer but that won’t be as eye-popping as red or even silver and gold.”

“Sounds like quite the conundrum,” Lilia says lightly. If he is amused by how passionate the two guardsmen are over decorations for a human holiday they discovered not two weeks ago, he does not show it. “What does Malleus think?”

The four of them look toward Malleus who blinks at the attention. “How about a star on top? The decorations can be of any color, size, or shape as a result.”

Lilia claps his hands. “That’s settled.”

“Well, actually…” You say, trailing when the four Diasomnia members look at you. You bring up four different kinds of star toppers, much to half of their horror and to Lilia’s glee. “Which star do we want then?”

.

Malleus watches as you sit down in a huff next to him on the couch they dragged closer to the fireplace. You stretch your arms, saying something about snack-time as you both wait for Sebek, Silver, and Lilia to come back with much needed drinks and food for your break. Your shoulder and thigh end up touching his, and he finds that despite the fact they have plenty of room on the couch to be a distance from each other, he deigns not to mention it in case you decide to move away.

“Who knew Sebek and Silver would get so excited over ornaments,” you comment, laughter in your voice. It’s teasing when you address him, “They’re almost as excited as you to decorate the whole place up.”

There is always a funny feeling in his chest whenever you tease him– a mix of embarrassment and happiness to be known well enough to be spoken to so familiarly. He has yet to learn how to deliver a similar response back as readily as you do, but he is beginning to learn wherever he can. Besides, you don't seem to mind his straightforward comments.

“Yes, it is quite a surprise to me too. But I suppose it is hard not to be,” Malleus says, “when we have someone such as you to encourage and guide us.” He’s gratified when he sees you hide a pleased smile behind your hand. 

“Oh, stop,” you say, laughing, and he’s learned to understand that he’s welcome to continue his praise any time. “I’m so glad you decided to invite me to celebrate with you. This is the funnest I’ve had decorating for Christmas in ages.” You go to admire the tree and he turns to watch with you, only for him to look back briefly when he feels you lean into him, eyes still looking forward. 

He lets you lean, a small smile on his face.

.

Malleus knows that Silver and Sebek may sometimes have their qualms with his human choice of close companionship, but he feels grateful to know that they have your back in the face of Lilia’s cooking. 

You insist that you should try just a tiny bite, just to see what all the fuss is about, but all three of them are adamant about keeping you in the dark about the horror that lies behind Lilia’s gastronomy skills. Lilia is mildly confused but more than welcome to give more to the rest of the Diasomnia dorm if they are so eager to take your portion. Sebek blanches but stays true to his resolve, and even Silver, who looks tempted to fall asleep on the spot (or even pretend to if he cannot induce it) furrows his brows and bears it. 

Malleus should have known better than to think he would ever be able to stop you from doing what you want to do. 

You take a bite out of the gingersnap cookie faster than any of them can react. The four of them stare (three in apprehension, one in anticipation). You stop chewing after the third time and open your mouth. 

“Lilia… What did you put in this?”

“Oh, ginger, of course.” 

“...Anything else?” 

“...and garlic, all spice, honey, turmeric-” 

“I thought this was gingersnap?!”

You swallow your piece and take another just to be polite, but you and Lilia end up talking about the concept of a “balanced diet” and how not each dish has to be balanced to achieve a balanced diet. They aren’t sure if Lilia will get it, but perhaps an outsider’s opinion will finally change things for the better around here– and this thought is coming from even Sebek. 

Lilia seems thoughtful, not offended at all by the way you are framing the situation, talking about masking the aroma of the original dish by throwing in too many ingredients. When Lilia decides to try changing his style of cooking, they think perhaps the human legend of a Christmas miracle is real.

Change is not instant, unfortunately.

The other three, while Lilia is distracted, quietly slide their large portion of cookies to the serving plate and hope no one but them notices.

.

You don’t quite finish the tree that day, much to Sebek’s dismay. Your reassurance that you thought it would take more than three days goes unheeded as Sebek vows to complete the tree spectacularly tomorrow. 

Dinner at the Fairy Castle is a much quieter affair than you anticipated, but then again, your image of a castle is immensely more fairytale than what it seems to be. The five of them eat dinner deliciously set out by the chef, and the food, at least, is exactly how you imagined it to be. 

When Silver and Sebek turn in for the night, Lilia and Malleus show you to your room, and it's much bigger than any bedroom of yours have any right to be. The bed is a queen-size or king-size bed, though you can hardly tell the difference besides the fact it can fit more than four of you onto one. The view from the window is astonishingly grand, and the stars are clearly visible from this height even without a telescope.

Lilia bids you good night and it is just the two of you left in the room. You can feel your eyes drooping but you smile sleepily at Malleus who lingers at the door. "You wanna watch the stars before I fall asleep?" You ask and like clockwork, the two of you end up sitting by the windowsill, pointing at the constellations you can identify. 

Malleus, of course, knows much more than you do, having seen the same set of stars for the past century. You don't give up though, pointing out the other planets, hoping you actually remember the placement of them. It isn't long until you have him creating different constellations with you, playing connect the dots with much more celestial parts. In some ways, this is familiar— the way you guide Malleus through a silly detour to expand the way he looks at things.

"And there," you say, aligning the stars, "is the broom Azul keeps falling off during P.E."

"Is that so?" Malleus says in amusement. "How can you differentiate between brooms in the night sky?"

And this too– Malleus indulging in your sense of humor, playing along to the very end- has become a very familiar thing. He looks over to you with a focus that goes unnoticed as your eyes flutter in drowsiness. 

You can still giggle though. "It's because it's upright," you say, laughing at your own joke. 

Malleus likes this side of you too, partly delirious from sleepiness, inhibitions stripped by the presence of the dark and the way a day of hard work seeps into your bones. He thinks it's about time for you to fall asleep, though he would not mind staying up all night with you. “Are you falling asleep?” He asks, letting you lean onto him.

“I guess so,” you reply, yawning. You rub your eyes. “I’ll get in bed before I snooze on you.” You smile at him, and he only just resists telling you that he would be more than happy to lend his shoulder for you to sleep on. 

Perhaps another night.

“Good night, child of man,” Malleus says, watching you snuggle into a bed that more than dwarfs your figure. He hears you mumble a ‘good night’ and it is not long until you fall asleep.

You trust him to sleep in his presence; every time this happens, Malleus is still in awe. Your chest rises steadily with each breath you take, and Malleus takes his hand to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. He wishes you sweet dreams and makes the room dark.

Christmas is approaching. 

#malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst x reader #malleus draconia #twst #look at them..... i love them..... #ive never been so excited for christmas LMAO #yeah im 3 months early but its a 3 part thing so #edit: AHHHH TYPOS u didnt see anything

[marvelous-llama]

ATEEZ recs

<<original book

most of the mentioned works is 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI

pls don´t hesitate to hmu, if any of mentioned links doesn´t work or you have suggestions for more fics... thank you so much for all the love and comments

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Yunho x fem!reader (wc - 6.4k) ons, coworkers to lovers, CEO x secretary AU - fluff, angst, smut We had a one-night stand thinking we’d never see each other again but you showed up as my boss okay what the hell part 1, part 2

summer nights & summer´s end by @honeyhotteoks

Yunho x fem!reader (wc - 8.5k + 7.7k) quarantine AU, best friends/roommates to lovers, university AU - fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, crack, smut he's your best friend and roommate, but during the heat of summer and the confinement of quarantine, you just can't seem to help yourselves.

we all need love by @yunholuvrr

Yunho x fem!reader workplace AU - fluff, smut, angst, hurt/comfort you just finished your junior year of college, snagging an unbelievable summer internship in seoul. But after your supervisor and his friends invite you into their circle with open arms, your heart gets caught between a rock and a hard place named yunho. you don't think you can get through these 12 weeks without someone's feelings getting hurt.

Eyes Don´t Lie by @seonghwaddict

Yunho x fem!reader academic rivals to lovers, slice of life - angst, smut you've always resented jeong yunho, and you were positive that the end of high school would've marked the end of your rivalry and hatred. yet now you find yourself in the same crappy hotel as him. assigned to be right next to each other much like the good old times.

Unprofessional Attraction by @jk97

Yunho x fem!reader (wc - 13k, 18.2k) university AU, teacher/student relationship, forbidden love, pining - angst, fluff, smut, romance There's no such thing as a coincidence, right? CollegeSenior!Reader (22) and linguistics teacher Yunho Jeong (27) indulge in an entanglement of inappropriate gravitation. It's risky and it's wrong, but listening to one's better judgment never leads to anything as intoxicating. When someone threatens this secret relationship with blackmail to expose the truth, things take a turn for the worse. Graduation can't seem to come fast enough. part 1, part 2

The Cat and Dog Game by @makeitmingi

Yunho x fem!reader coworkers to lovers, chef!reader - fluff, crack, romance, hurt/comfort Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

project: make you love me by @hwaslayer

Yunho x fem!reader, Seonghwa x fem!reader strangers to lovers, university AU - fluff, angst, smut yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez recs #jeong yunho #yunho #yunho x reader

[callsignspark]

Hello, yes. It’s me.

Tell me more about the frat boy Bob college AU!

this is one of my favorite AUs I have bubbling in my brain because frat boy Bob? he’s a sexy sweetheart 🤤 also this is like 80% @withahappyrefrain’s fault because she’s the one I originally word vomited this onto

it all started sometime last January when Rainey posted that photo of him on his birthday and his keys were in the photo, a gym membership tag on the chain. (and it’s a crime I can’t find it rn omg) but it really cemented my favorite thing about Lewis. which is how he’s so “just a guy” all the time. famous dad? just some guy with a gym membership tag on his keys. second tier character in 2022’s biggest movie? just some guy who does theater in his spare time. he has two hats, and three shirts, and one pair of boots. I like him so much because he’s Just Some Guy™ - just a simple man. I adore that about him. having said all that: I present my frat boy college!Bob AU

Bob feels like someone you would have gone to college with, had a huge crush on for all four years, then forget about after graduation. But not without a lot of work to stop those feelings and pining, but eventually, a few years later he floats away. Except for those few times he appears on a mutual friend’s social media. And every time you see him on social media, the crush reignites. Just a little tiny bit.

One day you run into him randomly and find out he’s moved to your city. He doesn’t know anyone else and you exchange numbers, you learn he actually did you know in school. He actually had a crush but didn’t do anything about it and would you like to go out now?

Because Bob was the cool nerd in school. Like he’s quiet and shy, so studious and freaking brilliant. But he’s also in a frat somehow and on the baseball team at a school that doesn’t care about baseball. So he’s absolutely in shape and at the gym in his free time but no one ever notices how big his biceps and how handsome and funny is his because they’re staring at the football players.

But our leading lady notices him.

She likes the quiet guy from her creative writing class (an elective for both of them) who has the same backwards baseball cap on every time she sees him at the gym. Bob also notices her at the gym when he goes in the evenings for him team workout. His morning workout is rowing in the river in town, and if the dock where he likes to start his mornings happens to go by the apartment building where his pretty classmate likes to do homework on her balcony while the sunrises? Well that’s just a bonus.

She’s part of the school’s dance ensemble club (a relaxed, just for fun, non-performance version of the dance team) and he loves the glimpses he gets of her through the studio door. Her smile is always so wide and bright as she moves to the music in the little studio. The studio which is conveniently next to the weight section he always ends his workouts in. They frequently end up leaving the gym at the same time and always give each other polite smiles. He eventually gets brave enough to open the door for her and it becomes a little tradition that he quick walks ahead to grab it for her. Eventually they get up to exchanging “thank you” and “have a good night” and smiles but they never talk more than that.

Cue graduation and real world starting. And bam then they’re running into each other at a gym. As he’s finishing his last cool down stuff he notices a familiar head and watches as she walks out of a barre class. He scrambles to open the door for her - his established way of flirting!!! - and our story begins. There’s nothing sexier than a courteous man. Especially one that has sweaty little curls poking out the sides of his hat!! And once they tumble into bed she finds out how much sexier those sweaty curls are when she’s the cause of them.

#he’s sweet and sexy and he likes when those curls are yanked on 👀 #robert bob floyd #wip game #<- kinda it’s my wip tag

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

i dont ship stizzy but i cant deny the comedic potential in making their dynamic into something romantic. these two incredibly dramatic gay men hate each other on sight for no fucking reason and are incredibly petty no holds barred. izzy slashed up stede's shirt in a slutty way for no reason. stede called him iggy for no reason. and like this all happens before ed there's no reason for it they just fucking hate each other!!!

so anyway the dynamic here is obviously that they start hate fucking at some point and then fall in love on accident and obviously they're both SO MAD about it (shoutout to this post by @notebooks-and-laptops). but also once they realize their own feelings they also realize it's MUTUAL. minimal angst there imo i dont see angsty pining for stede and izzy sorry. they probably realize because stede stede calls izzy darling in bed one time and izzy moans to it really loud and then suddenly instead of hate fucking it's slow passionate and they're making love and right after that theyre both staring up at the ceiling like. fuck. fuck. i cannot believe im in love with this prick. this is the worst day of my life.

which leads to "i-love-you" chicken where neither of them say it. not because theyre afraid to but bc they don't want to lose. like they dont talk about it but it becomes clear that whoever admits that they genuinely care about the other first loses. lose what? idk their dignity. bragging rights. cannot stress enough how much this happens without them verbally communicating abt it they just KNOW and they know that the other one knows and they’re both trying so hard not to say it but also trying to get the other one to say it first

so they try to aggressively woo the other one with like over-the-top romantic gestures (gifts and acts of service or whatever idk i dont care enough abt this ship to think of examples). and whenever like stede is trying to woo izzy all he gets is izzy being like “fuck off bonnet” and a huge prick and vice versa for when izzy tries to woo stede (idk what either of them do to woo each other and i don’t care enough abt this ship to think of anything sorry). and the crew is like “i thought stede and izzy were past this silly squabbling”

and idk maybe this is steddyhands in which case the crew is asking ed “doesnt it bother you that theyre at each other’s throats again?” and ed (who’s been having the time of his life watching the two of them have incredibly passionate and romantic but also angry and competitive sex for weeks) is like. oh im sure they’ll work through this little spat in no time.

in my head izzy breaks first when stede gets severely wounded in a raid and while he’s unconscious and healing izzy is like “you piece of shit i love you so much you cant die now” and THAT’S when stede wakes up and is like “HA!!! YOU ADMITTED IT FIRST!!!!! I WIN!!!!!!!!!!” and he rips his stitches from laughing so hard and roach has to sew him up again before he bleeds out

#ofmd #our flag means death #our flag means gay #steddyhands #stizzy #izzy hands #stede bonnet #stede fucking bonnet #dizzy izzy #og #mine #txt #my fic #this is like the fic i would write if i didn’t dislike izzy so much #he is fun to think about. i have made a lot of posts about him. said a lot of words about him #however. i simply do not like him sorry. he is a fictional character and i laugh when bad things happen to him #because he’s not real. he’s an antagonist. i also laughed when bad things happened to jack and the badmintons yknow #anyway notebooks-and-laptops i hope u don’t mind me tagging u but ur post was so funny and like half the inspiration for this

[nyanggk]

PLEASE READ !

hey guys! I know I've been ia for most of the year til now but it has been brought to my attention that an anon is spreading false accusations about me.

around a month ago or so, a rude anon sent me an ask. they were screaming in my inbox calling me names and telling me to delete 20 days before heaven.

(I blocked them but tumblr bugged and these 2 asks stayed in my notifs however they are not in my ask box anymore. i can't show u the whole ask for obv reasons. obv reason being that I blocked it as I didn't think they would come stalking me a month later)

as you all know, I've been under fire because of immature and unreasonable anons before so I've made it a point to block any anon ask that seemed like hate speech— regardless of what they're saying. I didn't answer them because they were being rude and I believe that I have already addressed this matter MONTHS ago.

this comment is an example. posted aug 6, 2022 a few days or a week after 20 days before heaven was posted.

i thought it ended there, however, just a few days ago while i was on vacation, i recieved a tumblr dm from the kflixnet admins. turns out, they have sent asks to the kflixnet admins telling them to reach out to me, tell me to delete the fic and/or kick me out of the network. good thing that kflixnet admins sent me a dm first so we were able to resolve the situation. I'm not sure what they did next to the ask (if they ignored it, answered it, etc)

though they've said that they want to address this matter privately— stated in their message towards the kflixnet admins, they have been sending immature asks towards my moots. though it is censored, it is clearly me they are talking about based off of the amount of letters and the k at the end.

once again, I'm thankful because none of my moots (as far as I know) believe this bs and didn't even bother answering

officially, I want to reiterate that I do not know about honor in the rains story. I have never had a wattpad account back then aside from a few months ago when genie (end-hypen) recommended me a jungwon fic on wattpad and read it, however besides that, I have not used wattpad at all and I did not plagiarise honor in the rain's in 27 days.

i gave the story a quick read and did notice similarities, however, besides death giving mc the chance to revive someone— which in itself is a common plot in regards to time traveling stories, my story stems out from that.

I hope you realize that not everyone lives the same life you do. people can not have a wattpad account and can be unaware of what you're saying so don't come screaming rude bullshit in my dms claiming that I plagiarised something and expect me to respond to you. note, I'm not saying I didn't hear abt wattpad back then, all I'm saying is that I've never dl-ed it (had to explain because God forbid you ppl twist my words again and start assuming)

though I've read the story, I'm not sorry to say but I will not be putting an "inspired by" or "based off of" in my notes because that would be lying, nor am I going to delete this fic because honestly, what the fuck is wrong with you people. deleting a fic isn't the answer to anything.

examples are; (1) in that story, the fem lead and male lead didn't know eo initially and tbh, she had absolutely no reason to save him and go through all that trouble for someone she didnt even no aside for the reason that she can save a life, while mine already had mutual pining.

(2) they (in 24 days) actually went through 24 days with eo while trying to convince him that killing himself isn't the answer. mine was more about the butterfly effect and how a simple kindness/concern shown towards others can make a huge impact on how their lives steer. heeseung was supposed to confess to reader but got stopped due to bullying and his life spiraled downwards. the bullying mixed with his personal problems were what drove him to initially take his life on his birthday.

(3) there's no monster trying to harm them— though they thought that there was.

(4) heeseung doesn't work at some cafe run by his parents, (5) he's not emo, (6) and he's certainly in love with the fem lead from the get go. if you read the story then you would've known.

please leave me and my moots the fuck alone. you make tumblr a worse platform than twitter.

sorry for the notif but I'll be tagging some of my moots to help spread the issue and to also let them know what's happening in the case that someone also sent them an ask in regards to this situation

@end-hyphen @forjongseong @bruh-changbin @chiyuv @1800-jaeyun @enha-cafe @enha-doodles @donghoonie-3 @evermorehoon @heetro @jayked @mimikittysblog @palajae @rikismiel @svnoohe4rts

ik it's prolly been a hot while since I've talked to u guys and I'm sorry that this had to be one of the first things u see by me in a long while 🙏

#the tags are for exposure only #enhypen heeseung angst #important!

[daisychainsandbowties]

ummmm thoughts on x files warrior nun au?

(i have an ask buried down here in which someone else has a MUCH better idea than this & i’ll throw that out in a sec but for my 2 cents)

i think it’s obvious that nobody on planet earth or beyond has quite as much Mulder energy as Ava fucking Silva

i’ve always figured Ava would be a space nerd but also specifically into cryptozoology and astrobiology as like… interesting thought experiments & also just annoying the nuns with ‘yeah so personally i think jesus christ was a space alien.’

grown-up Ava crammed into a filing-cabinet-sized room at where the FBI live (i’m european) & like… she has a parking space but has never heard of business casual. rolls up to the office with starbucks wearing a shirt that says ‘i was abducted by aliens and all i got was [redacted]’. they call her Spooky Silva (😌 yes like spooky mulder it fits her better honestly) she spends all day reading old casefiles and snacking on pistachios.

BUT listen before we move on to the Scully of it all there’s Lilith. i think we can all agree this is a prime opportunity for my favourite dish which is ‘established avalil.’ 👀

picture Ava crammed in her tiny office but with Lilith (aka ‘the she-devil’) Villaumbrosia. they’re both the laughing-stock of the FBI (their nicknames make them sound like a band lmao if’s Spooky Silva and The She-Devil)

but while Ava is the one who responds to ‘you’re the worst agent i’ve ever heard of’ with *sips drink* ‘but you HAVE heard of me’, Lilith will literally just go and key your car in full view of the security cameras. together they’re a huge embarassment but also occasionally they crack cases that nobody else can (ava: ‘it’s called having an open mind’) so they’re grudgingly tolerated. deeply homerotic work-wives.

and in comes beatrice. physics-major-turned-MD, sent to topple the disaster avalil jenga tower. she’s got the MOST scully vibes tbh. that wry humour & also the dose of suspicion/🙄 that scully brings to the table. bewildered by ava & weird with lilith. like just picture the three of them on road trips. lilith who hates all music and ava who likes all music and bea sitting through the fourth consecutive argument about where they should stop for lunch. but like… she grows to love them. literally can’t help herself. the intimacy of that scene from the antarctic episode where scully takes her shirt off so mulder can check if she’s got the Ice Virus 🫠 but with all three of them. crying just contemplating

this leading into the Scully-brand ‘yes i will hold a government official at gunpoint because they kidnapped ava’. the ‘i live and die for you (two)’ of the mulder/scully whatever-the-fuck. the season 2 mutual pining of it all.

Ava pointing to her ‘the truth is out there’ poster and pretending it automatically wins every argument. honesly bea as a trained medical doctor 😳 the potential for a good old ‘one character bleeding everywhere & one freaking out & the other like Trying not to also freak out bc goddamn it kirk i’m genuinely a doctor.’

but YES basically 🥰 a million and one hearts and kisses to the x files au

#wn x files au #me @ everything: hmm what if it was about ava x lilith x beatrice? #me realising my obsession with mulder and with ava forms a Pattern #idk send me a prompt and mayhaps i will write something for this #anon