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lacollectionneuse1967 · 5 months

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remembering you

Theseus Scamander x Reader

summary: the year is 1916 and you live with your family near the western front in france. after a chance encounter with a wizard soldier during the war, you don't think you'll ever see him again, although you're sure you'll always remember him.

nine years later, you find that the man not only works with you at the ministry, but he also happens to be the annoying auror who keeps accidentally sending interdepartmental memos to your desk. you develop a friendly, albeit anonymous, banter through sending each other notes, but the question remains--does he know who you are? and, if he does, does he remember you?

fem!reader. theseus scamander x reader.

category: office romance. smut with plot.

warnings: 18+ smut scene. unprotected penetration. oral sex (fem receiving). dirty talk. mdom/femsub. fyi he begs for it.

author's note: i am not an expert on the wizarding world nor am i an expert on wwi / world history! with respect, i do not claim to be. this is a work of fanfiction.

1916, Northern France

How strange it was, being at home when it no longer felt like home.

Your memories from childhood were precious and few, almost unreal. It was uncanny to be back with your father at that small, unchanging farmhouse on the far outskirts of Verdun. Your school waited until the last possible minute to send its students home, as they would have been sending many students home to die.

The perpetual afternoon, summery quiet of the countryside that you were so used to took on a disconcerting edge, an unspoken terror. This was the silence of a stalemate, of a breath being held. Not far from here lay the trenches and, beyond that, the Germans.

The flat, low-slung lines of Meuse were an additional shock to you. You'd spent the last five years of your life in the high, rocky mountains of the Pyrenees, at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.

The river-run grasslands around you now had a vacant, exposed quality to them, the trees bare of birds, the squat buildings in town possessing the hollowed-out feel of an abandoned amusement park.

Even before the soldiers came you'd felt like a sitting duck.

Your sister's scream was the first noise to break the deadlock silence of the night.

You run from the windowsill without looking back. Smoke smell pricks your nostrils.

Your front door is swinging frenetically on its squealing hinges, left open, gapingly and awfully so. There are three uniformed men in boots, heavy gear, standing in your living room, looking around your small, low-ceilinged house with barely concealed reproach on their faces.

The wooden floors creak weakly underfoot. Through the doorframe you can make out some distant fires burning, you can't see them but you can smell them.

The sharp, whistling sound of war planes tears through the air.

"Parlez-vous anglais?" One of the men says in mangled French. He's redheaded, maybe in his early forties. There's black soot on his face which makes his irises look so light blue they're nearly white. "English. Anyone speak English?"

Your younger sister cowers at the booming cadence of his voice, she doesn't speak English. One of her bare feet takes a step back.

So they're English soldiers at least, but you don't recognize their uniforms. The redheaded one is brandishing a wand. But that can't be...

"[Your sister's name]," your father is too sick to rise from his chair, but he beckons to your sister, feebly, calling her away from the door in French. "Please, darling. It's okay, he's a soldier."

"There are no wizard soldiers," you step forward, placing yourself between the men and your family members. They look to you in plain surprise. Your English is unaccented. "The British and French Ministries of Magic abandoned us, forbade any wizard from involvement in-"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

Your gaze shoots to the man who spoke.

He looks young. He has a long face and short-cut, curly brown hair. Handsome but not roguishly, not like a soldier ought to be. Handsome in an upright, gentlemanly way, the kind of face that exudes goodness and inspires trust. He almost seems out of place in his uniform, dressed for combat.

"What do you want?" you ask warily.

The third, sunken-eyed man gawks and lets out an incredulous sneer.

"Ungrateful little-"

"Quiet, it's fine," the brown-haired man says, silencing his comrade before turning to you. "We're here to evacuate all magical families in the area. We've received prophetic intel that invasion is imminent, the battle will begin moments from now and will span months. Hundreds of thousands will die. Pack your family's things."

Your brother lets out a noise of trepidation, turning to your father.

Your father--paler every day, made older by his illness, slumped over in his chair. He could not even make it out to the front garden, nevertheless survive an evacuation. His eyes are twinkling acutely, buried like gems in his wrinkled, ruined face.

"Come on!" Says the redheaded man in frustration. His blackened, ash-covered face is frightening to your siblings, as is his anger.

He pulls the man standing in the back towards him roughly by the shoulder to hiss in his ear.

"I'd understand if it was an estate that had been in their family for centuries, some of the pure-blood families that we…" For a moment his whispers are unintelligible, but you make out the last words well enough. "But this little farm?"

"Little farm?!" You step forward again, bristling. "This is our home. Can't you understand wanting the dignity of dying in your own home?"

The handsome one looks sharply to your father in his chair then. It is like he is seeing him clearly for the first time, you can see it click in his mind.

"Your father is a Muggle..." he says sympathetically.

"And he is sick. He won't survive apparition. Besides," you protest. "The Germans haven't broken the line since the Battle of the Marne."

The other two soldiers are stilled in shock, aghast at the fact of you, a young girl, arguing with them at all.

"Please," you entreat them. "There's been no movement. This is trench warfare, sir. They won't-"

"They will," the redheaded soldier's voice is grave, uncompromising. "Tonight, tomorrow. I don't know when, but the Germans intend to bleed the French white. They will break the line at Verdun. It is certain."

If what they said was true, if there was a prophecy....

Your hope sinks away from you, you feel your palms go limp and bloodless.

For a moment no one speaks. The silence of the night returns from wherever it fled to, creeps and settles around you.

When you find it again, your voice sounds heartless to your ears.

"Take my siblings," you say.

[Your brother's name] shouts in objection, your little sister cries out.

"No! Y/N, you can't-"

"Not another word!" You order. The words burn you to say. "You will go with these men, I won't hear anything about it."

The redheaded man grabs your sister by the forearm swiftly, and the sullen one extends a hand to your brother. They apparate away in a solitary whoosh. You feel the last remnants of your heart tear away and leave with them.

When the last man, the handsome one, steps towards you, you shake your head and retreat, backing up against the wall.

"I'm not going, sir."

You speak firmly, but the man scoffs anyway.

The front door is still erratically swinging on its hinges like a weather vane. Your father's neck has drooped forward, his chin buried in his chest. He falls in and out of sleep like this lately. He grows worse every day.

The lone soldier purses his lips, his eyes gleam testily. You think he might grab you then, and it sends a tingle down your spine.

"I'm a war nurse, you know?" Your hands are trembling suddenly. No one to pretend to be brave for now that your siblings are gone. Your courage takes on a raw, desperate quality. "Or I want to be. I know enough to help."

"Miss," the man speaks sincerely. Unlike his comrades, he really looks at you when he talks, looks you dead in the eyes. It should be unnerving, but it isn't. You can't name what it does to you.

"I vow to take full responsibility for your father's health and safety. Home or not, he won't be better off here. I will personally care for and protect him, I promise you."

You swallow and nod. He's about to grab your hand when you speak again.

"And them?" You say. "The Muggle soldiers? Who protects them? You can take my father, but I will stay."

He makes a noise of gentle surprise.

"Miss, we're here to minimize the global wizarding community's losses. No magical blood needs to be spi-"

"I don't care about all that," your voice is sharper than you intended. It appears to have cut him to the core. 'Magical blood,' he'd said. But you've never been ashamed of being a half-blood. You've never been ashamed of being your father's daughter.

He frowns in contemplation, more to himself than at you.

"You want to stay so badly. Why?"

"I told you, I'm a nurse."

"You're a child."

"I'm sixteen," you bite back.

"Like I said," his rebuttal is delivered with a sly smile. You amuse him, though you're not sure why. "A child. Not even old enough for Muggle conscription."

"I'm no Muggle."

"No, you're... You're something else."

You bite your lip. Your words are braver than your feelings now.

"If what you say is true, the Muggles--the Allied soldiers--will need medical attention. A woman in town has been training me as a nurse. I've been to the front, I can help. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't."

His eyes don't leave your face, some silent assessment taking place within him. You're already thinking of what else you can say to him, how else to convince him.

"Okay," he says, unflinchingly. "You can stay." He'll turn a blind eye.

Your shoulders slump in relief.

He walks towards your father, who is still sagged over in a worrisome-looking unconsciousness, too deep to be sleep.

'No,' you think. 'Don't go yet.'

Mindlessly, senselessly, you feel a blooming alarm. Some death rattle, some dying burst of life.

"Wait!" You call out to him, stepping away from the wall.

The man turns. "The handsome one," you'd called him in your head, fancifully, maybe even teasingly. Nothing about it seems funny now. It never had to mean anything to you, people being handsome or beautiful. It didn't have to be about you. But this, it feels serious, personal.

You don't know what overcomes you, how you could act so boldly. He'll probably think you deranged, hysterical.

But you can't imagine he'll deny you.

You've seen enough soldiers these last two years of war to know what they want from women and girls, what they all inescapably hunger for.

"Kiss me," you say, and then add, "Please. Please kiss me."

He halts completely. When his brows knit together your heart shutters closed, meekly.

"Why?"

"I..." It's hard to admit, even now, the world burning around you. "I've never been kissed. I want to be kissed, just once, before I die. In case I do..."

You're losing your breath as you speak, your stamina sputters out.

You know how he must see you--naive, insane, maybe even pathetic. You can bear the rejection, but, suddenly, can't bear to face him anymore.

You don't hear his footsteps. His touch is so gentle you barely feel it, are still turning away when you notice his fingertips resting on your wrist.

When you look up at his face it's so unexpectedly close that you gasp. His eyes are blue, a deep and true blue. You were a fool to think him anything like the other soldiers you'd encountered. No, his expression was achingly kind and perceptive. Devastatingly handsome.

He smells like engine smoke and soap and spearmint. He smells like a man. It's intoxicating. It makes you shudder.

You close your eyes tight and hold your breath. There is the smell of fire and the echoes of distant warfare around you, but your entire body drones that out, pauses and prepares for this moment, readies itself to be kissed.

The man rests a hand on the side of your face, that alone is as intimate as any kiss, the warmth of his palm. He hesitates.

His lips on your forehead are not what you expect, but your body thrills anyway when you feel them press there.

But you are sixteen and you want a real kiss.

You don't even care who from. You want just this one selfish, childish thing in a warring world where no one is afforded childhood.

You stare at him in unhappy perplexity when he pulls back.

You might cry, you realize, and the swelling tears in your vision, they stun you.

"Live," he says, softly. Insistently. "You'll live to be kissed."

He turns to leave, but stops midway. Your siblings gone, soon your father too. The Germans invading. Your whole life taken in one fell swoop, one night. The last trace of your girlhood will be the sight of this soldier's back as he walks out the door of your childhood home. This, you know.

The man looks back at your face and asks you a question no soldier has ever bothered to ask you, not when they burst into your home, not even when you were cleaning their wounds and saving their lives at the front.

"What is your name?" he says.

"What's yours?"

"Theseus Scamander," he doesn't miss a beat. He's an open book. "Do you not want to tell me your name?"

"It won't matter soon enough..."

"Do you so badly not want to live?"

"No, I do. I am just no longer afraid of death."

The look in his eyes is so tender and considerate, it's almost painful.

"I don't need a name to remember you," he's smiling again, it's so strange and out of place and, you admit, heartening. "Good luck. Goodbye."

Theseus Scamander leaves with your father in tow, closing the violently fluctuating door, at last, on his way out.

----

1925, London, Nine Years Later

'It can't be,' you think to yourself. 'Improbable.'

It's just too soon. You've hardly sat down at your new desk when you receive the interdepartmental memo. It unfolds from its airplane shape mid-air and sways delicately, falling in a rocking motion until it's flat on your desk.

A memo already?

You have just been moved to the Department of Magical Games and Sports from the Department of Mysteries. The man who sat there before you was moved to a bigger, better office, had been some hunching, Quidditch-loving Old Boy who wore long socks and smelled of moth-eaten cotton. Allegedly his name was Mr. Byrne.

A real success story in his department, or, rather, your host department, as you'd been appointed Interdepartmental Liaison for the Department of Mysteries. A new position. In fact, the only "above ground" position in your department, which was, expectedly, shrouded in mystery and sunken deep within the depths of the British Ministry of Magic.

In truth, you were also here on a mission. There had been rumors of conspiracy, political mutiny. Grindelwald supporters who had infiltrated the British Ministry of Magic. And the top suspect was the Head of the Department you'd been moved to. You'd been instructed to investigate, discern the truth of the rumors.

This would usually be a job for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but they had also been compromised. Or so you'd been told...

Your new position meant that you were to be kept in the dark more often than not, but it also meant having a desk above ground and being around other people. Luxuries.

No more time travel experiments, thought experiments, or, thankfully, demented blood purity experiments that always made your half-blood boil. You could live without all of that.

Still, none of that explained you receiving an interdepartmental memo before you'd even settled in.

You lift it from your desk in annoyance.

You do a double-take at the words, blinking hard at them.

"Holy hell," the memo reads. "When I told you I wanted to investigate some cursed Gobstones I didn't mean I wanted you to send them to my office, fuck's sake. Next after-work pint is on you, my friend."

You scoff.

It must have been misaddressed. The unfortunate writer must not know about Mr. Byrne's relocation.

It's beneath you, and childish, but you can't help but write back.

It's the sort of enchanted parchment that you can just write your responding message on. The ink disappears into the scrap of paper and appears wherever your mystery correspondent may be.

For your own amusement, you try to picture their reaction the best that you can.

"First of all, 'Holy hell'? 'Fuck's sake'? How dare you," you write. "Second of all, I'm not your friend and I most certainly will not be paying for an 'after-hours' pint. If I'm not clocked in, I'll have nothing to do with the Ministry."

It takes him so long to write back you nearly forget about it, have already gotten to unpacking all your silver nibs and ink pots and lining them up in the drawer like little soldiers, just how you like.

"Who is this?" Comes the message.

It's so dry, the response, so worried and perfunctory, that you nearly laugh out loud.

But something about the formality and genuine concern in your mystery messenger's script compels you to reply with mercy.

"Relax. Mr. Byrne's desk has been moved. If you want to write him, he has the big office on level seven with the view of the Atrium now. Lucky bastard. I'm at his old desk. Was just kidding about being offended. You can say 'fuck' and 'hell' all you want to me."

His reply comes quickly this time.

"Oh, good. Fucking hell, I was scared for a moment there."

You smile in bemusement. Who knew anyone at the Ministry could have a sense of humor? You'd thought you were the only one. You can't help but write back eagerly.

"Damn, I should have lied and said I was the Minister for Magic."

"Have mercy. I think I honest to God would have cried."

"So, no after-work pint for me then?"

"Forgive me, where are my manners? Today. The White Horse. Not sure who you are, but pint is on me, sir."

"*Miss!!" You correct. "And I was only joking. I really meant what I said before about not wanting anything to do with the Ministry unless I'm at work and being paid for my time."

"How very patriotic."

There's nothing in his writing to indicate sarcasm, but it practically drips off the page. This person is cheeky, you realize. Sarcastic. And a little annoying.

You like it.

The Department of Magical Games and Sports is a sleepy, uneventful affair compared to the work you'd been engaged in for the Department of Mysteries when you were "below ground." You look around at your colleagues, your dreary officemates. They were relatively sedentary outside of Quidditch season. Sleepy, slow-moving creatures.

As interdepartmental liaison for the Department of Mysteries, a fabricated position, really, you were already bored out of your mind.

Maybe that's why you write back with unfounded enthusiasm.

"Mystery boy: Tell me something about you. Tell me something true."

----

London hadn't been kind to you.

It seemed you had a hard time of everything: finding a flat with your sister as two unmarried, unchaperoned women, making friends outside of work, making sure to look the right way when crossing the street to avoid getting hit by a bus ('They drive on the left side, Y/N. Get it together'). All these things had proved to be excessively difficult. Especially the not-getting-hit-by-a-bus part.

During the war, while you served as an underaged combat nurse on the frontlines, your father died, but your siblings lived.

They told you the soldier from that night, the one who denied you your first kiss, had kept his word. He'd done the best he could to care for your father and, more importantly, he'd stayed with him until the very end.

Your brother was still in France, working with magical aquatic beasts around les Calanques de Cassis, but your sister was here with you. She worked in some Muggle field you didn't quite understand.

Her, your brother, and, now, the mystery man you'd been writing to every day were the only real people in your life. The only people who really talked to and knew you.

Day by day you'd grown closer to the mystery man. What had started out as vaguely funny, sometimes hostile banter had developed into something more. You'd both genuinely warmed to each other.

"Morning, sunshine!"

You were so accustomed to reading his greeting with your morning coffee that you reached for it automatically, as soon as you arrived, hand sweeping wide over the expanse of your desk to pick it up.

"Hope you caught some bad guys today. Or at least got to enforce a law or two. Bye-bye, idiot." You sign at the end of most days. Or some other joking farewell.

It's a constant correspondence between the two of you, scrawled-in between assignments and research. On your desk there is your inbox, your outbox, the stack of parchment (whatever you happen to be working on), and, just to the side of that, the discreet piece of paper you use to correspond with the mystery man.

However, you do try to mitigate the sharing of identifying information. Even when he learns you're an "Unspeakable," or someone working for the Department of Mysteries, it does little to deter him.

"Keep your department's secrets," he writes. "I just want yours."

He volunteers information about himself, his initials ("TS") and even his department (Magical Law Enforcement), in the hopes that you'll reciprocate.

You do, but you offer unimportant, silly facts about yourself. Nothing that will help him identify you, though he's insistent that he'd know you anyway if you ran into each other.

"I'm an Auror. I fought in the war," he reveals one day. "Your turn now."

"Fine: I never learned how to swim. So if you want to kill me you should probably drown me."

"I'm considering it. I'll bring a bottle of water when I finally see you. Why won't you tell me something more about yourself?!"

"What do you want to know? Can't a girl working for the Department of Mysteries be mysterious once in a while?"

"It gets old."

"You're a liar. You love me."

"True on both counts. But one of these days I'm just going to show up at your desk. I know where it is, you know... Mu-ha-ha."

You write back dismissively. "Why show up? So I can berate you in person?"

Your heart pounds stupidly as you watch the message sink away. You don't want to encourage him.

It's been one whole month of your daily exchanging of magical notes.

You know his biggest stressors at work, you know what he finds irritating, what he finds funny. Know his hopes and dreams.

You hate to admit it, but you'd be completely adrift without it, without him. Even when you're back at your flat with your sister you find your hands moving to write whenever something weird or funny happens, just to tell him, instinctually. You find yourself missing him.

It makes you shudder, the thought.

You don't want anything more... You're both comfortable and satisfied with how things are now. It's really only him who jokes about meeting up sometimes. But you? You're afraid meeting him in person would ruin that.

Maybe it's easier to have a close relationship with him across the merciful distance of anonymity.

"Night night." He writes at the end of the day. He seems to get to work earlier than you and leave later, but he's learned to say goodbye right at 6:00pm, when you usually leave.

For some reason, the words don't disappear from the page, even when you write back beneath them. His boyish script stays put.

"'Night night?'" you write back. "Ouch. I'm not a grandmother, I do intend to go out for dinner after work. Why the bedtime message?"

His words fade in and your heart swells.

"I wrote it so you can put it in your pocket and save it for tonight. I get to say goodbye to you, and good morning, but not goodnight. Just trying to cover all my bases."

You smile and tear off the message, putting it in your pocket. On the remaining paper, you cast a spell for the same, lingering text that he'd gifted you.

"Okay. You can save and reuse this message: Goodnight then, T. Sleep well, I'll talk to you tomorrow, and tomorrow. And the day after that, too."

----

You're prone to daydreaming, you'll admit to that.

"You live in a world of your own!" your favorite professor at Beauxbatons would say fondly.

"Ditzy girl, that one!" your least favorite professor would scowl within earshot of you.

But it's so easy to slip away, especially when you have something, someone, to dream about.

You watch your feet sweep across the dark green tiled floors of the Atrium, but hardly pay attention to anything else as you make your way to the elevators.

You're chuckling to yourself, remembering something your mystery correspondent wrote yesterday. It was some outrageous story, so ridiculous you wouldn't have believed it if it came from anyone but him, who was honest to a fault.

It was about a disastrous trip he took with his younger brother and involved camping on a storm-logged beach, an angry Graphorn, and frantically singing some maritime folk song they'd been misinformed would calm the beast.

You're still smiling at the floor when you step into the elevator, or, more correctly, step directly into a tall man in a three-piece suit. You crash into him with a crushing momentum.

"Oof!" you redden immediately, try to catch your breath and sputter out an apology at the same time. "I'm so sorry, forgive me!"

But the man is engaged in a conversation with two other men in the elevator, laughing.

He doesn't look over to you, he just stills you with an attractive casualness, steadies your frame with a firm hand on your shoulder. You know you hit him hard, his nonchalance is for your benefit.

"S'alright. Sorry, miss," he says with a half-glance, before turning back to his conversation.

A half-glance is all you need.

The profile of his face in the elevator light. His exact height and the feeling of being next to him. His voice, for Christ's sake!

You go stiff, your face wan.

It was him. Unmistakably. The English soldier from that night at your father's house in France. From the last time you saw your father, the last time you felt like a girl...

You couldn't speak if you wanted to. You feel something like seasickness come over you, you don't dare open your mouth.

"Theseus Scamander," his colleague is joking. "I mean it when I say well done! We should've known our young war hero would make the best Auror in the department!"

"Really, really spectacular job, son!" The other man claps a hand over Theseus's back in agreement. They're both older, sort of brash men, they don't seem to sense Theseus's discomfort at being complimented.

Theseus is grinning bashfully.

"Just doing my job," he delivers with charm, shrugging.

"Nonsense! Tonight, we celebrate. I'm not taking no for an answer. I've actually felt somewhat of a mentor to you, when you first started out-"

"We ought to invite Mr. Byrne out with us!" The third man exclaims with revelatory fervor. "How has the old chap been? Do you still go down to the pub with him, Theseus?"

It is the second, overlapping wave of nausea that really does you in, digs in its claws and drags downwards. You feel your feet physically sink into the floor. You can't bring yourself to move at all, you drone out the rest of what they're saying. It's white noise, the buzz of flies.

Mr. Byrne.

War hero.

Auror.

Initials T.S.

God, how stupid could you be? No, that's not fair.

The chances of seeing him again were slim. The chances of the two of you working together were even slimmer. The chances of him, the soldier from that night, Theseus Scamander, being your mystery correspondent these last weeks.... It should've been impossible.

When the elevator doors ding open at level seven, you step past the men quickly, rudely, afraid they'll turn to say something to you. Even a belated greeting or perfunctory farewell you couldn't bear.

You don't know why you feel so shaken.

'It's not a big deal,' you tell yourself consolingly once at your desk. 'You were sixteen. So what if you asked him to kiss you?'

But deep within your core, in a space beyond words or reason, you know that it was more than that. You weren't embarrassed about a stupid non-kiss. No, you haven't been able to shake that night, to shake him.

You'd connected. Or, rather, he'd seen you. Something about his gaze and his words had cut through the fat of life, of circumstance, and he'd seen you for who you really are.

And he'd promised to remember you.

It's gutting, harrowing almost. Realizing he'd been writing to you all this time, unaware. Some sick joke from the universe with no punchline--because you decided then and there to stop writing to him, immediately.

Theseus realizes long before the end of the day.

After you crumple his unanswered "good morning" memo and push it to the far corner of your desk, another flies in.

"URGENT: Is it just me or is Mr. Byrne particularly dapper today? The magenta top hat I can forgive, even the monocle is pardonable, but the polkadot bowtie? Inexcusable. Unbecoming of the Ministry. Need your thoughts immediately."

You had seen Mr. Byrne's polkadot bowtie today. You still found the magenta top hat more scandalizing. You wanted to laugh, but felt too much like crying to give way to the urge.

Then:

"I'm dying. Dark wizard lead in Suffolk but I can't be bothered. Tell me some funny story about you telling the professors off in school. I'm relying on tales of your genius to boost my morale. The fate of the Aurors Office depends on you alone. T."

It's three hours before the next memo comes flapping around the corner like some wounded bird.

"Have I done something wrong?" Shortly after, "More importantly--Are you alright?"

You don't know why you can't leave them be, why you keep reading them with no intention of responding.

"Scaring me here, mystery girl. Write back and I'll stop harassing you, write anything at all. Even a little drawing or scribble will suffice."

"You're not liaising very well, Liaison... Sorry, that was a joke. Ha-ha. I know the Department of Mysteries isn't expected to answer to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement but I'd always hoped you'd still answer to me..."

You throw yourself into your work with rigor.

Even your Department of Magical Games and Sports officemates comment on it, commendably. They don't realize you're just trying to occupy your brain, distract yourself from the sizable pile of memos lying formidably on your desk until you can go home.

The last one comes late in the day: "Really--Are you alright?"

Your heart aches weakly.

But no, you know how persistent and how persistently optimistic the mystery man ('Theseus,' you correct yourself) could be. If you wrote back he'd want an explanation, which he'd inevitably refute, and, besides, you weren't ready to tell him the truth or to face him again.

Your head is a jumbled mess of half-formed truths and complicated emotions.

It's a few minutes before 6:00pm, but you click off your desk lamp anxiously and begin to organize your things.

The nature of your position for the Department of Mysteries required you to lock your work up before you left. It involves two spells and four charmed latches and bolts, and it takes some time. You sit back in your chair with a sigh, waiting for the process to finish. The soft, mechanical whirring and clicking noises are a comfort to you.

The frosted glass door to the office swings open thunderously, with the unnecessary force of someone unfamiliar with the delicate door.

You sit up straight in your chair, startled. A few of the workers behind you even look over in alarm, heads shooting up from their desks.

No. Fucking. Way.

Theseus's chest is heaving softly. He's looking right at you, purposefully.

He actually showed up to your desk like he always joked about doing. You want to feel angry, indignant that he'd betray your trust, but all you feel is a numbing shock.

The sight of his face alone would've been a shock. Blue eyes. High cheekbones. Wavy, dark hair. Handsome as the day he left you.

He seems genuinely rendered speechless. The open part of his lips suggests that he had come with some speech prepared for you when he first burst in, although now he is, evidently, lost.

His eyes keep flitting up and down your form, lingering especially on your lips. It makes you flush. Yes, he gets a good look at your face, and at the small pile of his opened memos shoved to the far corner of your desk.

Whatever he expected to find, expected you to look like, this clearly wasn't it.

"Mr. Scamander!"

Your officemate Ana's voice from behind you makes you jolt again.

She walks over and places a hand on your shoulder tenderly. She seems to be completely unaware of any tension between the two of you, speaking to Theseus with ease.

"I'm sorry to steal Y/N from you, but I have to talk to her about an interdepartmental issue before she leaves. Can't wait!"

You wince at the mention of your name, but you're standing, bag clutched like a shield, and Ana is already whisking you past Theseus and through the frosted glass double doors.

"Y/N..." you hear Theseus echo, dreamily, as you pass, just before the doors close in his face and sever you from him completely.

-----

The next day you see him at a far distance.

You feel less shaken about things after having screamed to your little sister about it all last night. But she'd said something stupid about some "string of fate" that irritated you so much that you'd ultimately resorted to screaming into your pillow.

Regardless, you feel more secure. Less unsettled.

Still, the sight of Theseus's open expression in the Atrium, looking back at you in recognition across the crowds of businessmen and women just as the doors to the elevator you're in close--it's a bit haunting.

You gulp once in the safety of the elevator.

He saw you.

His eyes had drifted up and down your form, unreadably, before settling on your face. You didn't have time to react, and he was too far away besides.

Later, later than usual, a small memo floats onto your desk.

You don't hesitate, reaching for it, but the words aren't what you expect. No "good morning," not even anything referencing what had happened yesterday.

The words are so unexpected that his handwriting is the only indication that it's from him.

"You were so beautiful in that skirt this morning. So fucking beautiful. You look so enchanting in blue."

You flush deeply. So, that was what his look this morning had meant.

The relief comes delayed, second to your shyness at his flattery.

"Oh, thank God," you think.

He'd seen you, twice now, and hadn't recognized you.

He didn't remember. Or maybe he just didn't recognize you, it'd been nine years after all and you were no longer a scrawny, scrappy sixteen-year-old. But it was more likely that he just didn't remember.

You decide his not referencing your awkward encounter yesterday either is another mercy, so you go along pretending nothing happened.

"Are you flirting with me, sir?"

It's a comfort to be writing to him again.

"No," he writes back. Then, "Yes."

You laugh aloud at his candor.

"Y/N, I apologize for my outburst yesterday. I shouldn't have sprung on you like that, unannounced. Uninvited. I wish I could say I was afraid something had happened to you, but really I was just afraid you had stopped writing me for good. But then I just stood there like an absolute idiot, you probably had no idea who I was."

You huff at that.

"I knew who you were. I'm no Auror but 'Department of Magical Law Enforcement,' 'war hero,' and 'initials T.S.' aren't exactly subtle hints."

"Hey! I mentioned the war but never called myself 'hero.' I have a strong sense of propriety and I pride myself on it."

"How British..." you write back mockingly, unthinkingly.

"Are you not?"

Fuck. Well, you've already met.

"I live here now, and have for years, but I'm French."

The ink feels seared into the paper, how black your scrawl is, how you can't take it back. You don't know what you want from him. You wish he'd go away. You wish he'd never stop writing.

You wish he'd remember you on his own.

"Hmm..." he writes back.

Your heart is pounding. When he writes again your anxiety dissolves but your heart continues its steady, heavy drum.

"You're beautiful."

Your head is a scattered, overstimulated mess. You can't think straight.

He's still writing. The words fade in one by one.

"Why didn't you tell me you were beautiful? God, I didn't expect it, it took any coherent thought or word right out of me yesterday when you looked up at me with those eyes. And this morning, that skirt. Y/N, you should've warned me."

You laugh at the words on the paper, but your body's reaction to the thought of him writing them, thinking them, thinking of you, is anything but funny.

It feels overly warm in the office suddenly, and you are agitated. You stand and pace around your desk, fanning yourself with your hands.

Your fingers are shaking around the quill when you bend over your desktop to write back.

"Don't be dramatic, you'll live."

You worry you sound cruel so you add.

"And thank you. I don't think anyone has called me beautiful in a very long time."

He writes back: "Any time. And I highly doubt that. Y/N, I'm sure you've been beautiful your whole life. I can tell just by looking at you."

You don't know what possesses you when you write the next words:

"Can I come see you?"

There's a few, atypical beats before he writes back. It's excruciating.

"What, you mean at lunch?"

You look down at the small, oval face of your wristwatch.

Lunch is too far away. The bundle of nerves and anticipation you feel about Theseus, that swarming anxiety, is too unbearable to wait for lunch. You need to get him out of your system now, get him over with, and then you can move on and focus on your work.

"I mean now. In your office." You write back.

'Am I being presumptuous?' The thought makes you furrow your brow and bite your fingernail in worry. But then you remind yourself, 'Beautiful. He called you beautiful.'

It takes so long for him to reply that you almost write again to tell him never mind. But then his words come, like the sweet relief of rain:

"Yes, please. Level two, the very back left office."

You leave at once, smoothing down your skirt and brushing your hair back out of your face.

The anxiety ebbs and peaks at random. On the elevator ride you feel like you're dying. You recollect your confidence while walking to the wooden door of the Aurors Office only to feel another stab of panic as you make your way down the curved hall.

You feel so frazzled and worked up, too distracted to work or even ponder work. But you don't understand why until you push open Theseus's door, not bothering to knock. Until you're alone in the room with him, just the two of you behind closed doors.

He stands quickly upon your entrance, like a soldier.

For a moment the two of you just stare.

'Oh, God,' you realize with mounting dread. 'I am attracted to him. I am like this because I'm attracted to him.'

It feels terrible, awful, that sapping loss of power, that weakness in the knees. You haven't had a crush in your adult life, it's a trampling blow, the realization.

Theseus looks just as handsome as he always has, the crinkle of his eyes when he smiles, the sharp curve of his jaw.

He laughs and it breaks the spell of silence.

"Hello, you," his tone is fond but he still hasn't walked over to you, which is confusing and makes you shuffle aimlessly in place.

"Hi," you say, stupidly.

"Hi is all I get?" he jokes. "You know you've become something like my best friend in the office this last month. Actually, you probably know me better than my entire department."

You laugh bleakly, and you hope it dissipates the electrified energy between the two of you. That live-wire tension.

"I could say the same about you, actually."

He makes a strange, indecipherable expression then. It's both wry and lamenting.

"I don't want anything to change that, Y/N."

You frown.

"Why would anything change that?"

He doesn't answer you, changing the subject and turning his attention to the cup of quills on his desk, fiddling with the feathers.

"I... I didn't expect to react the way I did to seeing you for the first time yesterday. I've never reacted that way to anyone, anyone. When you told me you wanted to come see me here today, I panicked. I almost said no."

That hurts your feelings. "Why?"

He looks up from his desk. Your face burns at the sincerity of his expression.

"Because I knew it'd be harder for me to control myself if we were alone together. Harder to be a good friend and... behave."

He says the last word carefully. If he is calculated, delicate, you are anything but.

"I don't want you to behave," you whisper.

You step up to him, boldly. The tension is unbearable now.

"Y/N," he says warningly, disapprovingly. But the look in his eyes is agony.

"Kiss me," you say. The words come to you from far away, a train at the end of the tunnel, you pull them from that night in Verdun, from nine years ago. You need him just the same as you did then.

Theseus smiles reluctantly. The sideways tilt to his mouth is so captivating, it makes you want it more. God, he's attractive. Even more so now that you know him, are his friend.

"I can't," he says, pitifully.

But the look on his face, the way he's standing steadfastly behind his desk like having it between you will protect him, the way his eyes are flitting from yours down to your lips and back up again and again, that isn't saying no.

"Okay, have it your way. But I won't ask you again," you warn.

You want to admit that this isn't the first time he's denied you. He promised you'd live to be kissed, you've come back to haunt him for it now.

You would not ask him a third time.

Theseus groans loudly and puts his head in his hands. When you laugh he looks up at you disparagingly.

"You think that's funny, do you?"

You do. You find it cute. Maybe you don't realize the extent of his distress.

You reach forward to pinch his cheek, jokingly. He bats your hand away with an unwilling smile.

Then you're falling into him, losing your balance. He grasps both your hands in his to keep you from toppling over, the both of you laughing.

"Get off!" you shout gleefully.

"You get off," he retorts jokingly.

Pushing and pulling and touching, it's something like play-fighting the way you're both falling into and catching each other.

At last, he wrangles you onto his desk, so you're sitting there at the edge.

Your head is spinning. He grabs both your wrists, holding them together in a single, large hand.

"Hands to yourself, Y/N," is his gentle reprimand.

But you know, know from the soft pant of his breathing, the undone look on his face, lips half parted, that you've already won.

He doesn't cave into your will so much as collapse altogether, soundlessly, undetectably.

You don't blink, big, innocuous look in your eyes, staring up at him. Even when you're raised up, sitting on his desk while he stands, he's so tall that you have to look up at him.

"Please," Theseus says, and it's so attractive, his broken whisper. "I'm begging you, Y/N."

He drops down to his knees, one leg at a time with the heavy, hypnotized motions of a man defeated.

You gasp softly when his warm palms grip your kneecaps, rubbing gingerly over the sheer material of your tights, reverently.

A man on his knees, his curly head between your thighs. Your stomach plummets, burning low in desire.

You want him bad. Mind-numbingly bad, your whole body tingling underneath and keening to his touch. But it's too addictively sweet, him begging for it like this. You want to draw it out.

"Hm," you sigh, not responding, but you let your legs fall open under the guidance of his hands.

He moans at the sight. When he speaks again his voice is weak and ruined. Rough and pleading.

"Please, I'll do anything. Let me touch you. You're killing me, please."

It's almost a whine.

You can see that the fabric of his pants is stretched taut across his crotch--he's already hard.

His chest is rising and falling softly. There's a needy, trancelike glint in his eyes. He wants it bad, it's plain on his face. It's different from impatience, it's anguish.

"Kiss me," you say again. It's a demand this time. He gives in without a fight, rising up and capturing your open mouth in his.

It's a deep, languishing kiss. He kisses you like he wants to taste you, like he can't get enough of it. He grips your head by the jaw to kiss you better, deeper. When his tongue presses into your mouth you moan into his.

His hand sweeps blindly across his desk, clearing it with a crash. You jump at the sound but he grabs your face again, turning it back to his roughly.

"No," he murmurs. "C'mere."

And he's kissing you again, humming in approval when you tentatively push back against his tongue with your own.

With effort, you pull back to look at him. His pupils are blown out with desire, the collar of his dress shirt pulled open, revealing a collarbone.

"Theseus," you say, your whole body tingling with warmth. You say his name just to say it.

You're too shy to tell him that this is your first kiss, that you'd waited all this time.

It's startling, how quickly the tables turned. How deftly he took control of the situation once he had your permission to.

His hands pull down your skirt, worshipfully, that blue skirt he loves so much. He sets it aside, you're just in your sheer black tights now.

You understand why he cleared his desk now. You fall back with a moan when he flattens his massive hand across your crotch, spreads his fingers. It covers the entire expanse between your legs easily. It feels so lewd for him to touch you there now, but then he drags his hand up, sliding it over your stomach, the middle of your chest, up your neck.

"You'll let me touch you like this?" he asks.

You nod, quickly.

"Only me?" he inquires, sounding pleased. Maybe amused.

"Yes," you say, nodding again with urgency. "Only you. Nobody else."

"Fuck," he curses. He pulls open your blouse then, and disposes of that as well. You half sit up to help him with your bra. Whereas his movements are devout, seeming to worship every part of you, yours are frantic, crazed.

It's not just that you're in his office, at work, but it's that you want him badly. So very badly. It feels like the only thing that can make it better.

Once you have your bra off he pushes you back on the desk again. Places open-mouth kisses your neck, drags his teeth over the skin there then moves down. You gasp when he puts his mouth on your breast, circling your nipple with his tongue. He pinches your other nipple with his hand, rolling it gently between his rough fingertips.

"Hngh," you can't help but moan, writhe, throw your head back against the wood.

You almost want to cry out in disbelief when his head leaves your chest, sinking lower. He's on his knees again, pulling down your tights. You don't understand.

"Theseus, what-" you start, but you are silenced, the breath stolen from your chest, at the sensation of his mouth on your clit.

The moan that leaves your mouth this time is recklessly loud, carelessly so.

Theseus doesn't seem to mind.

"You taste so fucking good," he pulls back to say, his voice is ragged.

You're shy. The idea of him tasting and licking you, putting his mouth there makes you shy. But the pleasure that rocks through your entire body is too strong to deny. You'd never ask him to stop. You weren't capable of it.

Your hands go to his head, fingers wind through his hair automatically.

"Fuck," you say, involuntarily.

He's sucking your clit so well, you hardly notice when he brings up a hand, finger tracing the line of your wet slit, prodding in and out of your tight hole just barely, just to the knuckle. Kitten-fucking you with it.

He stops sucking to lick you up and down with his tongue, again and again in quick, steady rhythm, flicking the firm tip of it against your clit until you have to bite the back of your hand to keep from crying out. When he sinks his two fingers into your pussy fully, stuffing them in forcefully despite the restrictive tightness, still licking, that's all it takes for your orgasm to overtake you in pulses of unbelievable, unknown pleasure.

He removes his fingers and rises. His plush lips are slick with your arousal. He has a dreamy, dazed look in his eyes. The ravaged, destroyed look on your face seems to do something awful to him.

"Let me fuck you," Theseus says. It makes your stomach flip.

He doesn't ask, didn't say 'do you want to,' or 'can we.' He wants to take it from you.

"Yes," you mutter, spreading your legs again without thinking, head still laid back on his desk. Your orgasm made your limbs feel loose, compliant. Anything he wants. Anything at all.

Even the clinking sound of him undoing his belt buckle makes you swoon with yearning, makes your mouth water. He doesn't bother to take off his pants, just pulls his dick out, still staring into your eyes.

'God. Mercy,' you think. Even in his hand it looks huge. It's pretty.

He smiles crookedly at the widening of your eyes.

"You like my cock, baby?"

"Yes," you whisper. "Please. I want it."

He leans over you to kiss your forehead. You don't have the chance to reminisce, for it to remind you of anything, because then he is pushing into your wet warmth. He slides in so snugly, so smoothly, fits like a glove despite the stretch. The feeling of being so overfull is lewd and perfect.

He presses a hand to your lower stomach. He can feel himself inside of you there.

You gasp at the applied pressure.

He keeps his hand pressed there as he angles his hips back and then begins to fuck you. He wants to feel it underhand, how he's moving inside of you.

"Fuuuuucckkkk," you're incoherent, you know. But you can't help but swear, your whole body is vibrating with ecstasy as he drives his dick in and out of you.

"You're beautiful," he groans, throwing his head back. His entire world narrows down to this, fucking you, pumping his dick into your tightness and feeling you flutter and flex around him.

"Wait, Theseus I-" your second orgasm takes you by surprise. Your back arches off the desk, it hits you like a train, it's like an out-of-body experience.

"Fuck," He grips the back of your thighs to the point of pain. But you hardly notice that, you only feel his dick grow achingly hard. He pulls out at the last moment, coming into his hand. It spills out and between his fingertips anyway.

He makes a face of sore regret at the mess. You knew how badly he wanted to come inside of you, you could feel it, but you are grateful he didn't.

You have the strangest urge to get up and lick his fingers, but realistically you're too wrecked to move.

It takes a solid two minutes before either of you return to breathing normally and regain your bearings.

'What did we just do?' you think as you put your clothes back on.

You glance over to Theseus, he's fixing his tie in the small mirror next to the closed door of his office.

It was like you were a woman possessed. You can hardly believe your actions. But, strangely, you don't feel guilty or regretful. And your feelings for Theseus are stronger than ever. Consummated. You feel safe with him. Overjoyed, really.

He catches you looking at him in the mirror and turns. The look on his face is one of total contentment.

He comes over to you, runs his fingers through your hair gently. There's nothing but adoration in his eyes as he beholds you.

"I don't know how I'm expected to just sit back down and continue to do work on my desk now, after that. I'm gonna go insane, just knowing you're only a few levels away."

You laugh. It's an airy, light-hearted sound.

"I like you so much," he admits, brazenly, before you can even respond to him.

Your head is still a muddled mess, but this here is easy to admit. He could probably see it on your face anyway. Read you like a book.

"I like you too," you say. "I miss you already. Keep writing to me."

"I promise."

-----

part two here

author's note: what will happen when the truth of their past comes to light?? part two incoming!!! please leave feedback :)

comment/ask to be added to the taglist!

taglist: @msauthor

#theseus scamander #fantastic beasts #theseus scamander x reader #theseus x reader #theseus smut #fbawtft #hp fanfic

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thefreakandthehair · 1 year

Text

weaponized insomnia strikes again, my friends. I wrote this between the hours of 2am-3am so if you see errors, simply ignore. I don't even really know what this is but I just think the idea of Eddie reaching out for Steve is neat. <3

It starts innocently enough— a simple touch of his fingers to Steve’s forearm.

A ghost, a whisper of skin to skin, is all it takes to ignite a fuse that’s been destined to burn since the second Eddie held that bottle to Steve’s throat in a rundown shack. Eddie shouldn’t be surprised that that’s how their story starts, really. What had he expected? Something traditional? Laughable. No, instead, the very tips of his fingers reach for Steve’s arm from the lumpy mattress of his hospital room, surrounded by beeping monitors and sterility, and that’s all it takes.

When he learns how to walk again, it’s Steve on the other end of the room, an encouraging smile plastered across his face and ready to grab his hands to steady him at even the slightest wobble.

When he wakes up screaming, it’s Steve at his bedside before even the nurses. They’re ready with sedatives but Steve rubs his shoulder, traces over the scars on his collarbone to quell the phantom burning, and sure, the medications help but he keeps reaching for Steve first anyways.

When he finally leaves the hospital, flanked by Hopper, Wayne, and Steve to shield him from ignorant townspeople who don’t get the he’s innocent memo, it’s Steve he finds himself reaching for once they’re safely in the backseat of the Hopper’s cruiser.

It only makes sense, then, that it becomes a habit. Outside of the hospital walls, Eddie keeps reaching and Steve’s always there, reliable as a lighthouse guiding ships to shore.

It evolves slowly as the fuse sparks, and sure, Steve’s still the one he reaches for when the anxiety sets in, like the time the old clock chimes in the library as he studies for his GED, but he finds himself with his hands on Steve for less dire reasons, too.

Movie night? Their forearms touch from the cramped quarters of Eddie’s living room, or their thighs line against one another, or Eddie’s arm drapes over the back of the couch so his fingertips graze the soft material of Steve’s Henley.

Smoking in the back of the van? Eddie knows that Steve can light his own joint, he’s seen him do it hundreds of times at this point, but he can’t help the urge to light it for him, letting his fingertips graze the warm skin of Steve’s knuckles in the process.

Lugging the kids to and from the arcade? Steve makes a joke about someone’s attitude (the someone depends on the day, honestly, but Dustin’s emerged as the most frequent offender) and Eddie can’t hold himself back from nudging their shoulders together and watching Steve’s smile grow at the touch. Eddie knows he’s reaching for a reason, but he tamps it down the best he can with his metaphorical Rebooks because it’s Steve. He can’t risk losing his tether, his anchor, by fucking it up with feelings. He can ignore it. It’s fine.

And it is, until one day, Steve reaches for him.

The movie they’d chosen didn’t warn them before showing a brutal slasher scene and Eddie’s skin crawls at the sights and sounds of the victim being torn apart. Every scar on his body feels like it’s on fire but before he can reach, before he can grip Steve’s arm tight enough for his fingernails to leave little crescent moon marks in the summer-baked tan of his flesh, Steve’s hand is on his thigh. Warm, heavy, and grounding, Eddie stares down where their bodies connect.

“Not really feeling this one, let’s do Ferris Bueller again?” Steve stops the VHS and sets it to rewind.

Eddie’s still staring at Steve’s hand on his thigh. Even before it was Steve, Eddie’s always been the one reaching. For friends, for comfort, for companionship. He’s reached with his hands, his heart, his words. Hellfire and Corroded Coffin are both tangible expressions of the depth of his reaching but for all of the ways he’s extended olive branches to those he felt deserving, few have reached back— and the ones who had felt nothing like Steve. Steve touches beyond something his skin, touches something buried deep, perhaps a locked chest to which his fingers hold the lone key.

“You alright?” Steve asks, turning his body slightly to face him and leaving his hand in place.

Eddie finally tears his eyes from his thigh to meet Steve’s gaze. His eyes, green specks and all, watch him with such fondness that it makes him ache. He nods and swallows the lump in his throat.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. Thanks.” His voice is barely more than a whisper and Steve’s brows knit together, a little wrinkle appearing between them.

“You sure? You look, I dunno, off. Wanna talk?”

It's a loaded question and the facade of it’s fine that Eddie's built up over months shatters like the glass it’s made of.

“You— I— Steve, please don’t let this fuck up our perfectly good friendship, please—” He’s sure that Steve can hear the clattering in his chest but just ignore it, opting instead to move his hand from Eddie’s thigh up to his shoulder. Soft fingers brush his hair away from his face, rub small circles into his skin over his shirt, settle there like a weighted blanket. So many soft touches, so much reaching, and Eddie doesn’t know what to do with any of it.

“Take a breath, man. I’m here. What’s up? Was it the movie? You looked fucking tense, I probably should’ve picked up on it soone—”

“Why? Why should you’ve picked up on it sooner?” Eddie interrupts, turning to face him with wide eyes and hope and terror.

“Uh, because it’s you? I know your tells, Eddie. I do pay attention.” It’s almost indignant, the way Steve phrases it. I know you, I see you, duh? As if it’s not the first time in his life that’s happened.

Eddie thinks he’s going absolutely batshit when he hears himself say, “Steve, I like you.” The fuse that’d been lit creeps down to its final thread and Eddie explodes.

“I like you way more than I should, way more than a friend should like another friend, you know? And, and touching you the way I have been has been enough for me, really, because I’d rather have that than have nothing because those are the obvious two options and I just— fuck, I don’t know why I’m talking or saying any of this but I convinced myself it’d be fine but now you’re touching me and you’re seeing me and I don’t— I don’t know what to do with that?” Eddie stops for a breath and pushes on, talking himself in circles.

Steve watches with the same raised eyebrows and beguiled expression he gives Robin when she rambles, except the drumming of his heart is a dead giveaway that no, this fondness in his chest is not the same. Finally, his own fuse burning out in tandem with Eddie’s, Steve lets his hand travel from its resting place on Eddie’s shoulder to trace his collarbone, the side of his neck, and landing gently against his cheek. Eddie’s mouth snaps closed mid-sentence and he glances down, trying to see his own cheek and the hand that’s thumbing beneath his cheekbone.

Silence is a heavy blanket, wrapping them together in the warmth they’ve created on the oversized couch.

“I’m gonna kiss you, okay?” Steve’s close enough that Eddie can smell the pizza they’d eaten for dinner and feels his breath against his skin. His lips part unconsciously and he nods, the only response he can muster. Steve gently pulls him in and presses their lips together, his other hand gliding across to grip Eddie’s waist while Eddie’s tangle themselves in the front of Steve’s shirt. It’s slow, and it’s patient, and it’s just as wonderfully soft as Eddie’s imagined the many, many times he’s let himself imagine.

Eddie keeps reaching, and Steve reaches back.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #stranger things #myfic #mostly fluff with a teensy bit of angst hurt/comfort sprinkled on top like parmesan cheese #myblurbs

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undead-supernova · 4 months

Text

High Tolerance

Part 1 / Part 2

Masterlist

warnings: weed consumption, sickly sweet pining

pairings: bestfriend!bisexual!modern!eddie x bisexual!fem!reader

plot: you and Eddie are besties and like to get high. and maybe you are yearning for one another. just maybe. juuuuust a little bit.

wc: 3.6k

I'm so proud of this, I hope people enjoy it!

Part 1: Strawberry Syrup

You and Eddie mirrored each other, your elbows resting on the glass counter as you rested your chins on one hand, listening intently to the clearly stoned woman talk about the promising high of the day.

The bottle she’d taken down from the shelf looked like a tiny juice box, with pink liquid sloshing inside and a green label with a cannabis leaf, because of course.

“Look,” she said, pointing at a thin layer of film at the top. “That thin layer right there? That's the THC.”

You looked over at Eddie, his expression matching yours in wonder at how products like these existed. He was nearly grinning, mouth twisted to the side in awe. She continued to explain the process to you—this was Delta-9 THC syrup. Strawberry flavored. Your instructions were clear: mix it into a drink, preferably soda, and have fun.

When the two of you emerged from the smoke shop, you took a sharp pivot across the street to the gas station to get sodas. The southern July heat was starting to show its unwelcome presence, beating hard on you within the two minutes it took to walk over to the Exxon.

Eddie never truly got the memo for the sun, even when you told him how hot it was going to be outside. He donned a black t-shirt with one of his friend’s band logos on the front and a simple silver chain around his neck. He still wore his leather jacket and navy jeans, denying how hot he was when you called him out for being sweaty.

“Woah! Rude!” Eddie exclaimed as you walked through the automatic doors, putting a hand on his chest. There was even sweat running down his knuckles from his rings. “I am perfectly content. Maybe I like a little sweat.”

You gestured to your own sweaty body, clad in a black crop top with red lining along the low bustline and black jeans. And you quickly realized that you were also wearing jeans in eighty degree weather.

“I’m afraid I made the same mistake and I am a hypocrite,” you empathized, catching him off guard. “My apologies.”

“Yeah, I guess you did, huh?” he said softly.

He glanced down at your outfit and you suddenly felt nervous at the exposure. You paused, realizing you’d both stopped walking. Holding his stare, you looked up at him with a slight smirk. Was Eddie checking you out? Did he really do that? And were you teasing him back? Was that what this was?

No. You were getting ahead of yourself. You were always making up shit like this.

You pivoted, skipping over to the refrigerated drinks, Eddie following in tow. “I’m excited to try this. I’ve seen it in there so many times, but I couldn’t figure out the right time to try it.”

“And you’d never do it without your bestest friend of all best friends, right?” Eddie asked, a playful smile settling on his lips as you flitted around him.

“That is correct.”

Eddie settled on a Sprite while you decided to grab a strawberries and cream Dr. Pepper—despite the sound of disgust leaving Eddie’s lips.

“That,” he pointed to your drink, “is nasty,” he said before dramatically shooing you away. “Get it away from my face. You've failed me, sweetheart.”

Letting out an exaggerated gasp, you replied, “Excuse me, but it’s already strawberry flavored. Wouldn’t that logically help it taste better?”

“No. Nope.” He pointed to the bottle again. “That is what’s killing the children. Dr. Pepper having a strawberries and cream flavor? We’re truly failing as a society.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving his arm lightly and pointing towards the checkout counter. “Let’s get going. I wanna try it out.”

When you got into Eddie’s van, he quickly put your drinks in his half-broken cupholders. Your fault, three months ago. Talk about greening out when you kept trying to shove a drink in and repeatedly hit the plastic until half of it snapped off. The van was pretty clean today, surprising Eddie. He’d tried to clean it out the best he could this morning, getting up way too early to do so. Maybe it was to impress you. Who knew. He certainly didn’t. Not at all.

You twisted off the caps as Eddie pulled the strawberry syrup out of his pocket.

“Half for you, you sick fuck,” he said as he carefully poured the pink liquid into your Dr. Pepper. You let out a hearty laugh as he let the rest drip into his own. “Half for me.”

You put the caps back on your drinks before carefully mixing them together, teetering them back and forth to reduce the likelihood of an explosion. Eddie grinned at you and you couldn’t help but smile back, tapping his bottle with yours.

Before either of you could take your first sip, Eddie said, “Hey, don’t shotgun it.”

You feigned offense. “What? Me? Why would you dare accuse me of being so irresponsible?”

But you knew why. You knew precisely why. There was something about trying stuff with Eddie, from his fresh edibles to the slushies on tap at the hemp store, Jailbait Hemp. (The name was absolutely cringe worthy but you and Eddie swore it was the best place in the city.) Then there were the pre-rolls, the dabs, the potent gummies. You didn’t want to get Eddie started on how many chocolate bars you’d scarfed down before getting a stomach ache and needing to lie down and watch three movies. It wasn’t necessarily unlike you to get ahead of yourself, downing whatever was given to you immediately, especially ones with high doses. Just to see what would happen. Just to have the experience.

Eddie both loved and hated that about you. You’d never thrown up or done something stupid because of it, (other than the tragic cup holder incident), always a little quieter depending on the level of inebriation you were operating on. He loved it the most when the two of you got high in public, like today. Neither one of you were ever loud or obvious about it, usually giggling with one another in hushed whispers. It was actually quite nice.

But, most of all, he loved getting high with you in public because you held his hand. Anywhere you went, whether it be to walk around Hobby Lobby or taking in nature at a nearby park, you held onto him as tightly as you could. You’d told him once, in a haze of one of those blue raspberry Delta-9 slushies, that you felt safe by his side, knowing no one could hurt you when he was there. His mere presence left you feeling more relaxed than at any other point of the day. Even when you were sober.

He’d looked at you after you said that, stunned by your admission. You’d said it simply, as if it was just a well-known fact that he should’ve known already. Even when you’d looked away from him to gaze back out over the Chattahoochee River, surrounded by loud families and barking dogs, he couldn’t help but soften around the edges. Water had collected in his eyes, nearly slipping out and over his rosy cheeks. But he’d forced himself to look away, to fight the urge to confess that you made him feel the same way. (And then some.)

Eddie only hoped he’d see the day where you took his hand without the THC in your system.

“Yes, you, Weirdo.” Eddie shook his head. “Do you not remember when we made that beer cheese with that Delta-Whatever shit your sister got us for your birthday and then you took half of the cheese and—”

As he spoke, you quickly tipped the bottle into your mouth and began to chug.

Eddie said your name with an exasperated sigh. “You’re literally the stupidest person I’ve ever met.”

Unable to respond verbally, you winked at him and threw up a middle finger, letting the seamless mixture of Dr. Pepper and artificial strawberry flavoring slide down your throat. Usually there was an aftertaste of THC in different products. But you couldn’t even taste the syrup. It was like there was nothing else in the drink. Brilliant.

Eddie only shook his head with a smile, knocking back nearly half of his drink just to give in to your antics. Why not? It was a lazy Thursday, anyways.

This was one of those rare occasions when you and Eddie had the same day off of work. It usually happened once or twice a month, leading you both to take the opportunity to go by Jailbait Hemp, find something new to try, split the cost, and see what happens.

As the bottle left your lips with a small pop, you couldn’t help but let a loud burp ripple through the air, smiling proudly. Eddie squinted his eyes with a serious expression on his face, pretending to listen intently like he was interpreting art.

“That might’ve been my best one,” you admitted, your face a bit smug as you slammed the empty bottle back into the pitiful cup holder.

Eddie shrugged. “That was about a six, Weirdo.”

“A six?” you asked incredulously. “Are you joking? I don’t think I’ve ever reached that octave before.”

“Sweetheart, you forget that you have the world champion in front of you.”

“Prove it!” you exclaimed, leaning in and scrunching your nose at him. Taunting him further, you added, “You won’t.”

Eddie mirrored your expression, the two of you looking at each other like mischievous little kids. The kind of misbehavior that would get you sent to the office in middle school with a threat of suspension and mud smeared over your clothes like a 1st Place ribbon.

“Fine,” he said before beginning to down his Sprite. Before you could compliment him on his shotgunning abilities, his burp rang through the van, loud and deep, clearly ten times better than anything you could muster.

Even in your obvious defeat, you had to suppress a laugh, trying as hard as you could to continue the bit. “That was obviously a two,” you said. “They should’ve crowned someone else.”

Eddie swatted your arm and you did the same. “You’re an absolute menace, you know that? And a liar.” Before you could offer a witty retort, he said, “Now, come on. This’ll hit soon and I don’t wanna be driving when it does. We got shit to do.”

“What’re we doing at the aquarium?” you asked as Eddie pulled into the parking garage. There was a banner above it, fading from a penguin swimming in the ocean to three more resting on rocks. You’d always found it adorable, filling you with excitement.

“Uh, well, uh,” he stumbled as he stretched through his window and grabbed a parking voucher. “Yeah,” he continued as he set it on the console and drove through. “I just thought that the syrup would go well with the fish, you know? And it’s deserted right now, being Thursday and all. Also, don’t worry about a ticket. I got you covered.”

You gawked at him. As Eddie parked and reached for the seatbelt latch, you placed a hand on his shoulder. His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“Eddie, it’s, like, fifty dollars to get in. Let me get my own,” you pleaded. “Or we could go somewhere else. I know money’s tight for both of us as it is.”

Eddie shook his head, his smile beginning to falter. “You like to come at least once every summer,” he murmured, looking down to fiddle with the seatbelt still in place. “I wanted to do something nice for you, you know? You’re my best friend.”

Your heart ached a bit at the way he said “best friend.” It sounded removed, like a placeholder for something else, something more. He looked up to meet your eyes again and you felt some part of you wince as a wave of emotion bubbled inside your chest.

Because that was just the thing, wasn't it? He wasn’t just your best friend. He was the one you spent most of your time with, the person you swapped places with for a sleepover almost weekly. The person you went on mindless adventures with to explore Atlanta, window shopping all of the mansions out in Buckhead for when Eddie would become a rockstar and (jokingly) leave you a tiny guest house in the back.

The person who had remembered an insignificant detail about you and decided to give you a present.

All you wanted was to lean over, to lightly brush your lips over his, slowly leaving remnants of a soft Thank you. But you couldn’t. No matter how much you suspected Eddie’s affections, you couldn’t attempt to make a move.

So you opted to slowly headbutt his arm and get out of the car.

“You’re so weird,” he teased as you walked around the side of the van.

“So-rry that I’m showing my best friend affection,” you joked back. “We don’t always have to hate each other.”

Eddie snorted, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets. “Ah, yep. Definitely. We hate each other so fucking much.” He stopped suddenly. You raised an eyebrow as he turned to you, jumping into a fighter’s stance before waving an imaginary sword in your direction. “I am here to avenge my father’s death!” he exclaimed, mimicking a warrior’s bellow. “You will pay, scoundrel.”

You jumped into a similar position, moving your imaginary sword closer to his chest. He moved with you, as if to block your approach. “Thee foul fiend,” you started with a British accent. “I will vanquish thou and feed you to the dragons. Purge you in the fiery—uh—fires of the dungeon moats.”

Eddie couldn’t keep going, bursting into a fit of snorts. You broke too, your laughter making every passerby stare. He put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer as you walked.

“‘Fiery fires’?” he asked. “That has to be the funniest shit I’ve ever heard.”

You laughed at your ridiculous word choice. “Yeah, I don’t know, man. I panicked.”

“I think I’m starting to feel it because I seriously haven’t laughed that hard in a while.”

You could be wrong. That’s what you reasoned with yourself. You had a possibility of being wrong, so you did nothing. After that first time you accidentally held his hand on sheer impulse due to the half cup of Delta-8 beer cheese you chugged, you kept doing it. He thought it was funny. He also said it was cute. Something you did was cute to him. So, whenever you were inebriated, you disguised the action and made the most of it. He always let you hold it, let you cling to him wherever you went. He never even commented on it, just accepting it when you made the contact.

And you could’ve been wrong, but Eddie was looking at you like you were the most beautiful girl in the world and he was looking at your mouth and not your eyes and there was something verging on romantic about this moment.

But there was that chance, that tiny glimpse of doubt that led you to believe you were destined for the wrong timeline. The one where it wasn’t true. You were the delusional girl in the film that would never get the love interest at the end. The one left behind.

So you held his hand tighter and looked away.

You were like a little kid when you went to the aquarium, nearly running around to each pane of glass. Looking at the different plaques, you’d search for each individual species listed, tapping on the glass each time. And that hadn’t changed. You just so happened to be a little bit more amazed by the beauty of sea life from the high.

How wonderful it was to be surrounded by a different existence! Something that humans could never truly fathom living. They moved differently than us. They felt different. Saw colors differently. They even breathed differently. Life was much bigger than just you, despite it always feeling like you and Eddie were the only ones left in the world.

For some reason, Eddie seemed a little more reserved today. He wasn’t bouncing off the walls like you were. Instead, he took his time. He responded when you spoke, of course. When you asked if it was okay to run ahead, he promised it was. He’d always catch up with you eventually, pointing out fish you hadn’t spotted yet. But he always made the time to stand back with his hands in his pockets and stare, like he was just as captivated as you were, maybe just in a different way.

Eddie didn’t tell you that he’d put aside that $100 to use once he asked you out on a date. But he’d desperately wanted to see this look on your face, your slightly red eyes wide and your mouth hanging open in awe as you witnessed the beauty surrounding you. You were nearing the end of the moving tunnel, surrounded by fish on all sides. There were even a few divers waving at the glass. The blue lighting made you something to marvel at, the ebbing water spreading dappled light over you. He knew this look, the one where you were somewhere else, in a deep appreciation of the world around you. It was when you were keenly aware of the meaning of life. He’d know it anywhere.

And it was him you were holding through it all. For some astonishing reason, you’d let him in to witness the rawest emotions overcoming you. The ones that others couldn’t be privy to, wouldn’t be. When you turned to look at him with tears in your eyes, your lips stretched across your face.

You smiled that smile, the one that told him something was hiding there, like there were words written on your lips that couldn’t be shared. While everything else was his to know, this one smile was not on the list.

Because, every time you smiled like that, Eddie asked, “What? Why’re you looking at me like that?”

Like it was a challenge. Like he wanted to push you to say what you were thinking, even if it was just out of spite.

And you’d look away, waving your hand around, saying, “What? Nothing. I’m not looking at you like anything.”

And he’d respond, “Yeah, okay, sure.”

So, like every other time, Eddie asked, “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

But this time you shrugged, holding his eye contact. “I just, uh,” you stumbled, your smile only growing. “I just really love, um…”

Eddie’s eyes began to widen at the implication of something more, something brilliant. His back straightened, the haze of the high nearly intensifying the moment. Everything was perfect. This moment was perfect and this was going to be it. You were going to finally say something.

“I just really love what you did for me,” you finished. “I appreciate it a lot.”

And just like that, Eddie was cracking under the disappointment. The high settled back underneath his skin and dragged him down. Of course you didn’t say anything. Why would you? He’d only gotten his hopes up based off of a wild theory he had. One that he knew he’d made up just so he could live in some fantasy where you were together and in love. He just wanted to project how he felt onto you. It was as simple as that.

But he couldn’t help being disappointed by it.

He only hoped that you didn’t see him deflate.

“Yeah, sure,” he responded finally, turning to look back at the fish as you stepped off the moving track. “Don’t mention it.”

You didn’t drop his hand, but as he looked away from you to keep walking, nausea began to pool in your stomach. The tank was starting to slosh you around its current and you moving along with it was making it worse.

You immediately excused yourself to go find the bathroom. When you found it, you proceeded to throw up in the trash can. Luckily no one was in there, but you still felt awful. It was an utterly embarrassing feeling, knowing that you’d just thrown up in a public space because of sea sickness that you’d never had before today from being blasted on THC syrup. Oh, and you’d almost just told your best friend that you loved him. While holding his hand. While he was also blasted from THC syrup.

God dammit.

You didn’t mention throwing up to Eddie. In fact, you’d managed to collect yourself for the rest of the day, walking through the aquarium for another hour and a half before Eddie was sober enough to drive back to your apartment. You ended up cooking enchiladas and watching two movies (The Proposal and The Invisible) before Eddie was snoring next to you, stretched out across the couch with his legs in your lap. When you realized he was asleep, you quietly turned the TV off and moved his legs carefully to rest on the couch. You draped a blanket over him and lifted his head to make sure the pillow was positioned at the right angle so his neck wouldn’t ache in the morning.

And here you were, staring up at the ceiling and recounting the errors you’d made. How you’d almost confessed your undying love for him. How you spent the rest of the day inching towards him despite feeling humiliated. How you couldn’t help but lean further in as if he was the only one who could provide you comfort from fucking up so bad.

And when Eddie found you puking from the stress at four in the morning, you knew that this was bad. It was getting harder to keep it in. This was going to boil over and it was going to be soon.

Fuck.

#Eddie munson #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #best friend!eddie #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #best friend!Eddie x reader #eeeeep I'm actually posting something yay

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angllqvr · 3 months

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“you smoke?”

word count: 828

paring: mechanic!abby x reader, quick lil drabble inspired by this

warnings: smoking, no outbreak!au not proofread

a/n: posting fanfics on the main blog might be a thing now?? woah, okay i hope this is decent bc i don’t write fluff 😭🙏 enjoy mwah

abby huffed as she pushed herself out from underneath the car she’d been working on, wiping her forehead off as it was covered in sweat. the oil of the car staining her already light grey tank top as she used her left hand to fan herself off. “fuck, it gets hot down there.” she chuckled to herself before grabbing a rag from the floor and gently dabbing it over her face.

she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye, she wanted to call out but before she even could say anything you had walked into sight. “hey, i just thought you could use a drink. looks like hard work.” you flash her a smile before holding out a bottle of water in front of her.

“i could douse myself in this right about now,” she chuckles. “you really do come in clutch sometime’s don’t you?” that evokes a smile from you as you let an airy laugh past your lips. “i suppose i do. i’m glad you aren’t opposed.” you flash a smile at her as she twists open the bottle cap and chugs the entire thing in .2 basically seconds.

“you look really pretty under there, ya know? when you’re working. you get so, like… immersed. it’s cute.” abby raises an eyebrow at you. “it’s my job, i have to focus.” she laughed— she genuinely let out a laugh. maybe at how stupid your comment was, but a laugh nonetheless. abby fucking anderson laughed at your “joke.” she found you amusing, which felt almost unbelievable.

she leaned against the car she was previously working, eyeing you up and down. the way your shorts clung to your hips so nicely, your shirt being just the right amount of tight. you looked so pretty.

you give her a smile, eyeing her yourself. particularly her muscles, how sweaty she was and how they looked so good like that. her toned arms nearly gleaming in the sunlight. the sun itself wrapping it’s way around her body outlining her silhouette. you felt your face getting hotter as you stared.

“you okay? you’ve been staring?” abby states as you quickly snap out of it and get absolutely embarrassed. “oh! i um… i just thought you looked good.” you muttered, trying to save yourself from embarrassment.

“a-anyways… uh, how was the water?” ‘what the fuck?’ you mentally cursed yourself because who the hell would bring up water… as a conversation starter…? oh god. she literally thinks you’re a loser, she’s probably holding back an entire laughing fit.. why’d you say that?

abby digs around in her pocket before pulling out a pack of marlboro reds, flipping the lid open and taking out a cigarette before placing it in her mouth and digging around in her pockets for a lighter. “shit, i forgot my lighter. you got one?” you nod, walking over next to her as you took the lighter out and flicked it on, holding it to the cigarette gently placed between her lips.

she slumps down onto the ground, looking up at you- almost as if she wanted you to sit down with her. you got the memo and smiled softly as you sat next to her. “you smoke?” you shake your head. “no, thanks though.” she nods.

she leaned her head on the top bumper looking up at the sky before she takes a long drag of her cig. her eyes glance over to you, a small smile forming on her lips which was only visible to herself.

you look over at her, scanning her face. your eyes going from her eyes to her lips. she has oil and grease stained on her face, you noted. you bring your thumb up to her cheek to wipe it off smiling at her. she doesn’t say anything, instead taking another inhale of her cigarette while staring back at you.

“you’re pretty.” you mutter under your breath, thumb still glued to her cheek as you gently wiped away all the greese stained on random parts of her face.

she chuckles, putting her cigarette out on the ground before flicking it in a completely other direction. her entire attention now focused on you. “you’re staring again.” she remarks, you rolling your eyes at the blatantly obvious observation. thanks abby.

“i’m well aware, but so are you.” before you know it she’s leaning in closer towards you, you feel your heart skip a beat, her hands going to cup your jaw as she pressed her lips against yours. you smile into her lips, wrapping your arms around her broad shoulders. you could taste the former smoke coming off her, it made you shutter. you just ignored it.

she breaks the kiss a few seconds later, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. you smile and away from her before letting out a soft chuckle. “you wanna go for coffee after this?” abby questions, you nod eagerly.

“i’d love too.” “good.”

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby x you #abby tlou #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us

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smeddiemunson · 1 year

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(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

The Harrington house is big and it’s nice to look at, or it would be if Gareth was into the boring minimalist style, but there’s no warmth to it.

That’s all he could notice while he was pulling off his jeans and neatly folding them up to place on the top of a chest of draws in a guest bedroom. The walls are white and the accents a single shade of brown. Even Gareth’s oppressively suburban home had more character than this.

And it just didn’t seem to fit with Steve. Steve, in Gareth’s admittedly limited understanding of him, was more suited to a smaller but still nice house, with appliances that made funny noises if they weren’t used the right way, and was always full of people. A house that had character built into its very foundations.

He met Jeff and Grant back in the kitchen, trying his hardest not to stare too long at the single family portrait hung at the end of the hallway. Jeff was wearing red shorts and Grant was wearing blue ones. It seemed that only Gareth got the memo about wearing black and committing to the Not-Cult Cult aesthetic.

“What’s the plan then, Gare-Bear?” Jeff asked as Gareth sidled up next to them.

Gareth grabbed a can off the side, it was fresh out of the fridge and had condensation trickling down the sides. He assumed it was alright to take it. “I’m gonna talk to Buckley, feel out how to go about this.”

“And what should we do?” Grant asked.

“Make sure Eddie doesn’t do anything stupid?”

Grant scoffed. “Dude, you’ve met him, be serious.”

“I am!” Gareth replied. “I want this to work out for them and that means keeping Eddie’s foot out of his mouth.”

They all paused to remember the many, many times that Eddie’s inability to shut up had gotten them in trouble. He was great at talking himself out of trouble as well, but it was always preferable to not be in trouble in the first place.

“So make sure Eddie doesn’t say something stupid before he can confess his love and get a pass for all the stupid shit he says?”

Gareth allowed himself to chuckle. “Yeah, something like that.”

He led them all back out to the garden, cracking open the can as he went. The cold liquid felt good sliding down his throat; it wasn’t quite the peak of the summer and it was only going to get hotter, but Gareth didn’t think there was much point in not enjoying the smaller things in life.

Eddie was perched on the edge of the pool, kicking his feet gently where they were submerged in the water, as he spoke to Steve. Steve who was in the pool but had pulled himself out enough to rest his crossed arms on the poolside and use them as a pillow for his head. They looked like they belonged in a movie; so caught up in one another that they didn’t react to the screaming from the others playing chicken (Nancy on Jonathan’s shoulders and Robin on Argyle’s).

Gareth was shocked to see the way Steve was looking at him. He knew Steve was into Eddie, that much was obvious, but until that moment he had just thought it was a little crush.

This put a bit of a spanner in the works of his original plan of getting everyone to play enough party games until they could get Steve and Eddie together in seven minutes in heaven.

“Eddie!” Jeff shouted, “Did you smoke all the weed while we were getting changed?”

Eddie gasped dramatically, clutching at his heart. “Would I ever do that to you Jeffy?”

“Yes,” Jeff deadpanned.

Steve laughed delightedly, bumping Eddie in the knee with his elbow.

“Fine, fine,” Eddie threw his hands up in surrender. “Stevie said we aren’t allowed to smoke and swim so we didn’t light it.”

“I don’t want you to drown,” Steve said quietly, a haunted look crossing over his face that left as quickly as it came.

Eddie reached out to squeeze his shoulder, something unsaid passing between them. “I’m still here.”

Steve nodded, then shook his head with a small smile, as if he knew he was being silly.

Gareth shared a glance with his band mates, Eddie pointedly avoiding it. Another thing that would never be explained to them.

Luckily the game of chicken came to an end with Robin crashing down into the water, her legs pulling Argyle with her, to the tune of Nancy and Jonathan yelling in triumph to break Steve out of whatever spiral he’d fallen into.

Steve turned towards them with a smile. He patted Eddie’s hand where it was still on his shoulder then pushed off from the wall to join his friends, calling for his turn.

Eddie’s hand hovered in the air for a second before falling back down to his side.

Robin broke off from the group, stating her intention to grab another drink as she furiously tried to push her now wet hair out of her eyes. Argyle eagerly called for Steve to go against Nancy this time.

Gareth nodded to Jeff and Grant. “Go cheer him up. I hate it when he looks like a kicked puppy.”

“Guy doesn’t know what he has with those eyes, I swear,” Jeff mumbled as he and Grant moved to sit either side of Eddie, both bumping shoulders with him.

Gareth waited until Robin was digging through the cooler and muttering to herself to join her.

She jumped slightly as she turned away from the cooler and realised that Gareth was there, evidently having not heard him approach.

“Buckley,” He greeted.

“Emerson.”

Gareth winced. This wasn’t supposed to be some sort of Mexican standoff. So he changed angles.

“Eddie says you know about him.”

Robin’s features softened. “Yeah and I know you’re protecting your friend, but I promise I will never ever do anything to hurt him. None of us will.|”

Gareth smiled. “I wasn’t worried about that.”

“So what can I help you with?”

Gareth rubbed his hands over his face. He was suddenly faced with no idea how to word his questions.

“Have you noticed that Eddie has a crush?”

Robin laughed loudly, waving away the bemused glances thrown her way from the pool. “Yeah, I have. I’ve noticed Steve’s too because I know that’s going to be your next question. They’re kinda unbearable to be around sometimes.”

“Oh,” Gareth chuckled, a weight lifted off his shoulders. “Good.”

“Why? Are you planning something?” She sat forward, a manic smile on her face and clutching her can so hard there were small dents in the aluminium from her fingers.

“I was thinking seven minutes in heaven but...” he sighed. “They’re too into each other to have their moment be during a stupid game.”

“You really care about Eddie, don’t you?” Robin asked gently.

Gareth narrowed his eyes on her. “Of course I do, he’s my best friend.”

Robin held her hands up in surrender. “I’m not judging you. I feel the same way about Steve.”

“Good. That’s good”

They both fell quiet as they watched their friends. Steve, on Argyle’s shoulders, laughing at Nancy and Jonathan arguing as they strategised. Eddie was squashed between Jeff and Grant, batting on their chests to release him. If it weren’t for his hair not being tied back, Gareth knew he would have thrown himself into the pool to escape. He knew Jeff and Grant knew that as well.

“So what are we going to do?” Gareth asked.

“I don’t know,” Robin said. “But we’ll figure something out.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the pool. Gareth and Eddie made a great team for the chicken tournament, but Argyle won the biggest splash competition they got going. It was funny to just act like teenagers, no school to worry about or crazy religious types out on witch hunts.

Steve handed them all towels as the sun began to go down. Their fingertips wrinkled and dry as Eddie finally got to light the joints to pass around. They laughed and shared stories; Gareth even got to share his favourite about Eddie calling him from a phone booth in the middle of the night so Gareth could steal his mom’s car to go get him since his plan to hitchhike his way home failed.

At some point, pizza was ordered while they lazed around. The joints had long since been smoked down to their cherry and discarded on the floor to clean up later when they were less drunk or high. Steve had told them not to worry about it.

Gareth spent his time watching Steve and Eddie pass tapes back and forth, heads leant close as they discussed the music on them, occasionally stopping the tape playing so they could switch it out for whatever song they were agreeing or disagreeing about. He made eye contact with Robin who just smiled gently, so fond of her friends. If he was able to see himself, her look was probably reflected on his own face.

The doorbell rang, heard out in the yard only because Steve’s parents had a device installed that rang a bell outside in case they weren’t inside to be able to hear the actual doorbell.

Steve jumped up to get it.

“Eddie go help him,” Robin said, pushing her toes into Eddie’s arm in a half hearted shove.

“Stevie’s got it,” Eddie moaned, clearly not wanting to move from his spot.

Robin shared a conspiratorial grin with Nancy, then both chorused, “Don’t ya, big boy.”

Jonathan and Argyle looked just as confused as Gareth felt. He never got the full story from Eddie about what happened over spring break, Eddie was alive and that was enough for him, but sometimes he wished he could know just so he understood what the fuck was going on.

Eddie flushed bright red all over his body. “Shut up,” he hissed. But it was evidently enough to get him to jump and follow Steve into the house.

Before Gareth could even attempt to ask about it, Nancy swung her legs around off the sun lounger and clasped her hands together.

“So,” She said as she pushed her sunglasses up into her hair. “We all saw that right?”

“Saw what?” Robin squeaked.

Gareth didn’t bury his face in his hands at her lack of subtlety.

“Steve and Eddie are very obviously flirting with each other,” Nancy said slowly, deliberately.

Jonathan hummed in agreement. “Yeah, it’s not the first time either.”

Robin opened and closed her mouth like a fish as she tried to come up with something to say. Obviously she couldn’t say anything that would out her best friend, but if she denied being able to see it then she ran the risk of being committed to a mental institution. She looked scared.

“And is that a problem, Wheeler?”

Gareth couldn’t be sure where the venom in his voice came from, he was sure that Nancy Wheeler was a nicer girl than her pinched features sometimes made her appear, but seeing Robin flounder and the thought of Eddie facing even more bullshit than he already had made something protective flare to life inside of him.

Nancy sniffed disdainfully. “Obviously not. I would die for those two, I just want them to be happy.”

A tense silence fell over them.

“They don’t know that we know,” Robin said quietly.

“So we can’t be obvious,” Jonathan replied. “Doesn’t mean we can’t encourage them in the right direction.”

Argyle, his eyes trained on the stereo still playing a Queen song, a thoughtful look on his face that looked completely alien. He turned to where Gareth, Jeff and Grant were all sitting together on the same sun lounger. “You’re in a band right?”

Shit. Argyle was right. Gareth mentally cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner. Eddie had learnt Steve’s favourite song, they were going to play Steve’s favourite song as soon as they got it down; the drunks that usually watch them would probably appreciate something more country-rock than metal.

“Argyle, you’re a genius.”

(Part 5 (final))

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #gareth emerson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle stranger things #my fic #the queen song is you're my best friend; it's not important but it's also very important because #you're my sunshine and i want you to know that my feelings are true i really love you #you know?#corroded coffin

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sadhours · 11 months

Note

this idea is rlly niche so if u don’t like it that much that’s fine l!

billy having an oral fixation, just managed to quit smoking but he’s still irritated. Maybe it’s night, ur reading a book and he just comes over and latches onto ur tits. But it’s like so messy, because he just keeps sucking/licking and it gets to the point where it’s too sensitive and you have to beg him to stop. So he just goes over to ur other tit and does it all over.🧎‍♀️

I LOVE THIS IDEA!!! I hope you love what I’ve done with it ♥️

It’s been a long fucking day. You were swamped at work, which was not typical for your office job. Usually, you had time to read your book or flip through a magazine but today, the phone was just ringing off the hook and your boss had so many memos for you to type up. By the time you got home, you’d gathered all the energy you had to cook dinner and shower. Once you were done with those, you collapsed on the bed and pulled the novel you’ve been attached to up to your face to read.

Your boyfriend, Billy, was busy with something that was actually pretty noisy but you couldn’t tell what it was. However, he’d just recently quit smoking so Billy was rather agitated more often than not. Which meant he did tasks a little louder, taking out his frustrations on whatever he was doing. You were proud of him for quitting and eager to help, you read many pamphlets in search of ways to ease the process. You’d read that the oral fixation was the hardest habit to break, so you’d bought him a ton of gum and even this little plastic contraption that was supposed to mimic the shape of a cigarette. Billy chewed on it for about a week before he grew frustrated and chucked it out the window of the Camaro.

When he walks into the bedroom, the frustration is etched all over his features. Lip curling, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched. It’s almost adorable, he looks like an angry little puppy. You fight the urge to giggle and keep reading your book. He’s loud in the bathroom as he gets ready for bed and he takes longer than usual, but once he’s climbing under the covers, he’s clinging to your side.

“Rough day, babe?” you ask, petting his head gently and smoothing your hand over his curls.

“Yes,” he says, cheek squished against your shoulder. It’s so cute you lean down to kiss the crown of his head.

“Tomorrow will be better,” you say before going back to your book.

You can feel Billy’s eyes flicker from your face to the book before he scoots himself lower on the bed and pushes your t-shirt up over your breasts. You lift your book and watch him curiously for a second, he’s just smoothing his hands across your stomach and looking at your chest. Again, you return back to your novel.

Then you feel Billy’s warm, wet tongue circle around your nipple.

At first, you tell him to stop, you’ve been wanting to read all day and haven’t had a chance.

“Keep reading then,” he says, “Don’t mind me.”

Well, if this gets his mind off of smoking, then you can’t really protest, can you?

Your eyes follow along the words, trying hard to understand them while he licks against your tender skin. Billy’s fully aware of how sensitive your nipples are. Hell, you have to have some kind of attention on them to cum at all. So comprehending the words you’re reading is a challenge to say the least, you’ve read the same sentence three times now. His tongue is unrelenting, lapping at the bud and you can feel his saliva coating your entire breast. You bite your lip hard and read the sentence again, determined to understand it this time. You get the first three words down and then Billy sucks your nipple in between his lips, causing a throaty groan to escape from you. You can feel him smile against your chest and you huff, starting the sentence over again while he continues mouthing at you. You’re gonna read this chapter, whether it takes you all night.

You finally get through the paragraph but you’re panting, fingers shaking as you turn the page and it’s starting to be too much. It’s starting to hurt with how sensitive you are and how messy he’s being. The sheer sound of his mouth slurping at your perked nipple makes your legs quiver and you toss the book down.

“Billy,” you whine, pushing his head away gently, “too sensitive.”

You look down to see his plump, pink lips turning up into a smile and his tongue darting out to flick against your nipple.

“Billy, I mean it,” you whimper.

He grabs the book up again and hands it to you and for a second, you think he’s finished. You hesitantly take the book and find your place again. Then he’s leaning to the other breast and licking broadly against it. You stifle a moan, eyes falling shut but you want to keep the illusion that you’re still reading. He laps at you, sloppy and loud, his hand planted firmly on your side. It’s almost already too much, your pussy is aching and you’re sure you’ve soaked through your thin underwear.

“Christ,” you exhale, feeling a shiver rush down your spine as Billy sucks on your right nipple.

He chuckles softly before biting the flesh just under your nipple. You let out a squeal, back arching at the welcomed assault. Again, you toss the book, knitting your fingers into his hair as you watch his mouth at your breast once again. It’s sinful sight. His lips shiny, swollen just like your nipple. His eyes lock onto yours while he swirls his tongue against your perked bud.

“You’re so pretty,” you blurt out and he laughs, mouth open against your chest. His breath fans against your nipple and you squeeze your thighs together, aching for some kind of relief down there. Billy grabs a hold of your breasts and pushes them together, licking and biting the sensitive skin.

“Your mouth is fucking sinful,” you tell him, sighing softly.

He chuckles again before licking a broad stroke between your tits. You exhale and he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your shorts, inching them down your thighs as his mouth descends, licking every inch of skin in his wake. He bites along the thin skin across your hipbone. You gasp, watching him carefully as he soothes the bite with his warm tongue. You ache all over in anticipation, he’s dangerously close to the place you desire him most. He pushes your thighs open, scratching at the flesh as he grabs it.

“Fucking,” you gasp, “Fuck…”

He smirks up at you, spreading you apart with his fingers and letting out a pleased, low laugh.

“You’re soaking…” he observes aloud, moving his fingers around as he peers between your legs.

“S’all your fault,” you admit, honestly as you roll your hips up.

“I wanna taste,” he purrs before dipping his tongue down against your fluttering hole.

A sharp gasp pushes past your lips as you spread your legs even wider, knuckles white where you’re gripping the bedspread tight. Billy chuckles softly at your reaction and delivers experimental licks around your entrance. Hot white euphoria erupts in your stomach when his tongue slides inside of you. Billy takes his time, licking up through your folds to circle your clit before penetrating you with his tongue over and over.

“Goddamn, Billy…” you pant out, “more…”

He pulls back and bites at the flesh of your thigh, pressing his palm against your core as he does so. He applies pressure with his hand but doesn’t move it at all, sucking a sizable hickey into your skin. It’s the complete opposite of what you’ve asked for but you’re not complaining, it feels amazing too. He decorates your thighs with a handful more love bites before he removes his hand and puts his mouth back where you need it. He’s more persistent this time, hungrier in his actions as he laps at your heat, grunting and humming.

A moan tears out of you and you knot your fingers into his hair, pushing his face further between your legs if it’s possible. You’re so glad he’s quit smoking, he’s so much more eager in this moment.

“Holy… fuck,” you cry out when he slips two fingers inside your hole easily, curling them up as he pumps them in and out. You swear you can feel him smile.

His tongue circles around your clit before he sucks it between his lips, pulling a choked cry from you because it’s a little too much yet not enough at the same time. Your back arches and you move a hand to squeeze at your own breast before pinching your nipple between your fingers. Billy’s stunning blue eyes meet yours and you bite your lip, chest heaving as you stare down at him. The sight of him is an absolute dream. It pushes your climax further along, you can’t help but feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.

“Billy,” you whine, tugging on his hair gently.

He pulls back slightly and licks his lips, “Yeah?”

“Need you,” you gasp.

A smirk spreads across his lips, his fingers haven’t faltered for a second and each time he thrusts them up, the tips stroke against your g-spot. “Not yet,” he purrs, “You haven’t came yet.”

He flicks his tongue against your clit before going back to work, completely putting his mouth on you and your head falls back against the pillow. Your orgasm creeps up on you fast, you don’t even realize it’s happening until it does. Your legs snap shut, trapping his head between them as you jerk your hips up and cry out. Billy’s making a pleased sound against your core, working his fingers faster as you ride out the waves. You fall limp against the mattress, hands falling to your sides as your legs release your lovers head. Billy pulls his fingers out just to slide them between his lips and suck them clean.

As your catching your breath, you watch Billy shove his briefs down and his cock springs up against his stomach, the tip flushed and leaking. Your whole body vibrates in anticipation, ready for more. He leans down and presses a bruising kiss against your lips. You grab onto him, weighing against him impatiently.

“Ready for my cock, baby?” he asks against your mouth.

You nod, “I need it.”

“Yes, you do,” he grins, reaching between your bodies so he can grab a hold of his cock and slip it inside you. The remnants of your climax make it so slick and delicious it has you both groaning out in pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours, panting softly as he rolls his hips slowly.

Your fingernails scratch down his back, urging him to go harder and faster. You need it so bad, you feel like an addict.

“More, need more,” you plead, voice trembling.

Billy exhales a short laugh, you can feel his breath against your lips and nose. “So desperate,” he tsks, grabbing a hold of your face when he pulls back so he has better leverage.

He moves his other hand to your hip and holds you down, pounding into you relentlessly now. A collection of moans, cries and groans flow out of you every time he thrusts into you. It’s intoxicating the way he holds you down and chases his high, taking you completely. You’re fueled from it, clinging onto his back, his skin is sticky and cool with sweat.

“Billy,” you babble out, the force of his hips jerking your body.

“S’that feel good, baby?” he says with a pout, his voice slow and little condescending.

“Mhm,” you whine, “So good, Billy… love it so much.”

He grins down at you, “yeah? You look so pretty stuffed full of cock.”

His filthy words make you feel on fire, your second orgasm zeroing in on you fast. It’s always like this, Billy can pull them out of you so quickly once he knocks the first one out. His record in five in one session but you were exhausted afterwards, you slept like twelve hours and felt like you were in a haze the whole next day.

“Gonna cum,” you tell him, voice already wrecked.

“Already?” he teases, moving his hand from your jaw to play with your nipple.

That seals the deal, you’re coming again with a cry as you thrash around beneath him. Billy allows you to ride it out for a minute before he’s grabbing onto your hips and slamming into you brutally, totally focused on his own orgasm. He teaches it quickly, pulling out and coating your stomach in white ropes. He rests his palm on the mattress and closes his eyes as he catches his breath. He reaches for his briefs and uses them to clean the mess up before laying beside you and pulling you close, pressing kisses against your shoulder and neck.

“Now, I really need a fucking smoke,” he complains with a laugh.

#billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x reader

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s-4pphics · 1 year

Text

scent of the pine. 5 (e.w)

*takes off grad cap* alright . here we go.

wc;cw: 17.1k everybody died, sistersbestfriend!ellie, guitarist/producer!ellie, violinist!oc, age gap(three years), all ocs r blackcoded, SMUT!! MDNI!!!, phone sex, masturbation, mean ellie, weed alcohol nics yall know wassup, dubcon, virginity loss, masochism LOL, light bondage, dirty talk, ASSSPLAAAYYY😝, dp, mult. orgasms, subspace and drop, squirting, slapping(face ass tits pussy lol), toys, slight angst but also fluff, just lots of spit n cum

You’ve been very gloomy these past couple of months.

You hadn’t stopped thinking about Ellie since you left her home that morning, up until you and Arya jumped on the train to return to campus.

You’d never be able to express to Arya how much you appreciated her presence: she allowed you to cry, whine, pout, and sniffle about how much you missed Ellie, and she comforted you through all of it with gentle whispers of you’re gonna be fine, bitch! you’re gonna get piped down soon! I promise! Although you felt a bit selfish dumping your girl problems on her, she never made you feel guilty and justified that you always listened to her ramble about her hook-ups and high rambles. The only time she’d ever complained about anything related to your sorrowful monologues about missing Ellie’s laugh and smile and tongue was when you two had to work on your Music & Production Theory assignment (I’m gonna kill you if we fail and you’ll die dickless! Don’t play with me!).

…But other than that, she’s been so sweet!

Ellie has also been keeping in touch ever since you left. She sent you snaps of Duchess zooming around the house, her meals for the day, and three-second voice memos of her new project she was working on. You knew that she’d been flying back and forth to California and had a packed schedule with her producer friends whenever she was there, but your heart couldn’t help but turn gray when you wouldn’t hear from her for a few days.

Now it's March, and you and Arya are sitting on the floor as you glared searing holes into your phone. Ellie sent you a text when you were in class earlier saying that she missed your voice and was going to call you the second she had the opportunity. And you weren’t going to miss it. Ellie was worth wasting your Saturday night on!

“I’m not gonna lie girl,” Arya's voice cut through your intense phone-staring. “I’ve definitely had my dickmatized moments but you’re kinda crazy.”

You looked up at Arya as she carefully packed her blunt to get ready for her smoke sesh with her friends, concerned look on her face. It made you frown.

“What, why? What’d I do?” You asked with your brows pulled down.

And before you could hear her answer, you got a notification. You nearly snapped your wrists at the speed your hands flew to grab your phone to see if it was Ellie, your eyes bulging at your screen, only to see that your sister snapped you. You sighed in slight disappointment before opening it.

You ignored Arya’s snickering.

Your sister sent you a picture of her with hairspray and a lighter in her hand with a caption IM MOVING TF OUT I CANT TAKE THIS SHIT NO MORE BUGS R EVERYWHERE WHAT IN THE FUCK.

You couldn’t hold in your laugh as you snapped her back before Arya stood and went to the bathroom with a change of clothes in hand.

You heard the shower turn on as you got up and onto your bed to mindlessly scroll through Twitter.

After ten minutes of scrolling through a Best Euphoria Character breakdown thread, you got a text from Ellie, and you nearly squealed in excitement.

hiiii im sorry i havent been able to b on my phone like that :( been super busy with this sample

i just wanted 2 let u know that i might have 2 call u another time we still have a bunch of layering to do for this track n we’re on a timer. i miss u so fucking bad

You couldn’t ignore the sadness in your chest, but you texted back understandingly anyway.

it’s ok :( i miss u too. miss ur voice :(

Her reply bubble immediately popped up.

i know baby fuckkkk i miss ur voice so fucking bad im ab to start asking 4 daily voice memos 🤨

You smiled at your screen so wide.

LOOOOOOOL ur annoying

You typed and sent a follow up before she could.

go back 2 work 🥰🥰

kiss :(

mwah

mwah mwah mwah

You put your phone on your chest, and you couldn’t stop the smile that grew on your face. She made you so, so happy.

The bathroom door opened, steam from the warm water exiting the room along with a towel-clad Arya.

“What you cheesin’ so hard for, girl?” She said as she grabbed her edge control off her desk.

“Nothin’,” you said with a dreamy sigh as you stared off past her.

“…Uh huh, I’m heading out soon, I’ll be back late tonight, so don’t wait up.” She said with a smirk.

“Don’t forget to send me your location,” you reminded her.

She let out a quick course, baby before she went back into the bathroom.

You went back to scrolling through Twitter until your eyelids got heavy. A comfortably dressed Arya—she’s definitely getting some— kissed your forehead and dimmed your dorm lights before she left, and you dozed off.

You jolted awake as Rotation blasted in your ears. You drowsily picked your phone up and saw a el:3🌲 and 2:34AM across your home screen.

You perked up immediately to answer, sitting up so fast that you went lightheaded for a second.

“Hello?”

“Hi, you,” Ellie’s light voice rang through the phone. “Were you sleep? M’sorry, we can talk la— “

“No! No, I’m up, I was just napping, hi,” you said as you grinned softly at her laugh, laying on your back. “You’re up late. Did you guys finish?”

“No, but we were exhausted, so we called off for the night. And one of my partners kept rambling about this girl he needed to call, so,” Her voice was already making you squirm. Thank god she couldn’t see you. “But I wanted to talk to you, couldn’t help myself.”

“Oh my god, you’re so obsessed, damn,” you said with a giggle.

“Fuuuuck yeah, sooo obsessed, need to drink your bath water, shit, I think I’m dying!” she said in an overly desperate, dried out tone, making you laugh harder.

Both of your laughs calmed down before she started talking, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Umm…” She sounded a bit nervous, and it instantly made you antsy. “I know you’re not gonna be back for a couple weeks or whatever, but I just… like I was gonna ask if you wanted to do something, like just the two of us…”

And a sly grin grew on your face. “Ellie… are you asking me out, right now?”

The other line was silent as you heard her move around and sigh before she spoke. “…This was literally the worst way to ask a girl out, fuck, m’sorry— “

You cut through her jittery rambles. “Ellie, stop apologizing! That’s so cute! Of course, I’ll go out with you!”

You heard her release a deep breath as she said, “Fuck, thank god, holy shit, I was so nervous. It’s been so long since I’ve done that. Almost shoved my vape down my throat.”

You laughed as your heart beat quickened. “You really gonna wine and dine me when I come home? We’re that serious?”

“Ohhh, we're that serious, you're eating nothing but lobster and pasta when I see you, swear to god.”

You snorted at her, “Okay, sugar daddy, get me a new car while you're at it. With insurance.”

“Anything you want, baby.” She said with a sleazy laugh.

You hummed at her offer in attempts to mask the pounding of your heart, but she mocked you, humming back at you in a higher tone.

“Shut up! I’m just thinking!”

“Oh, yeah? About what?”

You suddenly felt shy as her voice lowered. It was so much deeper. “Just… just you, I guess, I dunno, miss you.”

You heard her shuffle again before she asked softly, a smirk evident in her tone, “You miss me?”

You let out a quiet, but eager mhm! as your tummy swirled with want.

You listened to her gentle breathing before she asked, “Your roomie home?”

And your heartbeat picked up, your eyes fluttering as your blinking slowed.

“N-no, she’s gone.”

“Then lay down for me, baby.”

You instantly fell on your back, your scarfed head hitting your silk pillows. Your face was boiling hot, “I am.”

“You sound nervous, you good?” she asked you gently.

“M’great, just… yeah, I’m okay, want you to keep talking.”

“Stop me whenever, you understand?” Her tone was much more serious, and it made your thighs clench, your boyshorts growing wetter.

You whined out a uhhuh!, but she corrected you immediately, “Say you understand.”

“I understand! I get it, El!” Fuck, you wished she were here to touch you. To scold you in person.

You heard giggling and more shuffling around through the speaker, “You gotta shirt on?”

“Mhm.”

She chuckled lightly, “Take it off, take off everything while you're at it.”

Your heartbeat spiked, “But Arya might come back.”

“That’s why you have a blanket, honey.”

…Fair.

You quickly set your phone on your pillow, reaching for the hem of your shirt, lifting it up to pull it over your head, tossing it to the floor. You arched your ass up to pull your boyshorts off and kicked them to the foot of your bed. You reached for your phone again.

“Okay, m’ready now.”

“Such a cutie,” she cooed at you. You could hear the grin through her words. “Gonna make you cum so hard the second I get my hands on you.”

You whimpered into the speaker as your walls squeezed. Fuck, fuckfuck.

“You make me go fuckin’ crazy, can’t stop thinking about you.”

“M-me, too.”

“Yeah? What d’you think about?”

Say it! your brain yelled at you. She already knows you’re a slut, just say what you want!

“...Umm…”

“Talk to me, baby, about anything you want.”

You gulped, heart pounding in your ears, “Your… your hands? They’re… really nice.”

“Yeah? What about ‘em is nice?”

“Ellie…”

“Like when they touch you all over, when they hold you down?”

“Yes,” you barely whispered as your free hand traveled down your body. Not touching anywhere specifically, just roaming.

“Know you do, they get you so fuckin’ hot,” She breathed through the line. “Wanna touch yourself?”

“Yeah, w’na so bad.”

“Say please.”

“Ellieee— “

She cut off your embarrassed whines with a nastily casual tone, “I'll hang up right now. Ask nicely.”

You balled your traveling hand up in a fist as you pleaded with an upset pout, “Please, Ellie.”

“Please what.”

“… Please help me?”

“….”

“C’mon Ellie! Please make me cum! I wanna cum!”

Her condescending laugh pierced through your ears, “Touch those pretty fuckin’ tits since I didn’t get to before you left.”

You moaned out as your pointer finger and thumb rolled your stiffened nipple as you squirmed.

“They’re so fucking sensitive, got my sheets so wet when I played with ‘em. Wan’em in my mouth again, shit.”

You pulled at your other nipple, and you let out a moan into the speaker.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, miss you so fucking bad.”

“Miss you so much, Ellie, can’t wait t’see you.” You cried out quietly. Your pussy was clenching with need.

“Touch your pussy, babygirl, rub your clit. Get it nice and wet f’me.”

You followed her instructions at a lightning speed, spreading your legs wider and reaching your hand all the way down to bring your slick to your clit. Your breathing picked up as you slowly rubbed it into your bud, hips jerking.

“Tell me how wet it is,” you could hear how shaky her voice was getting, breathing labored. She was touching herself to you touching yourself, and it was making you wetter. It made you burn. It made you want to get her there.

“M’really wet, El,” you mewled out to her, trying to ignore your bashfulness.

“Yeah? S’dripping on your bed like it did on mine?”

“Shit, yes, I feel it.”

“Fuuuck, bet it’s so fucking tight, gonna break that pretty pussy in so good.”

“Want you to. Want you inside me s’bad, please.”

“Gonna give you whatever you want, promise, shit.”

You felt that feeling coming over you before you could think, “Think m’gonna cum, baby—“

“Already? Always cum so fucking quick—“

“I-I just miss you!”

“Then cum for me, love.”

“G’na, daddy!” You heard her groan at the name.

“Fuuuuck!” You heard the wet sounds from her pussy over her groans and whines of your name, and that swelling feeling in your gut exploded.

All you could get out was a garbled cumming! as your thighs shook in your pleasure, your fingers quickly rubbing your clit as your hips bucked towards the friction. It felt so much better because you knew she was listening.

“Don’t fucking stop, you’re gonna cum again.” She scolded when your fingers slowed and your breathing slowed.

“E-Ellieee—!”

“You wanted to cum so bad, right? Then fucking cum, fuck that pussy,” she must’ve been close: her breathing was heavier and shaky, the wet sounds from her side increasing.

You put your phone on speaker and set it on your pillow, propping yourself up on your elbow so you could fuck yourself easier. You’ve never successfully made yourself cum like this, but you slid your middle finger in experimentally anyway. You released a light gasp at the stretch. You were so soft and slippery on the inside, your clit twitching as you wiggled around in search for that spot that Ellie found so easily.

“D-Do me a favor?” she gasped out to you.

“U-Uh huh?”

She let out a breathy laugh, “Put your pussy on the phone so I can nut?”

You laughed with her, shaking your head as you grabbed it with your free hand. You placed it between your legs, thrusting your finger in and out, “Can you hear it?”

“Yeah, babe, fuck.”

You let out a moan with her, slowly fucking yourself and bringing your other hand over to rub your clit, hips jolting at the sensitivity. You both were moaning each other's name as you chased your pleasure in unison. You let out a loud moan when you prodded that squishy spot that made you black out the last time you saw Ellie. You hit it as hard as you could, pussy squelching around your fingers and belly swirling.

“Gonna make me cum, shit, sounds so fucking hot,” she whined out in between heavy pants.

“Cum with me, El? Please?” You rubbed your clit faster.

“Gonnagonna, fuck, m’so close—!”

You let out a shout of her name as it hit you, your fingers trapped between the tight grip of your walls. You rubbed your clit as you grinded into your pussy, your head falling back as your hips rocked back and forth to ride it out. You tried to quiet your wails as Ellie came with you, letting out obscenities while she talked you through it. You could hear how fast her fingers were moving and it made another wave wash over you, your cunt giving one last bone-crushing squeeze as its twitching calmed.

You pulled your drenched fingers out and slowly rubbed your clit as you came down, listening to Ellie’s quieting gasps of pleasure. You reached to grab a couple tissues from your work desk, wiping your fingers and pussy before grabbing your phone to set on your pillow. You heard her shuffle before she spoke.

“You okay, babe?”

“Yeah… wish you were here,” you answered with a pout.

“I know, a couple more weeks’n I’m all yours.”

“S’all I’m thinking about,” you said gently. “Go get some rest.”

“Don’t want you to gooooo,” you heard her pouting. It made your heart skip. “Stay on the phone with me?

“Don’t you have to get up early tomorrow?”

“…Yeah…”

“Right. You had a long day, go to bed.” Even though the sound of her breathing would lull you to sleep faster, you could only imagine how drained she must’ve been.

“Fine,” you heard her sigh in resignation.

“Sleep well,” you cheesed widely.

“I’ll try, promise. Mmmmwaaah!” she sent a goofy kiss through the speaker. You sent one back.

“Night, El.”

“Night, baby.”

You hung up your line, throwing your phone on your pillow as you sat up to go to the bathroom.

You missed her scent so much.

Your sister was very in love. And lonely.

It’s been almost three weeks since she’s seen Isaiah.

She was typically good at keeping her sneaky links on the low, only calling them to fulfill her needs in the middle of the night, buy her drinks, smoke her the fuck out whenever she wanted, but she never expected to miss one of them or wait for their calls. Fuck time zones!

When Isaiah and your sister first started hooking up, it started off normal. Quick, but nastily satisfying fucks in hotel rooms (that he paid for, city girl shit), smashing in his rental car before his studio session, in her car before she went to work; it was strictly sexual for months, and she was fine with him constantly flying back and forth!

Until he returned from California with a new strain that he said reminded him of her. She damn near bought a ring to propose to him herself. He smoked her out, she had one of the best highs of her life, and he gave her the craziest head on her couch, how could she not want him?!

And now he’s gone, making beats in California again as she sat and thought about his voice. His scent.

Why did California always keep the most important people away from her?!

Thinking about that city always gives her a headache. She ignited the packed bowl of her pipe, staring holes into the black screen of her phone as she waited for his call.

You were editing another compilation of you playing all four seasons of Vivaldi as Arya snored on your shoulder. Your subs were going to eat this one up!

The train Wi-Fi was kicking your ass and was this close to fucking up your render, but you were managing.

You stretched your wrists, and you leaned back from your small tray table, resting against your head against the rest and grabbing your phone.

You got a text from Ellie!

hiiiii baby can’t wait 2 c u

got smth cute planned :)

You didn’t notice the smile that spread on your face as you typed.

so excited :( wanna smell u so bad

You were about to set your phone down, but a text bubble popped up.

yeah? wna smell u too

gonna shove my nose in that pussy and inhale 😛

IMMA EAT IT RAAAHH

Your entire body flushed hot as you shook your head.

AYOOOOO??

UR FUCKDIGNNSTUPIDD GET OFF MY PHONE

LFMAKOAAOOAAO

kissie b4 i go? :(

mwahmwahmwah

mmmmmwwah

You set your phone down as you cheesed dumbly.

You wished this train would hurry the fuck up!

Your mom had come to pick you and Arya up from the station with slices of her freshly baked pineapple upside-down cake, kisses, and strong hugs. You never got used to being away from her months at a time; You'd missed her warm embrace so much.

You had a couple of days to yourself before you and Ellie's first date and… just thinking about it made your heart beat faster.

She’d texted you when you got home, telling you to dress up in something fancy. Would she buy you a fancy dinner? Take you to an art gallery? A night on the town in the city? The possibilities were endless with her!

Arya had been telling you that you needed to buy some… things for when the two of you get “freak nasty”, so she offered to drive you to the mall (no more fruit panties, you're an adult now!, she’d scolded you). While you were excited for what happened after your date, you didn’t want it to be narrowed down to that; You loved spending time with Ellie. You just got her back in your life, and you wanted to appreciate every moment that you could get with her when she wasn't working. You felt so happy when she was around.

… But of course, Arya wasn’t hearing that.

“Girl, you can save all that sappy shit for the wedding, do you want crotchless panties under your—“ She paused her waving of the… very exposed pair of pink underwear as she remembered something. “Oh fuck, you don’t have a dress!”

“…I was thinking about just wearing my prom dr— “

“Don’t even finish that fuckin’ sentence, are you serious?! Your prom dress? On your first date? You needa be slapped for that!” She said, irritated as she glared at you. You glared back at her attitude, now just as annoyed.

“What do you expect me to do?! I’m not… I’m not like you guys, okay? This typa shit is easy for y’all. You know how hard it is for me to… do things like this. Why do you think I’ve been single this whole time?!” You said with a hurt frown.

You knew she never meant any harm whenever she scolded you about your romantic situations, —or lack thereof—but that didn’t mean it hurt your feelings any less. You’re just starting to come into yourself and your appearance, and you need her, and everyone else, to be patient with you.

Arya must’ve sensed the pain and discomfort in your voice because her glare slowly fell, a gentle replacement immediately overtaking her expression. She set the panties back down onto the display table and grabbed your shoulders.

“M’sorry babe, okay?” She said softly, and you nodded as you looked off into the distance in rigid forgiveness; You knew she didn’t like that. “Look at me.”

Your eyes slowly met hers before she quietly spoke. “I’m sorry, I want the best for you, that’s all.”

She continued as your eyes watered. Just a little glisten! “You’re such a beautiful person—inside’n out and I want you to feel that way, even more so now because of that dick-slangin’ girlfriend of yours!”

“You’re annoying,” you joked as you laughed quietly, making her smile.

“It’s true! You’re my baby’n I love you.”

“Love you,” you mumbled into her shoulder as she pulled you into a tight hug, pressing a light kiss to the side of your head before pulling back.

She spun around and pointed towards the 30% off on all thongs! sign at the front of the store.

“Can you buy one, at least?” she said in half-joking exasperation, pout on her face.

“…Sure,” You relented with a sigh. “I might not wear it for the date, though!”

“That’s fine, mama! Just wanna make sure you got one for safe keeping!” She said slyly as she stuck her tongue out.

You shook your head as you made your way over to the rack, eyeing the pine green thong on the mannequin.

Two days passed and you were getting ready for your first date! You couldn’t believe it!

After Arya drove the two of you to the airport to pick up Kris and Starr, they’d spent the night at your place so they could see you off before Ellie came to pick you up.

Starr helped you wax your eyebrows and legs: she offered to wax your cooch, but you were scared and a little embarrassed at the thought of your friends seeing you so… exposed. You knew your friends didn’t care about seeing you naked, but you were still a bit sheltered with them. I’ll stick to my razor! you'd said.

Kris was pressing your hair while Arya helped you glue your lashes on as you frantically checked the time with a bouncy knee. 6:33… 6:34… 6:36!

Even though Ellie said that your reservation was at seven-thirty, you still needed to get dressed, had to count for the drive, potential stops for gas… and what if there was an accident on the road and it made you both late… oh, god what if you both caused the accident—!

“Bro, can you calm the hell down— “

“Y’know, I’m getting really sick of y’all asking the girl with anxiety to calm down—!”

“Stop moving and hold your ear down!”

You thanked god your mom was out on a wine night; She didn’t need her night ruined with you and your friends bickering.

You grabbed your ear in a tight downward pinch with a harsh sigh, moving it so Kris could straighten your baby hairs. Even with all this frantic movement from everyone in the room, they made it clear that they didn’t want you to see your final look until the very end, blocking all mirrors available with their bodies.

After fifteen minutes of… pure chaos, your hair laid flat, and your face was beat. You pressed kisses all over your friends’ faces with breathy iloveyouthankyou’s before grabbing your dress and undergarments to sprint to your bathroom, making sure not to look at yourself even though you desperately wanted to.

You shut the door with a deep and heavy exhale. You looked at your dress with pounding in your ears: it was a floor length, black velvet maxi dress with lace detailed sleeves. It accentuated your bust so a little cleavage was showing (I, personally, would have my nipples out, but this is cute, too! you recalled Arya saying in the dressing room); It was so… classy. You felt like an adult when you tried it on. You hope Ellie likes it.

You shook off your insecurities before they could terrorize you and removed your tee, underwear, and sweatpants. You put your pine green, lacy strapless bra on with the thong to match, adjusting it so… your pussy could fucking breathe how do people wear this shit everywhere they go!

You grabbed your dress and stepped into it, carefully pulling it up and over your shoulders. You straightened it out with your hand, making sure no wrinkles were in it before you took a breath, opened the door, and walked out to your bedroom.

Starr was the first one you made eye-contact with and she damn near fell out of your desk chair and onto the floor. Your eyes widened as the other two turned with excited gasps and shrieks.

“OH MY FUCKIN’ GOD WHAT THEFUCK—!”

“You’re so fucking fine, holy shit—!”

“If it don’t work out with ol’ girl, you know where to find me—!”

You shook your head at them before dropping your gaze to your floor so that they couldn’t see your small smile, your face flushed, “Okay, okay, can I look now?”

“Yeah baby, turn around!” Kris said excitedly as she grabbed your shoulders with an encouraging squeeze.

You spun around and was immediately met with someone who… did not look like you. At all. Even your brain was too stunned to speak. What the fuck?

The girls' excited expressions slowly dropped when they witnessed your shocked reaction, but you weren’t upset at all. Just… surprised. In a good way.

“What’s the matter, honey?” Kris asked you gently from behind with concerned eyes, meeting yours in the mirror.

“…I’m just really— “

THROW IT IN ROTATION! (THR—)

You jumped towards your phone on your dresser, nearly knocking your lamp off it. You answered immediately when you saw who it was.

“Hello?”

“Hiiiii, m’downstairs!” Ellie said giddily, and your spirit brightened. You smiled widely, and the girls followed.

“I’m coming down right now, just needa put my shoes on!”

“Ok, is it fine if I come in for a sec or?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. The girls wanna meet you!” And they nodded eagerly in agreement.

“… Fuck, now I’m scared.”

“Don’t be! They’re so sweet, c’mon.”

“K, gimme a sec, mmmmmwah!” she said goofily, you sending one back just as dopily before you ended the call.

“Y’all gay as shit,” Starr said with a headshake, making the other girls snicker and jump in excitement.

You, heels in hand, and your friends nearly jumped down the staircase to rip the front door off the hinges.

The minute your eyes connected with Ellie’s, you had to stop yourself from dropping to your knees and doing something crazy. Fuck.

She was dressed in an all-black suit with a… fucking turtleneck underneath her jacket. Her sleeves were rolled up so her forearm tattoo was exposed. She had…Cuban links around her neck and wrists. Her hair was cut into a mullet—when the fuck did that happen, holy shit?!— and the two slits in her brow were more prominent. You noticed one of her hands was behind her back, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care about what she was hiding. You were, by all means, ready to fuck right now. You nearly said fuck the date.

And by the darkening of her eyes as she took you in from head to toe, you could tell she was ready, too.

“…Hey,” she said to all of you, but she kept eye contact with you. You stared back.

“Hi! Nice to finally meet you, I’m Arya,” your best friend interrupted as she stuck her hand out towards your date. Her eyes left yours to politely greet your friends with cute smiles and handshakes.

And then she turned to you, bringing her hidden arm around to hand you a burgundy sunflower wrapped in gold and pink ribbons and plastic. Evening sun!

She stepped inside and into your space—she always smelled so fucking good! — as you took it from her hand with a gentle thank you. Her cheeks were so red as she whispered back of course before planting a soft kiss to your lips. You heard your friends squeal quietly. Neither of you cared, sucked into your own little universe.

“Ready?” she whispered. You nodded excitedly with a toothy grin, stepping into your heels. She smiled back before taking your hand in hers.

“Oh fuck, wait a second!” Kris said loudly before running upstairs. You looked at your two friends, confused. Starr smirked as Arya shrugged.

Kris came running back down the stairs with a small backpack in her hand, giving it to you.

“Packed you some… things. Might not see you for a few days,” she said slyly as she winked, causing Starr to snicker. What the hell was in this bag?

“Be careful with our little baby, now! She’s fragile!” Starr called out.

“Will do, don’t worry,” Ellie replied with a light laugh before turning to you to whisper, “C’mon, baby.”

“Don’t forget to lock the door before you guys head out, keys under the mat,” you turned to say to your friends as you slowly walked out. “I love y’all!”

Shouts of love you! and be safe! rung through your ears before you gently shut the door. Your back was immediately pressed up against it before you could think, Ellie craning her neck to connect your lips in a hot kiss. Your knees went weak.

She pulled away before you could protest, looking you up and down, “Had to do that, fuck, you look gorgeous.” Your cheeks were so hot as you mumbled a quiet you, too!

“Think I’m gorgeous?” She hummed out with a small smile. You saw her cheeks shine a darker shade of pink.

You nodded with an mhm!, wrapping your arms around her neck to pull her in for another kiss. She grabbed your forearms and moved back with a shake of her head.

“Okay. No more bullshit, we’re classy tonight!” She said with a clap of her hands.

“Just one more,” you shook your head with a pout as you attempted to move her closer.

You shut your eyes when you saw her face move closer to yours before you heard her whisper a no against your lips.

“C’mon, we’re gonna be late,” She said with a foxy grin. She took your hand in hers to lead you to her… sleek ass car, fucking shit!

The heartbeat in your ears nearly deafened you.

The restaurant was… impeccable. You thought Cheesecake Factory was fancy; They were nothing compared to this spot. It was dimly lit, crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, tables draped in a black cloth, marble plates, candles, bottles of champagne… This is wealth!

Ellie hadn’t let your hand go the entire car ride, all the way up until you reached the front desk to confirm your reservation. You both were led to an exclusive spot on the second-floor outdoor balcony so that the two of you were alone. You teared up at the sight in front of you.

Your small section was filled with lit lanterns, the decorative trees around your table wrapped in fairy lights, and your table was surrounded with rose petals. There was even a small flowerpot with an evening sun sticking out of it. The gesture was so simple, but your eyes watered with gratitude. You couldn’t believe she organized this for you.

“Like it?” She sounded so nervous next to you. You turned to face her and nodded with a sniffle.

“Such a crybaby, jesus,” she mumbled with a shaky laugh, reaching towards a napkin on the table to hand to you. You dabbed your eyes, minding your liner.

“This is so sweet, Ellie, oh my god,” you watched her expression fill with affection and doting before she pulled you in to kiss your forehead as she led you over to the table.

She grabbed the back of your chair to pull it out for you with an over-exaggerated call of m’lady!, ushering you to sit down. You laughed wetly before you sat with a thank you!

“I wasn’t joking when I said you can get whatever you want,” She stated as she circled the small table to get to her seat. “I’ll buy this place out if you ask, don’t give a fuck.”

Fuckfuckfuck—!

“Ellie, this is prettiest place I’ve ever fucking been in, oh my god!” You said as you glanced around the room.

“Ehhh, it’s alright,” she said with a cocky smirk, shrugging as she shook her jacket off her shoulders. You tried not to look at her toned arms too closely as you rolled your eyes. “Want some wine?”

“Is… is that allowed?”

“… It is tonight, shit— “

A man dressed in a black shirt, slacks, and apron cut her off with an introduction as your server, bowing his head in greeting. You noticed how he kept returning his gaze to you as he described the specials, but you paid it no extra mind.

After Ellie asked for the most expensive wine, the server departed with a stiff nod in her direction. You noticed her intense gaze as she watched him leave.

“You okay?” you asked gently. She silently shook her head yes before reaching out to you to grab your hand, playing with your fingers.

Hm. That was weird.

Dinner was fucking incredible. Shrimps should’ve never been called the “roaches of the sea”, they tasted too good!

You were two glasses of wine in, —nursing your third—and you were starting to feel warm and fuzzy, a smile permanently painted on your face as Ellie went on about astrology; You didn’t know what the fuck a mercury retrograde was, but you supported anything that kept that impassioned look in her eyes! She looked so excited!

“—that fucker thought that because I’m a fucking Libra I wasn’t gonna say anything. Like, I literally have an Aquarius rising, you cunt! I’ll fuckin’ run you ov— “

“How’s everything?”

You looked to your side and made eye contact with your server, you sipped from your glass as you eagerly nodded, “Oh my god, it was fucking incredible. Who knew shrimps could be that goddamn huge! Are we allowed to say bad words in here?!”

He laughed while nodding, “Yes ma’am, you’re allowed to do whatever you want in here. Would you like any dessert with the rest of your wine?”

“Yes, please!” You got giddy at the mention of sweets, “I saw this chocolate molten lava cake lookin’ thing on the menu, but there was no ice cream on top. Can y’all… à la mode it?”

“Course we can, the Chocolate Fondant with ice cream!” He said as he pulled out his notepad from his apron pocket, scribbling before turning to Ellie. You noticed how tense she looked: she was sitting back in her chair with her legs crossed, her finger tapping on the arm rest, and her shoulders were stiff. You didn’t comment on it, but something was off. “And for you?”

She didn’t answer, and her lack of response concerned you. You reached over to gently place your hand on top of her… clenched fist on the table, “El? You don’t have to get a whole one. You wanna share with me?”

She hadn’t looked at you since he arrived, though: she continued to glare at the waiter, and when you turned to look at him, you saw him glare at her. What the hell?

“We’re gonna get that to go, actually.” She demanded, her gaze sharp like knives. You recognized that tone of hers instantly. She was this close to swinging. Oh no.

“I think that would be best. Cash or card?” He snarked. You whipped your head to glare at his tone.

You felt the table shake as Ellie moved to stand. You jumped up and stood in front of her—almost breaking your damn ankle in these heels— before she could lunge at the waiter, letting out soft warnings of nononono as you blocked her off. This was an elitist establishment; you’re not trying to get arrested! The waiter scoffed and stomped off.

You watched Ellie seethe in her chair as she pulled her wallet out of her slack pocket, throwing a stack of hundreds on the table before grabbing her jacket. She wrapped her hand around yours before pulling you towards the restaurant's staircase.

She harshly pushed the doors of the restaurant open to lead you to the parking garage. You weren’t having it, though.

“Ellie! Ellie, wait! What the hell just happened?” You asked, grabbing her wrist with your free hand to stop her pacing.

“Doesn’t matter— “

“Yes, it does!” You said louder as you yanked your hand from hers. You grabbed her flushed face in your hands, but she wasn’t looking at you. She just continued to whisper obscenities under her breath.

“Baby, look at me please, talk to me,” you said gently, rubbing her cheeks with your thumbs in an attempt to soothe her.

She finally looked down at you, before looking around again, “Let’s get in the car first, c’mon.”

You released her face from your grasp with a nod, letting her guide you.

She let out a deep sigh when she shut her door. You leaned over to rub her knee comfortingly.

She looked down at your hand as her expression softened, “M’sorry, I— “

You shook your head, “It’s okay, just, what was that? I’m so confused right now—”

“Motherfucker wouldn’t stop glaring at me, pissed me the fuck off,” She said between grit teeth. “Kept lookin’ at you, the fuck was he smiling so hard for anyway—“

“A-at me?”

“Yes, at you,” She said like it was obvious. Your brows furrowed in confusion. “The bastard almost broke his neck trying to show you the menu, ohhh of course I'll put ice cream on the chocolate fountain, sexy, I'll make sure the chocolate’s extra hot for you, like what the fuck— “

You couldn’t hold in your laughter at her exaggerated impressions, and you felt her relax as she scoffed a laugh out. You watched as she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her mint vape, pulling from it. She turned her head to blow the smoke away from your face. You leaned over the center console, grabbing the side of her face to turn towards you. You planted soft kisses to her cheek in between your chuckles as she shook her head, licking her chapped lips.

“Dinner was really good,” you said in between kisses.

She hummed before she sighed, “Sorry I ruined it, you didn’t even get your chocolate fountain.”

You giggled, “Fondant, baby.”

She grumbled out a whatever, making you laugh harder, “I had so much fun, El, love spending time with you.”

She turned her face towards yours to whisper, “Me too babe. Missed you so much.”

“You smell so fucking good,” you whispered against her mouth before you could think.

“Yeah?” You felt her smirk.

You hummed in agreement before pressing your mouth to hers. She instantly reciprocated, turning her body so she could place a hand on the back of your neck to pull you closer. The kiss deepened, her tongue swiping against your bottom lip before she sucked on it. You let out a whine when her tongue licked into your mouth. Tongueringtongueringtongueri—

But then she pulled away. You followed her mouth with yours, making her smile.

“Let’s go home.”

You nodded so hard, you almost snapped your neck.

The minute you stepped foot into Ellie’s place, her mouth was on yours.

Her strong hands were gripping your hips, your arms around her neck as you moaned in her mouth.

Jinglejinglejinglejingle—

You pulled away from her and turned the second you heard Duchess coming, her small, fluffy body descending the stairs. You pushed Ellie’s grabby, traveling hands away.

“Baby! Oh my god! I missed you so much!” You squealed in excitement as you rushed over to her as quickly as your heeled feet would allow. She started purring and rubbing against your leg. You bent over to pet her little head as she nuzzled into your hand.

“You really chose her over me, wow, okay,” Ellie called out from behind you as you heard the fridge open along with some clinking glass.

Of course, Duchess’s demons took over as she whipped her head off into the distance, seemingly shocked by something, before sprinting back upstairs. There had to be a ghost or something in this bitch!

You shook your head before standing straight to turn towards the kitchen. You noticed Ellie shamelessly staring at your ass before she slowly dragged her eyes up connected with yours. And she just took a shot of pure vodka. No chaser. Fuck.

“You always talk about me staring, look at you!”

“You’re lucky that’s all I did,” She said as she poured another shot for herself. “Was thiiis close to doing something outta pocket.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” you challenged. Yup, that wine was still kicking.

“Shoving my tongue in your ass,” she said casually with a shrug before leaning over the counter, taking sips from her shot glass.

That familiar swirl in your gut quickly turned into a tornado. Your pussy clenched tight with want. Oh. Oh, wow.

“Oh.”

“Uh huh.”

Do something! Say something sexy, you’re boring her! your brain shouted.

“T-that guy was trash, huh?” you said with a sheepish laugh.

“…Yup,” she said deeply as she watched you. Every breath you took, every nervous twitch of your body with that nasty little glint in her eyes. The one you recognized from New Year’s. You stepped out of your heels and took a stumbly step towards the counter.

Confidence! Confidence, dammit!

“Can I have some?” You said as you pointed towards the bottle of Absolut.

She snorted a laugh before shrugging, “I dunno. Can you?”

“Shut up, gimme some,” you said as you folded your arms over your chest. Her eyes dropped to your tits as she licked her lips; She wasn’t moving to get your drink, she just stared at your pushed up breasts. Your manicured nails dug into your lacy sleeve, but you stood your ground. “Right now.”

She smirked at your tone before returning her gaze to yours, shaking her head no. She tilted her head condescendingly, lifting her brow at you. She was… fucking testing you! The goddamn nerve!

“Ellie.”

“Hm?”

“Pour me a shot!”

“Or what?” Her tone was so low, so relaxed. You could feel yourself getting so wet.

“Or m’gonna…” Come up with something, what the fuck! “M’gonna…uh… fight you!”

“…You’re gonna fight me?” She squinted her eyes at you, setting the small glass down on the counter before folding her hands.

“…Yeah! Y’know what?! I’m actually mad, you ruined our first date because you thought some guy was staring at me!” There was a shakiness in your voice, but you waved your arms in anger as you started pacing, your bare feet stomping on the dark tile. Along with soft jingles. Duchess was back! “I’ve never been stared at by a stranger in my life!”

Ellie wasn’t retaliating, but you noticed her jaw clenching. It made you clench, but you pressed anyway.

“And you didn’t even get me my dessert! Maybe I wanted him to stare at me! Maybe I wanted the attention, for once! For fucking on—!”

You hadn’t noticed Ellie circle the counter during your toothless rampage, but you felt a sharp tug of hair at the back of your head. Your neck forcibly craned up at her as you let out a wet gasp and pained whined, your fist clenching in your shock and… arousal. Your eyes met her dark, fiery ones, her lips slightly parted as her breath hit your face. You couldn’t stop fucking squirming, your thighs rubbing together to ease the sudden tightness of your core.

“Don’t start acting like a fuckin’ brat,” She said lowly between grit teeth. “You’re cute, keep it that way.”

Despite your eagerness for… her everything, you spat back, “S-Screw you, Ellie! You’re mean!”

“Know I am. Seems like you don’t, though.”

Your body involuntarily shuddered against her, and you mentally cursed yourself for being your biggest enemy! Your tough act faltered the second you put it on, and she smirked. “So fuckin’ easy, you wanna screw me, baby?”

You were easy. You were, you were, all for her! Fuck, you’d do anything she asked of you. You hadn’t even realized that your hands were slowly lifting your dress up on their own accord, bunching the fabric around your hips. She looked down and scoffed out a laugh, her grip in your hair tightening. You were moaning aloud already, what the fuck!

“Givin’ it up like that? Like a filthy slut?”

You nodded, your head filled with nothing but desire. Need. Instinct. You needed her to fuck you right now!

“Get up those fucking stairs, gonna put the baby in the guest room.” You could hear her jingling on the couch.

Her grip on you loosened as she backed away to walk towards Duchess with a soft hi, baby! missed you!

That was a fast switch up!

You turned towards the counter and downed the rest of Ellie’s discarded shot before you bolted up the steps. You never ran so fast in your life.

After Ellie took care of Duchess, you heard her tread up the stairs. You were sitting on the edge of her made bed with your hands folded in your lap and slick pooling your thong. She met your eyes from where she stood by the top of the steps.

“Look at you, already so well behaved,” she cooed at you. She sounded so demeaning, and you loved it. You were so embarrassed that you did.

You didn’t reply but watched her slowly walk towards you. Your breathing picked up and your heart pounded in your ears and head and clit—

“You used to be so fuckin’ sweet,” she said down at you, her lustful eyes twinkling under the green and blue hues in her room. She shook her head at you. “You get some alcohol in you’n start acting out? That’s what you wanna do?”

You slowly shook your head no, jutting your bottom lip out.

“Talk.”

“No, Ellie,” you could barely whisper.

“Take this off,” she ordered abruptly, her pointer finger pulling at the bust of your dress.

You stood at her command, pulling your arms out of your sleeves to pull the dress down your body. Was it always this tight?!

After wrestling with your garb, it pooled at your feet. You stepped out of it clumsily as Ellie took in your appearance. You watched her rake her eyes over your body, chuckling softly at your undergarments.

“These are cute,” she said as she snapped the band of your thong against your skin. It made you flinch… and wetter! “Give’em to me.”

Your breath hitched, curling in on yourself slightly.

She gently cut through your thoughts before you could gather them, “Don’t think about it, just do what I ask.”

You hesitantly hooked your thumbs into your underwear and pulled them down on autopilot, cringing slightly at the large wet spot on the little triangle. You pressed your thighs together to help alleviate some tension. It didn’t help.

“Get up there,” she nodded her head towards her bed frame. You sat on the bed to scoot up the mattress, but she stopped you, tightly gripping your ankle.

“Nuh uh, hands’n knees’ c’mon,” she scolded, “Wanna see that wet fuckin’ pussy.”

You clumsily got up onto your knees, hands sinking into her pine-scented blankets. Your erratic breaths picked up as you nervously looked back at her over your shoulder. Her expression softened slightly, whispering okay, baby? and you nodded enthusiastically. You never would’ve thought that you would enjoy Ellie being mean to you, but it was making you drip. She smirked and her gaze dropped to stare at your wet cunt, and it squeezed in excitement.

Be sexy! you thought. Make her want you!

You deepened the arch in your back slightly before you slowly crawled up her bed like a cat until you were faced with her black, detailed bed frame. You boldly shoved your face into her pillows, —you sniffed them very deeply— making sure to keep your ass up as far as you could.

“It’s like that?” You heard her scoff out. Your pussy twitched at her voice; You hoped she noticed.

You took a deep breath, “Is it?”

“Fucking smartass. Show me your pussy.”

Your body burned at her vulgarity; she had no shame! You whimpered before you reached your arms behind you to spread your asscheeks, both holes pulsing in excitement.

You felt her move onto the bed before you heard the ripping of fabric. She grabbed both your wrists in one hand, knotting your soaking wet panties around them before dropping your bound hands onto your back.

“ELL— “

You were going to scold her for ripping your new pair, but you were cut off by a stinging slap on your ass. You let out a pained groan in the pillow as your nails dug into your palms. Oh, you liked that. A lot. You wanted more. Fuck, you want her to hurt you.

“Gotta beat it into you, huh? That’s the type of shit you like?” Ellie said in a nasty timbre. “The only way t’get you to behave?”

You didn’t even get to lift your head to say yes! before another harsh slap landed on your other cheek and you let out a muffled squeal again. You knew your pussy was dripping onto her duvet in a puddle!

“You’re lucky you’re only getting my fucking hand. Fuckin’ slut.”

Why was the disgusting part of you wishing that she were using something more? Something that she could etch into your skin forever?

“E-Ell— “

“Be quiet.”

You shut up. You shut up so quickly.

“Fuuck, look at this fucking ass.” You felt her calloused hands massage both cheeks. She spread them, made them jiggle. Hit you again.

“Gonna let me play with it, babygirl? Hm? Gonna let me touch you how I want to?” She cooed out at you. You knew she knew your answer, but you nodded your sweaty head into her pillow anyway.

You felt her place a light kiss on the back of your thigh, right under your asscheek, before she got up. You heard a drawer slide open. Her… special drawer. Fuck, she was going to destroy you.

You craned your neck as best as you could

to watch as she pulled out some items. She set them on the dresser before she undid her chains, bracelets, and earrings. She took her turtleneck and slacks off, leaving her with mussed hair and a black sports bra with matching boyshorts. Her back, her fucking back, holy fuck—

Your thoughts were halted by a thud near the edge of the bed: you couldn’t see anything that she chose, but you saw that familiar shade of purple in the middle of the small pile.

“You comfortable in that position?” She questioned you suddenly, her softness returning.

“Umm… I like it, but my arms hurt a little, not gonna lie.”

She tsked at you, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“M’sorry! I was really into the “don’t talk” thing— “

“If the don't talk thing makes you not tell me when you're uncomfortable, I’m not doing it. You gotta tell me when you feel off, I don’t care why or when it is,” She crawled up to you and undid the knot from your wrists before grabbing your hip to help move you onto your back. “Here, stretch out.”

You laid your head on her pillow as you extended your arms and legs, sighing in relief before you rested, limbs spread out on the mattress, “M’okay now.”

She hummed in acknowledgement, but she wasn’t looking at your face. She was staring at your wet cunt, and it made you squeeze hard. She licked her lips as more slick pooled at your hole before meeting your eyes. “I like you better like this actually.”

You nodded as you offered her your wrists, signaling her to tie them again with a wide grin.

She laughed at you before crawling up to pull at your bra wire, “Wait, take this off first.”

“Want you to do it,” you sighed out dreamily.

She hummed at you, moving up to straddle your waist, “I meant it when I said this was cute, by the way.”

“Exactly, was cute! You saw my panties for three seconds and ripped them to shreds,” you cackled out.

“I was excited, felt a little frisky!” She laughed with you.

You both slowed your giggles when she started rubbing them through the fabric, both hands massaging you through the cups.

Your eyes fluttered when your nipples brushed up against the lace, your back arching into her touch. She slowly bent down to take one of them into her mouth, the bulb in her mouth circling the peak. You gasped sharply, arching deeper as your hand flew to the back of her head. You gently scratched her scalp with your nails, and she sucked on it.

You jerked and your grip on her hair tightened, and she moaned around you. You moaned at the vibrations on your sensitive skin.

You hadn’t noticed her hands snuck under you to undo the clasp of your bra as she pulled away from you, discarding the flimsy cloth and tossing it somewhere.

“So much for a surprise,” you playfully rolled your eyes at her. Calloused fingers dug into your cheeks. Your smile dropped and your eyes fluttered as hers burned into yours.

“You’re not off the fuckin’ hook. Watch your mouth, you understand?” She said lowly, breath hitting your face. You nodded quickly.

“I understand,” you whimpered out.

“Atta girl, you're learning,” she patronized with a satisfied grin, patting your cheek a couple times. You blushed harder. “Gimme those hands.”

She sat up to reach for your destroyed panties, your wrists connected at the veins as she bound them together, much tighter than the first time.

You rested your arms on the pillow behind you. She adjusted them so that your head was propped up and your neck was supported. You poked your chest out more as your tits jiggled with your movements.

“I do anything you don’t like, you tell me.” She said in a hushed, but stern tone.

“I will, El, promise.”

“Okay,” she bent down to press a soft kiss to your mouth before moving off you and towards the pile of toys.

She grabbed one of… what is that?

It was a teal circle with a small hole at the top of it. Technology is so interesting—

“It’s clean, promise,” she must’ve noticed your furrowed brows and stare. You shook your head.

“S’not that, what… what is it?”

“A vibrator, babe,” she said simply.

“…Hm, never seen one like that before.”

“I hadn’t either. It was a gift,” she snorted before she clicked a button on the top of it. A low vibration filled the room, “It feels good, though.”

“What’s it feel like?”

“It’s supposed to feel like you’re getting head… sorta,” She said in thought, “It kinda does, like a little bit… wanna see if you like it?”

“Yeah, p-please?”

“That’s cute.”

She brought her free hand up to roll your nipples between her thumb and pointer finger, making you whine out and squirm and arch your back. Your eyes fluttered closed.

You felt the gentle vibrations on your inner thigh before they slowly trailed up with every twist and pinch Ellie gave your nipples. Your hips started bucking up before she brought her hand down to slap your pussy. You let out a loud moan as your eyes shot open to meet her dark ones.

“Stop moving.”

“C-can't help it,” you said with pout.

“Yeah, you can.”

You let out a huff, and she gave your cunt another wet slap, much harder. You squealed loudly as your legs squeezed shut.

“Don’t get a fuckin’ attitude.”

You whimpered a sloppy slew of apologies, but you knew she wasn’t hearing it as she pried your legs apart with one strong hand to slap it one more time before slowly rubbing your clit. Your hips jerked, but you forced them not to lift.

“You get so fuckin’ wet,” she whispered in awe, the sticky noises of your pussy filling the room as she played with it. “Hear that? Shit.”

“Missed you s-so much— “

“Know you did.”

You moaned her name, and she mockingly moaned yours back. It made you leak more.

You felt her spread your lips open so she could watch your clit throb and jerk in need. You looked down and saw her eyes glued to your cunt, her freckled cheeks tinted red and her wet, pink lips parted. She looked up at you, smirking when she met your intrigued, needy eyes as she placed the vacant part of the vibrator over your clit.

“Like watching?”

“Think so,” you shyly mumbled out.

And then you felt the vibrations on your soaked bud. You gasped as your eyes closed.

You felt her pull the toy away before she slapped your clit. You cried out as your eyes shot open to meet hers again.

“Watch me. Don’t close your eyes.”

You jerkily nodded; You watched her so closely. She kissed your clit before spreading them with her fingers to bring the open part of the toy to your clit, trapping it inside once more.

Your bud was surrounded by the pulsing sensations of the soft silicone and your eyes almost rolled back into your head, but you craved Ellie’s praise, her reassurance. You wanted to be good for her.

All you could do was moan and shudder and watch her.

“Feels good?”

“Feels s’good, baby—”

“Yeah? Want some more?” she said fondly with a filthy glare.

You mumbled out a quiet yeah, wa’more! in between your pleas.

She pressed another button on the toy, and the vibrations got stronger. Your cries got louder.

“Sloppy fucking pussy.”

The tight pull in your gut was building, but you needed more. You wanted to pull on your nipples so bad but you fucking couldn’t! Why did you want your hands tied so badly?

“El,” you barely got out between your heavy pants, “can you—mmh!”

“What?”

“T-ouch my tits? Please, m’right there!”

She snickered at you before reaching up to slap one of them, leaving remnants of your slick on the soft skin. That wasn’t what you were expecting, but you want more of that!

“Hit me more?” you keened, your eyes glossy.

“You asking?” she snickered, and you nodded so fast.

She shook her head at you, “You’re gross.”

For her! You’re so nasty for her her her—

You received another slap. And another. Then she reached up to dig her nails into your brown bud. You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back, it hurt so good.

“Shit, m’gonna cum!”

“Uh huh.”

All you could do was moan out warnings of s’coming! and I feel it! and yes! It built and built until you could taste it and—

… Everything you felt stopped. And Ellie was laughing. You were going to cry.

No… nonono—

“Told you to keep your eyes open.”

“E-Ellie, please no, I can’t— “

“Y’know, I was hoping you could follow simple instructions,” she cut you off as she moved towards the pile again, grabbing her… fat fucking dick, yes finally yesyesyes—

And lube… and an emerald green buttplug with a matching… remote? Oh, fuck—

“You don’t know how to fucking listen, do you?” She tossed the items next to you before grabbing your shaky thighs to pull you closer to her, your head dropping onto the soft mattress. You laid flat on your back as she loomed over you, your legs on either side of her.

She watched your twitchy hole produce more slick, “Don’t even need to get you ready, could just slip right in and fuck you how I want.”

“Wan’you to! Wann’it so bad— “

“Yeah? Want me t’use you?”

“Fuck yes! Yeah!”

“Keep these fuckin’ legs open, then,” she grabbed her dick and stood to step into it, adjusting the straps securing them around her hips. She climbed back between your legs as she intensely stared at your tits. She looked so deep in thought, brows furrowed with her bottom lip between her teeth; What the hell was her evil brain conjuring up?!

She gave your breast one last burning slap that made you cry out before grabbing the lube off the bed. You watched as she ripped the cap off, pouring some into the palm of her hand to bring down to her dick to massage it into the ridges. Your walls were squeezing so tight, your pussy begging for whatever she was about to do.

You almost flatlined on her bed when she straddled you, climbing up your body until her dick rested between your tits, the lube she smeared all over it transferring to your skin. Her thick, wet tip was almost touching your chin, and all you could do was gape at it before slowly blinking up at her, meeting her burning gaze. She bit her lip as she slowly tipped the bottle of lube, letting the thick consistency land your chest before she rubbed it into your skin with her cock. You felt so fucking dirty!

“Stick that tongue out,” she ordered deeply as she closed and tossed the lube bottle.

Your lips parted on command, your tongue slowly sliding between the two of them. She grabbed your face in a tight grip before letting a line of spit slip out of her mouth and onto your tongue. You felt it slide down your tongue before you happily swallowed

it. You lolled your tongue out, silently asking for more with pleading eyes.

She sneered at you before she did it again, getting it all over your chin and cheeks. You couldn’t stop the whimper that left your mouth. She let a blob out onto your tits, mixing with the lube.

But then you felt a fiery hand come down on your cheek, your head flying to the side as you let out a choked gasp. Your thighs clamped together on instinct as your walls quivered at the sting. You felt her place a hand on the side of your head, keeping it still as her nails dug into your scalp.

“G’na fuck these tits s’good,” you heard her groan out. Your cunt throbbed in desperation.

“Wan’ you to!”

“Beg me to,” she hissed at you.

“Please, baby, pleasefuck’em!—“

You felt her squeeze both your wet tits in one tight hand before she forced her dick between them, both of you letting out moans in between the squelchy noises from your bodies.

Her grip in your hair tightened as you heard her pleased sighs, her slurred curses, her whines of your name, why were you getting so tight, why did it feel like you were about to cum—

“Fuuuck, babygirl, feels s’fuckin’ good—!”

“E-El, please— “

“Yeah? What does my girl need? Wan’ some fuckin’ attention?” You hated how hard your core squeezed at her belittling tone. You nodded as fast as you could in her tight grasp.

“Not g’na til I cum, you’re gonna fuckin’ lay there’n let me do what I want, tha’s what you wanted right? Huh?”

More hot tears were falling to your hairline as you quietly sobbed and pleaded for her to touch your pussy, but she wasn’t hearing any of it. She released the grip she had on your head, but she just shoved her drenched, lubricated fingers into your mouth. Your eyes fluttered shut as you hummed around them, sucking them deeper.

“Gonna fuck that throat so hard one day, swear to god.”

You hummed and garbled pleas around them in excitement.

“Shit! Need that? Just wan’ something in that pretty mouth?”

You nodded, you kept nodding, you want anything she’ll give you.

“G’na fucking cum, all over that gorgeous face,” she gritted out as she snatched her fingers from your mouth. Her wet hand flew to your tits, pushing them closer together so that she could fuck her dick into the little hole she tightened.

“W-Wan’ your cum, daddy!” you encouraged her as you watched, you needed her to cum!

“Shit, baby, stick your tongue out,” she whined out as she grinded her dick between your tits. Your eyes opened and your tongue immediately started swiping across her tip whenever it came up to your mouth. Her hips jolted and stuttered on top of you as she watched you, and you watched her. You hurriedly sucked her rubber tip into your mouth and sucked sloppily like you were trying to milk her. You knew she couldn’t feel the suctions, but you saw her eyes roll back into her skull as she let out a loud moan. She was bucking her hips into her strap as her nails dug into your tits. You kept the tip in your mouth as she rode out her pleasure.

She looked so pretty and soft: fluttery lids, swollen lips, and her dotted cheeks flushed as quiet whines left her mouth. So pretty, she’s so fucking pretty—

Her tip suddenly slipped from your mouth as she scooted down your body.

“K-Kiss?” you asked softly, voice unsteady.

She didn’t say anything as she leaned down to connect your lips. It was light and careful, both of you breathing into each other's whines. She made sure to check on you, mumbling an okay? against your mouth. You whined out a yesyeah m’okay before you reconnected your lips.

You kissed for what felt like hours before she sat up to move off you.

“W-Wan’more,” you mumbled with pleading expression.

“Okay, babe.”

You watched as she scooted down, shuffling until she was between your legs. She held one of them up with a hand under your knee to press it to your chest, playing with your entrance with her free hand. You felt her slide a finger in and your mouth fell open, your walls clinging to her the deeper she prodded. You were stunned at how fast she found that spongy spot inside you, and you squeezed her tighter.

“Loosen up, can barely fucking move.”

You couldn’t do anything except wail out incoherencies about how fast you were going to cum, and you felt her slide another finger in.

“Nuh uh, hold it.”

“Can’t, Ellie, fuck— “

“Yeah you can, hold that shit.”

You tried you tried, but you couldn’t. All you could get out was a cry of stop, baby! stopstopstop before your peak washed over you.

But the pleasure left as fast as it came as she pulled out with a tsk, another slap landing on your pulsing clit. You sobbed her name, tears running down your temples.

“Couldn’t even hold it for a few seconds?” She scolded, and it made you and your pussy cry harder.

“Stop crying,” you felt her releasing the tight grip from under your knee to softly wipe your tears off your face. “Look at me.”

Your glossy eyes slowly peeled open, taking in the sight above you.

“Good?” she asked softly, and you nodded with a whimper of m’okay, El, I like it so much! please fuck me!

“Yeah? Babygirl wants some dick?”

“Yes! Pleasefuckmee—!”

You let out a groan when you felt her dick slap on your pulsing bud. You were spewing pleas and curses and cries of her name; you wanted her inside! Wanted to feel her so deep in your stomach!

You couldn’t help but lift your head to look down at her cock sliding between your folds, her thick tip nudging your clit with every thrust.

How were you about to cum from that alone? Your eyes were fluttering from the pleasure. You whimpered out a warning of your impending orgasm.

“You gonna cum from this? M’barely doing anything.”

You couldn’t speak, you just nodded. Your mind was hazy and racing with thoughts of her at the same time, your core clenching tight. Yeah, you were going to cum!

“Daddy—!”

“Fuuuck yeah, need me, baby?”

Your eyes rolled back so far back you swore you could see your brain shaking its head at you in disappointment, and you came so fucking hard. You felt her tip push past your spasming entrance as she quickly rubbed your clit with her thumb as it hit you. That stretch made you scream, and your head fell back.

“S’so big!” You couldn’t even register what you were saying, your burning orgasm taking over your mouth.

“Gonna be my good girl’n take it? Gonna make me proud?” Her voice sent another wave through your body as it shook in painful pleasure.

“Yeah, daddy, m’your good girl!”

“Then lemme in, love, c’mon,” she whispered out over your moans and groans and squeals. Your orgasm was still ripping through your body, your wetness dripping down your ass and onto the new puddle on the blanket. She was tearing you open with every shallow thrust, but you took every ridged, veiny inch like you were meant to.

“Good, baby? Talk t’me,” she said gently, halting her thrusts as she caressed your thigh.

“M’sti—m’stillcummimg—! “

She scoffed a wet laugh at you and went even deeper, “I feel it, squeezing the fuck outta me. Dirty fucking whore.”

You felt the balls of the strap resting against your ass as you slowly came down. She was all the way in, slowly pulling out only to push back in. Her tits were slightly jiggling in her bra every time she bottomed out. Your hands wriggled in the fabric; you wanted them in your mouth so bad.

“Wan’touch you, daddy, please?” you moaned out in a gasp as she fucked back into you, stretching you out.

“Touch me where?” She asked, thrusting deeper.

“Mmh! Your tits, please!”

She huffed smugly before fucking into you faster. She brought her hand up to her chest, squeezing one of them through her bra, “These tits?”

“Yeaah, fuck!” You could already feel another orgasm twisting in your gut at the painful stretch.

She mumbled out an uh huh as she slowly pulled the elastic up, her breasts slowly dropping out. She slowed her thrusts and brought her other hand to pull the cotton over her head, throwing her head back as both hands played with her nipples. Her moaning made you moan and fuck, you were in love!

“Lemme go, El, fuck!” you pleaded, your hands pulling at the restraints. How was such fragile cloth so resistant!

“Shit, baby, feels s’fucking good,” you watched her pull and twist them as she whimpered your name as she ignored you. She’d stopped thrusting to play with herself, only slowly grinding her hips into you, so you planted your feet on the bed to thrust your hips downward, clumsily bouncing up and down on her dick as you watched her.

She looked down at you and sneered, “Yeah? Wanna fuck me?”

“Yes, w’na make you cum, daddy.”

“Here, baby, gimme your hands,” you halted your movements bringing your arms to hers. She tore the knot in your panties and tossed them before slowly pulling out fully, a nasty shhlck! filling the room. You were so wet.

She leaned above you, reaching over your head to grab some pillows, setting them beside you. Her tits were in your face, so you slowly brought an inexperienced hand up to touch one softly. You gave it a gentle squeeze, bringing your other hand up to rub into the other. She let out a satisfied sigh of your name. You leaned up, boldly taking a soft nipple into your mouth. You sucked at it softly as your eyes fluttered shut, swirling your tongue around the sensitive skin.

“Shit, tha’s so good,” she moaned out before pulling at your now sweated out hair. You gave her one last hard suck before your head fell back on the bed, her mouth instantly connecting with yours in a spit-filled, smacking kiss. Her tongue was sliding all over yours before you sucked it into your mouth, making her moan into your mouth. She brought her hand up to wrap around your throat, gently squeezing the sides. She pulled back with a look of concern on her face, grip immediately loosening at your whimper, but you brought a hand up to cover hers on your throat, squeezing tighter. Your eyes nearly crossed when she hummed with a knowing smirk, pressing her middle finger and thumb into the sides again. She pulled away, licking your bottom lip before bending down to whisper in your ear.

“Turn over.”

You stumblingly flipped onto your stomach as she shoved two plush pillows under your hips to support them, even though you were poking your ass out towards her anyway. You felt her slap it playfully before kissing it.

You felt her hands pulling your cheeks apart like she told you to do to yourself earlier. You felt her staring and it made your heart beat faster.

“Okay, El?”

“Mhm, just looking.”

You looked at her over your shoulder, “You can… um… y’know?”

“No, I don’t know,” she snickered.

“What… what you said earlier?”

“What’d I say?”

“About me! The thing you said!”

“Want me t’eat your ass?” She said in between kisses on your cheek. She was grinning so hard.

“…Y-yes?”

“Then ask me.”

You looked forward with a harsh sigh, “You’re so annoyi— “

A tight hand grabbed your hair to pull your head back roughly. You let out a pained moan at the ceiling before you felt her lips at your ear, “What’d I tell you about that fuckin’ mouth?”

You instinctively pushed back on her with a whine of m’sorry daddy!

“No, you’re not, you keep talking shit’n it’s pissing me off. I’ve been trying to be nice t’you.”

Nice?! She almost made you black out with one orgasm!

You didn’t have a response, but your eyes actually did cross when you felt a thumb prod your ass.

“Should just shove m’dick in here, huh? I bet that’d get you to shut the fuck up,” she spat out and your back arched deeper at her proposal.

You felt another glob of spit land on your other hole, her thumb immediately circling it before popping the tip of it in. You let out a loud moan at the intrusive sting.

“Been wanting me to fuck this ass since I said it, haven’t you?” She rasped at you.

“Yeah!“

“Yeah!” She mocked you in a squeaky tone. “You’re disgusting, who woulda thought you would like this type of shit.”

Her thumb was fucking in and out of your hole as fast as she could manage. You shouldn’t like how much it hurts, that burn shouldn’t be making your orgasm build up again.

She let your hair go and your head flopped onto the pillow in front of you. Your nails dug into it when you felt her dick line up at the entrance of your pussy before she shoved it in. You let out a muffled shout.

You didn’t have a chance to adjust before she started fucking into you hard. Squelchy noises, slaps of skin, and your screams of pleasure immediately filled the room, her headboard knocking against the black walls. It was so fast and hot and made you feel cheap, and you fucking loved it. It made you feel desired.

“This is what you wanted me to do in that fuckin’ closet?”

“Yeah, daddy, fuck!”

“Wanted me t’fuck you up? Make you m’fucking bitch?”

“Uggh! El—!”

“Shouldn’t even be fucking you in this bed,” She groaned out, grinding her thumb deep into your ass.

“Should’ve bent you over that dinner table, right in front of that fucker.”

The imagery of Ellie fucking into you in front of your asshole of a waiter, making you scream out in front of everyone eating and drinking, claiming you as hers so that they know who you belong to made you see white. You bit down on the pillow in front of you as bursts of wetness left your cunt and splattered onto your thighs, the pillows, and Ellie’s dick. But she didn’t stop, you felt her go faster. Hit deeper.

“M’cu-mming!” you screamed, shouts of prickling pleasure muffled by the material in your mouth.

“Yeah? Tha’s making you cum? Wanna get fucked in public like a whore?”

“D-ahh! Fuckme!”

“Baby’s so stupid for this dick,” Her tip was hitting your fucking cervix and it hurt so good. You were about to cum again! “Who’s pussy is this?”

“S’your pussy! S’daddy’s pussy!”

“Keep sayin’ that, s’gonna make me cum so hard,” she groaned out, her thumb leaving your ass and ripping the pillows from underneath you, your hips dropping onto the bed. You felt her push back into you, her chest on your back as she grinded deep into you. Her arm came around your neck, your throat right in the crevice of her elbow as you let the pillow fall from your mouth. Your nails were digging into the covers as your cunt gushed on her.

“You’re getting so fucking wet. Like when I fuck you up? Treat you like shit?”

“Yeah yeahyeah—!”

“Make me cum, babygirl,” she whispered in your ear. “Fuck me back, c’mon.”

You pushed back onto her as best as you could as she grinded forward, even though it was quick and sloppy and desperate. She started moaning out fucks and like thats and all you could mumble out was slurry s’yours, daddy! because you knew she liked it. Her voice on its own was getting you there.

“Fuck, m’gonna fucking cum— “

“Uh huh! Cum in me, daddy pleasepleaseplease!” you squealed out in dazed excitement. You want her cum you want her cum!

“Fuuuck, babygirl, s’coming—!”

“Please make my p-pussy sloppy?” you could barely get your pleas out as your mind fogged. You couldn’t even bring yourself to feel embarrassed at your eagerness for her cum, and by the way Ellie shouted your name in your ear as her body shook on top of yours, she must’ve somewhat liked it? Right?

Your second thoughts quickly died as you fucked back onto her, helping her ride out her orgasm. She was crying out as her nails dug into your shoulder, and the sharp pierce made you cum again! You let out babbles of her name in your pleasure. You were both messes in each other's arms, you pushing back while she pushed forward, trying to make it last as long as you could before it died down.

You let out wet groans as she grinded you both to the ends of your orgasms, and you collapsed.

You felt a light kiss on your shoulder before Ellie gently pulled out of you, falling onto the bed so that you were side by side. You both tried to catch your breath in your exhaustion.

After minutes of heavy breathing and light caresses from Ellie, you reached under to grab the object that was digging into your side. When you saw what it was, your eyes widened, and stomach twisted.

You heard Ellie laugh softly next to you, “We didn’t get to use it.”

You paused as you stared at the buttplug that she’d thrown on the bed, the faux emerald at the end of it shining under the green fairy lights.

“It’s pretty,” you said in a hoarse whisper.

“Mhm,” she nodded. “Feels good, too.”

Your toes curled.

“What’s it feel like?”

She smiled, “You sound cute when you ask that.”

You shook your head and grinned shyly, “I’m just curious, I assume it’s… nice, or whatever! People on Twitter always talk about it.”

“Yeah, it’s really fucking nice.”

“Have you used it?” She nodded.

“Course I have, used all of ‘em.”

“Tell me what happened!” you said, dropping the toy on the bed before giddily flipping onto your side to face her. It made her giggle; You loved that sound.

“I was… like in this sex shop in Cali, and the cashier was like ‘heyyy, your orders over a hundred dollars, you can get a free item, blah blah blah’— “

“Not that, you bonehead! I mean when you use it!” You both let out loud laughs.

Her smile dropped slowly before she whispered, “Came really fuckin’ hard the first time I tried it, like… really hard. Swore I saw god.”

Your core squeezed in intrigue. You listened closely as she continued, “Like, I was still cumming even after I switched it off. There was a giant puddle on the floor when I finally stopp—.”

“Ellie?” you softly cut her off.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Can you… will you… I wanna try?” you said as your face burned, hoping she would accept your poor proposal to take your… other virginity.

You watched a sly grin slowly grow on her face.

“Lemme go check on Duchess’n smoke.”

You nodded slowly with a fluttery blink.

It was almost midnight, and you were laying next to Ellie on her couch in her Lauryn Hill shirt as you nursed a bottle of water. You watched as she exhaled the smoke from her pre-roll.

After chasing Duchess around the kitchen and living room, you both covered her in kisses before filling her food bowl and shutting the guest door as she ate.

“Such a nice view,” you mumbled as you gazed out the large window. You’d never been fond of the city: you always appreciated the stillness of your town, the close community where everyone knew each other, but the scenery in front of you almost makes you want to change your mind. It was always so lively and bright, even in the darkness.

“Right? When I first moved in, I slept in front of the window for weeks. The noise helped me sleep a bit better and the lights are pretty,” She said quietly before taking a puff. You listened and watched as she exhaled the smoke. You sat your bottle on the floor before speaking.

“Can I try?”

“You know how?” She asked impishly with a raise of her brow as the remnants of her puff left her mouth and nose.

“Fuck you! I know how to smoke, I just choose not to!”

“Right,” she said with an eye roll, gently tapping the ashes off on the ashtray in front of her before passing the joint to you.

You propped yourself up on your elbows before taking it between your thumb and pointer finger, watching the smoke leave the lit end before sticking it between your lips. You only inhaled for a couple seconds before pulling it from your mouth, softly coughing.

You slowly turned your head to look at her for approval, finding that she was already watching you. Her hair was still damp from earlier, her lips were swollen, and she was still in her boyshorts.

“Meh. Still a fucking rookie,” she said in a light tone as she wet her lips. You shoved her shoulder with yours, making her laugh.

“That strain’s supposed to make you horny,” she whispered, attempting to grab the joint from you. Something nasty curled in your gut at her tone, mindlessly bringing the joint back to your lips and inhaled some more before she could snatch it. You held it much longer than the first puff before choking on the carbon, making her laugh at you. You felt her pat your back gently through your coughs. You passed it back to her and she took it with a shake of her head.

After she smoked her joint down, she bolted upstairs, swiftly returning to the couch with full hands.

You flipped onto your back as she pressed the button on the buttplug remote, and it immediately started pulsing. She smirked down at you.

“There’s a couple settings, we can try ‘em all and see which one you like the most, ‘kay?”

You nodded eagerly as she switched it off and threw the toy on the couch next to her dick and flavored lube. She straddled you, grabbing your face in both hands to connect your lips in a soft kiss. You hummed into her mouth before she pulled away.

“Lemme give you head first, though.”

“S-sure.”

She hummed before smacking her wet lips onto yours. She planted wet, sucking kisses on your jaw, neck, and shoulder before she moved down your body. She lifted the shirt you had on just under your tits before she went crazy on your clit. She was flicking and licking and sucking between your legs as your fingers ran through her soft hair to pull her closer. Your moans and noises of your pussy as she fucked you with her tongue and fingers filled the entire first floor of her home. You came so quickly on her tongue, squeezing the muscle and fingers in a bone-crushing grip. You could tell she liked it as much as you did by how she moaned into your cunt.

After you came down, Ellie instructed you to hold your legs up so she could see your ass. They were pressed to your chest, both your arms tucked into the crevice of your knees as Ellie prepped you for the toy.

She’d rubbed some of your cum in before she spat on it, and now she was drenching her fingers and opening in the lubricant as you watched.

“Just relax, ‘kay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. You were a bit nervous, but your walls were clenching with want.

She nodded before gently rubbing your drenched hole with her pointer and middle finger, making you sigh. You felt her slowly push a finger in and you immediately started to squirm. Your body was so hot already.

“Okay?” She asked you gently.

“Yeah m’good,” you said in a wanton sigh.

She grinned before kissing the back of your thigh. You felt another finger at your entrance before a burning sensation took over when she slowly pressed it in, and your head dropped onto the cushion in a choked gasp.

“Yeah? You like this shit?” She asked snarkily, but shock was evident in her voice.

“Y-yeah, El, like it!”

“So fucking cute, gonna fuck this ass so hard,” she whispered out, grinding her fingers deeper before pulling them out to squirt more lube on them.

She slowly pushed them back in and the lack of resistance made your toes curl.

“Do me a favor?”

“M-mhm?”

“Get that nice’n wet for me,” she said, shoving the emerald plug in between your twitchy fingers. You gripped it tight, releasing the hold you had on your legs so you could spread them. You brought your free hand down to your drippy cunt to spread the lips, exposing your clit. You slowly dragged the toy up and down your folds, a quiet, squishy sound joining the already sloppy noises in the room from Ellie’s fingers in your ass.

You could see her watching with a blush on her face, licking her lips as she prodded another finger at your clenching opening. You could feel the stretch more as she slowly popped the tip of it in, so you distracted yourself. You propped yourself on one elbow to bring the plug down to the entrance of your cunt, slowly fucking it into you. The silicone ridges dragged on your walls, and it made your eyes roll as you moaned softly. Ellie let out a shocked moan as she watched you fuck the plug in and out of your pussy. She leaned forward to spit on your clit, and you brought your shaky hand down to rub it. She mumbled curses out.

“Thinking about me fucking this pretty pussy? Wan’me t’split you open again?” She hummed out messily. She was just as fucked up as you were, and it made you squeeze.

“Yeah, daddy,” you moaned out softly, fucking the toy into yourself faster as Ellie fucked three fingers into your ass. “Shit!”

“Uh huh, nasty slut, look at you milking that fuckin’ toy.”

You picked up the pace of your shallow thrusts and she matched you, fucking even harder into your ass. You brainlessly brought your wet fingers up to your tits, roughly grabbing at both your nipples in attempts to mimic Ellie’s hands on you. You felt the familiar pull in your gut, but it was so much stronger, and you knew it was going to hit you hard. You were going to cum so quick!

“Ellie,” you could barely get your squeaky warning out, “Thi-think m’gonna, g’na make a m-ess!”

“Yeah, wan‘it baby, make me wet— “

“M’gonna—!”

You cut yourself off with a sharp gasp as colors exploded behind your eyelids, the hand at your tits slamming onto the cushion to dig your nails into it. Your shouts of pleasure overtook the sputtering sounds of wetness that shot out of you. You pulled the toy out and rubbed quick circles on your clit with it, making you release more juices all over Ellie’s expensive couch. She didn’t even seem to care with how hard she was still fucking your ass, whispering nasty curses at you, talking you through it, calling you sloppy, calling you hers. Your legs were trembling as both holes quivered in release.

Your sprays were starting to die down with the circles on your clit, Ellie’s fingers slowing.

Your eyes slowly peeled open, and you were met with her… high ass ceiling! You smiled as you felt her place kisses all over your thighs.

“Tired?” she mumbled out against your knee.

You slowly shook your head when you regained your ability to move.

“Wan’more.”

And she smirked.

Ellie moved you onto your stomach, —if she kept fucking you like this, you were going to die! — your face shoved into her cushion so you were surrounded by her scent. Your ass was, once again, propped up on Ellie’s expensive fucking pillows that you were about to stain with your sopping cunt, but neither of you cared. She was lubricating the plug from behind you, the gooey noises from the slippery liquid filling your ears.

You should’ve never hit that fucking aphrodisiac of a joint when she passed it to you: you never wanted to have sex so fucking bad in your life. You just lost your virginity a few hours ago; What’s happening to you?!

You couldn’t think of anything except Ellie and cumming and Ellie’s cum! You wanted her cum inside you so bad, you want to drown in her with every chance she’d give you—

“Ready, baby?”

“Yes, daddy, m’ready, need it s’bad,” you muffled into the cushion, your cheek squished against it. You sounded so… far away.

“Listen t’you, all floaty,” she murmured. You could hear her grin through it, it made your toes curl, “Feelin’ good?”

“S’good, daddy, fuck me please?”

“…Look at me, babe.”

You used all your energy to lift yourself up onto your elbows turning your sweaty, thoughtless head towards her, gazing over your shoulder and into her gentle, concerned eyes. She’s so beautiful—

“Baby?”

“Hm?”

“Why're you smilin’?”

“M’happy,” you felt yourself grin harder.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nodded lightly. “W’na fuck.”

“‘Kay,” she nodded, her searching gaze still lingering on your face. “Tap my thigh twice.”

You reached a limp hand behind you, immediately following her instructions.

“You do that when you wanna stop, okay?” You nodded, you felt like a bobble head. You want her in your guts now.

“What're you gonna do when you wanna stop?”

You paused.

Then tapped her thigh twice. You dropped your head on the cushion again.

You felt her kiss down your back. You sighed happily.

She slowly rubbed your clit and you jolted, before pushing your hips back onto her fingers. She was planting gentle kisses all over your back and shoulders to relax you. You let out a whine at the feel of her lips on you.

Then you felt the silicone on your hole. You moaned into the cushion in excitement and anticipation, you needed it to pulse inside you so badly.

“What’re gonna do when you wanna stop?” She repeated, her breathing heavy.

You slapped her thigh a bunch of times. You needed her to know you wanted it. You needed this so badly! You needed to know she wanted you!

Then you felt her pop the tip of it inside you. You cried out in appreciation as your holes clenched tight, trying to suck the toy deeper into you. She was pressing soft kisses all over your spine as she slowly pushed it in. You hadn’t realized that you were grinding your clit into the soft fabric of the pillow under you.

“Such a good girl, taking it so easy,” You felt her push the last little part of it inside your ass before the little jewel at the end of it was poking out of you. It was so foreign, but you couldn’t help the satisfied sighs and soft cries as you pussy dripped all over her pillows and couch.

You felt her plant one more kiss at the end of your spine before you felt the vibrations stir in your ass.

“Fuck, oh god! M’—aah!”

“Yeah? Feels fucking good, doesn’t it?”

You didn’t even have the ability to think of an answer before you felt her dick poke at the entrance of your cunt, slowly sliding in. Every wire in your brain went into overdrive as the pulsing of the toy and her cock rattled your insides in unison. She was slowly fucking her dick into you, sliding in deep so her tip bumped into your cervix, making you let out a muffled shout into the couch cushion.

“Fuckmedaddywan’itharder—!”

Your quick babbles were cut off as she sped up her thrusts, both her hands planted at the end of your back so she could rock you back and forth on her dick. She was drilling you, your slick coating the balls of her strap. You felt yourself slowly drifting away, your eyes crossed in your head and drool spilling down your cheek. All you could think about was Ellie. EllieEllieEllie—!

“M’right here, babygirl, I gotchu,” she cooed at you as she dug you out and you went limp. You heard the gushy sounds of your pussy and fuck, you were going to squirt so hard you felt it in your toes—

You felt the vibrations in your ass increase and you let out shouts of bliss, her tip beating your cervix just how you needed with every thrust. For the first time in your life, your brain was silent: no doubt, no loathing, no anxiety. Just pure ecstasy. You felt so fucking full. Full of her and joy and love! You love her and you never wanted her to leave you again. You love her you love her—

“M’yours, daddy, promise!” Tears pricked at your eyes as that hot feeling grew in your stomach. Your heart was pounding, and you couldn’t think, you just rambled as pleasure and happiness and love rushed through you. You were about to cum, all over her, all for her—!

“Shhh, I know, baby, it’s okay— “

“Don’t wan’anyone else! M’yours, always yours!”

You don’t remember when, but Ellie had pulled out of you. And the vibrations stopped. But you were still riding that edge, this close to your peak. Your fists clenched tight, and your hips bucked back to meet hers even though she wasn’t there to catch them. You heard Ellie gently call out your name from your side as she rubbed your back in attempts to slow your fuzzy babbling, “Look at m— “

“Always loved you, daddy, always been you, m’yours, m’all you— “

You cut yourself off with moans of her name and incoherent shouts and sobs of love you so much! I love you! as your orgasm ripped through you. Your thighs trembled as colorful specs of glitter exploded in your vision. You heard yourself screaming out as wetness splattered all over you and the couch and everywhere, and it didn’t stop. Your euphoria was so strong, your clenching cunt spraying as your ass squeezed around the plug shoved deep inside you. You were just shaking and crying and cumming and cumming and cumming—

You don’t know how much time passed, but you were still shaking as tears rolled down your cheeks. You couldn’t feel the plug inside you and Ellie’s strap was gone: you were pressed against her bare chest, your tits pressed together as she held you close. She was rubbing your back as she pressed gentle kisses to the side of your sweaty head, gently humming in your ear. You slowly brought your arm up to limply throw around her waist. You couldn’t say anything.

“Hi, honey,” She barely whispered in your ear. “Can you look at me?”

You slowly shook your head. You felt her kiss your head again.

“S’fine, just breath, okay?”

You nodded again. And your eyes welled up some more.

She must’ve heard your sniffling because she immediately pulled back to gently caress your cheek. You tried to turn your head to hide in the cushion, but she wasn’t having it.

“C’mon angel, it’s just me, okay?”

You slowly redirected your gaze to hers, your vision blurry as you studied her features. You cried harder, sobbing as you nestled into her shoulder.

She didn’t press you after that, she only held you tighter. She whispered gentle shhhs and s’okay, baby, m’heres as you wept into her sweaty skin.

You know she heard your confession of your long-lasting feelings for her, and even though she didn’t seem upset with you, you couldn’t shake the embarrassment, confusion, and despair that overtook you.

But she held you. She held you so tight.

After your gasped sobs eased into soft whimpers and shaky exhales, Ellie guided you upstairs and into her bathroom, strong arms wrapped around your waist to steady your uncoordinated movements.

She lifted you onto the counter and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before moving to the shower to turn it on. All you did was stare at her black towel hanging from the wall rack. You still couldn’t think.

You heard her shuffling around before she moved back to you, easily easing you off the counter and into the shower, making sure to place you under the warm water first.

You gaped at the droplets sliding down the shower wall and she rubbed the lathered sponge into your skin softly. She littered you with kisses the entire time: on your face, shoulder, fingers, anywhere she could reach. But you couldn’t move, and neither of you said anything.

After Ellie rinsed you off, she gently dried your coils and face while kissing your nose. You allowed her to wrap you in a towel, gently drying off the rest of your body as you looked off into nothing.

“C’mon, honey,” she whispered into your ear as she moved behind you, holding onto your waist and walking you to her bed to sit you down, her soiled blanket already discarded on the floor.

It seemed like everything was moving in slow motion as you gazed around her room: the lights were twinkling like fireflies, her fan in the corner of the room whirring like gusts of wind in your ears, the strings of the rug under your feet reminding you of clouds.

She softly called your name as she walked in front of you. Your legs fell open so she could stand between them, “Look at me.”

You took a deep breath before meeting her tender gaze. She cupped your cheeks, softly rubbing her thumbs into them, “You needa eat and drink something, okay? Want some water?”

You nodded.

“Is it okay if I leave for a sec— “

You shook your head quickly as tears filled your eyes at the thought of her leaving. You need her close, you need her here with you—

“Shhh, not gonna go, not leaving, I’m right here,” she comforted immediately, planting more kisses all over your face.

“Want some clothes?” You shook your head, and she nodded gently. She gave your lips one more kiss before ushering you to stand. She walked over to her dresser and grabbed her pine-scented lotion and ointment. She moved behind you, rubbing the soothing cream on your ass before moisturizing your skin, the pine surrounding you. You calmed down at the smell.

“Okay, baby, come lay down.”

She grabbed your wrist gently as she moved you to your side, telling you to lay on your stomach as she pulled a new blanket from her linen cabinet. You obeyed silently.

You were instantly surrounded by warmth as she tucked you into her forest-scented covers. You heard her shuffling behind you before she walked around to her side in a new pair of boxers.

She laid next to you, pulling you into her chest as you breathed her in, sighing contently into her skin. She smelled so fucking good! You grinned.

She must’ve felt it as she pressed kisses to your head, “What’re you cheesing for?”

You shook your head and grinned harder, nestling deeper into her neck. She laughed lightly.

“We’ll talk in the morning, okay?” She whispered out to you.

You nodded, eyes shut.

You dreamt of pine-filled meadows.

OOOOOOWEEEE alright bookies that’s it :p i already got ideas 4 the next part LOOOOOL so yeah gonna start writing that soon. hope y’all liked it and the wait 4 the real smut was worth it. lots to comeeee

hope its proofread enough lol i always think that it is n then i go back and see a bunch of errors

pt. 6

shoutout to my wittle taglist🥺 love yall so bad n thank u for being interested in this little project i created :D @fandomshitpostingqueen, @nymphetkoo, @sawaagyapong , @gold-dustwomxn , @amitycat , @nil-eena , @elsivy , @constellieationn , @letsreadsomesins-shallwe :3

#ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #black!oc #black!reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams au #ellie williams x black!reader #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪#ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #scent of the pine. ̥*ೃ

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