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elliesgaythoughts · 3 months

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Ellie fucking you in your brothers room after she had an argument with him

Toxic bbf!Ellie x in love reader

Warnings: fighting, angst, oral, blood, spit kink (once) and weed💗

“Broo cmon!” Ellie’s yell passes through your brothers room to your ears as you sit crossed legged atop your bed, barely reading up on your studies, your mind was other places. You missed Ellie.

It has been days since Ellie had her fingers buried inside your snug cunt, since you moaned her name and fucked yourself on her, since she called you her good girl as she sucked her fingers clean and walked out of your room as if nothing had happened. She then walked downstairs and greeted your parents so sweetly with the taste of you still on her tongue.

You tried to focus on the sounds from kehlani that filled your ears but her yells that started playfully at your brother were starting to sound a bit more serious, they argued often over stupid shit like video games and sports “you didn’t fucking win!” “I fucking did. What do you call this then?” You hear him chuckle as he probably shows her the scoreboard, then the house goes silent as Ellie knocks the wind from his lungs with a swift punch to the ribs “cunt!” she screams as he hits her back with a box to the face and you hear the sound of fists hitting flesh and hisses of pain for a solid ten minutes before you hear your brother yell at you “im gonna go get some air!” and slam the front door.

You grab a cloth and cautiously walk out in just your pink shorts, a white crop and your hair in a ponytail “Ellie?” You call softly as you follow the sounds of her groans into your brothers room, you creak the door open and your heart drops at the sight “fuuck baby” you coo, stepping forward with the rag in your hand and reaching up to wipe the bloody corner of her mouth “don’t call me that”

She hated when you showed her affection but when she saw your bottom lip tremble, your eyes tear up and your gaze fall she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around you “shh it’s okay mama” she cooed, rubbing circles onto your waist. You knew what she was going to ask for next. She always knew how to talk to you when she wanted something. She knew what you needed to hear.

The auburn headed woman huffs through her lips “I need you mama” and your eyes light up as you look at her from the spot on her chest where she rested your head “yeah?” She pauses “yeah” and separates herself from you.

Her eyes land on your lips then to where she taps on her belt buckle and you understand instantly what she wants from you as you drop to your knees softy. Even though you knew she saw you as nothing but a release you were on your knees in front of her and insatiable for the taste of her, clumsily unbuckling the leather of her belt, undoing her zipper and pulling the denim past her pale thighs, her boxers following suit soon after.

Your mouth falls open and your pupils turn heart shaped at the sight of her as you take her in, the auburn trail that led down her toned tummy to her bush, the glisten of her slick against her lips. Your gaze softening and your breaths picking up as she lifted one of her legs over your shoulder and gripped your ponytail “cmon mama, are you gonna make daddy feel good?” “yeah..” you trail off, never removing your eyes from her wet cunt as you feel yourself throb against your panties “gonna make you feel so good daddy”

You breathe in as your fingertips dance on the outside of her thighs, feeling her smooth flesh as your lips meet her cunt and you feel her hair tickle the tip of your nose as you kiss over her lips and whine at the feel of her on your pout as you slide your tongue through her dripping folds, a guttural moan leaving your throat as you palmed her ass and pressed her closer to your mouth while you tasted her beating clit, sucking on it as your eyes met hers.

Ellie nearly came at the sight of you, her clit between your lips and her slick painted across you face as your pretty doe eyes begged so desperately for approval from the girl that gripped your hair and rewarded you with a strained groan.

Your cunt was aching as she pulled on your hair, disconnecting you from her puffy clit and gripping your chin to open your mouth “tongue out” and your pink muscle is revealed to her instantly before she disrespectfully spits onto it and carelessly shoves your face back against her cunt as you instantly sucked and flicked at her clit.

Both of her hands gripped onto the back of your head as her hips bucked “oh fuck” her voice cracks “that’s it baby, just like that” and you nod, closing your eyes and whining “please” begging her to cum on your tongue, begging to be used like the slut you are, your cheeks hollowing and your finger teasing her entrance and slowly sliding inside her, making Ellie fold over as she clenched onto your finger, her belly spasming and hips bucking as she grinded onto your face, pulling your hair so hard that it hurt as she coated your finger and tongue in her pearlescent cum while she panted above you, trying to regain her breath.

A sigh left her and her puffy clit throbbed contently on your tastebuds as you rested your face against her and pulled your finger from inside her pulsating cunt “you taste so good daddy” you praise onto her pink flesh but doesn’t answer.

She lifts her shaky leg from your shoulder “you’re so good for me mama” and you try to hide the stupid smile that appears on your face as you look at her and dress her again as she runs her fingers through your hair while you close over her belt and kiss the buckle before raising to your feet and wrapping your arms over her shoulders, looking at her blushed face and leaning forward for a kiss, you’ve never kissed her before despite how intimate you both have been it still felt distant but this time felt different, it felt like she actually cared about you and you cared about her, you always have.

Your eyes flutter close as you cup her face, ready to finally feel her mouth against yours before you felt her leave your grip “go get cleaned up mama” she says before turning around and sitting in your brothers gaming chair, picking the controller up and turning on fifa again without giving you a second glance.

You felt your mouth turn into that horrible feeling of a frown and heard a sob leave your throat but Ellie acted like she couldn’t hear you, she wished she couldn’t hear you “close the door on your way out.” “okay” you whisper as you looked at the carpet and walked away.

You felt so used, a small tear rolling down your cheek as you left the room and closed the door behind you.

You walk into your bathroom and stop to look in your mirror, the sight of Ellie glistening on your lips and the tears rolling down from your bloodshot eyes turned your stomach as you tried to wipe them away while you stifled a sob as you heard the front door slam and your brother come up the stairs, walk pass the bathroom and into his bedroom.

He stood against the doorframe as he eyed Ellie “You gonna admit I won now?” He says to her, he seems more calm now and so does she, maybe fucking his little sister made her feel like she truely had a one up on him anyway. Sure he beat her score but she fucked his sisters face just moments ago so she didn’t give a fuck if he thought he won.

“Sure” she laughs as she tosses him the controller and sparks up a blunt, leaning back in his chair and manspreading as she took a draw and smirked to herself before she spoke “your sister is nice”

He stilled as he paused the game and stared her down “don’t you dare” he has always been protective of you and Ellie knew this “what?” She giggled “just don’t” “bro she’s your sister” she rolls her eyes “what do you take me for? I’d never”

@williamellieslilho @yourelliewillms @moonalumi @heygrimace @pascals-doll @infiniteinquiries @aouiaa

#bbf!ellie #ellie williams #lesbian #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x latina!reader #ellie x dom reader #ellie x black!reader #ellie x you #ellie williams x sub reader #ellie willams x reader #Ellie williams angst #ellie angst

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cloudwisp · 4 months

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𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 · 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

contents: fluff. established relationship. found family. megumi takes up baking and it takes you back to your teenage years when a certain white-haired someone pined for you. 1.4k wc.

Nine year old Megumi has a crush on someone. You were pleasantly surprised when he asked you to take him to the grocery store to pick up some ingredients, and you inquired if there was a special occasion or a school cooking project as you both walked along the aisle and collected the items on his list that he prepared beforehand.

Your heart melts when you learn that he was planning to gift the pretty girl in his class something homemade, and he decided on butter cookies because she mentioned in passing that it was one of her favorite snacks. You think it’s incredibly sweet that Megumi came up with the idea himself, and even more so that he wanted to set aside a weekend to create something completely from scratch with his own two hands when purchasing a square tin would’ve been much easier.

It certainly reminds you of an insufferable yet equally lovable sorcerer that’s way too tall for his own good with too bright blue eyes that make you forget everything around you if you stare into them a little too long. When you both were just two young teenagers pining after each other and he showed up with a white pastry box hidden behind his back on a summer day, with the strawberries in season and nurtured and harvested to perfection. You smile at the pleasant memory before forcing yourself back to reality.

When you are getting ready to pay for the things you and Megumi placed on the conveyor belt, he stops you and pulls out his Digimon wallet (courtesy of Gojo’s taste in presents) and explains he wants to purchase it with his own savings and be able to say that this gift is entirely by him without receiving any help from others.

You almost had to hold back a tear because when did this boy become so sweet? You suppose he always was this sweet and thoughtful, it just took a bit of time and some trust for him to fully warm up to you and Gojo despite the circumstances with his family and almost being sold off like a pawn to the Zenin clan. And now he has a home where him and his sister could feel like they belong and be surrounded with people that he could depend on because at the end of the day Megumi is just a boy much too young to be growing up too fast.

You announce your return home to Gojo and Tsumiki with the soft thud of the grocery bags being placed on the kitchen counter, and Megumi scurries into his bedroom to fetch the printed recipe he tucked away in a drawer. You carefully take out each item from the bags to place on the surface for him to get started, and white tufts of hair come into your peripherals and Gojo greets you with a cheeky grin.

“Angel, you’re back.” His hand falls on your hip and he softly pecks your lips when you turn your head toward him. He does a quick scan of the contents in front of you, and he decides you must be some kind of mind reader or his telepathic messages have finally reached you after several days now. “Aw baby~ Don’t tell me you’re baking something for me? How did you know I was craving—”

“Not me.” You shake your head and cut him off promptly. “Megumi.” And at the mention of his name, the young raven-haired boy enters the kitchen with a loose paper in his grip. You offer him a polite smile before addressing that everything he needs is on the counter and point to where the baking equipment are, and if he has any questions or concerns then you’ll be in the next room with Gojo as you drag your boyfriend by the arm to give Megumi his privacy.

“You see, Satoru, our Megumi here has a crush on someone. And he’s taken it upon himself to bake her cookies!” You say just above a whisper, a proud smile lining your lips and Gojo arches a curious brow. You catch a peek between the threshold that separates the kitchen and sitting area with Gojo looming behind you and find Megumi checking off the ingredients and looking over the instructions. He’s being thorough, that’s a good start.

“Megumi, eh? You know, I’m a little surprised he’s crushing at all. He’s quite the serious kid.”

You huff at him softly. “Well, serious or not, I think everyone is allowed to have crushes. Besides, doesn’t this remind you of something? Like that time you baked me a strawberry shortcake because strawberries were my favorite?” You look back up at him, and in your gaze there was always a sort of sweet and dreamy expression that never fails to make his heart swell three times too big.

“Ah.” Gojo chuckles, and his mind drifts back to the fond memories of his own youth, when he too used to try his hand at baking sweets in the hopes of impressing you. He remembered how long it took and how many attempts he made since he had no prior experience. There was a lot of flour and eggshells, and maybe he did set the oven on fire… but the moment he saw your face light up with your beautiful smile it was worth all the trouble and the mess. “That was the cake that changed it all for us, huh?” His arms move to your waist and he presses a kiss to your forehead.

You nod and hum affectionately, your hands reaching up to wrap around his neck though with his height he had to bend down slightly. “That’s one way to put it. But as much as I appreciate the sweet gesture, I am so glad you left the baking to me since then.”

“You’re still teasing me about that to this day?” He playfully nips the sensitive spot on your neck causing you to giggle and lightly shove him away. “But hey, I never claimed to be a master chef. A little bird told me that maybe a homemade cake from me would be the thing to win your heart.”

“Well, I hope you know it was more than the cake that won my heart.”

“Yeah, I know it was my good looks and charm, you can’t get enough of me.” Gojo teases, peppering kisses over your shoulders and neck before pulling back just enough so his smirk comes into your view. “Enlighten me then. Since I still don’t have a clue why an Angel like you fell for a great catch such like myself.”

You playfully roll your eyes at his jokes, and you mull it over for a long moment to purposely keep him in anticipation. There are so many reasons that made you love Satoru Gojo back then, and every day you find new things to love about him. But for now the two qualities that come to mind should suffice for an answer. “Maybe it’s because I found you funny. And cute sometimes.”

“Sometimes? Cute most times, I think.” Gojo quips, and he gently pinches your cheeks. “And of course, my sense of humor is legendary. Who else can make you laugh like I do, hmm?”

“Alright, I think that’s enough flattery for you in one day. Any more and I’m afraid your enormous ego might burst.” There’s a teasing lilt in your voice, and suddenly the air around you feels sweeter as Gojo brings you closer to him and kisses your cheeks before resting his forehead against yours.

“But you know I love you, right?” He says in a much softer tone. “I might tease you a lot and act like an idiot sometimes, but I do appreciate you still being here with me through it all. Without you, I don’t want to imagine what my life would be like without you. You make me a better person, you know that?” He tenderly cradles the side of your face and gazes lovingly into your eyes before there’s a flash of his dimples and a boyish giggle. “And the fact you think I’m cute is icing on the cake. Pun intended.”

You groan softly but the laughter that came shortly after is one of genuine affection. “I'm gonna go check on Megumi.” Before you turn on your heel, you plant a big smooch on his cheek then you’re gone the next second. He stands there, grinning from ear to ear as he rubs the spot you kissed like he still was (and he still is) the lovesick boy just a few years back.

꒰ note ᰔ the idea where megumi takes after gojo in some ways really squeezes my heart and that’s what inspired this little piece. ꒱

#ᨳ ₊˚ 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐩.𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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ennabear · 2 months

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ʕっ≧ᴥ≦ʔっ daydreaming about soft dom!gas station!ellie fucking you in public… sigh….

“i- ellie!” you gasp. your jeans are around your ankles in a nanosecond. “what if someone sees?”

she nudges your legs open with her inked knuckles, fingertips tracing up and down your thighs. “don’t worry about it.” she soothes, her voice thick with lust.

“but-” you attempt to protest, getting cut off by the sensation of ellie’s teeth on your neck. her fingers press into the wet patch on your underwear as she sucks bruises onto your skin.

“shirt off.” she demands, almost growling at you.

“are you sure?”

“nobody can see us baby, it’s just me and you.” her hands sneaking up your shirt, past your stomach, and landing on your tits.

“or we could stop,” she whispers, mouth hovering over your ear. “and you could go home right now, dripping down your thighs and dreaming about me.”

you sigh. checkmate, she beat you. you tear your shirt off, throwing it on the floor behind her. “no bra?” she laughs. “guess you were waiting for this, huh?”

your nipples pebble under her cold fingers, one of your hands gripping onto the counter behind you, the other in her hair.

“mmh…” she groans, licking a long stripe from your neck to your tits, then taking one into her mouth. a soft whimper leaves her throat as you tug on her hair. you can’t begin to imagine how worked up she must be.

two of her fingers slip into your underwear, spreading the slick all around. “gonna let me have a taste?” she asks. you nod, brain growing fuzzy from all of her smooth talking, yet grinning sinfully. “yeah.”

and she’s on her knees in an instant. hooking one of your legs over her shoulder and guiding you to sit on her face. the parking lot behind her is empty. cars on the distant highway zip past, but the glow of the neon lights illuminates only you and her. like you’re the only two souls in the universe.

her warm mouth works wonders on your cunt, licking, kissing, practically drinking up all of the slick that’s dripping out of you. “tastes so good…” she drawls. “so fucking good.”

you whimper, eyes trained on the giant glass window in front of you, just in case. ellie picks up on this, wondering why your grip on her head has loosened.

“hey.” she snaps.

“hmm?” you gasp in response.

“eyes on me while i make you cum.” she demands. “you look away one more time and i’ll stop.” you moan at her words, heat flushing from your cheeks to your chest.

her green eyes seem to pierce through your soul, but it brings a sense of comfort. “use my face baby, come on. ride me.” in this very moment, it really is just you and her. your beautiful fool of a girlfriend begging to make love to you in the middle of her shift.

this thought makes you smile down at her, eyes filling with tears although you manage to blink them away. her tongue presses her way inside of you, fucking in and out with the bobs of her head.

a long whine forces it’s way out of your throat as you snap. your vision is overcome with a fuzzy white static, knees buckling as you lean into her touch.

“there she is…” ellie praises, rubbing your thighs as you come down from your high. “my girl, i knew you could do it.”

you exhale a deep breath, letting the adrenaline exit with it. ellie stands up, the two of you practically shaking, bonking heads, sloppily pressing your mouths together.

“my turn next?”

#fanks to pluto and maren for helping me decide if i should post this or not… what would i do without u guys #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #the last of us

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shotmrmiller · 8 months

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soulmate au part 1

john price x f!reader

wc: 1.2k

unedited, forgive my mistakes.

since you were born, your world has been grey. you never thought anything of it, until at school, they started teaching you colours. the only ones in the room that could see more than just different shades of grey, apart from the teacher, were identical twins.

weird.

you went home and asked your parents.

"we are born missing half of ourselves. we have a fated one, and when you meet them, your world will look the way it was meant to."

oh. but... "in class, there were twins that could see colour. what about them?"

they look surprised for a second until your dad softly explains. "in rare instances, the soulmate bond will be platonic. which makes sense in this case, because twins grow up with a connection regular people like us will never understand."

you nod and lower your gaze to look at your shoes. you wonder if the person meant for you is interested in junie b. jones books like you are.

in high school, you crush on this pretty girl— a cheerleader. her hair is long and beautiful, her face is small and round, and she's so kind. just your type.

but no colour stains your vision, so you burrow your emotions deep and mourn the loss of what could've been.

in college, one of your friends ask you if you've met your soulmate yet.

"no, not yet," you lament. what she says after freezes the blood in your veins.

"my mom knew someone whose soulmate was already dead before they had even been born," she comments while stabbing a grape tomato with her fork. "it was really tragic, because she'll never know what it's like to know a love that has no equal."

your heart is in your throat, and you find it hard to swallow the food in your mouth.

what if your soulmate is already dead? oh, god. you might just throw up. your friend doesn't seem to notice the change in your demeanor and continues to babble carelessly about how she knew someone that knew someone who's soulmate had turned out to be a murderer.

oh my fucking god.

you quickly run to the bathroom and throw up your lunch.

how cruel is the universe? to have no control over who is meant to be for you.

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and lean against the stall of the bathroom. you should've known that this soulmate business was too good to be true.

cupping your hands, you rinse the taste of bile out of your mouth before walking back to your friend who stayed in her seat.

"jesus, you look terrible, you alright?" she asks.

running your fingers through your hair, you huff. "i've certainly been better. just got a bit nauseous, nothing serious. maybe it's a stomach bug."

"oooh, you better not be pregnant! what of your dreams of working in the medical field?"

you giggle at her response. "that'd be impossible unless i'm the virgin mary."

she gapes comically then leans in and whispers, "you're lying! don't tell me you haven't dated anyone just because they weren't your soulmate."

you shrug, and keep your eyes fixed on your half-eaten plate of food. "i don't really wanna talk about it, if that's alright with you. besides, you've got bigger things to worry about, like the upcoming exam for mr. richardson."

slapping a hand to her forehead, she exclaims, "oh, shit! i totally forgot! shit!"

you watch her inhale the rest of her salad and toss her trash before waving goodbye and sprinting toward the library.

with a sigh, you look down at your food. grey. lifeless. shaking your head, you pick up your plate and toss it in the bin.

you decide to focus solely on your studies. you have dreams of being a doctor and pining after someone you haven't even met yet would only serve as a distraction.

your white coat grazes your calves as you walk toward your new patient. standing outside the room, you pick up the clipboard.

Price, John. 34, Active Military.

he's the head of the task force! god, you've only heard stories of them from the other medics on base who have met them, so to finally come face to face with the man, the myth, the legend? you wipe your clammy hands on the fabric of your scrubs and clear your throat.

be professional, be professional. he's just another patient, it's no big deal.

rapping your knuckles on the door, you wait a second before twisting the knob with a shaky hand. you nervously keep your eyes on the clipboard as you walk in.

"good morning, captain price."

"mornin', doc," he rumbles.

oh, his deep voice just might be the end of you.

"you don't sound all that happy to be here, captain," you tease while flipping through his medical history papers.

he lets out a low chuckle, and you squeeze your thighs together at the sound. delicious.

"nothin' personal, doc. just don't like bein' here, you understand."

lightly laughing at his joke, you finally steel your nerves and look up at him.

only to have your vision bleed in something you don't understand. is that colour? is this what colour looks like?

the clipboard drops, clattering to the floor. john— being the courteous gentleman that he is— quickly kneels to grab it and lifts his head as he hands it to you.

he freezes in place, the clipboard slipping from his hands as he stares at you.

you thickly swallow, and dumbly question, "do you...has your....colour? can you see colour?"

unblinking, john's eyes are fixated on you as he remains silent.

your eyes dart around to take in his features. his brightly-coloured eyes are framed by lines that hint at his age, his strong jaw adorned by a mutton-chop beard. his nose is specked with a beauty mark.

"what colour are your eyes, captain?" you softly ask.

he closes his mouth and takes in a sharp breath. "i've been told they're blue."

"blue," you smile. the eyes of your soulmate are blue.

but then, your delighted smile melts off your face, in horror.

there's a shiny band on his finger. he's married.

john price, your soulmate, is fucking married.

your vision distorts with the tears that threaten to spill and bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. it feels like there are shards of glass in your lungs, cutting you open with each quivering breath you take. your pain is red-hot, searing under your skin, flowing through your veins like molten lead.

john knows exactly what you're looking at.

"love—" he starts but you cut him off swiftly.

"don't. you don't owe me anything, captain. uhm, but uh... maybe it's best that we switch your doctors, yeah? conflict of interest, and all that."

you all but run away, away from that room, from him.

how terribly unlucky.

you head towards your office, which is down the hall, and slam the door closed. only then, do you cry, and mourn what should've been.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mwii #john price x f reader #john price x reader #john price #captain john price #captain john price x reader #captain price

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pr0cyon-lotor · 18 days

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Chat!!!

AU where Shen Yuan gets transmigrated into the body of a rogue cultivator and he finds a stray little girl. He picks her up and decides to raise her as his own since apparently she has no one.

The little girl's name? Su Xiyan.

Somehow she still ends up in Huan Hua Palace, but she manages to avoid Old Palace Master better. She still gets sent to seduce Tianlang-jun, and she still falls in love.

Shen Yuan approves because he does trust his daughter, but he does think her taste in men is... interesting. He manages to help Su Xiyan escape from Huan Hua when she realizes she has Luo Binghe. So Tianlang-jun isn't sealed either.

Years later, he meets Shen Jiu, and they fall in love. They're fluffy and cute, eventually they get married. But tragedy strikes as Shen Yuan is attacked by a demon using Without A Cure.

The wound was too large, he was too tired, his swag too swagful, his heart too big, his ass too fat. They killed my mans 😔

Shen Jiu and Su Xiyan are the people holding him as he dies. He feels fulfilled since he at least cherished his family this life.

Then Shen Yuan wakes up, he's at the hospital. He is confused at first but then a nurse calms him down and says it was probably a coma dream. Shen Yuan accepts this answer, yet he feels like he's too old for his body and his family notice he's suddenly a lot wiser and calm.

After all the therapy (both physical and mental) he is discharged. His family hover around him, and he lets it happen since he feels like he hasn't seen them in like years. Eventually they trust him to go on his own again.

Shen Yuan decides to become a teacher. He lives a rather calm life, but he can't help but feel like he left something behind. He constantly dreams about taking care of a little girl and marrying a beautiful man. (So maybe the dreams helped him realize he wasn't straight, but for some reason he felt like he already knew that.)

During one of his morning walks he encounters a cat with a golden coat and cream colored underbelly and sock. He barely managed to get a look at it before it bolted to him, meowing and yelling.

He eventually gets the memo and takes the cat with him, who seems content with it. He names her Su Xiyan after the little girl in his dreams.

Throughout the days of first having her, he notices that other cats tend to come visit. One has a completely black coat and keeps trying to seemingly catch Xiyan's attention. And another is a beautiful white cat with green eyes, who seems extremely fond of him, that is followed by a large grey tabby.

Shen Yuan ends up just getting used to the cats on his balcony and leaves food for them. They all seem to like him for some reason, probably because he gives them food.

The white cat is the most bold and just walks into his apartment whenever he wants Shen Yuan's attention. At least the grey tabby is sensible enough to wait for him to say he's allowed inside.

The white cat always hisses and fights with a tuxedo cat that always has a smaller cat following behind. The small cat is sweet, the bigger one tends to leave dead cats in front of his door...

Shen Yuan gets used to the fluffy semi-roommates. Eventually even a few kittens join the group, one from Xiyan herself and it looks suspiciously like the tomcat constantly following her. Even the hissy white cat has two little kittens following him, a little calico and a siamese kitten.

Life is good and Shen Yuan had too many cats.

#CANG QIONG CAT AU! CANG QIONG CAT AU! CANG QIONG CAT AU! CANG QIONG CAT AU! CANG QIONG CAT AU! CANG QIONG CAT AU! CANG QIONG CAT AU!!!!!#Su Xiyan will ve plot relevant if I have anything to say about it 😤😤😤#svsss #jiuyuan #scumcum #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #shen jiu #su xiyan #tianlang jun #ignore me im insane #we're so back #MORE STRANGE AND SPECIFIC AUS LETS FUCKIN GOOOOOOOOOOO #I'm not tagging all the implied characters #there's too many #feel free to guess them tho

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plutolovesyou · 2 months

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heh.. okay, so you asked for different.. rubs hands together villaniously as i materialize from the bottomless shadows..

sub!vampire!ellie biting/bloodsucking denial.. reminding her how much of a good girl she needs to be even when your wrist is practically just brushing past her lips to cradle her face.. or when the weakest bead of blood is pricked from your finger.. flaunting it.. teasing.. goddess bless throw in whatever else you see fit freakmaster

TEMPTATION WAITS

before you read! ▪︎ my masterlist ☆: co-president...this is absolutely divine...shoulda seen the way i dropped everything for this im literally #TWEAKING. new fav thing i've ever written methinks. title song. (vibes aren't there but the title was too good.) ps: if you spot any typos i wrote this with one hand. KIDDING...or am i? divider creds—cafekitsune. ◇: not outright smut, but still suggestive!! and nsfw is described. fluffy end bc i think she earned it, lore sprinkled in because why nawt it's interesting, finger sucking (e! receiving), this is maybe a lil ooc idrc, she's described as looking quite ill in her vampiric form + begs like her century long life depends on it fr, (but also has a bit of an attitude, it issss ellie after all), mean!r, talk of blood/previous bite wounds. ++ 3.3k wc. doesn't need to be that long but atp? take it or leave it LOLL. filing under "oneshots" bc it's way more than usual reqs hehe.

“Please, baby. Just one taste. I'll do anything.” Desperate, shaky pleas spilled from Ellie, her voice noticeably tired from the effort. She's been at this for what felt like forever now, and you were getting tired of ignoring her. Or rather, a little bored.

She was kneeling on the wooden floor by your bed, fisting the creased sheets, trying to capture your attention. The shimmering moonlight was dancing on her features as if it was a sparkle of fireflies, making her oddly colored eyes appear to glow, and highlighting her sickly appearance.

In her vampiric form, her skin was tinted a ghostly—even chalky—white, barely a smidgen of blush dancing on the apples of her cheeks. Her eyes shifted from their original grassy green to a peculiar duochrome blend of emerald and ruby. She really looked unwell, but you knew it was merely a product of circumstance, her gloomy fate.

Ellie donned somber dark circles around her eyes, her lips withered, pale, and thin as a piece of tissue paper. Just behind them though, rested two deadly weapons of her very own—sizeable, razor-sharp, gleaming ivory canines reflecting the scarce lighting as if they were made of mirrored glass.

For the first time tonight, you met her gaze, assuming an unbreakable poker face. Her keen sight could pick out the most subtle of twitches, so you learned to defeat that. The moment you met her line of sight she perked up, her eyes widening in glee, you had finally acknowledged her existence after so long.

Scooting forward you placed yourself right in front of her still kneeling form, sitting so she was in between your legs, but she wasn't allowed to touch you until you said so. What torture.

She began again, “Can I do something to make you change your mind? I'll do anything. Anything in the world. I'll make you feel re-really good, and then I won't ask again…ever even, if that's what you want. Just please let me…I'm so thirsty.” She was rambling a million miles a minute, slurring her words and cutting herself off with hiccups, stuttering like was having a nervous breakdown.

Her chest heaving up and down was visible to you despite the dim surroundings, and you could just make out her facial expression—a pained grimace, as if she was experiencing all of humanity's greatest suffering. When you didn't reply but stayed observing her blankly, she sighed and hung her head in shame, you almost felt bad. Almost.

You extend a hand, twirling a strand of her hair—previously silky and vibrant, now as lifeless and dull as charred hay—and you feel her relax under your touch. You continue raking your fingers through her locks, scratching her scalp with your nails, and you hear her exhale forcefully. She's likely overwhelmed by your scent—it's invigorating, fresh, and full of life.

“Have you been good?” You pipe up with a voice colder than ice, softly caressing the flesh of her tense cheek, and letting your fingertips travel to the underside of her chin. You gently tilt her head up, noticing the way her eyelids flutter to a close. She's soaking up the heat radiating off of you, making sure to feel the sensations of your skin brush against hers as much as she can, commit them to memory for when she's apart from you.

Her lips part, allowing for hushed, woeful whimpers to pour out, and she instinctively bites her bottom lip to quiet herself. Only she forgets about the powerful daggers in her mouth, and almost pierces right through her own skin.

Taking notice, you tut at her, warning clicks of your tongue bouncing off the room’s walls, contrasting the dead of night’s eerie silence. Tsk, tsk, tsk. You push the pad of your thumb down on the plush of her lip, angling her jaw side to side, examining those killer gnashers she's got.

“You could hurt yourself with these y'know, be careful.” Her eyelids flicker open, she's staring up at you with the biggest doe eyes she could muster, somehow all while maintaining such a strong glare you feel as if she's trying to challenge you.

“I'll decide if you can have some, as long as you're good, and you let me have some fun first. Alright?” You explain in a neutral tone, earning a cute “mhm” of confirmation from the undead being before you. “Good girl.”

You slowly slip your thumb into her mouth, avoiding her fangs at all costs, and you let her wrap her slippery tongue around your digit, watching how her cheeks hollow and her eyes roll ever so slightly while she sucks, moaning as she takes in your taste—nothing more than just skin.

You chuckle at her desperation, revel in the power dynamic you have created. “Mmm, you taste so good, so sweet.” She mumbles, swirling her tongue around your thumb, coating the entirety of it in her spit. You allow it for now, but soon enough, to no surprise, she slyly tries to shift to the side in preparation to slice you and get her treat.

You sharply retract your hands from her, removing your finger from her mouth with a pop, disappointed by her greed, her audacity. She turns to the side and pouts, huffing and rolling her eyes with more attitude than a moody teen. “What did I say?” You calmly hiss at her. She whispers, almost inaudibly, “Sorry…taste so good, can't help m’self.” Her voice wavered, and the moonlight illuminated the faintest tinge of red across her features, it was nearly invisible.

But you could tell exactly what was up. She shifts uncomfortably in her spot, grunting with laughable, pitiful attempts to rub her thighs together, fingers toying with the cloth of her pants, putting her frustration on full display. You looked at her struggle, unable to contain your grin.

It was a different kind of high, seeing such a feared and fabled beast kneel before you in such a pathetic manner, but it turned you on like nothing else. It was also evident she enjoyed it as well, no matter how much she didn't want you to be aware of the fact. The extent to which she worships you and handles your body, the way she was willing to beg and let you order her around showed just how much you meant to her—it was beautiful in its own way, how devoted she was to you. You were her person.

The fact she couldn't stifle her desire anymore after all this time suggested a shift in the atmosphere of your wicked games, the tension in the air was getting impossibly thicker, and you were loving every second of it.

Ellie, you've got a short memory.” You tease, then gesture to the gauze wrapped around your forearm, protecting two puncture wounds left by none other than her just the previous night. She looks at it and cocks an eyebrow, grouching, “Yeah, I see that, what about it?” The husky edge to her voice had returned, the defiant attitude you loved to crack was back in full force.

“Hundreds of years old, you even have memories of wars, and you can't remember what happened, like, 24 hours ago? Wow…” Your voice is so patronizing, it's unpleasant and abrasive on the ears, even your own. She shrugs her shoulders, still kneeling on the cold, hard ground at your mercy. “Well let's have a refresher then, shall we?” Tearing the tan-colored bandage apart with a single rip, you reveal the puncture marks—they were still wet and irritated, the wounds reopening immediately at the slightest movement.

Ellie whines like an animal, a crude “ahh”, and she starts pleading harder than ever. “Please, baby, my pretty, my angel, please, please, pleasepleaseplease, just lemme have a drop, just one. That's all, I swear.” Her gaze darkens exponentially, if you didn't know her it would instill fear in your heart, but luckily you were well aware of all her tricks. She snarls, “Fuck you. I'm literally on my fucking knees right now. Why are you doing this?” Her voice breaks angrily, wobbling with great lust and need—the need to have you, the need to drink you and fondle you and taste you in all senses of the word, and at this point she didn't seem to care about preserving a morsel of her dignity, she was simply so drunk on you, you couldn't believe.

You reiterate the previously established explanation, “We have an agreement that says you're allowed to take my blood once a month, so you can have some more each time. Rather than taking a little bit but more often, you requested this yourself. And you already drank lots yesterday. Does that not ring a bell?”

She groans, a gravelly, guttural sound that had you coming back to your senses and realizing, this was technically, a monster who you loved so dearly.

It led you to wonder—to her kind, what was so special about the liquid coursing through your veins?

When you split your lip open as a kid, clumsily tumbling face-first onto the asphalt, or bit your tongue while eating something stubborn, the strange, metallic taste was purely disgusting. It had a certain heaviness to it, both physically with the way it sat in your mouth, but also mentally. Like a subconscious awareness you were not meant to consume it like she does, but to spit it out the millisecond it made contact with your taste buds. There were times where the thought made you queasy, the measly knowledge of just how much of this fluid was inside you, keeping you alive.

But to her, it was a completely different story. She lapped it up with such fervor, such thirst you've never seen before. A sloppy frenzy like there wasn't a single thing more delightfully flavorful.

Her teeth penetrating all the way through your epidermis, dermis, and hypodermis, and straight through the vein wall was a feeling you're likely never going to get used to. It stung, it really did, and you were quick to get all woozy from the blood volume loss, but Ellie knew your limits—even though hers were not even close. Her thirst was insatiable.

The intimacy of the act was a whole separate topic to think about too. It was such an erotic experience, and when probed about it she argues it's better than sex, somehow. When she drinks from you, Ellie is really messy with it, you noticed. Blood dribbles down her chin and stains her lips as if it's a designer lip oil, the distinct deep maroon color sometimes appearing clownish and too intense against her fair complexion.

She was really handsy as well, and you weren't sure if it was purposeful, but you didn't care to ask because you didn't really mind in the first place. It felt nice. Her muscular hands tend to trace your waist as she's suckling, hovering by your ass, and traveling north to knead the supple tissue of your breasts.

And how could you forget about the sheer proximity of it all, even when having sex normally, it didn't feel nearly as intimate or vulnerable as this. Her body would be tightly curled around yours, she couldn't bear to have one meager square inch of her not touching you.

When she drank from your neck, it was bordering on heavenly, you had to be honest with yourself. There was something about the combination of the light headed, dizzying feeling it brought you, her closeness, the licking sensations, and the hungry sounds she produced that all together mixed to form nothing short of a mind blowing, intoxicating concoction.

When you both were feeling it, she'd be able to draw breathy moans to fall from your lips, and would giggle into your skin before sucking harder, leaving bruised marks surrounding the punctures. You read in some folklore that vampires carried a sort of aphrodisiac in their fangs, or was it their saliva? Again, you didn't really know all the details, but the sessions made you both yearn for each other in a way that felt taboo to discuss—midnight feedings often turning into animalistic fucking, sometimes even simultaneously.

Like having Ellie latched onto the side of your neck while she grinds her dripping pussy onto yours, her pleasureful mewls filling your ears, or having her hold your wrist to her mouth while her other hand is pleasuring you into oblivion, prodding against your spongy walls, making your head spin.

The time you spent lost in thought, she had broken the rule of not touching you unless you said so, but all she had done was rest her head on your knee, zoning out, sulking like an injured puppy. Unfortunately for her, you weren't done torturing her just yet. You didn't move her off of you, she was just laying there, grumbling curses under her breath, saying how mean you were, how much she despised you and everything you stood for, although both of you knew the truth—she had said herself, “I've never tasted blood like yours,” and you felt intrinsically bound to her on a subconscious level, these were mere amusements you indulged in, that ended up beneficial for both.

She got her delicious elixir of life, at the cost of you having your way with her for a bit. You hear her sniffle, the little defenseless sound of defeat was able to break your act.

You resume stroking her hair, and she wraps trembling arms around your thigh. “Hmm?” You coo, putting on a sweet facade. “Don't talk to me like that, c'mon man.” She wails, the attempts to regain control over her voice proving unsuccessful.

You took your nails to the newly formed raspberry scabs on top of your bite wounds and picked them off, and she lunges to grab your arm with inhuman reflexes, but once again you emerge on top, having spent so much time memorizing every last one of her behavioral patterns, so much so you knew exactly how she was going to attempt catching you and moved out the way without thinking about it.

“Too slow, you've gotten predictable.” You ridicule her, embellishing your voice with the most fake, sickly sweet tone you could just to irritate her as much as you possibly could. Ellie lays her head on your thigh, sighing. It's like she's given everything up. Her own patience was running out, potentially entering unpredictable territory now.

You squeeze the sides of the hole in your skin to coax a bubble of bright red blood to ooze out, marveling, “It's such a nice color, I see why you like it so much.” You talk to her coolly, ignoring her tearful, yet terrifyingly rage-filled glares, her massive fangs bared as if you were a prey animal she caught herself and was preparing to rip apart.

“Want a taste, Ellie? Have you earned it?” You think out loud, comically tapping your chin to exaggerate the brainstorming act. “Whatever, it's not like I have anything left to say to you.” She sounded heartbroken, you've never seen someone have such sorrow, the sheer misery behind her eyes actually caught you off guard.

"Okay I think you have earned it, just need you to say one more thing.” She nods, a little too quickly, rushing to catch any tears that were planning an escape route down the sides of her pretty face. You cradle her cheek, brushing your thumb against her skin, “Aw, baby, don't cry.” This time however, your tone is sincere.

She doesn't wait for your request, and starts all over again, this is getting old. “I promise everything. I'll make you feel so good, I'll give you whatever you want, please …you're too sweet.” She huffs, “Well, except when you're not.”

She continues mumbling, burying her face in the meat of your thigh, occasionally stopping to lovingly peck where she was laying, quiet smooching sounds. That really melted your heart, you were ready to give her what she needs after so much cruelty. This went on much longer than you had planned, but you were having fun with it. So you decided to abandon whatever you would ask of her. But could anyone blame you?

She slowly reaches for your wounded arm, gauging your reactions, like in the situation you were planning to do something to prevent her, but you come up with a better idea. “I'll do you one even better, Els.” The grin that envelops her face could light up a thousand suns, and melt the coldest of souls. Make vampire hunters quit their careers even, that's how adorable she could be, on the occasion.

You lean back to take your shirt off in one swift motion, and lay back on the edge of the bed, tilting your neck to give her access to the sweet pulsating spot, finding the droplet of drool that falls from her agape mouth utterly hilarious. “Go ahead, I've had my fun.” She hesitates. “But our agreement, I don't wanna hurt you.” “Ellie it's fine, unless you don't want t-” “No I do I do, oh thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you so muchhhh.”

Her gratitude is silly, she's straddling you and kissing all over your neck, face, and collarbones with such care, and you inhale sharply once you feel the familiar sensation of her teeth piercing your sensitive skin.

She has one hand on the nape of your neck, holding you close to her so you couldn't move away, and the other one finds your fingers to intertwine with hers, loud gulping noises filling the room as she messily laps up all that flows from you.

Her bony hips are sat atop your pelvis, and soon enough you feel her start absentmindedly rocking back and forth on you, your breath hitching. You hold her waist to ground yourself, and aid her. She's whispering, mostly to herself, “Fuck that's so fucking good, needed this so bad, need you, fuck- shit. Ah, yes.”

The vertiginous feeling swirls in your head and you feel yourself fading, your grip on her sides loosening, but you don't feel one single ounce of panic, because you know she's got you. No matter what, until the end of time. Or at the very least, until the final bells tolled and you were lowered to your eternal resting place six feet underground.

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evie-sturns · 8 months

Text

ᴠɪʀɢɪɴ - ᴄʜʀɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

summary: chris has always been your best friend until one night everything changes when you lose your virginity to him.

contains: smut, gentle chris, swearing, fluff.

———------------.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.-----------------——

chris and i tell eachother everything, i mean everything. we've been friends since the 6th grade and have no secrets, except for one. i'm a virgin. in my defence hes never really asked but its my biggest insecurity

its 11pm, me, nick, matt, chris and madi are sitting on the sturniolos couch, im cuddled against nick as matt and chris scroll on their phone.

madi is talking about a hookup experience right infront of us. ive never really hung out with her alone but she seems to overshare. a lot. "y/n, you know how when then finish they make strange ass noises?" she continues "mhm.." i lie, "but oh my god he was making demonic sounds like what the fuck" she says laughing.

after 5 more minutes of her talking, i feel humiliated, everyone else in the room except for me is laughing along with her and agreeing.

she wont stop.

i grab my phone then stand up off the couch, walking out of room in and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. i hear the living room go silent apart from a few whispers "chris go see whats wrong!" i hear nick say quietly and then shuffling, followed by 3 knocks on the bathroom door.

"y/n? you okay?" i hear chris say softly.

"please go away chris."

"im not gonna go away sweetheart, please talk to me." chris whispers through the door.

after a few minutes i unlock the door. chris opens it slowly to find me inside, eyes puffy from the few tears i shed. "oh y/n.." chris says sympathetically before pulling me into a hug, rubbing my back. "c'mon, lets go to my room so you can talk to me." he offers and i nod. he takes my hand as we open the door to his bedroom.

he sits down on the floor, resting his back against the side of his bed. i sit down next to him and lay my head on his shoulder.

i take a deep breath "im a virgin." i say bluntly, but quietly. he tenses slightly then nods understandably.

"and its fucking embarrasing when madis talking about fucking random dudes infront of me, its quite frankly humiliating." i continue "because im almost 21 and ive never done anything." i sigh.

an uncomfortable silence grows for a few seconds "this might be weird, and if you dont want to we can never talk about any of this again, but i could.." he pauses

"i could help..?" he says nervously

"help?" i repeat, slightly confused.

"i mean we've been best friends for like 9 years, i could y'know. teach ya? like platonically though." he says holding my hand.

another silence grows.

"okay!" i say nervously

"ok?" he whispers

"you can, lead the way?" i offer and he smiles.

he stands up, before leaning down and pulling me up by my wrists. we're both clearly nervous. "do i uh, have your like.. full consent?" he says concerned and i let out a small laugh "yes chris, you do, you're the person im most comfortable with."

he lifts his shirt off over his head, i blush, why am i blushing?

he throws his shirt to the floor before pulling mine off, revealing my white bra, which he quickly unclasps. he leans down and grabs my jaw, pulling me into a soft kiss. my heart rate increases as i realise this is chris, my best friend.

he picks me up by my ass and places me gently on my back on his mattress, the same one that we were giggling on yesterday. he pulls down my shorts, then my panties. leaving me revealed on the bed. he looms over me before pulling me by my thighs to the edge of the bed. he leans down between my thighs, his cold breath against my heat.

he drags his tongue all the way from my hole to my clit forcing a desperate moan out of me. "tastes so fucking good." he mumbles which causes me to squirm. he stands up and unbuckles his leather belt, letting it fall to the floor before he unbuttons his baggy jeans.

he stands in-between my legs in his boxers, it feels wrong, but so fucking right. "you ready baby?"

baby?

"im nervous chris, what if it hurts."

"dont be, it doesnt have to hurt, mhm?" he says reassuringly as he nods his head at me.

"i trust you chris.." i say smiling as he grabs the inside of my thigh "can you spread a little more?" he says and i comply.

after what feels like forever he pulls down his boxers slowly, letting his boner spring out, hitting his stomach. i instantly sit up in shock "chris-." i stutter as i look up at him

"you're okay, it wont hurt if you relax. ill go super slow hm?" he reasures and i nod.

"lay back down princess." he whispers.

i lay back down and reach for chris's hand, its always been a comfort thing for me and right now i need it more than ever.

his dick is strangely perfect.

i take a deep breath and squeeze chris's hand as his tip pushes against my entrance. he pushes slowly inside of me, giving me only an inch or two. "fuck you're so tight." he groans making my stomach flip. "you look so beautiful taking me mhm."

as he sinks deeper into me, his balls lightly pressing against my ass.

the same boy who i used to beg to play barbies with me is now balls deep inside of me.

im a moaning mess as chris giggles slightly

"what the fuck is funny chris" i say smiling

"your moans." he says nonchalantly as he starts to thrust, kissing my cervis each time

"shut up.." i say in between moans as i squeeze his hand tighter.

without warning he pulls out which causes me to immediately grab him and pull him closer "i didnt finish chris!" i say frustrated

"shh sh, i know i know, i want you to ride me. can you do that for me?" he says which almost makes me orgasm from his words.

"okay."

he lays down beside me and grabs my waist pulling me ontop of his so im sitting on his thighs. i prop myself up above his tip as he grabs my hips. i slowly sink down on him, feeling every inch of him filling me up. i moan loudly causing him to slam a hand over my mouth "shh." he whispers as i bounce up and down, i squeeze my eyes shut as my moans are muffled by his hand.

"y/n baby, im close okay? i want you to cum with me." he groans as i bounce faster on his cock

"you ready?" he says as his breathing becomes quicker. i nod as i clench around him, instantly making him release inside of me. i follow right after him as i collapse on his chest, he reaches a hand down pulling himself out of me.

he holds me tight against his chest, my breasts push against his hard chest while he grabs my ass. "you did so fucking good, so good." he whispers into my hair. "you want me to get you dressed baby?" he offers and i nod, sitting up on his stomach. he sits up and i slide off him onto his bed. as he stands up, he holds up my panties and shoves them in his pocket. before i have time to question it hes pulling me onto my feet.

he picks me up and slings me over his shoulder. i squeal as he keep a firm grip on my thigh. pulling my shorts onto me. he places me back down onto my feet and puts my bra on. "is this right" he says with a slight laugh "yeah surprisingly!!" i say with a wide grin before pulling my shirt on.

chris finishes getting dressed and plants another kiss on my lips "was that okay for you? i hope it didnt hurt" chris asks softly "yeah it felt.. really fucking good chris." i say wiping my eyes in embarrassment.

he grabs my hand and takes me into the living room. nick is looking at chris with disgust and everyones dead silent "did you guys just fuck." matt says breaking the silence and my heart drops to my stomach

"what.." i say defensivley

"the load ass moans?" nick yells angrily.

the silence grows as chris looks like hes seen a ghost as i look up at him

chris suddenly starts "she got her period, so i took her up to my room so she could grab some fucking.. products. she was crying, they may of sounded like moans to you but she was just upset." he lies so confidently straight through his teeth which almost makes me burst out laughing.

"so im taking her home alright?" chris continues.

"shit sorry guys." nick says embarrassed "see you tommorow y/n, feel better" matt says and i smile at him.

(4 weeks later)

"hey baby, i got you these!" chris says walking into my bedroom with flowers "for what exactly" i say laughing "one month anniversary dumb fuck." chris says giving me a kiss on my lips.

4 weeks ago when he dropped me off he confessed to me.

he said he'd liked me for a while now, as in 5 years.

i hated to admit it, but i had felt the same.———------------.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.-----------------——

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader

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dira333 · 5 months

Text

Latte me be your lover - Iwaizumi x reader

requested by @ur-local-simp - tagging @shoulmate for reasons

Haikyuu taglist: @lees-chaotic-brain

"A hot coffee for a hot guy."

You roll your eyes. Hajime just thanks the barista and steps to the side to let you through.

The very second he turns away the smile drops from her lips and she scowls at you. But you've been anticipating it, your own smile saccharine sweet.

It's like this wherever you go. They hit on Hajime until they realize he's not coming alone. Some of them are embarrassed at your sight, others... not so much. And it's not like you're his girlfriend by any means - well, except the means of where you dream about it every night - but they don't know that, right?!?

"Are you going to call them?" You ask as soon as some caffeine has entered your bloodstream.

"Who?" Hajime grabs your hand and pulls you back, narrowly saving you from stepping into dogshit. Ugh.

"The barista. She wrote her number on your cup."

"She did?" He furrows his brows as he inspects the little paper thing that's wrapped around his cup to keep him burning his hands.

The amount of smugness you feel when he slips it off and uses it to pick up the dogshit and throw it away is insane. If only you could go back and tell her. Also, your crush is seriously environmentally motivated. Go, Hajime!

"One Latte Machiatto with extra Caramel drizzle," Hajime tells you before turning back to the girl ordering. "Anything else?"

"Your number?" She purrs, completely disregarding the line forming behind her.

"What number?" Hajime asks, stiff as a board. From where you're standing you can tell how tense his shoulders are. Bless him.

"Your phone number, duh," she laughs and you have to admit, she's really pretty. Her teeth are a little too white for your taste, though, but you know she'd be Oikawa's type. If only she'd come in yesterday when you had to endure his whining for a whole shift. It's not your fault he cannot get a girl.

"Sorry," you slip up to him, press into his side like a cat. Breathe, you scream at him in your thoughts, but your smile is sweet as you hand her her drink. "He's taken."

"Are you sure?" Terushima asks.

"Absolutely," you tell him, willing Hajime to work a little faster.

"You didn't even give me a chance." Terushima's not above begging to get a date, it seems. "I got a tongue piercing, you know." He sticks out his tongue but all you can hear is the splish-splash-clatter of someone dropping a drink. When you turn, Hajime's already on his knees, red-faced, wiping up the remnants of what was supposed to be Terushima's coffee order.

Terushima grins knowingly back at you. "So, since I have to wait a little longer..."

"No," you tell him, stone-faced, "Never."

"Come on!" He whines. "Like, one date?" His eyes flicker to where Hajime's disappearing in the back. "We could make him jealous."

Heat errupts in your cheeks. You knew you'd been pretty obvious in your advances, but this takes the cake.

"Don't ever ask me again," you tell him through your clenched teeth, seconds away from stabbing him with a fork. "You get me?"

He laughs, carefree and easy as if this doesn't matter to him at all.

"All good, all good. Say, do you have the number of your coworker? The cute one with the blond hair?"

You harrumph. "Give me yours," you insist, "I'm not giving out Yachi's number to strangers."

"I'm not a stranger," he defends himself, "We've been in a class for more than a year. But here," he makes a whole show of it, scribbling his number on a napkin and handing it to you, "My number. Take care of it."

You snort and tuck it into your pocket, only realizing Hajime's back when he clears his throat awkwardly behind you.

Hajime's been distant for the past week.

It's not unusual not to hear much from him for a few days, especially during exam season. You don't think much of it at first, because even though you've been crushing on him for the better part of your three-year friendship, you both still have a life outside of each other and the hell-hole you call work.

But then you're suddenly working your Monday shift with Makki instead of him. You've never worked Mondays without him. It's the worst day to work except maybe the weekend and he had to pinky promise to never let you down when the boss asked who'd cover it - you got free weekends but still, are pinky promises nothing worth anymore?

"Where's Hajime?" You ask Makki. The guy only shrugs. But he's been Hajime's friend longer than he's been yours so you don't think he'd tell you even if he knew.

On Wednesday you work with Mattsun. And boy, does he know what's going on. You can read it in the tilt of his eyebrows, the curve of his mouth.

"Spill," you tell him, "Or I'll never give out your number to cute girls again."

"I have a girlfriend," he replies lazily. You narrow your eyes at him.

"And apparently so do you," he continues, "Or rather, a boyfriend."

You furrow your brows. "Since when?"

"I don't know..." He doesn't seem to take this seriously at all. "I'm just telling you what Iwaizumi told me."

"Hajime told you I have a boyfriend."

"Mhm," he smiles brightly. "And then he asked to switch shifts with me."

Hajime has the decency to look guilty. He's ducking his head and it's probably only his manners that keep him from shutting the door on you.

"Why did you tell Mattsun I have a boyfriend."

He grimaces, but his mouth stays closed.

"Hajime," you insist, voice low, "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Maybe not yet," he argues, "But Terushima..."

"That's what this is about?" You ask, "Terushima asking me out? He's done that for months and I've never shown any interest. What makes you think I would change my mind?"

"You took his number," he tells you, eyes flickering around, lips pushed forward in something like a pout. "And he's got a piercing-"

"Hajime," you say, more than just exasperated, "Girls flirt with you every time you step out of your room. If I cut contact with you every time we wouldn't be friends anymore, would we?"

He flinches a little, but he's too stubborn to give in. Yet.

"No one's flirting with me," He insists, now an angry line between his brows, "You're imagining-"

"I've been flirting with you for the past two years," you add. If you're going down, you're at least going down with everything you've got.

Hajime freezes. His eyes are wide and his hand tries to grab the door but misses.

"You- what?!"

"What do you think writing my first name with your last name means? Or writing your name on my skin pretending it's a tattoo? Or cuddling into you during movie nights?"

"You run cold!" He defends himself, "A-and... And you said my name was pretty!"

"YES!" You huff, "Because I'm in love with you!"

Hajime's mouth opens and closes without any sound coming out. Your heart is hammering painfully against your chest. One more second, you tell yourself, one more second you'll give him before you finally give up.

His hand shoots out, grabs yours, and pulls you inside before you've fully finished that thought.

"Really?" He asks, a shy smile spreading over his face. "Really really?"

"Really really really," you promise, offering him your pinky. "I swear."

"Wow, you've got bad taste," you tell Atsumu when he's finished his order. He balks at you, but you snicker and his twin joins your teasing.

"I'll never come to visit you at your job again," he threatens and you shrug. "Sucks to be you, I guess."

"Come on, don't be like that," Atsumu wouldn't be Atsumu if he didn't try and wheedle his way into your favorites again. His eyes flicker to the side and he grins. "Can I at least get your number?"

Hajime's chest slams into your back. You can feel his anger without turning to look.

"She's taken," your boyfriend huffs behind you. "Don't be disrespectful!"

my Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi hajime #seijoh 4

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citysuk · 2 months

Text

guilt and shame | remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

summary: you confessed your love for remus, but he rejects you because he doesn't think he's good enough. james has to talk him out of it.

words: 2,5k

notes: omfg !!! this is my first fic ever and I'm super excited to share it, english isn't my first language so please bare with me. if you like this history you can support sharing it. i hope you enjoy it !!

warnings: angst !!!!!!! so much angsty, insecure and overthinker boy remus, james being a little noisy and trying to get some sense on him but being a little ass. no use y/n but no oc neither. no proofread.

part 2 | innocence of love

Remus sits down at the table. He's almost alone, being so early that all the students are still in bed, he barely pays any attention to the few people around him as he pours himself a cup of strong black coffee. He takes a big gulp, relishing in the bitter taste, hoping it will jolt his system awake. As he sipped his coffee, Remus can't help but scan the Great Hall, searching for a familiar face. But you are nowhere to be seen, and the sight makes his chest ache. He forces himself to look away, trying to focus on his breakfast, but his mind keeps drifting back to you.

James joins him, looking as chipper as ever. He plops down next to Remus, immediately noticing his friend's exhausted state. "Morning, mate," he greets cheerfully. "Rough night, Remus? You look like a Lethifold sucked out your soul."

Remus barely suppresses an irritated sigh at James's overly cheerful greeting. He turns to look at him, his expression flat. "Yeah, something like that," he mutters, before taking another gulp of coffee. "Didn't sleep, if you must know."

James's smile falters a little at the sight of Remus's grumpy demeanor. He eyes the dark bags under his eyes and the lines of fatigue on his face. He leans in a bit, his voice low. "Mate, what's up? For real. You look awful."

Remus resists the urge to roll his eyes at James's prodding. He sighs wearily, setting down his coffee cup. "I couldn't sleep, alright?" he admits grudgingly. "I was...I was thinking about something. Someone."

James arches an eyebrow, intrigued. "Someone, huh? Care to give the name? Or are you going to leave me in suspense?"

Remus hesitates, torn between sharing his thoughts and keeping them to himself. He lets out a sigh, his resolve crumbling under James's persistent gaze. He says your name quietly, it leaving a bitter-sweet taste in his mouth.

James's eyes widen at the mention of your name, surprise mixed with curiosity on his face. Then a sly smile forms on his lips. "So...what kind of thoughts were you having about her that kept you up all night?"

Remus averts his gaze, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks. He picks at his food, not really eating. "It's... complicated," he mutters, avoiding eye contact. "We... We talked a few days ago. There were some things... some things confessed that have left me feeling... conflicted. Confused."

James nods, sobering instantly at the seriousness of Remus's tone. He frowns, concern etching his features. "Confesses, eh?" he echoes, a hint of confusion in his voice. "Wait, what do you mean? What did she confess?"

Remus's fingers dig into the table, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. He looks up at his friends, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and vulnerability. "It's..." he starts, then swallows hard. "She... she told me that she likes me. More than as a friend."

James's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and for a moment, it looks like he's at a loss for words. He glances at Sirius, who has a similar look of surprise on his face. "She.... she told you she likes you? Like... romantically?"

Remus nods, the action almost a wince. He looks miserable, the guilt of his internal struggle clearly visible on his face. "Yes," he says quietly. "Romantically. And... And I didn't respond well."

James's surprise melts into confusion, and then annoyance. "How do you mean, you 'didn't respond well'?" he asks, his tone taking on a hint of accusation. "What, did you reject her or something?"

Remus flinches at James's sharp tone, feeling the weight of the situation even more acutely. He takes another deep breath, his eyes avoiding anyone's gaze. "I… I did reject her, in a way," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I told her it's not a good idea. That we're better off as friends."

James stares at him in disbelief, shaking his head incredulously. "What in the name of Merlin's beard, Remus?" he exclaims, his voice raising in volume. "Are you mental? She likes you. You like her. So why the hell would you reject her?"

Remus glares back at James, his own frustration and guilt bubbling to the surface. He grips the edge of the table. "Because it's not that easy, James!" he retorts, trying to keep his voice down. "There is...there are so many factors at play here that I can't just... just act on my feelings without considering them!"

James throws his hands up, his patience clearly wearing thin. "What bloody factors, Remus? I don't understand what your issue is here. She likes you, you like her, end of story. What else is there to consider?"

Remus lets out a frustrated huff, his hands clenching into fists. The anger in his voice is evident, but he's trying to be quiet since they're in a public space. "You don't get it, James! It's... It's not that simple! There's... there's my condition. I'm a bloody werewolf! Do you know what that means for her!? There are things you and Peter and Sirius could never understand!"

James scoffs, his eyes narrow. His jaw set. "So what, you think she's just going to run screaming if she knew the truth?" he shoots back. "You think she'd be incapable of handling the fact that you're a werewolf? You think she'd think less of you, just because you turn furry every month?"

Remus is shaking now, his frustration and pain obvious in his every word. "Yes, James! Yes, that's exactly what I think! How could anyone, especially someone like her, accept that? Accept all the danger and the... and the stigma that comes with it? I can't put her through that! I won't!"

James is clearly struggling to maintain his cool, his usually cheerful face twisted in anger and disbelief. "You really think so little of her, don't you?" he accuses. "You think she's so shallow, so narrow-minded, that she'd just walk away, the moment she finds out the truth? Or maybe, just maybe, do you actually have so little confidence in yourself that you think no one could possibly love and accept you in spite of your condition?"

Remus flinches at James's sharp words, the accusations hitting a little too close to home. He looks away, shame and anger battling for dominance on his face. "It's not about me, James!" he retorts, his voice cracking. "It's about her! I can't... I can't put her in danger. I can't risk hurting her. It's not worth the risk!"

James huffs out a scoff, slamming his palms against the table, his eyes ablaze. "You're making excuses, Remus. You're terrified. You're letting your fear control you, your guilt consume you, and it's making you blind to the fact that maybe, just maybe, she's strong enough, kind enough, brave enough, to accept you, flaws and all!"

Remus stands abruptly, his own anger and frustration are barely contained now, his eyes burning with a mixture of shame and defiance. "You don't get to lecture me on this, James!" he nearly bellows, attracting the attention of some nearby students. "You have no idea what it's like to live my life, to face the dangers I face! To bear the guilt, the shame, the pain! You can't possibly understand!"

James doesn't back down, his own emotions running just as high. He points a finger at Remus, his voice as firm as his stance. "Maybe I don't understand the specifics of your situation," he says, his gaze never faltering. "But I understand fear, Remus. I understand guilt. I understand pain. Those are universal. You don't get a bloody monopoly on them just because you're a werewolf."

Remus lets out a derisive snort, his jaw clenched. He's trying to push down the wave of emotions threatening to burst forth. "Oh really? You understand guilt, yeah? You understand guilt like mine? The guilt of knowing that you could hurt, could kill, someone you care about? The guilt of knowing that you're a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode and destroy everything around you? That kind of guilt?"

James doesn't have a ready answer for that. He looks like Remus's words have struck a chord. "Maybe I don't," he admits, his voice slightly hoarse. "But I do know what it's like to push people away because I think they're better off without me. I do know what it is to self-sabotage because I don't think I deserve love and happiness. And you're doing the same damn thing."

Remus falters for a moment, the raw honesty in James's words taking the edge off his own anger. He knows what his friend is saying hits a little too close to home. But he shakes it off, determination hardening his features. "I... I'm doing it to protect her, James! Can't you see that? It's for her own good!"

James shakes his head, his eyes hard yet filled with a pleading look. "You're protecting her from what, Remus? From a relationship? From happiness? You're making that decision for her, depriving her of a choice. Don't you think that's a bit hypocritical, considering how much you value your own autonomy?"

Remus feels a pang of guilt at James's words. The truth in them is undeniable, and he struggles to find a comeback, a defense against his friend's well-aimed arguments. "I... I'm just trying to do what's right..." he mutters weakly, his voice lacking conviction.

James huffs out a sigh, his anger now tempered by a hint of resignation. He steps towards Remus, his voice going softer. "You know what's right, Remus? What's right is that you stop making decisions for her and let her decide what she wants for herself. She confessed to you. She clearly wants a relationship. Stop pushing her away because you think you know what's best for her. That's not your call to make."

Remus is silent, the weight of James's words slowly sinking in. He knows his friend is right. He's not being fair to her, no matter how just he thinks his reasons are. But the fear, the guilt, the shame, they all hold him back. "I... I don't know if I can, James," he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know if I can let her in that close. I'm scared, okay? I'm terrified of what could happen."

*James's face softens further, a hint of understanding in his eyes.*

"I get it, mate," he says, his voice gentle. "I really do. But you've got to let go of that fear. She's not a fragile little thing, in case you haven't noticed. She's strong, she's kind, and she clearly cares about you. Give her a chance, Remus. Let her decide if she's okay with the risk. Let her decide if she wants the challenge."

Remus takes a deep breath, his heart hammering in his chest. He struggles with the internal war within him, the fears and hopes battling it out. "It's not just her," he says quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "It's me, too. I... I don't know if I can trust myself. If I can trust the wolf. I'm terrified of what could happen when the full moon comes."

James reaches out, resting a hand on Remus's shoulder, his touch an anchor in the chaos. "But you can trust yourself," he insists, his voice filled with conviction. "You've managed this for years, Remus. You've controlled the wolf. Yes, it's a beast, but you have a leash on it, you can control it. And you won't be alone. We'll all be there for you, just like we always have been."

Remus stares at James, the words striking a chord in him. He looks at his friends, at Sirius and Peter who silently watched the two of them. He realizes that they are all willing to stand by his side, regardless of his condition. The realization brings a lump to his throat. "You... You'd still be willing to stand by me? Even if it puts you at risk? Even if it puts her at risk?"

James smiles, a reassuring, confident smile. He squeezes Remus's shoulder. "Of course, we would, mate. We're Marauders, remember? We're brothers. We stick together, through thick and thin. And if that means dealing with a furry little problem once a month, then we'll figure it out. We always do."

Remus can't help but let out a wry, humorless chuckle, the weight of his fears and doubts lifting a little, but still present. "Furry little problem, eh? You make it sound like we're dealing with a misbehaving Kneazle rather than a bloodthirsty monster."

James grins, his usual mischief twinkling in his eyes. "Mate, have I ever failed to turn a problem into a joke? Besides, I doubt that wolf of yours could top our prank-making abilities. We could write a manual: 'Wolf Handling for Dummies' - by the Marauders."

Remus lets out a snort, despite himself, the image of a guidebook with that title making him crack a small smile. "Yeah, right. I'm sure it'd be a bestseller. I can picture it now: 'Five Tips to Keep the Wolf from Your Door.' I'm sure Pomfrey would purchase a dozen copies."

James chuckles, a sly grin on his face. "Nah, Pomfrey already has a signed copy. She keeps it under her pillow for light reading before bed." Sirius and even Peter can't help but laugh at James's quip, the tension in the air slowly easing off.

Remus even manages a dry chuckle. Despite himself, he feels some of the weight of his worries lifting a little. Looking at his friends, standing there, teasing him with lighthearted jibes and encouraging grins, he realizes how lucky he is to have them by his side, no matter what.

"You lot will be the death of me," he mutters with a shake of his head, the corners of his lips tugging upwards.

James grins wider, giving Remus a playful punch on the arm. "Death by mischief, mate. There are worse ways to go, I reckon."

Sirius walks over, a mischievous smirk on his face. "Yeah, and we'll make sure your tombstone says something suitably epic. 'Here lies Moony. Died of a severe case of hilarity.'"

Remus rolls his eyes, the last of his resistance crumbling away in the face of his friends' unfaltering loyalty and humor. "Great, just what I always wanted. A tombstone that turns my death into a punchline. You lot are a nightmare, you know that?"

Peter grins, finally joining in the banter. "Oh, come on, Moony. You know you love the attention." James throws an arm around Remus, pulling him into a half-hug, half-headlock. "Face it, mate. We're the best thing to happen to your dreary life."

Remus tries (and fails) to look annoyed, a small smile betraying him. He half-heartedly attempts to shake James off, but the effort is half-hearted at best.

"You lot are a bunch of lunatics, that's what you are. And for some reason, I wouldn't have it any other way."

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #marauders x reader #marauders #marauders era #james potter x reader #james potter #sirius black x reader #harry potter #harry potter x reader #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fluff

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formosusiniquis · 5 months

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for @thefreakandthehair and inspired by this. Everyone enjoy some bee keeper!Eddie saving the day so Steve can play some baseball

Eddie picked up beekeeping the way he picked up most things in his life: accidentally and by virtue of following a crumb of serotonin straight down the rabbit hole of obsession. It isn't what he expected to do for a living, and at this point he does have to admit that when it accounted for 91% of his taxable income last year it is what he does for a living, but he likes that he gets to work outside and set his own hours. He likes that the regular customers he has who buy his honey are nice, and likes getting to advise people about things like flavor profiles and what they taste best with, it was the thing he liked best about his position at the dispensary that was now more of a side gig. And then there's his contract with city animal control that gets him called out to parts of the city he didn't even know existed to relocate hives a lot more often than he thought would happen.

It's a good life, and he likes that he's made it himself.

But it's the kind of life that gets him calls from people late at night when trying to finish binging Fallout before the internet can spoil it for him. He has a rule to always answer when Chrissy calls though, he isn't going to miss helping her if it's an emergency.

“I need a favor,” she says before he's even finished answering.

“Anything for you,” he agrees.

“You might regret saying that.”

Chrissy Cunningham turned a full ride scholarship for cheerleading into a business and marketing degree and she turned that into a fancy job with the White Sox that he didn’t fully understand but totally supported. He wore the free cap she gave him, and was endlessly glad that as a white guy he didn’t get gatekept the way girls like Chrissy did, since he couldn’t name a single player on the team.

And it was that endless support that had him in his full gear at the White Sox stadium with his smoker and bee vac.

Chrissy meets him at the front with a harried expression and a warm hug, “I’d say I owe you one but if everything goes right we’ll be totally square before the first inning.”

“What does that mean?” he asks, repeating it louder when all she gives him is an enigmatic smile.

The only answer he truly gets is being shoved into a little green cart that she drives with a frightening speed. She drives them through the stadium through a route he has no hope of remembering on his own until they reach an opening that leads straight out to the field. Eddie always had a dream, as a kid, of being a rockstar, driving out onto the diamond to a sudden and uproarious cheer is the closest he thinks he’s ever come to truly experiencing what it would be like to be famous on stage.

He hams it up of course. Waves his arms to try to get them to cheer louder as Chrissy stears them toward the lifter that he’s going to have to go up to get to the swarm. And they do, the cheers becoming an enthusiastic roar, a sound so loud he thinks he could climb them up to the bees without the lifter.

“Focus will you, you’re on national television right now.” Chrissy says, with a subtle elbow to his side.

“Yeah but how many people are watching a delayed baseball game?”

Never one to just take his smartass comments, he’s sure that Chrissy says something super witty and sarcastic back. Only Eddie made the mistake of turning his head and catching sight of the most glorious ass in the snuggest pair of pinstriped white baseball pants and lost the ability to hear. A second elbow in his side reminds his brain full of metaphorical bees that he’s on television and he doesn’t have his veil on, he isn’t about to get caught drooling on television.

The fattest ass in the stadium turns around and Eddie thinks he’s been stung. He has to be going into anaphylaxis with the way he suddenly can’t catch his breath. The guy in front of him, with a hand on his hip and his eyes trained unwaveringly on Eddie is tongue-swellingly hot. And he just keeps getting closer as Chrissy doesn’t stop driving forward.

“Steve, you’re not supposed to get this close, you're our starting pitcher you can’t get stung.” Chrissy chides.

“I just wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to kill the bees.” The guy, Steve, says.

“He’s not.”

“I’m not,” Eddie says, shaking his head as fast as he can, like that will make things more convincing for the hot baseball guy. But he’s got an eyebrow raised giving Eddie an up and down like he still doesn’t believe him.

“Look,” he pulls out his equipment so Steve can see. “I’ll smoke them with this, that’ll make them calm so they don’t freak out when I vacuum them up with this.”

“And running them through a vacuum isn’t going to kill them?”

“It’s a gentle suck,” he says, immediately filled with a burning mortification. “It’s just enough to move them into the tank where I can relocate them.”

Hot baseball Steve has his big brown eyes open even wider, there’s a twitch at his mouth like he’s about to say something else and Eddie actually can’t have that. “Chris can we get me strapped into this thing, we want to get this big ballgame going right?”

Steve takes a couple steps back, hands raised up in a placating gesture. Whether it’s for him or for Chrissy because he didn’t listen, Eddie’s too busy putting a neon yellow safety buckle on to think about it.

He takes his time, this is basically free marketing so he’s not about to rush through or do a half-assed job. But in just a few minutes he has a vac full of bees and the game is ready to be played. The lifter gently lowers Eddie back to the ground with another round of cheers. He unclips from the safety harness and takes a shallow bow for the crowd.

Then Steve is jogging over, Eddie stands up straighter than he ever has in his life. Nervous for what is about to happen.

“You saved the game, man!” Steve has the nicest smile that Eddie has ever seen, wide and toothy. He is but a man and thus falls a little bit in love immediately.

“It was nothing, really, just part of the job, y’know.”

“Well, here’s something you probably haven’t done on the job. You have to throw the first pitch.”

“No, no, I absolutely will not be doing that.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, a mischief lights up in Steve’s eyes. He jerks his chin up at Chrissy who says something Eddie is too far away to hear into a walkie talkie. He thinks he has a guess though when the loudspeaker begins to drawl, “Laaadies and Gentlemen, our game is about to begin. Tonight’s first pitch will be thrown by our bee rescuer, Eddie Munson!”

The crowd begins to scream again, but the sound is almost like the hive's steady drone when Steve leans close enough to whisper, “It’s just ceremonial, all you’ve got to do is throw it. I’ll even play catcher for you.” And Eddie’s helpless to do anything but nod.

There’s actually a lot that has to happen before they’re ready for him to throw his sad attempt at a pitch. But that gives him the time to settle his equipment out of the way and scream at Chrissy. Still it’s sooner than he’d like before she’s shuffling him over to a big mound of dirt in the center of everything. She pushes his hat and veil back and it feels a little proud father of the bride right until she pats him on the top of his head and whispers, “Don’t fuck it up, nerd.”

His palms are sweaty, they feel too slick to get a good grip on the small, white ball. He thinks he might throw up, only across from him Steve is there. A glove on one hand he sends Eddie an encouraging little finger wave with the other.

He can do this.

He takes a deep breath and throws.

It’s awful. Too high and a little off center, but Steve snags it in that large, ungloved palm and the crowd cheers again like he’s done something fantastic. He’s starting to think they’re just happy to be here.

He starts to walk off the field, toward Chrissy where he knows he’s safe. But he can’t help noticing that Steve is jogging his way too; the ball that Eddie just threw in one hand, a sharpie in the other, his glove tucked tight under his arm. “Eddie, hey, you gotta take this with you, dude.”

Steve lobs it at him in a soft underhand, and Eddie still fumbles the catch, “Thanks, man, but really, I don’t-” the rest of his response dies in his mouth when he realizes just what Steve has scribbled across the ball.

“Give me a call if you’re interested,” Steve says, walking backward toward the mound Eddie just left, “I can show you my gentle suck.” He laughs at his own shitty pickup line, which is somehow more attractive than his whole hot jock thing.

Eddie thinks he must be blushing up to his hairline by the time he makes it back to Chrissy and his things. She looks too smug for it to be any other way. “Told you we’d be even before the end of the night.”

“Chris, if this goes well I might owe you a favor. Now we gotta go, I’ve got bees to relocate.”

#steddie #steddie fic #my fic #baseball player steve harrington #beekeeper eddie munson #platonic hellcheer #i know just enough about baseball to enjoy the occasional game lex so sorry for any egregious inaccuracies #about half of the writing time was me trying to figure out how bees are relocated

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sc0tters · 3 months

Text

Betting On Brats | Nico Hischier

summary: when you decide to give Nico a taste of his own medicine it seems you two can only go so far.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v (unprotected), swearing, oral (fem receiving!), slight degradation, porn with post plot?

word count: 4.37k

authors note: I really don’t know when it was that I last released something so let’s not ask @heavenlyhischier how long this idea has been swirling around… but long story short Abby posted something with Nico in his car and I was like the car sex request was music to my ears. I actually love elements of this so I’m hoping it gets picked up by y’all too. Here’s to us getting more updates soon!

You were playing with fire.

From the moment you stepped into the venue, the smirk on your face should have given it away that you were ready to ruffle some feathers. Except it all started and ended with your fiancé and how he didn’t seem to care for the fact that you disliked your neighbour.

Mackenzie could have been the nicest person in the world, but that didn’t matter to you whilst she felt the need to flirt with Nico.

You swore things were going to be different when you came home with the giant rock on your hand. Yet your hopefulness quickly ran out when you saw her talking with him.

It was any old Monday as when you came back from Pilates, ready to tell Nico all about your day and how the Slovakian lady who owned a bakery left you with more baked goods for him to try “thanks for helping.” The voice made you freeze.

Mackenzie’s voice was like chalk against a board as she twirled her hair through her fingers “yeah our sink had that problem last week.” Nico nodded along as he clutched to the tool bag you got him months back.

You froze seeing Mackenzie in her pj shorts and a little vest. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she practically flashed her tits in his face “Hischier I’m going to shower if you want to join.” Your words came in a grumble as you shoved your shoulder into his.

It threw both of them off “we were in the middle of a conversation.” Mackenzie shot back as you scoffed.

Usually the sight of you all sweaty in your leggings and tight tops was enough to make Nico weak in the knees “I’ll be back in a sec okay schatzi?” He squeezed your hand but still that made you just roll your eyes as you pulled your hand back and left to the apartment.

That was four days ago and your comments to him have been with minimal contact. Nico noticed of course but he didn’t have the time to call you out on it with the start of the season quickly approaching.

It was what brought you both to today, the welcoming dinner for the returning and new players alongside their partners and it was your third season planning the event “schatzi please can we act-” Nico began as he went to squeeze your hand “Timo!” Your cheer cut him off as you saw the older boy smile at you.

Throughout your relationship with Nico you had gotten the chance to get close to Timo, and after convincing him to teach you Swiss phrases to then say back to Nico who of course was in awe of the gesture. After that you quickly found the boy turning into your friend as he now saw you like his American sister “you two still at it?” Timo smirked as he pulled you into a side hug.

Your sigh seemed to tell him all that he needed to know as he cracked a grin “knew you were wearing this for a reason.” It was a red sundress that Nico adored on you with the little slit that sat midway up your thigh that you paired with a white pair of heels.

Each time you wore it Nico seemed to end up pulling you into a room before the end of the night. So having it in place where he wasn’t allowed to touch you, was bound to be torture “it’s all just for a little bit of fun.” You smirked as you shrugged doing your best to ignore how Nico’s eyes glared at sight.

Timo simply nodded “is it still that Mackenzie girl?” The name made you scowl “if Nico could realise that she’s flirting with him then all of this could be avoided!” You wanted to pull your hair out at the idea of his constant disagreement of Mackenzie trying to do any bad in this world.

It made the older boy feel sorry for you “look maybe I can help you.” His offer was quick to make you raise your eyebrows in anticipation “since you want to get him jealous, why not stand with me.” The idea was perfect.

You were in your dangerous dress, Timo and you actually had a lot to talk about with the need to catch up, and if all went well Nico would get a taste of his own medicine. It almost made you mad that it wasn’t you who came up with it as you nodded “I owe you.” You added shaking his hand, leaving Nico confused at what was causing the smirks on your faces.

The questions only seemed to grow as Nico offered you the seat next to him - your normal seat - but instead you opted for the one across from the captain, right next to Timo “schatzi?” Nico did little to hide his confusion as sure he knew you were mad but he didn’t think that you were going to be that mad.

Instead you just offered him a smile “figured you’d want to see with Jacky boy no?” Your hand pointed to the boy who took your normal seat “yeah cap she got you all summer.” Jack matched your tone as he sent you a toothy grin paired with a wink.

Throughout that dinner Nico swore he was going to kill Timo and honestly Jack too. It seemed the American only loved to start talking when you were whispering things into Timo’s ear. All of the things had to do with random questions but the way it made Nico’s eyes burn into your soul left you feeling more alive than ever.

Nico was close to breaking his glass as he watched Timo help you push your hair out of your face as the freshly curled locks weren’t paired with a hair tie tonight “you’re so good t’me Timo.” You cooed sending him a smile as you sipped at your drink “Nico you good dude?” John was sat on the other side of the boy and felt how his body tensed.

It took the American a snap of his fingers to break Nicos gaze “yeah I’m fine.” Through gritted teeth you figured you had done enough for now to make him jealous “yeah baby you’re not looking too hot.” You turned your attention back to your boyfriend and that seemed to be the longest sentence you had give him in days.

Nico grew surprised but when your heel began to rub up the inside of his leg “schatzi I am good.” His voice came with a warning and a cough not sure how much more of your teasing he could truly handle from you.

You instead just smiled as you nodded dropping your foot to go back to your dinner letting the night go by quietly. Still you never gave Nico the satisfaction of standing in a conversation alone with him as Timo seemed to be attached to your hip, making the captain more irritated by the second “look dude I don’t know what you did-” Johns words practically dug his grave for him “what makes you think I did it?” Nicos head snapped in the curly haired boys direction as his eyes sharpened.

John felt his mouth go dry “well she’s kind of spent more time with Timo than she has with you.”John was scared his comment would get him into trouble as his body shrunk in front of the boy.

Nico went to respond but when your hand raked over Timo’s shoulder it practically cut him off “I’m going to kill him.” His voice was rough as his hands clenched making his knuckles grow white “hey now we cannot have the start of the season be tied to our captain being a murderer.” John stopped the captain from moving.

The Swiss man knew he was right but somehow that didn’t make him feel any better “she is just doing this all to piss you off.” It was the truth. You were desperate for Nico to feel how you felt about Mackenzie and you had done only an ounce of what she did.

When you touched Timo’s shoulder it had been to flick a leaf from it. Whilst you wanted Nico to feel your pain, not even your own stubbornness would bring you to inflict those emotions on him. You also wouldn’t think to do that with Timo, yet still you were too proud to let Nico see how you constantly watching him as you hoped that he would care enough to be a little jealous.

Your wishes quickly came to fruition when Jack finally ran out of things to say to Nico and Luke’s whines of boredom got too much for the middle Hughes boy. As the Hughes boys were no longer in eyesight, Nico turned his attention to where you and Timo stood giggling as you sipped your wine.

He didn’t hesitate as he made a beeline for you both, not uttering a word as he swooped down to grab you by your knees so he could throw you over his shoulder “have a good night you two.” Timo couldn’t help but laugh knowing the that your salute and his captains not so subtle middle finger basically said the same thing as one another, the end goal of the night was reached.

Nico didn’t let you go until he got to the door of the restaurant “I wasn’t ready to go.” Your voice was a mumble that made him scoff as he continued to walk now with his hand gripping yours “when you are acting like a fucking slut flirting with my friends, I think you’re ready to go.” Nico shot back not bothering to look back at you as your lips pursed together feeling the pain form in your wrist.

His comment seemed to trigger something within you as you scoffed “maybe it’s a shame that she wasn’t here because then you wouldn’t give a damn what I did.” Your comment struck him in a way that most words wouldn’t. All of this came down to jealousy and as he shut your door it seemed that part of it could have fizzled down to the fact that you didn’t feel heard.

Nico thought that leaving the environment would have been enough but your silence only reminded him more of his much you seemed to enjoy talking to Timo “cat got your tongue schatzi?” Nico’s words had a hint of annoyance that only you could pick up on.

You turned to him with a glare “surely you can’t be thick enough to not see why I’m mad?” Your teeth bit down on the inside of your cheek.

The timing of the comment was against you as the car came to a red light giving him the chance to fully focus on you “you let her flirt with you and get it to a point where I’m uncomfortable and somehow I’m the fucking bitch!” It was clear you were hurt as Nico’s consistent effort to ignore your complaints stung “at least I’m not flirting with your best friend.” If Nico didn’t notice that you were pissed off he was sure to notice it now.

A laugh left your lips like you couldn’t believe that this was reality “Timo at least gives a shit about what I think.” As your words oozed from your lips Nico clenched at his hands around the steering wheel.

The commentary struck a nerve “you need to watch it schatzi.” His tone was cold “or else what?” Your tongue clicked as you waited to hear him throw back some lousy argument.

But instead you got something so much heavier “if I have to pull this car over you will not be able to walk for a week.” His threat made you want to squirm but your strength stopped you “is that meant to make me scared?” Your ego was always going to get you in trouble.

And as you watched Nico pull the car into a semi secluded area that was made all that much more private by the darkened skies “w-what are we-” you had never seen Nico do this, the only place you two had been together was in your room “you wanted to see me fuck you in the back so get in the back.” Nico’s expression was flat as he turned the car off.

As he went to undo his seatbelt you realised that he was indeed serious so this time you opted to listen, sliding into the back seat as you realised he had gotten out of the car. Nico didn’t take long however, as the next you saw of him was now from the back door as he did his best to find a comfortable position whilst the doors locked around you both “we could have gone home and had a nice night schatzi.” Nico sighed as he let his lips hover over yours.

His hands traveled up your waist over the fabric of your dress “would have bent you over in this pretty fucking dress that I love so much.” The captain muttered along to himself as his breath fanned against her skin.

You whimpered trying to force your body closer to his touch “uh huh baby.” Nico clicked his tongue as his hands tugged at your dress forcing it over your stomach “hold it.” He ordered as he sent you a look that told you he was serious.

His usually soft fingers felt rough as he tugged at your panties pulling them down your legs before he shoved them into his pants pocket “want you to spread these.” Nico patted your thighs as he helped you lift your legs up resting your feet against the passenger headrest and your current seats.

Your cunt still glistened even in the darker area “did Timo make you this wet?” Nicos question taunted you when his index finger ran up your slit “fuck no.” You whimpered as you shook your head.

Even as he pushed you to your most irritated , it was always Nico you thought of when your hands dropped between your thighs “oh look, your brain does still work.” The hockey player didn’t give you a chance to respond as his lips pressed a kiss on your clit “fuck Nico.”

Your hand traveled to his hair, fearing that he’d leave if you didn’t “always my pretty pretty girl.” Nico cooed as he slowly thrusted his fingers into your cunt.

In response your stomach tensed feeling his beard rake against the inside of your thigh “please.” Your voice was needy as his pace was painfully slow “please what?” His lips dropped from your clit with a pop.

Your lips rubbed together as your waterline was soaked in tears “please cap.” You begged arching your back against the door.

Your cunt was weeping as it called for his attention “such a well behaved girl.” Nico smirked as he went back to what he was doing. His fingers were long as they thrusted into your core “and to think you were trying to be such a brat.” The captain clicked his tongue as he laughs vibrated through your body.

It didn’t take him long to settle back into his motions lapping at your clit as he eyes watched you chew at your lower lip “you’re so pretty.” You whined feeling his gaze burn into your skin.

His fingers were calloused from the large amount of weight lifting that he had done in preparation for the season, you felt every detail as the gummy walls of your cunt clenched around him. Nico found the perfect balance between licking and thrusting his fingers that held you back from cumming.

He would graze your g-spot without letting you enjoy it for long enough.

He hid his smirk as your thighs began to shake “fuck Nico.” Your moans were brought on with a tug at his hair as your stomach began to tighten.

You drove your hips closer to him “fuck Nico ‘m close.” Your eyes screwed shut letting your pent up frustration bubble over as your fingers weren’t doing enough for you.

Nico always knew how to lull you into your orgasms so when you felt his fingers drop from your cunt your mouth fell open “you really think I was gonna let you cum?” He laughed as he pressed his lips against your thigh.

You couldn’t help but huff “you wanted to be a brat and not get treated like one?” Nico taunted you as he rolled his eyes sitting up straight “you know you gotta answer when I talk to you sweet girl.” The hockey player pointed out as you looked to your thigh where his hand sat.

A gulp echoed from your throat “why do you let her flirt with you?” The question was vulnerable as if your heart wasn’t ready for the answer even as your mind was “because I don’t care for it.” It was Nicos usual answer and it made you feel like everything you had done tonight crumbled beneath you.

He too noticed your disappointed state when he hooked his fingers under your chin “not when I’ve got my girl.” He explained using his other hand to pull you onto his lap “and what’s so special about her?” You failed to hide your blush as you chewed at the inside of your cheek.

Nico nodded as he brought his hands down to your legs “well she’s got a smoking body.” His words made you laugh as you toyed with the buttons on his shirt “just a good body?” Your fingers made light work of revealing the skin of his chest.

The boy placed a kiss on your shoulder “sometimes she knows how to behave too.” He smirked as your jaw dropped letting your mouth fall agape “well we both know you prefer when I act like a brat.” You shot back petting your hand travel to his belt.

The increased pressure made Nicos breathing grow unsteady “so you admit you were being a brat?” The air around you both grew hot as he clicked his tongue doing as much as he could to hide his reaction to your hand fiddling with his boxers.

A smile formed on your lips as you pulled his cock out from above the waistband “well I don’t think a brat would willingly fuck you.” You pressed a kiss against the shell of Nicos ear as his fingers dug into your skin.

You squeezed your thighs around his leg “yeah well you’re still my needy fucking slut.” Nico reminded you as he arched his back trying to push into the pleasure he felt as you met his movements with pulling away.

His gaze sharpened as he scoffed “who’s the needy slut now.” You smirked running your fingers through his hair, softly tugging at the roots in the process “schatzi you better watch it.” The hockey player warned as his hand cupped your ass cheek.

You grinned as you let your hips drop so that his cocks head could graze your clit “know that you’re too horny to leave me here.” You hissed as the sensations shot through your body “just fucking sit on my cock.” He ordered and as his eyes practically burned into your skin.

The air around you both grew tense as you let your cunt sink around his cock “fuck Neeks.” Your forehead pressed against his as you took a chance to adjust around him.

His eyes stared into yours when his hands settled on your ass “I’ve got you.” His voice was soft as he dropped his head to kiss at your collarbone.

You whimpered at the feeling, finally rocking your hips as you revelled in his attention “don’t like you in all this.” You mumbled fisting your hands at his jacket “can say the same for you schatzi.” Nico clicked his tongue as his eyes toyed over the breast line of your dress.

It gave you the confidence to begin moving a little bit faster as you propped yourself up in a way that left you almost bouncing on his cock “then do something about it.” You whined as his hands wrapped around to slap your ass.

The skin was left red but you didn’t seem to care as you continued to swirl your hips, letting your core feel every inch of him “maybe I will.” The hockey player let his fingers harshly tug at the fabric, damaging the straps in the process “Nico!” Your whine echoed through the car as the boy smirked.

Nico always did adore this sight as your now free breasts bounced with every thrust of his cock since he made his hips meet yours. He was grateful for the fact that, you hated wearing bras in these dresses because now he had one less piece of clothing to get rid of.

His laugh pulled you away from the pleasure that was building up in your stomach “much better.” He clicked his tongue before he lowered his lips to your peaked skin.

A wonton moan left your lips as his tongue swirled around your skin “fuck Nico.” You gasped letting your hand tug at the hair on the nape of his neck.

You forgot how much you missed getting Nico like this, the power you had being on top of him was your favourite since he so clearly worshipped your every being“all you had to do was ask for this doll.” Nico murmured pressing a kiss against your skin as he switched to the other breast.

Now you were far too gone letting your hand drop to your clit craving the fucked out bliss you sought “‘m sorry.” You huffed catching your lower lip between your teeth.

It made the boy grunt against your skin as your cunt clenched around him “what was that schatzi?” His lips left your nipple with a pop bringing a line of saliva with his mouth, causing your eyes to screw shut.

Your silence made the sound of his breath and his skin slapping against yours when he drove his hips up echo in your ears “I couldn’t hear you slut.” Nicos voice got deeper as he softly hit your hand away, replacing his calloused fingers on your clit.

The action cause a long moan to leave your lips “please Nico.” You whined pressing your hand against his chest causing the cold metal of your ring to cool his skin.

As he looked down being reminded of the sizeable diamond that sat on your engagement ring, he swore he could have cum on the spot “you know that’s not the right words schatzi.” His softer words could have given you whiplash “I’m sorry okay!” You grumbled growing frustrated as you swore that every bit of strength you once had as you planned your night had vanished.

His thumb pressed into your clit in response “now that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” Nicos pace increased as he rubbed your sensitive bud craving his orgasm yet refused to cum first.

Your eyes began to flutter as he watched you do little to hide the fact that you were close “wanna go make a mess on my cock?” He added cooing in your ear as you nodded “wanna baby neeks.” You confessed feeling your walls burn as they trapped his cock within them.

If Nico had been dreaming he didn’t care because that made his pace turn animalistic as his free hand pinched at your hip “can’t wait to see these fucking tits grow so full.” Nico barked his desires at you and it was finally too much as your body began to shake “Jesus neeks.” You cried as your cunt clenched around him when you collapsed into his chest.

With a few more pumps of his cock and a soft “fucking hell.” His release spurted from his tip and coaxed your walls.

A flurry of whimpers flew from your lips as you felt him continue to slowly thrust into you “just making sure you don’t lose any of it schatzi.” Nico softy laughed as he kissed your forehead seeing your breathing slow “I love you.” The whisper was so quiet that if you weren’t looking up at him the words would have been lost in the leather of his seats.

In that moment he swore it was just you two and the gentle hymn of the engine “I love you too.” He let out a soft sigh running his fingers over your skin in random figures “and I’m sorry that I haven’t done a good job showing that.” Nico added causing you to nod as he tucked his hair behind his ear.

You softly smiled as you had enough energy to sit up straight “really?” You cocked your head blissfully unaware of what the night would hold.

It was as if Nico was going to cement the thoughts in your brain as he pushed any doubts away “you think you can give me one more?” You were now in your bed with your legs over his shoulders “fuck no.” You gasped seeing his face push out from the sheets.

The sun now started creeping up through the gaps in the curtains “ain’t that a shame.” Nico let out an exasperated huff as he pushed up to hover over you.

Your body was tired as you hadn’t stopped feeling his pleasure since you arrived “you’re so pretty.” Your voice was soft as you kissed his lips pulling the sheet over you both once you used what little strength you could find to flip the two of you over.

It was funny that after that night you two didn’t see a lot more of Mackenzie, in fact she seemed to move out “isn’t Micheal so sweet?” You giggled to yourself cupping your now quickly forming baby belly as you stared at the basket of baked goods in front of you.

Nico swore it was the universe coming back to laugh at him mocking what happened all but four months ago. Oh how he was going to grow relieved on the day when he learnt that it was in fact he who Micheal had a crush on, not you.

#amber writes fics #nico hischier smut #hockey smut #nhl smut #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #nh13 imagines #nh13 #nh13 smut #nico hischier oneshot #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine

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bruciemilf · 1 year

Text

Having so many de aged! Jason feelings. I might just burst.

Dick and Tim theorize on how a small, happy little baby winded up in Jason's apartment. It's no secret their brother, a wall of bulk with a tender core, houses the homeless sometimes.

Maybe the baby is someone's? But if so, why was he alone? Jason isn't exactly famous for his unquestionable wisdom, but he's too caring to leave a defenceless infant by himself.

More importantly, why is this baby rolling on his tummy on a familiar brown jacket, evidently craving to be picked up?

"Can you take him? I'm not..." Tim's not good with kids; It's a running joke among them. Even If there's nothing comical about this.

Dick nods. His pride does swell when the baby giggles and coos.

"He has good taste."

" Okay, Narcissus. Let's take him home before your head pops,'' was Tim just a tiny bit jealous this little chubby cheeked thing was snuggling close to Dick, while downright glowering at him?

Maybe. A little. But babies were glorified chunks of meat, shaped just enough like a human to be considered cute. What did they know?

So they get home. It's a pleasant rarity, but they're all in one place.

All except Bruce, of course. Too busy bleeding on the streets to spend any time with them, Dick huffs,

Poor Damian is trying to jump and leap amongst them giants, struggling to take a peek at their young guest, " Grayson! I want the baby!"

" He's not a toy, Dami," they all share a silent look, clearly thinking the same thing. He got it from Bruce,

"What does it do?"

" He's a baby, Steph. He's not even aware he exists!"

" God I wish that were me,"

Duke looks at Babybird, as Dick affectionately took to calling him, with a strange, quizzical look, " He looks familiar. You said you found him at Jay's?"

" Yeah, but I'm taking him to a firestation. I just had to show B. You know he likes volunteering at daycares. Maybe he'll recognize him."

" Recognize who?"

Babybird was chewing on his own foot when the elevator doors slid open. Cass wasn't a wordsmith.

She read movements and actions as one listens to music.

Every member of her beloved family was a song of their own; Dick was motivational and calming.

Stephanie was packed with action, brimming with electrifying energy that just made you want to jump.

Tim was clean and precise with accents of pop. Duke was light and happy and silently confident. Damian was angry, and passionate and brave.

Bruce was powerful, sad, and perfectly tragic.

But when Babybird shrieked, yelled out in happiness and excitement and tried to wiggle out of Dick's arms with a sunshine beam and grabby hands?

Her father was a love song.

"Jay," The name sounds like Bruce is choking. His eyes are burning with tears, marching directly to Dick, " Jay? Jay!"

" Wh--"

"Dada!" Babybird, -- Jason? They only now noticed the white curl bouncing on top of his head, ( their inner detectives groan) " Dadadada, pap papi pap,"

They can't do anything, frozen in place, as Bruce spends the following two hours planting a garden of kisses on Jason's cheeks, full with laughter, while they read and color and build blocks.

"Uh, Bruce? I'm...I'm gonna call Zatanna."

" In a minute."

" DAD, --"

" In a minute."

It wasn't just a minute. It was an entire week.

As ridiculous as it was? They were starting to get jealous.

#bruce wayne #de aged #baby jason todd #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #cassandra cain #batfamily #batfam #fluff #dc #dc comics #damian very quickly demanding jon to learn how to de age ppl #'baba barely knows we exist anymore! he only cares about that underbaked toddler!'#'dami. try to ask yourself #what would nightwing do?' '' grayson wants to leave him at a nun house!''#bruce ofc babies them as well after dick and damian call him out on it. they get baby jason is the most adorable thing on earth #but they need kisses too damn it!

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imastrangeone98 · 4 months

Text

Homecoming

(A/N: boothill my cyborg my love my life my everything-)

WARNING: fem!reader, SMUT SMUT FRESH OFF THE PLATE MINORS GTFO ILL WHOOP YO BUTTS, probably ooc!boothill but whatever it's fine lmao, his exact birth name isn't known so I didn't put a name for him- if there is one I'll replace it; but I found some X art that called his baby girl "cherry" and I really liked it so I'll use that, and way too much plot as always

"Well, hello there! What'cha lookin' at, sweetie?" You bend down to the little girl's eye level, peeking at where the child's gaze is locked on, then smiling in understanding. "You like those ones? They're moon lilies; they're flowers that are really special!"

"Pe... shal?" the little girl babbles, and you laugh.

"Yes, dear. Special." You pluck one of the flowers, beautiful with light blue petals and golden pollen, and offer it to her. "They mean loyalty, and undying devotion, because they only grow in places they like, and they won't grow anywhere else."

"Loya..." the girl mumbles. You chuckle and pick her up, carefully tucking the flower behind her ear.

"Now, where's your mama? Or your papa? I'm sure they're worried sick about-"

"Cherry! Sweet pea, where ya at?!"

Your ears prick, and the girl giggles and claps at the sound. "Well, I guess we found him."

You maneuver through the crowd until you find the source of the call: a man, tall and lean, with flowing black-and-white hair and piercing gray eyes.

Oh. He's beautiful.

The little girl squeals with delight at the sight of her father, and his head whips towards your direction. He sprints over to you and takes the child in his arms, pressing her close to his chest.

"There ya are, ya little rascal! What'd I tell ya about runnin' off?! Ya had me worried sick!" He kisses her forehead, then looks at you. "Thanks, I would've lost her without ya."

"Of course!" You wave it off, hoping he doesn't notice your hot cheeks. "I will say, she has good taste in flowers! If you'd ever like to buy a bouquet, you should bring her along!"

"Flowers? Oh..." He looks at his daughter, finally noticing the moon lily tucked in her hair. His cheeks flush a bright red. "Aw, man, I'm sorry for the trouble, I can pay for it-"

"Oh, don't worry about it, it's on the house! But I do hope this won't be the last time I see her!" You wave at her, and she giggles.

The man laughs at that. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind." He then stretches out his hand to you. "I'm [???]."

"(Y/N)."

He repeats your name slowly, thoughtfully, then smirks. "Guess I'll be seeing you around, lady."

"I'll be looking forward to it, cowboy."

Your eyes crack open.

Instead of a bustling marketplace, you're in a small shack in the middle of nowhere.

Just a memory.

You rise, body aching with fatigue and heartache, but you force yourself to push it to the side.

There's work to be done. You grab your phone and send a message.

ML: The USB is ready. I'll leave it at the usual place.

BH: ca nt maek it cme her

You stare at the coordinates your contact sent you with a groan.

You don't do face-to-face, too much risk. And the information you collected is time-sensitive; you're not sure if you'll be able to make it to the abandoned planet of Mavorosa in time for it to still be valuable, and your spaceship isn't one meant for such great lengths.

But this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: Oswaldo Schneider is likely to make an appearance at the upcoming IPC Centennial Gala, and BH has proven themself capable of terminating that sick bastard.

You know you're not strong enough to do it yourself, but BH is. And anyone capable of taking down the son of a bitch who destroyed your home, your planet, your lover, is worthy of your trust.

So you bite your lip and bear it. You'll work something out.

ML: ok. I'll be there tomorrow @ 18:00, don't be late.

BH: k

You roll your eyes. Never mind.

With a heavy sigh, you carefully take out the picture/ only one you have of him. With your little girl in one arm and the other wrapped around your waist, he stares back at you with a grin. Bright, beautiful, alive.

"Don't worry, darling," you whisper, tracing the lines of his cheek and hair on the photograph. "We're one step closer to our goal. That bastard's a dead man walking now that we got BH on the case. They're good; strong and capable, I know they'll get the job done for us."

You gently press your lips over his image. And for a brief moment, you let yourself pretend that the paper is a good replacement for his callous skin.

"Once everything's done, I'll go over and join you and our girl. We'll be together again, I'm sure."

He smiles eternally at you, and you find yourself smiling back.

"Wish me luck, darling. Help me be strong."

[...]

His little girl adores you.

Each time he comes by the market, the first thing she whines for is to see the flowers. And you always indulge her, lifting her in your arms so you can show her all the pretty little blooms you have in your small cart. You give names to each one, tell her what they mean as though she understands you.

And you laugh. And he finds himself thinking that his little girl is a good judge of character, because he's starting to adore you too.

And it's becoming obvious, since Nick and Gray give him the occasional nab and jab, wondering out loud when they're going to see him get married and give them another grandchild. His siblings too, always cackling and yapping about how he might be the first to hang up his boots and settle down.

He rolls his eyes, but he's not too displeased by the idea. You're soft and sweet, with a kick of spice to match- the thought of settling down with you and Cherry on the farm is surprisingly sweet.

So he leaves Cherry to her loving grandparents and invites you out on a moonlit stroll through the hillside meadow, the one with the perfect view of the blooming moon lilies and the spring lake that reflects the starry night sky.

"I've never been here before," you gasp in awe, eyes aglow as you absorb the scenery. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah," he murmurs, gaze fixated on you and the moonlight in your eyes. "You are."

You turn your head, and your eyes meet. "Huh? Did you say something?"

"N- nothin'!" He faces the lake, and hopes you don't notice his red cheeks. "Said nothin'."

You laugh, and god, he melts at the sound. Then you rub the back of your head, and turn away, blushing. "I... I think you're very beautiful too."

His brain short-circuits. "Pretty... you think I'm..." Then he gasps dramatically. "So you did hear that! You sneaky mouse!"

He playfully tackles you, and you both laugh and chortle as you wrestle one another to the ground. But then he opens his eyes and finds himself on top of you, hands intertwined, faces so close he can feel your breath, smell your moon lily scent.

The moonlight bathes you in silver, and god, he wants to kiss you. He wants to kiss you senseless, run his callous hands on your soft skin, wrap your plush thighs around his hips and-

"Can I...?" he whispers, weak and wanting. "Just... just a taste, I swear..."

You stare up at him, eyes so big and wide that he swears the moon itself disappeared to light up your gaze, that he doesn't notice you untangling your hands from his until you wrap your arms around his neck.

"Just a taste, cowboy?" you tease. "You don't wanna try... anything else?"

You raise your hips and grind on his pelvis, and he moans and kisses you, hard.

Eager hands dart across skin, tearing off clothes. He runs his hands over your plush tummy, hooks your thighs around his hips and moans when he finally enters you.

He'll never forget this moment. Even if he were to die and be reborn, he'll never forget you. Your pleasured moans as he slides himself inside your tight heat, your teary smile as you open your arms to let him press his chest against yours, your starry eyes so full of love and desire that mirror his own.

You make love for hours, the stars and moon lilies your only witnesses.

"-hill. Boothill."

His eyes crack open.

Instead of a blooming moon lily meadow, he's in the underground repair shop.

Just a memory.

He rises with a groan, mechanical joints creaking from the lack of use. "Done already? I was havin' quite the nice dream."

The mechanic rolls her eyes. "Yeah, I can tell. Anyway, speed upgrades are done; the rest of your body is the same- sensory receptors are good, memory chip still intact, et cetera."

She rambles on and on; he's used to tuning her out at this point. As long as his body is in peak condition, he doesn't need to know what else extra she's stacked on him.

"-and the dick. Make sure to test it out at some point."

He blinks. "What'd ya say?"

She groans. "The dick, Boothill. Make sure to test it."

"What dick are ya talking about? If you're trying to say I'm a piece of shi-"

"I added a dick attachment to your body, dumbass." She points towards his crotch. "I had an extra one that I really need to get rid of, so I'm giving it to you. Use it, rip it up and toss it, I don't care- just get it off my back!"

And with no further explanation, the mechanic practically throws him out the store, slamming the door with extra ferocity. Boothill lies on the ground, blinking a few times in shock, before checking his pants, and lo and behold, there is a silicone dick attachment. Sensory receptors and everything, he hisses when he pokes lightly at it, the wires in his body jittering at the unfamiliar sensation.

Doe eyes and a teary smile flash in the back of his mind.

He suddenly jumps to his feet with a vengeance and slams on the door. "You cheating, deceitful shirt-bag! Take this fudging thing off right now! You hear me, woman?! Take this shirt off right now!"

He's no doubt starting a commotion, a crowd drawing in to witness his rage-induced ranting and raving. But then his phone dings, and he's forced to put a pin in it, taking out the shitty device to hear the alarm: Meeting with ML @ 18:00! Meeting with ML @ 18:00! Be there or be square!

Ah, shit.

He can't miss this meeting, not even to blow a hole right between that shitty mechanic's eyebrows. ML is too valuable to lose, having provided him with incredibly detailed information on Oswaldo Schneider and the IPC time and again. Almost as if they have an agenda against that sick bastard as well.

Well. The enemy of an enemy is a friend, right? He'll take what he can get. And if they end up turning their back, well, he's sure his bullet is faster than their legs.

So he leans to the door, whispers a deadly "I'll be back for you, baby," and dashes to his spaceship to head over to Mavorosa.

And as he's prepping for flight, he looks over at the picture on the dashboard.

It's the only one Boothill has of you. The three of you, together- him holding little Cherry in one arm and your waist in the other, you wrapping your arms around him and your baby girl with your sweet smile and moon lily eyes.

He brushes a metal fingertip over your face.

"Just hang in there, moon lily," he whispers, a clump in his throat. "We're one step closer; ML's got some good intel on the son of a nice lady that destroyed our planet- our home. That destroyed you."

Boothill lost the ability to cry long ago, but the corners of his eyes itch all the same. He gnaws on his lip so hard, drops of blue blood trickle down his chin.

"I swear to you, darlin', I'm gonna get our revenge against that beautiful bench. He'll wish he never set his filthy sights on our home once I'm through with him." He gently picks up the photo and presses his lips to your image. "And then I'll come home. To Cherry, Nick and Gray, my siblings. I'll come home to you. We'll get started on that house we talked about, maybe some runts so Cherry can be a big sister..."

He swallows, then carefully puts the photo back on the dashboard. The lump doesn't disappear, so once the spaceship is cruising through the stars to Mavorosa, he sets it on autopilot and descends into the belly to go to his chest of valuables. He opens it up and delicately takes out the moon lily crown.

The one he was working on for you, a promise of his undying devotion. Before the world exploded in fire and ash. Before the IPC decimated his family, the moon lily meadow... decimated you.

He closes his eyes and raises it to his face. Even preserved, the petals are still soft to the touch, and smell just as lovely.

Just like you.

He won't let your death be in vain. He won't.

The lump in his metal chest morphs into rage.

Boothill opens his eyes.

[...]

If not for the Stellaron, Mavorosa would be a wonderful planet. A once lively city now stands abandoned, its skyscrapers and glass structures being embraced by nature once again.

You stand on the rooftop, mask and voice synthesizer on, fidgeting with the USB, simply observing everything when-

"So this is what you look like. I thought you'd be bigger," a male voice calls behind you.

Your body freezes. That voice... it sounds like...

No. You must be wrong. Maybe you've been so lonely that every male voice just starts to sound like your deceased lover.

"I thought you'd be here earlier," you reply with your warped voice. "Time is precious to you and me both, BH."

"Sorry, had to wrap up some... personal stuff on my end. I'm here now, ain't I?" The oh-so-familiar yet distant voice chuckles. "Well. Business ain't gonna settle itself. Where's the drive?"

"Where's the payment? We both know I don't work free."

He huffs. "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Don't worry, I got your cash. Just fork over the drive, no need to make things difficult, not after everything, yeah? Haven't I earned your trust by now?"

"You realize how difficult face-to-face is? It takes a substantial amount of effort to get this intel, not to mention the possibility of being-" You turn around in your exasperation-

And you drop the USB.

Tall and metal. Flowing black-and-white hair. Piercing gray-and-red eyes. Sharp teeth.

"Y'know, I've always wanted to be a gunslinger, just like Nick," [???] cackled, whipping out his revolver and making dramatic poses with it. "Maybe be one of those boothills of legend."

"I'd rather you not," you murmured as you brushed off some dirt off of his shirt. "Those boothills always died on their feet. I'd rather you not die at all."

He softened, and with a smile, he put down his gun and sidled up to you, bringing you in his embrace, warm and strong. You breathed in his comforting scent and sighed happily.

"Don't you worry about that, hun." He kissed your cheek, then square on your mouth. "I ain't goin' nowhere. You can't get rid of me that easy!"

BH. Boothill.

How could you not notice earlier?

Your mouth dries. You can't move a muscle.

It's him. Mechanical, but very much alive.

"Hey, watch the merchandise!" he hisses, pointing at the fallen USB. "I need that, don't you forget it!"

"How are you..." you weakly gasp, then you grab the USB. "Here. Take it. Forget the money."

You slide it over to him, and he stops it with his foot. But his eyes narrow at you.

"Whaddaya mean, 'How are you,' huh?" He walks towards you, slow and leisurely, like a coyote cornering its helpless prey. "You say that like you're shocked I'm still around. What'd ya do, huh? Sell me off to the IPC?"

"No!" you cry, shocked. "I would never-!"

"Why so jittery, partner? What are you hiding?" He smirks, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "How about a show of trust, huh? You take off that cute little mask of yours, I don't shoot you dead, and we keep our little arrangement goin'. Sound fair?"

You turn around, eyes searching for an escape route.

Aeons above, you need to leave. You can't show him your face. You can't remind him of everything he lost, the people he couldn't save. You can't hurt him any more than you already have. You're afraid. You want to hide. You're selfish. You want to tell him. You're in love.

You want to die. You want the ground to swallow you alive. You want to hole away in your shack and wallow in your grief, descend into a spiral of what-ifs: what if you tried harder to find him? What if you searched the whole IPC ship you snuck on trying to resolve things peacefully until you found him? What if you ran out earlier and tried to bring him with you? What if, what if, what if-

"Now that you got some measure of my grit," he whispers in your ear, suddenly standing behind you, "I'm sure you know how this ends, yeah? C'mon now, take it off."

You pant heavily, head dizzy with his close proximity- god, even with the metal, he still smells the same. "I- I can't-"

"Feelin' shy? Alright, I'll do it for you."

"No! Please, no!" You swat at his hands and try to break free of his iron grip, but he grabs you hard and pulls you against his chest.

He cackles, metallic and bitter. "And here I thought I finally had an ally, but no- you're just like the rest of 'em shirt-bags." He whips out his revolver and raises it to your head. "Take. It. Off. Now."

You want to cry. You don't want to hurt him.

Slowly, with trembling hands, you take off your mask...

And his gun falls to the floor.

Doe eyes. Soft cheeks. Scars. Floral scent.

"What made you wanna be a florist?" he asked you once, helping you water the rainbow roses. "They're pretty and all, don't get me wrong. But don't you want somethin' more exciting?"

"On the contrary, I think they're very exciting," you explained. "They all have their unique personality; some need lots of love and care, and others don't mind if you go missing for a week or two. There's flowers that only stay with you for so long, and there are others that will love you for as long as you'll let them."

He grunted. "Sounds like you'd do just fine without me."

"Oh, please." You put down your watering can and embraced him from behind. And just as planned, he melted at your touch. "Moon lilies love the moon, but they need the sun to grow. And that's exactly what you are to me."

"The moon?"

"The sun."

ML. Moon lily.

It's so obvious, how did he not realize it sooner?

He lets you go. You immediately stumble away from him, hands covering your face in shame.

Boothill has no lungs, yet he feels his chest collapse.

"(Y/N)?" he calls to you, weak and desperate. "Moon lily? That's really you, right?" He reaches out, hand shaking. But when he grazes your shoulder, you hunch further into yourself. "I- I'm sorry, I... I didn't mean to scare ya. Please..."

Boothill willingly let go of his humanity. But right here, right now, he wishes he still had his skin.

"Please, darlin'... turn around? Let me see you, please."

You shiver, tears spilling down your cheeks, and slap a hand over your mouth. You can't hurt him, you'll never hurt him. "I can't... I can't see you."

His body wants to collapse. He wants to grab you by your shoulders and kiss you senseless, look at you from head to toe and sing praises to Lan for protecting you and keeping you safe.

But you won't see him. You won't turn around.

"Why?" he whines, like a pleading child. "Why not?"

"Because I'm not the same anymore!" you sob. "I'm not your moon lily anymore! I don't want to remind you of everything you lost! I don't want to hurt you anymore! You don't know the things I've done, the blood I spilled, all to destroy the IPC!" You sink to the floor in despair, echoes of the dead haunting you, swarming your mind. "I can't bear to see you hate me for being alive when everyone else died. I already hate myself so much, hated myself because I couldn't save anyone else! I thought I lost you, but now I realize I didn't search for you at all! I didn't even try to find you, I..."

You cry and sob and scream. You pound the floor with your fists. You pull at your hair, your clothes, your skin, so hard that drops of blood water the cement.

Boothill's eyes itch with tears that will never spill. His chest burns with a profound grief that will never truly be his own.

"You think I don't feel that way about myself?" he finally whispers. Bravely, he takes a step closer to you. "From the moment the bombs fell, I was never the same. I changed too much to be that man you met at the market- hell, I don't even have the body anymore." He sits just behind you, close to touch but not close enough. "The blood I spilled would be enough to fill oceans. But I'm still here. I still remember everything. I still remember you." His hand, feather-light, brushes your arm. You don't pull away. "I thought I lost you. When I went back to the ranch and couldn't find anyone there, I thought you were one of the piles of ashes on the ground." He chokes as he speaks, but he pushes on. "I never hated myself more. I failed to save them; I failed to save you."

You shake your head, but he gently rests his head on your back, right between your shoulder blades. He breathes you in- dust, machine oil, and moon lilies.

You smell so alive.

"How could you think I'd ever hate you," he whimpers, "when there's no one I hate more than myself? No, sweetheart, I could never hate you. I never will. Nothing you do could ever make me hate you. So please, turn around..." He grabs a fistful of your shirt and tugs. "I'm begging you. Let me see your face, please."

Your heart breaks. You couldn't fathom how much he suffered, how lonely he must have felt, the self-loathing that coursed through his wires every time he looked in the mirror.

Just like you.

"Don't hate yourself," you sniffle, rubbing your eyes. "Nothing you do could ever make me hate you either. What happened wasn't your fault; you didn't know what the IPC was going to do until it happened."

He lets out a small huff. "I could easily say the same about you. It wasn't your fault either- neither of us could've known until it was too late."

You exhale shakily. "Do you really mean it? Not hating me?"

Boothill smiles. "Every word."

For a moment, you're afraid. What if he doesn't like what he sees? You know he's not a superficial man, but you're still not the sweet florist he remembers anymore.

You suck in a deep breath. He's not the same man you remember, but he's still your cowboy, your Boothill.

Slowly, you turn around, and...

Oh. His face is just how you remember. His beautiful silky hair, the red targets in his eyes still framed within familiar stormy gray. When you reach out with trembling hands to cup his smooth cheeks, he melts in your touch just how he always did.

And melt he does. He nearly moans at your soft touch, pressing his cheek into your palms to keep your focus on him. He drinks up every detail of your face and commits it to memory- your beautiful moony eyes and the dark circles under them, the faintest hint of a scar curling from the edge of your jawline into your neck, your soft hair that smells of moon lilies.

You're still you, the sweet florist he fell in love with all those years ago. And now you've returned to him, and this time, he'll never let you go.

He sits you on his lap and embraces you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and savoring your scent. You wrap your legs around his waist and make yourself comfortable, admiring his metal body, tracing patterns into the steel.

"I love you," he whispers with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "I never stopped loving you, not for one second."

"I'm sorry I didn't look for you," you confess. "But I kept you in my heart every day. Even when we weren't together, you were always a part of me."

"I'm here now." He pulls away to admire you, his thumb brushing your bottom lip as he gazes at you with what you could only describe as reverence. "I'm right here with you. I'm not leaving you ever again."

Boothill didn't realize how much his world lacked color until he kisses you, but now he swears he can see every color in the spectrum flash before his eyes. You taste just how he remembers, sweet and salty with your tears. When you pull away for air, he dives back in to reclaim your lips, hooking a hand around your neck to keep you in place.

He won't let you slip from his fingers again. And you clearly feel the same way, because you tangle your hands with his hair and tug him closer, pulling him on top of you.

"Please don't be a dream," you cry in his shoulder, and it damn near breaks his heart. "I don't want to wake up if it is."

"Darlin', those dreams are better off in Penacony; I'm right here. Does this," he kisses your cheek, "or this," he squeezes your ass and relishes in your squeal, "or this..." He grinds into you, and you gasp, squeezing his shoulders with a whimper. And fuck, maybe he was a bit too harsh with that mechanic, he should send her flowers or something, because your face contorted in shock and a hint of reawakened pleasure is a drug he will happily become addicted to. He nibbles on your ear and whispers, "Any of that feel like a dream to you?"

"...No." You stare at him, moon lily eyes abloom with hearts and love and fuck, he wants you, he needs you.

And your eyes are reflected in his, because you're so captivated by how the targets in his gaze morph into blood red hearts that drip with love and devotion. You want to give him everything, bring him under your skin and into your heart so you'll never be separated again.

"I love you." You smile and open your arms for him. "Let's never be apart again."

Boothill's brain short-circuits. He can only remember the minutiae of what happens next- tearing off your clothes, your hands running across his metallic chest, his sensors working in overdrive to let him process your touch, your smell, your taste, as he kisses, nibbles and sucks his way across the canvas of your body to reach your core.

But just as he's about to taste your liquid gold, you tug on his hair. He immediately moves up to your face, nuzzling into your neck to comfort you.

"What's wrong, moon lily? I'll be gentle, I promise," he reassures you, but you bite your lip and shake your head.

"I know. But I don't want that right now; I want you to fuck me."

You spread your legs, once again revealing your soaking pussy to his hungry eyes, and fuck, his mouth goes dry at the exquisite feast before him. And his new dick feels the same way, as the electricity in his body jolts it to life, straining against his pants.

He swallows. "Yeah, baby. I want you too, but I gotta prep ya, or it's gonna hurt."

"Don't care!" you whine, and on Lan's Arrow, you're so cute with your pouting and wailing. "I need you, Hillie, I need it, I need it-!"

Ah, fuck. He can't say no to you, and he won't start now.

So he rips off his pants, and after a few quick pumps of his new cock (yeah, he'll send some flowers to the mechanic as a thank-you), he grabs hold on your hips and thrusts forward.

You shriek at the burning sensation, scrambling for grip on his shoulders as he penetrates deeper and deeper. Fuck, it's been so long since you had sex of any kind, and it shows. You moan loudly, shamelessly, so sensitive to the buttons his cock presses perfectly against your walls, that you cum instantly when he bottoms out, hips meeting yours with a soft thud.

"Fuuudge," Boothill groans, each syllable drawn out in pleasure, "you're so tight, sugar~ I can't even move..."

His brain might just melt from the overload of sensations. Your pussy's so tight, so wet, he's damn sure he near ascended to aeonhood. And your face is so adorable when cumming, he makes sure to engrave every part of it into his neurochip and brush the hair out of your eyes, moving his hips in slow, shallow thrusts, guiding you out of the afterglow.

When you finally blink the stars out of your eyes, you see Boothill hovering above you, rubbing your cheek with hearts in his eyes.

"God, you're so fudgin' gorgeous." He grins, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light, and a shiver of excitement runs down your spine. "Think you got another for me?"

You whine, "Still sensi- AH!"

He immediately sets a vigorous pace, hips slamming against yours in a hypnotic rhythm. He fixates on your breasts, and leans over to take a hard nipple in his mouth to suck and lick and nibble. You squeal and pull on his hair. He bites your skin in retaliation.

"Easy, moon lily," he moans, quickly stifling it with a kiss. "Hold on to me."

He grabs under your arms and lifts you onto his lap. His cock sinks impossibly deeper inside you, the tip nudging at your cervix. With a shriek, you bite his neck to try and ease the discomfort, but it only excites him more. With a guttural groan, he thrusts up into your sopping hole, bouncing you up and down with rough hands to set an even rougher pace.

You're still so sensitive; too much, too fast, and his cock fits so snugly inside you that you're already spiraling towards another release. But you don't want to make that journey alone, you want Boothill beside you.

So you grab his face and devour his mouth, pressing your tongue against his to savor his metallic taste. He moans against your lips, hips stuttering in an effort to keep up with you.

"Wanna make you feel good," you pant heavily. You carefully slide up and down on his thick cock, head thrown back as it hits your sweet spot. "Wanna... wanna cum with you!"

"Y- you are, baby," he groans against your neck, each word punctuated with a deep thrust. "You're makin' me feel so- darn- good-"

You're so close, you can see the faintest glimmer of stars again. Or maybe that was the sparks from his body as it overworks to keep his sensors running, so he can keep feeling you, tasting you, fucking you.

"Hillie," you gasp when the stars start to overwhelm you. "Hillie, I-"

"I know, baby, let go, I'm right with ya." He kisses you, over and over, thrusts sloppy as he chases his high, sensors working overdrive, wires sparking to further push him over the edge. "I'm- fudge, fudge, fudge-!"

He chokes, and you both come undone together, chasing that relentless wave of pleasure side by side. Stars collide and burst in showers of gold and silver, and your strength all but fails you, so you collapse in Boothill's arms, rubbing your cheek on his cool chest.

He catches his breath, letting his sensors rest as he basks in that afterglow. His wires are probably fried after such an intense sensory overload, but he can't bring himself to give a damn. Not when you're sitting so pretty in his arms, eyes just barely able to stay open.

You're so cute when you're sleepy, it's hard to not bite your cheek like he used to do. But tonight, he'll be generous and resist the temptation; you need your rest.

He runs a hand through your hair, and he once again finds himself wishing he still had his skin. But he sets that aside, preferring to be lost in your sleepy smile instead.

"Love you, Hillie," you coo drowsily, head nodding off.

"I love you more, moon lily," he whispers back with a kiss to your forehead.

In a moment, he'll bring you on his spaceship and clean you up, then tuck you in the spare bunk next to his charging port. He'll have to look at that USB you painstakingly put together for him sooner or later.

But for now, right here, he's not going anywhere.

His moon lily came back to him.

Boothill has finally returned home.

[Post-Credit]

"What the actual hell is this..." the mechanic sighs as she stares at the large bouquet of blue flowers.

She wonders if she should toss them out before she notices the card.

Thanks for the added bonus, Doc! - BH & ML

Her eyebrows raise. The handwriting's too nice and legible to be that Galaxy Ranger's, so...

She chuckles. "I figured it'd come in handy sooner or later."

She sets the bouquet on her desk and continues on with her work.

--------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: holy shirtballs BOOOTHILL MY LOVE AAAAAAAHSHDHDBSK I LOVE HIM SO MUCH LIKE I NEVER LOVED A CHARACTER BEFORE

...if only he loved me back just the slightest, cuz I lost 50/50 and went hard pity to get him. But I did win his lightcone so I guess it's even...?

#honkai star rail #boothill #boothill x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader

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