#and they can see the twinkle of bright lights in each other’s eyes

[sterekotypes]

Okay listen

Cowboy AU where Derek is the wanted man for murders he didn’t commit. But Derek’s not trying to clear his name, he doesn’t care anymore. He’s just trying to outride the long arm of the law. Go west.

He ends up in a town that borders Wyoming and he gets snowed in. He’s itching to leave. Doesn’t matter that some fallen angel who goes by Stiles consumes his every waking thought.

Derek has to go.

If anything he has to go because of that. So when the snow melts, somehow Derek is still in town. Stays in town until the law appears on the horizon, and well he’s got to leave now, doesn’t he?

[ruleofheart]

growing pains — ellie williams

ellie williams x f reader

7k

fluff, angst, smut >O<

ellie if nothing bad happened to her ever, childhood friends to acquaintances(?) to lovers, longing, joel is involved, ellie is a DWEEB! but so are you, car sex, classic misunderstandings

to the lovely folks that asked to be tagged, i hope this meets your expectations… i am terrified of failing you: @macaroni676 @d3sperationn @g3latin

beta read by @heartofrhea my best friend my apologies for being cringelord

The universe can be so cruel. 

You sit at the edge of the curb, curling your legs to yourself to feel less vulnerable. Your phone rolls in your hand, tears of frustration prickling at your eyes. You probably should’ve known better. Well— you do know better. That sinking, intuitive feeling had been swirling in the center of your stomach all night, but you had let your desperation and loneliness take ahold of you. 

You had agreed to go out with some friends and some friends of friends; people you didn’t know jackshit about, but hung out with anyway. You had hoped you didn’t reek of seclusion too bad, feeling like a wounded animal in a crowd of predators. 

But your friends and their friends didn’t really care. They had pulled away from you in the club, losing you to flashing lights and crowded bodies. You searched up and down, called their names in the dingy bathrooms, and even asked the bartender. No dice; you were here to party alone. Now what was the point of even coming along?

Silly.

You initially opted to order an Uber to just get the fuck off the street already, but hey— it’s a Friday night and finals are over. The prices listed cost more than six different coffee runs, and there’s no way you’d be giving those up. 

It’s how you end up sitting on the curb and fervently wiping your tears away, cringing when you remember your hands had been touching all the club door handles and god knows what else. You feel dirty, forgotten. 

You unlock your phone and dim the brightness— the stupid thing almost all out of battery— and turn to what seems to be a last resort, an option that you’ve buried away at the back of your mind for years now.

Pressing your phone to your ear, you can’t help but sigh as the line rings repeatedly, almost positive that you’re completely out of luck. 

It falls silent for a second before there’s faint rustling on the other side, and a voice so familiar, so painful to hear, questions you softly. 

“Ellie,” you say breathlessly; from fatigue or relief, you’re not sure anymore. “Can you come get me?” 

Becoming friends with Ellie Williams was almost too easy. 

That’s just how she is as a person. So easy to be around; her voice and twinkling laugh showing no threat. 

It began with Mrs. Sullivan’s freshman class seating chart; a table of four with you, Ellie, and two other boys who were too preoccupied with copying off each other’s notes half the time for you to even remember their names. You mostly kept to yourself as a weird adolescent, the onslaught of teenage hormones and emotions forcing you into your own little world. 

Ellie, on the other hand, was different. She had noticed the front page cover of Savage Starlight slipped into the front sleeve of your binder, the edges frayed and jagged as if you had actually ripped it off. She was almost offended at the sight of such a careless pull, but found the emotion wavering once she realized you read the comics just like her. 

“Hey! No way!” she had exclaimed with a growing smile, her eyes lit up. She had half a mind to just reach over and take your binder, fingers skimming over the glossy cover. She stopped herself mid-way, mind racing before she asked with just as much glee, “Can I see? I don’t think I’ve been able to get ahold of that edition yet.” 

Your short-lived conversations about Savage Starlight began to transform into lunchroom giggle sessions and bike rides on the way home. She was so easy to fall into; it was almost like she had a part of herself that was reserved just for you, eager for your arrival.

The thing about your dynamic was that it was so intricately woven over time, each thread of yourself intertwining with her own as you came to know each other better. Unabashed adoration and excitement with every laugh, with every moment of eye contact across the classroom and dinner table at home: a twinkle of unwavering youth and closeness.

And the thing was, when it came to you, Ellie was not prideful at all. She would openly admit any given moment that there had to be a hole in her heart that was in the shape of you. The two of you fit so nicely in each other’s lives, slipping into a familiar rhythm that almost seemed karmic, even at such a young age. While you were surrounded by other girls your age navigating their own pent up emotions and typical coming-of-age realizations, turning against each other and whispering dirty secrets, Ellie only seemed to cling onto you— hanging onto your every word with sincerity and trust.

It didn’t take long before Ellie began to invite you over to sleepovers, which was new territory for both her and Joel. He was already a little awkward as-is, navigating life with a teenage girl who had the same foul mouth and temperament as he.

So when you came around, greeting him with little smiles and kind language, he couldn’t help but feel his heart sway in relief, happy that Ellie has someone like you in her life. 

You’d tumble off your bikes, leaving them strewn across the front yard, crushing the grass he labored so hard over. But he didn’t mind, relieved to see the two of you arrive in one piece, losing yourself in video game releases and comic book pages as you both sat in her bedroom. 

Joel became a sort of fly on the wall for you two, ever-present as you were fairly comfortable in their home. Tuning the both of you in and out, listening closely for anything that may alarm him (which, never happened). Sitting across the both of you at the dinner table, serving up a quick and easy bowl of Hamburger Helper to you two. He’d glance at the two of you from under his eyelashes, watching how either you or Ellie would lean into each other as you splayed out homework sheets on the table, muttering to each other in curiosity. The two of you may have been better off sharing a single chair, he’d think to himself in amusement. 

Again, your presence in Ellie’s life and in his home never worried him. It became routine for him as well, watching the two of you bike up the block together almost every day after school. 

One hot summer afternoon, he stood on the porch, prying off the entrance screen door in an attempt to replace it, the critters from the greenbelt nearby winning at their efforts to nibble away at the material. 

From afar, he could hear the growing sound of your chattering, your bike chains clicking repeatedly as you breezed down the sidewalk. He glanced over his shoulder, watching as you two fought amicably, reaching out to each other in a playful attempt to push the other off their bike. He chuckled to himself and turned his gaze back to the screen door, fingers prying at the edges. 

Behind him, Ellie reached a little too far to the side, fingers brushing against your arm before she toppled over sideways off her bike. She collapsed with a laugh-yelp, swearing at you in a way that made you burst out laughing, your shoes dragging across the concrete to stop your bike. 

You hopped off your seat, carelessly letting it fall to the side as you approached Ellie, laughing at her as she pushed herself off the ground. 

“You idiot,” you breathed out in between laughs, nearly folding in on yourself as the incident repeated in your mind. 

“Dude!” she scolded lightheartedly, trying to feign annoyance, and of course failing. She stuck out her arm to show you a deep scrape right above her elbow. “This shit burns.” 

You caught your breath and stepped closer, eyeing the scrape. It was rather gnarly, and you inwardly winced at yourself knowing it was probably going to scab horribly.

“Damn,” you muttered to yourself, holding her arm and twisting it to get a better look. Joel eyed the way you two interacted, pulling away from his task as he glimpsed the bloody splotch on Ellie’s elbow. 

From where he was, he couldn’t exactly make out the words that you two exchanged, your voices lowered significantly. From the look of it, you were offering an apology. He didn’t catch the way you smiled up at her apologetically, but he was positive that his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him when you leaned in and placed a harmless, healing kiss onto her arm, right above the scrape.

It was, in reality, lighthearted and childish. A testament to your playfulness, your eagerness to please Ellie’s heart. 

And although Ellie didn’t realize it, there was a flicker of emotion that crossed her face. A change in her eyes; in the way that she looked at you. It flew over your head, too; busy smiling up at her, pulling her closer with the strength of the sun’s gravity. 

But Joel noticed. He caught this sudden change, this glimmer on Ellie’s face. He felt the complexities of youth and new emotion washing over him again, a short chuckle leaving his lips as he turned away, focusing back on fixing the screen door. 

Later that night, he pulled Ellie aside. 

“Hey, kid. I’m gonna need you to keep the door open when she’s around, alright?”

“What?” Ellie asked, utterly oblivious. A look of distaste flittered across her features. 

He was trying to remain as nonchalant as possible, knowing all too well that if he pushed too hard or looked too stern, Ellie would just defy him out of her own stubborn nature. He folded some blankets over the couch, eyes avoiding hers. “Just keep it open, Ellie.” 

She groaned in annoyance and threw her head back, hands falling to her sides. She looked truly exasperated, confused with this sudden change in house rules. 

That night, as the door remained cracked open, Joel walked by Ellie’s bedroom to sort some towels in the hallway closet. His ears picked up her frustrated tone; “…wants me to leave the door open now. Never heard of a rule as stupid as that, but whatever.” 

You giggled calmly, then fell silent for a second. “It’s okay. My mom has that rule too, for my brother and his girlfriend.” 

And he could almost hear the way Ellie’s face scrunched up, a confused groan escaping her again. She failed to reply, and the topic at hand was dropped as soon as you leaned over to her and showed her a page from a new comic, rambling on about how the plot hole in this series was diabolical. 

He silently walked away, mind wandering as he tried to think about how to approach this blooming situation, a flicker of both hope and protection illuminating in his chest. 

It was junior year of high school when the foundation of your friendship began to split, allowing something else to slip into it. Something sneaky, deceitful, something that constantly rendered you speechless and warm. 

You no longer rode your bikes or shared comic books; you were much too old for that now! Ellie had just gotten her license, a little too eager to drive Joel’s old beat up truck around with you in the passenger seat. And, of course, the both of you felt like true teenagers when you finally got phones.

You sat on Ellie’s bed, your knees pulled to your chest as you scrolled through your timeline. You giggled at random collages of pictures and videos, occasionally showing your screen to Ellie in hopes that she would laugh with you. 

She sat on the other end of the bed, a rolled joint held delicately in her fingers. Joel wasn’t home, and her bedroom door was closed. The walls of her bedroom trapped the both of you with the smell of it, but you were slowly learning to not mind it as much. 

When you first received a phone, you found yourself diving into social media, trying to keep up with this sudden boom of a new language, new jokes, new form of communication. Ellie, on the other hand, never touched her phone. If she was using it, it was probably because she was texting you. She refused to engage with any social media at all, meaning you had to sit and explain new jokes and trends to her. Sometimes, she’d try her hand at new lingo or an ongoing joke, but failed so miserably each time that you’d roll over her bedsheets in laughter. 

She pressed the joint to her lips, eyes lazy as she looked at you with longing. The brightness from your screen illuminated your face, emphasizing every beauty mark and freckle. 

“Hey,” she started, voice low. “C’mere.” 

You looked up at her in curiosity, putting your phone down. Your eyes stayed trained on her as you scooted closer, the sides of your legs pressing against hers. 

She wasn’t sure if it was the smoke or the way that you peered up at her that made the center of her body feel warm. She tilted her head away from you as she exhaled, the smoke clouding the space between you two; your heart thundered in your chest. 

“Almost done,” she promised, voice only a little raspy. “Missed you; that thing is hoarding all your attention.” The corners of her mouth twitched. 

“Is not!” you defended, shoving her shoulder with your own. “I’m right here.” 

“Yeah,” she began, her hand coming up to tap at your head playfully. “But you’re not here. Let’s do something; been wanting to play a few rounds of that old zombie game.”

It was how you end up pressed into each other’s sides, hollering and giggling at the tiny TV screen on her bedroom dresser. You played erratically, your fingers relying on nonsensical button smashing to survive. Ellie had to constantly revive you every five minutes, but never mentioned it. 

She missed the way you squealed in anticipation with every new round that started, your eyes wide as you spoke with a constant smile. And, maybe it was from her high, but she was a little too intent in the way that she watched you, her mind feeling far away as she memorized every crevice of your face from the side. 

“Ellie!” you scolded, bringing her out of her daze. “No way you already died, the round just started!” 

She turned her attention back to the screen, scoffing as her player screen was black and white, her character eye-level with the ground. 

“Damn,” she muttered, surprised that she let herself slack off for so long. Too lost in your side profile, the dip of your lips, the way your lashes fluttered in surprise when a zombie attacked you in-game. 

Your character raced towards her, shooting around sloppily before you pressed the buttons to revive her. Her hand found itself on the top of your thigh, right above your knee. Perhaps it was the fogginess of her mind, or a newfound boldness that spurts through her; but she squeezed at your leg, her eyes stuck on the screen. “Thanks,” she says a little too nonchalantly, like that was completely normal. 

You swallowed thickly, your own movements faltering. There was a red ring forming around your player screen, indicating that you were being ruthlessly attacked. 

She snickered, her voice playful. “Focus.” 

The two of you kept on, your mind instead slipping up and focusing a little too hard on the way she touched you. 

It was senior year when that particular, sneaky something begins to widen the cracks in your relationship. A feeling that blurred your vision, blurred your mind. A feeling that made it impossible to correctly decipher whatever it was that Ellie was going through, and the two of you began to fall apart. 

It mostly started when Ellie got a job at a skate shop. For the most part, it was relaxed, her days consisting of seeing the same people come and go for wheels and decks. But it meant that she had less time to spend with you. 

Initially, she would use every single day off to see you. To invite you over or to laze around on your fluffy duvet, listening to you ramble about your nervousness as graduation was approaching. She would take you out, spoil you rotten with the excitement of her new paychecks, saying fuck all to saving any money. 

And in reality, you didn’t care about the way she spoiled you; granted, it was nice and certainly made your heart beat a certain way, but you mostly valued that she made the effort to see you still. Exchanging silent words and looks across the classroom was no longer sufficing your yearning heart. 

Months passed and Ellie started to become a little bit more focused on balancing school and work; she was set on saving as college approaches, and you figured that the prospect of growing up had changed her. She was set on a college, set on astrophysics, set on buying Joel some land and maybe, hopefully, spoiling you some more in a few years down the line…

But she was maybe a little too caught up in it. She saw you less and less, accidentally channeling her friendly energy to her coworkers. And while you knew there was nothing wrong with that, you couldn’t help the bitter taste that rested on your tongue when she constantly brought up the names of others that you’d heard of countless times. A part of you wanted to turn to her, ask her so pathetically, why can’t you do the same with me?

You started to really feel like you were losing her when you finally got the chance to sit in her room again, the both of you babbling about what you think college will look like. At first, the comfort of her poster-covered walls and space trinkets settled your restless heart, and you had felt at home with her again. 

It wasn’t until she slipped away to use the restroom, leaving her phone on her bed. The screen illuminated as it buzzed once, twice— three times. You should’ve left it alone, thinking maybe it was Joel warning her he’d be late from work. But you leaned over anyway, reading over the text on the screen.

For one, it was a coworker. You recognized the name on the notification; and for some reason, when you realized it was from the only other girl at her workplace, a horrible feeling nestled into your stomach. 

And then you couldn’t help the minor feeling of betrayal as you realized they had been messaging each other on a social media platform; one of the many things Ellie swore up and down that she’d stay away from. 

You didn’t even follow her on there. She never told you. 

It’s silly, you thought. Ellie can do whatever she pleased. But this new turn of events, this tiny thing that was still so out of character; the foundation between you two felt almost completely severed. 

Weeks passed from that day and you them found yourself pulling away. The both of you were accepted into the same college, but you couldn’t even find it in yourself to feel excited. Ellie begged you to fill out your housing papers on time so that the two of you could be roommates, but you purposefully procrastinated. You weren’t sure you could handle such close proximity with her anymore. 

It was with this that the gap between the both of you widened. She didn’t drive you home anymore; it was time to put your own license to use. You two no longer exchanged knowing looks across the room, and you sure as hell didn’t share dinner with Joel anymore, either. You started to forget the exact layout of her bedroom. 

Graduation came and went; you spent it in solitude, not really counting the presence of your family members. Ellie did race up to you and gave you a bone crushing hug, nose burying into your hair, but you were so caught up in it all that you didn’t reciprocate it. 

It was another one of those minor things that widened the gap, made her step away from you both physically and emotionally. 

Even when Joel offhandedly mentioned that he’d be okay with helping you move into your dorm, Ellie made up some excuse on the fly; saying your brother had it covered. She hadn’t even asked you.

So, just like that, summer passed in a blink. You spent your days curled up in your bed, wallowing. Ellie spent it trying to distract herself, losing herself in the presence of coworkers-turned-close-friends. You shamefully stalked her social media, tears pricking at your eyes as she posted places and things that seem so fun, so far away. Places and things that you would’ve liked. 

What hurt more was the constant questioning from your family. Where’s Ellie? What’s she up to?

Hell if you knew. You’d been relying on her story highlights for snippets of her life, and even then they were still so vague. Scenery, music, her guitar. Someone else’s hands holding a deck of cards, videos with incessant giggling in the background. God, you were almost sickly with both wanting and loneliness. 

And, just like that, it was freshman year again. This time, there was no seating chart. No binder for you to slip comic book covers into. No comfort of hopping on your bike and riding home with the only person that matters at your side. 

You were in some sort of emotional purgatory. Your mind blank as you walked around campus, as you stared at your laptop screen in the dead of night, body aching as you slumped over and completed your coursework. The excitement and late nights that you and Ellie had planned were nowhere to be found. 

On the other hand, Ellie busied herself so much, she found that she almost forgot you. Almost. 

Burying herself into her homework, mind trying its hardest to wrap around these new concepts. Partying, though she wasn’t not really there. Smoking some, drinking some. It all still felt lonely. 

She was enjoying this new group of friends, but they didn’t amount to the certain someone that still had their shape, their initials carved into the center of her heart. It was almost unbearable to exist without you; the two of you blending into each other so well, she still found herself saying things the way you did— the intonation, the little lingo, the mannerisms. Your existence was embedded into her own, folding over into her psyche so compact-tight, she knew she could never escape you. 

Ellie assumed that now, at this point, it was about carrying you in her soul even though you were no longer around. The beauty of this life; she’d lost you, but not entirely. Your personality reflecting in her own no matter what, no matter how hard she tried. Her existence was a testament to your own— someone’s been here. Someone’s loved me. 

Weeks passed. Months passed. The both of you constantly shuffling across the same campus, yet never running into each other. Your text messages now buried underneath more recent threads, your shared playlist long forgotten and neglected. 

Winter break hit and the loneliness bit just as much as the cold. When Ellie returned home, she noticed her old bike in the garage, propped up against storage bins, the tires flat. When you returned home, you came back to photos of the both of you, pinned to your wall. Your breath stuttered in your throat as you took them down, throwing them into a box in your closet. 

At the same time, yet separately, the both of you traversed new grounds, and odd fucked up forms of grief. Being in your own space yet running into things that reminded you of someone that you wanted the most. And it wasn’t not like they were gone; yet the both of you let go, deciding that somehow, it was for the better. 

The cycle repeated as the seasons changed. Instead of actually moving on, the both of you just somehow got better at repressing your emotions and acting like nothing happened. Occasionally reflecting on your friendship in a daydream, and then reminding yourself that somehow, it just wasn’t meant to be. It was time to move on— she was never yours. 

It’s summer now, the end of junior year. Ellie’s at her friend’s place, sipping on a poorly made drink as they play card games and tune into a new season of a trending series. She’s cross-legged on the floor, smiling to herself as her friends talk over each other, slamming the cards down on the coffee table and trying to warp the rules in their own favor. It’s fun, and it’s easy to sit back and watch everything unfold. 

She feels her phone in her back pocket vibrating; assuming it’s Joel just checking up on her, she gets up and excuses herself, slipping out the back porch door. 

When she reaches for her phone, her heart nearly stops beating altogether. In fact, she’s sure it does, as her stomach suddenly twists in confusion and pain, a small cough leaving her lips as she tries to collect herself. Your name shines on her screen as you call, and she’s so sure she’s hallucinating (the hell was in that drink?) until she swallows her surprise and answers. 

And there you are. Breathless, exhausted. Immediately, she knows. Despite it being so long, despite the fact that she’s not entirely sure she knows you anymore, she still recognizes the tone in your voice, recognizes that you needed her. 

“Where are you?” she blurts before you can finish your sentence, her body automatically pacing around. “Send me the address.” 

You’re apologetic, sounding defeated on the other side. You tell her over and over again, I’m sorry.

There’s weight behind the way you say it, like you’re apologizing for something more. Like you’re counting all those times you shut her out, the times you let her slip through your fingers. It’s weak and shaky, but Ellie doesn’t bring it up. She’s too busy slipping on her shoes, keys dangling from her fingers as she mouths to her friends that she’ll see them later. 

She stays with you on the phone the entire time she drives over to get you. She asks, over and over again, if you’re okay and in a safe area, and your heart twists with guilt and shame. You stay planted on the edge of the curb, looking like a wilted flower.

Ellie feels her heart drop to her stomach as she approaches the street that you sit on, her headlights illuminating your pathetic figure. She rolls down the window and pulls over, calling out to you. 

Your eyes are low, the shame blatantly evident on your face. Ellie’s not sure how this will unfold; this isn’t exactly the way she dreamed the two of you would reunite. But that look on your face— Ellie knows it well enough. You’re both 15 again, and you’re trying to hide within your own body somehow. She sees the embarrassment, the bitter feeling that sits at the center of your chest. 

You approach her car and observe at her through the window, eyes avoiding her own. You study her form, how much she’s grown. She’s got a new haircut; it’s shorter— gayer. You can almost imagine yourself laughing at her, can almost imagine twirling the short pieces between your fingers. A patch of black ink catches your eye just then, your gaze landing on her forearm. Since when did she get a tattoo? 

She unlocks the door, silently beckoning you in. You slump into the passenger seat, completely defeated, and she reads your body language well enough to know not to pry at the situation. 

She shifts the car into drive but realizes that she doesn’t even know where you live anymore. The car sits there, idle as she tries to figure out what to ask you and how, then you mutter the directions to your apartment, reading her confusion just as well. 

The sound of Ellie’s music is quiet, practically just a gentle hum as the two of you sit, rigid as you keep your gazes locked on the road ahead. You don’t intend to explain yourself or have some sort of emotional come-to-jesus moment with Ellie, figuring that this situation alone is already stressful enough. 

But, she clears her throat and opens her mouth to speak, eyes still locked on the street signs. “You see the trailer for the new Savage Starlight adaptation?” 

You give her an awkward chuckle. “Yeah,” you say, nearly whispering. “Looked like trash, honestly.”

Ellie laughs at that. Laughs. And god, it’s not the kind of laugh that kills her, but it’s a solid one; an honest one. It sounds so good as it erupts from her chest, the sound of it pouring into your ears and over your heart. Christ. 

Your eyebrow twitches and you have to turn your head to look out the window— you can’t let her see the look on your face. You’re sure your eyes are wide and pooling with some sort of desperation. 

And, of course, Ellie catches it. But she just cares too much about you, so she lets all these little thing slip by to keep you comfortable, to keep you with her for even just a second longer. 

The conversation stays trained on little comments, acknowledging new video game releases and comic book trailers as if the both of you are in high school again, caught up in your nerdy obsessions. The air is thick and steady; the both of you dancing around this thinly-veiled attempt to be normal. The smallest things, such as the sound of her clearing her throat, or her hand coming up to scratch at her cheek, make your skin crawl with anticipation. 

You brace yourself for the ball to drop, holding it so tight to your chest, you’re almost suffocating. 

And while there’s no way you’ll drop this act, desperately clutching onto this feeling of faux normalcy, you know Ellie will. She’s much too blunt and forward focused to let you both sit in this awkward, paper-doll like scenario; steadily crafting your sentences, training your eyes to avoid her. 

And, god— it’s almost too easy to let your body relax, to slip back into your old comfortable patterns with Ellie right next to you. Because she’s never been prideful, and never will be, with the way she smiles to herself and breathes: “I missed you. It’s been… really long,” she says the last part with a bittersweet chuckle. “Too long.” 

Your chest caves. Stupidly, eagerly, almost like it wanted to, this whole time. Your body feels prickly and warm, but you school your face to remain somewhat neutral. 

“Yeah,” you offer dryly. “I’m kind of surprised, actually.” 

At that, Ellie tilts her head, fingers fluttering around the steering wheel. “How come?” 

“That, like, you even showed up. And you’re actually being nice and taking me home. I figured you kinda hated my guts towards the end.”

Ellie’s body has a physical reaction to that, and she taps on the brakes by accident. Not hard enough to send the both of you flying forward, but just enough of a push. You whip your head towards her, watching the way she furrows her eyebrows and shakes her head. 

“Sorry. Not trying to be defensive, but why…” She swallows thickly. “Why would you think that? And of me, of all people?”

She’s so, so gentle with the way she says it. Her voice quiet and low, not wanting to scare you away with this sudden confrontation. She reeks of true curiosity and something else that seems like hurt. 

“I just,” you start, trying to gather your words, then pause, not really recognizing where Ellie is driving. “Hold on. Where are you—?”

She pulls into an empty parking lot, stopping the car at an awkward angle, careless about her parking etiquette. 

“I’m sorry. I really just wanna clarify things,” she breathes out, her tone hurried as if you’ll slip and fade away if she doesn’t explain herself fast enough. “But, if you want me to completely fuck off, I’ll take you home. Just tell me.” 

You remain quiet, looking at her with a face that reads half anxious, half eager. A mix of the two, both emotions so similar in nature that maybe it kind of looks like… excitement. 

Ellie turns her body in her seat so that she can face you directly. “I was never tired of you, ever.” She takes in a slow, deep breath, trying to pace herself and keep her voice steady. With you, she can become passionate very quickly, so she needs to remain cool. “If anything, I thought that you felt that way about me. You stopped comin’ around, didn’t even try to room with me, and completely bailed on my attempts to see you. Did I do something?” 

She’s completely disarmed. Her words woven with nothing but good intentions, the look on her face desperate for some sort of reconciliation. She eyes you carefully, and if you looked hard enough, you may have been able to catch the glimmer of want in her eyes. 

Overcome with emotion, you fumble. Too busy with wanting to just defend yourself, swinging around your sword with your eyes shut in the hopes that you won’t get hurt, you don’t even try to match her energy. 

“Well, yeah,” you bite back, not nearly as careful as she was. “You changed. Everything changed. You made other friends, new friends, and just left me behind,” you accuse sharply, not thinking straight. “You… went behind my back.”

Despite the way that you speak to her, Ellie’s face softens. She knows what this is about. She’s too understanding, too willing to do anything to get you back in her life. As the realization slowly dawns on her, her heart flutters both with yearning and a deeper need. 

It’s how you end up pressed against the backseat of her car, her mouth on yours as her hands roam freely around your body. You shut up rather quickly, mind blurring over with the oncoming release of years of pent-up wanting. You tried to keep arguing back at her, and she did nothing but talk to you in that sweet tone, with eyes that scream I love you.

It isn’t that she’s trying to coax you, or anything. It just happened as you begin to increasingly realize that she is not going to fight you; she just wants you. She needs you to know that, she has to make herself clear. 

Fog creeps up the car windows as she presses her knee in between your legs, rocking against you slowly. 

Ellie’s pacing herself; she’s thought about this a few times, guiltily. But in her mind, it’s always been in her bed, her mind crafting the scene of your body, your little sounds. It was like she had to slap her own hand away from herself sometimes. 

So while this isn’t exactly what she had daydreamed it would be, she still wouldn’t complain. Regardless of the situation, you were pressed into her, panting and sighing in ways that made her mind turn to soppy mush, overrun with desire and emotion. 

And, while she’s set on taking care of you and showing you just how much you meant and still mean to her, she can’t help but want to make you admit it too. 

She pulls back from kissing you, her eyes glazed over as she looks at your face. Holy shit.

Skin so warm, and you already look spent. She swallows, suddenly doubting how long she’ll be able to hold off. 

She bites back a satisfied smile before she dips down again, her face hidden in the crevice between your neck and shoulder, kissing all the way down. 

“Take this off,” she murmurs, fingers pulling at the waistband of your skirt. You do your best to follow her orders, cramped up in the seat, pulling your knees towards yourself in an attempt to shimmy out of the fabric. It catches on your ankle, hanging, and you giggle at the state of the situation. Ellie’s heart melts over itself, beating erratically; she’s going fucking crazy. 

You’ve done nothing but moan, twitch, laugh, and flutter your lashes. She hasn’t even felt you yet, hasn’t even seen your body in its entirety. And she’s gone. 

She almost raises an eyebrow at the sight of your skimpy little underwear, but her question catches in her throat. You were at the club, after all. Something sinks in her stomach at the thought of anyone else seeing you like this, observing the way the fabric clings onto you. 

Her fingers massage at your inner thighs, her knee firm in place as she keeps them set apart. Her digits dance right against your core, pressing against the fabric. You twitch, rolling your hips into her, fingers catching on the seatbelt behind you, gripping on for life. She laughs, but not necessarily at you. 

It feels like it takes her years (well, technically) to push your panties to the side, eyes falling hazy as she stares right into you. You’re so vulnerable, you try shutting your thighs close, but she pushes them apart again. 

“I know,” she hushes you, dipping lower to nip at your lips. “I know.” 

Her fingers trace over your folds, and you think you’re about to explode. You hadn’t expected Ellie to be the type to make this agonizing and painful, but you know you probably deserve it after your showcase of attitude. 

She draws her hand back and brings her fingers up to her mouth, sucking on them nonchalantly. A satisfied sigh escapes her as she finally, finally gets to taste you on her tongue. She lets her hand travel back down, and you turn your head to the side, shutting your eyes in anticipation. 

“Look at me,” she commands softly, stopping her fingers right where you want her. 

You nod, giving her the false promise that you will. Ellie sees right through it, and with her free hand she gently grips onto your face, turning you to make eye contact with her. 

She needed to see your face as she fucked you, she needed to know, after so long of wondering, how you looked when facing pure pleasure. 

Your lashes flutter, eyebrows screwing together as she slips her fingers inside your warmth, pressing the heel of her palm against your clit. She’s gentle in the way she stretches you out, working you through it with such care and patience. 

Ellie revels in the way your chest heaves already, pupils blown out with bliss. She moves her knee and lets you shut your thighs together, trapping her hand in place. 

“This is all you needed, huh?” she teases, her voice only a little prickly, but her smile says otherwise. “For me to touch you like this.” 

You nod silently, too busy biting on your bottom lip and rocking your body onto her fingers to reply. 

“Answer me,” she demands with the same softness, setting the tone. Her gaze is locked onto your face, memorizing every twitch of your brow, every whine that leaves your lips. 

It’s almost ridiculous how brainless you are already, melting beneath her entirely. 

“Needed you,” you manage to breathe out, nodding your head again. “So bad.”

Ellie hisses a swear, and she can’t help the way she leans into you, pressing her body against yours. She curls her fingers inside of you, the palm of her hand nudging at your eager bud. She groans to herself as she feels your walls twitch around her digits, her head dropping low as if she has to stop herself from spiraling. She’s hanging on by a thread; a hair, wanting nothing more than to fuck you senseless. But it’s been too long, and she’s got something to prove to you. 

Her eyes shine as she feels your body grow tense, your wriggling becoming more constant. She slows down her pace, watching closely as your mouth drops, a pout playing at your lips. 

“Please,” you begin, and she smiles. 

“Please what?” 

“Please, fucking just,” you try grinding on her fingers, lashes fluttering. “Oh my god,” you sigh, that little attitude trickling in your tone. 

She scoffs, almost meanly. She stops her movements entirely, fingers falling slack in your pussy. “Yeah? Do it yourself, then.” 

And to her surprise, you do. That attitude is wiped clean from your voice as you whimper pathetically, body rolling, walls fluttering as you try to fuck yourself with her fingers. She stares at you in awe, throat running dry. 

It takes her a second, but she blinks and she’s falling back into you. Watching as you desperately chase your release, bumping your clit onto her hand, and you absentmindedly grab onto her arm, trying to anchor yourself. 

She sucks her teeth and sighs to herself. She had intended to drag this out, to make you beg, to make you say that you were hers all along. But with the way you hold onto her, shamelessly rutting your hips, her name falling off your lips like a prayer— she already knows it’s all true. 

She’s kind enough to start thrusting her fingers again, moaning at the way your slick bundles at your entrance, coating her fingers and slipping down her hand. It’s obscene, but she doesn’t care. In fact, it gives her more of a reason to clean you up afterward. 

“Ellie,” you breathe suddenly, your little prayers becoming less coherent as a certain feeling creeps around, engulfing your body and mind. “I’m gonna cum,” you whine shamelessly, the heat in your stomach spreading lower and lower, your body tingling. 

She leans over you again, watching over your face as your eyes slip shut. 

“Go ahead, baby. Let me hear you.” 

It’s a demand but she still says it so softly, a certain tenderness behind her words. You choke on your own moan, body practically seizing as your thighs tighten, fingers digging into her arm. You chant a repeated I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, and Ellie smiles as you do anyway, your cunt swallowing her fingers with your release. 

Her hand relentlessly slaps against your core, even though you begin to tear up and beg for her to stop. She smiles to herself before she slowly drags her fingers out of you, bringing them back up into her mouth. 

It’s not nearly enough. While you slump back into the seat, panting, body still shaky from such strong sensations, she’s busy maneuvering her body to sit on the floor of the car and propping your legs onto her shoulders. 

You blink as you slowly come back to reality, your mind hazy. 

“Ellie,” you start softly, reaching out your hand. 

She reaches up and intertwines your fingers, eyes locked on your dripping cunt as her voice carries over to your ears. “I’m right here. Can’t let it go to waste.” 

Your eyes roll back, another string of moans escaping you as Ellie shuts her eyes and latches onto your clit, moaning into your pussy. 

The hours of the night escape both of you, becoming lost in each other in the back of her car, cementing your fate. 

Ellie laughs at your blank expression, her hand rubbing down her face in disbelief. 

“That was so… garbage. Beyond garbage. Landfill levels of trash,” you say weakly, the soft lights of the movie theater reflecting off your face. 

She continues giggling at your side, hand over her mouth in an attempt to be quiet despite the fact that the movie is already over. 

You playfully swat at her arm, turning to her, face ridden with shock. “There’s no way you’re not disappointed! This shit was such a waste of money. We were better off pirating it.” 

She shakes her head and smiles to herself, hand wrapping around your own as she pulls you to stand up with her. “I think it was well worth it; it was, like, funny bad.” 

You stand, wrapping your arm around her own as you two trail down the steps of the theater. You continue picking the movie apart, disdain in your voice. You have a reason to be passionate; this lazy attempt at turning Savage Starlight into a box office success had taken a terrible turn, the movie filled with stupid one-liners and god awful acting. 

You should’ve known; it’s been a month since the trailer dropped— or, since you and Ellie came back together. A month of everything falling into place, the pieces of your individual lives slipping back into the way they used to be. A month of constant, whispered confessions, making up for lost time; lovelorn kisses, touches fueled by years of yearning. Pursuing your lives together again, and of course, falling back into your geeky little habits— the one thing that brought you together in the first place, anyway.

You shouldn’t have walked in with such high expectations after the both of you predicted how awful it was gonna be once you both sat down to rewatch the trailers together. 

As the two of you make it outside of the building, Ellie bites her cheek at the way you continue to ramble, the passion in your voice making her heart swell. There is just too much to adore about you. 

“Hey,” she starts, voice low. 

You raise your eyebrows. “What?”

Ellie nods her chin in the direction of her car, mischief written all over her face. “I know a way to give you a happy ending.”

You groan in annoyance, pushing her away. Your voice rings out and into her ears, settling her restless heart as you scold her, a smile showing through.

“Ellie!”

[punkshort]

Red Lace & Holiday Cheer

Thank you anon for this prompt!

Pairing: (ex)pornstar!joel miller x f!reader (established relationship)

Summary: While visiting him at work, you decide to give Joel his Christmas present early.

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, fingering, reader wears lingerie

WC: 4K

Roommates Masterlist

The bar was loud.

It was three days before Christmas. Students on break from college had come home to visit their families for the holidays but the first chance they got, they made plans to connect with friends they hadn't seen since summer. The entire street was packed with twenty-something year olds, every bar was filled to the brim, including the one Joel owned.

You had helped him decorate it for the holidays just two weeks prior. A small Christmas tree with chunky, multi-colored lights sat in the front. Twinkling white lights framed each large window and a garland was wrapped around the door. You even managed to find a spot for a couple large wreaths above the bar.

From your spot on the dance floor with Maria, you could just barely see Tommy's head. He was pouring drinks as fast as possible, hardly giving himself a chance to breathe. Surprisingly, Joel was no where to be found. If you had to guess, he was either bringing up a keg or doing his rounds on the floor, checking in with patrons and seeing if they needed anything while also keeping an eye out for trouble makers.

He had really grown into the role as a bar owner. It seemed like the perfect fit after he had quit the adult film industry. Not only was he his own boss, but he got to work with his brother. Your only complaint was the long nights, although you and Maria tried to frequent the bar at least once a week to see them while they worked. Typically, there was plenty of time to talk, but the week of Christmas had the bar feeling like more of a nightclub.

"Where's Joel?" Maria shouted over the music. You fanned your sweaty chest with your hand and scanned the crowded room.

"I don't know! Don't think I've seen him all night!" you yelled back. You checked the time and frowned. You always saw him at least once, even when it's busy, before midnight. He always sought you out, no matter what. You turned back to Maria with a look of concern.

"I'm gonna go see if I can find him!"

She nodded and gave you a thumbs up before turning her back, still swaying along with the music.

You pushed your way through the crowd, making a face when drunk frat boys or some familiar looking locals who were trying their luck with the college girls accidentally bumped into you. After what felt like an eternity of almost getting beer sloshed down your bright red dress from clueless patrons, you finally bellied up to the bar. You leaned over the edge of the wood, catching Tommy's eye. He nodded in your direction and you sat back on your heels as you waited for him to finish up at the other end of the bar.

"What you need, sugar?" Tommy yelled over the noise. Your gaze flickered down to his cheesy Christmas shirt and grinned.

"Is that thing getting you any extra tips?"

He shook his head and you laughed. "Nah, but it's fun. Tryin' to get into the spirit!"

"It was Maria's idea, wasn't it?" you yelled.

"Hundred percent!" he shouted back. You heard others off to your right trying to get his attention so you cut to the chase.

"Where's Joel?"

"Office! He was on the phone with some vendor last I saw 'em."

You nodded and shot him a thumbs up before you began your second journey, although mercifully it was shorter. His office was just down a short hallway behind the bar. Still, the crowd was thickest and rowdiest right where you were trying to walk. You had almost made it unscathed when you heard a curse and felt a splash of some cold liquid down your arm.

"Shit!" you exclaimed. You began to flick your arm of any excess when a young man's voice shouted out to you.

"I'm sorry!" he slurred, but when you looked up and your eyes locked, a slow smirk stretched across his face. He couldn't have been more than twenty-two, surrounded by his buddies who were giving him little shoves in your direction. He took a few steps forward and held out his hand.

"I'm Chris," he offered. "Lemme buy you a drink, make it up to you."

His eyes slithered up and down your body, clearly appreciating the short red Christmas dress you had chosen to wear that night.

"Thanks, but I'm fine," you said, giving him a wave and turning back towards the bar. He tapped your shoulder and you swiveled around.

"C'mon, it's the least I could do. Almost ruined that gorgeous dress of yours," he tried while licking his lips.

You sighed and crossed your arms.

"I'm dating the guy who owns this place. I can drink for free," you snapped, patience growing thin when you added, "And have anyone thrown out."

Chris whistled and rose his hands in defeat.

"Alright, suit yourself."

He backed away towards his friends and you made quick work of pushing through the remaining crowd to get back behind the bar. The moment you stepped foot in the small hallway, it already felt calmer. You sashayed a little drunkenly past the breakroom and employee bathroom before stopping at the closed door at the end of the hall that had a stocking hanging from it with Joel's name painted in glitter. With excitement tingling under your skin, you rapped your knuckles softly against the wood and pressed your ear against the door.

"It's open!"

The old door squeaked on its hinges when you opened it and slipped inside, smiling when you saw Joel hunched over his desk, scribbling something on an invoice. His office wasn't much to look at; dingy old laminate floors, a desk that looked like it was from the seventies, two tall file cabinets that were overflowing and shoved in a corner, and one measly light above your head that had one bulb burnt out. But it was peaceful. It was quiet. And by that point, it reminded you of Joel. His cologne hung in the air, even when he hadn't been in the room for hours. On top of one filing cabinet was a decorative Christmas tree and on the back of his door was a wreath, both of which you put in there when he wasn't paying attention.

He finally looked up and you saw the tension instantly drain from his face when he saw it was you.

"Hey," he said softly, dropping his pen so he could stand to greet you, chair groaning from the loss. He rounded the desk and pulled you into his arms. Your mouths sought each other out like magnets and you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck with a contented sigh when you finally felt his lips on you once again.

"Where have you been?" you pouted, gazing up at him while still hanging around his neck. His hands flattened against your back, the material of your dress bunching a little and exposing your legs even more.

"Been busy workin'. Sorry, darlin'. Lost track of time," he told you, but his eyes were drifting down your dress. "You been here this whole time wearin' this thing?"

"What? You don't like it?" you teased.

Joel scoffed and shook his head. "Like it a little too much. What's the occasion?" He finally dragged his eyes back up to meet yours.

"The occasion is it's Christmas," you said while your fingers began to fiddle with the short hairs on the back of his neck.

"Christmas ain't for a few more days."

"Well, maybe I wanted to give you your gift early," you smirked. Joel groaned in the back of his throat and pulled you closer so your body was pressed tightly against his. You began to pepper kisses along his neck, pausing when you reached his pulse to whisper, "Unless, that is, you're too busy."

"Lock the fuckin' door," he said lowly. A shiver rolled down your spine and you spun out of his hold to do exactly as he asked.

"Can't just wait, huh?" Joel scolded while he undid his belt and dropped it to the floor. You bit your lip, heart skipping excitedly in your chest as you backed up towards his desk. You stopped when you felt the edge press into the backs of your thighs and grinned.

"Sorry. I just thought you'd really want to open it now." You reached one arm behind you and slowly tugged at your zipper. Joel's eyes darted to lock onto the movement while his hands worked on opening his pants. You could tell he was loving every second of your little show. His lips were parted, breath coming in short pants, and his neck was already growing flush.

When your dress felt loose, you knew you reached the end of the zipper. Your chest heaved with anticipation before finally wiggling out of your dress and letting it fall to your feet.

You weren't lying. You really did have something for him under your clothes, although scraps of material like a see-through red teddy with a plunging neckline was difficult to define as anything substantial.

His eyes immediately bugged out of his head.

"Oh, Christ," he choked out. You giggled, pleased to have taken him by surprise. You hardly ever had the upper hand in the bedroom, not with the experience he brought by being an ex-pornstar, but on that day, you did.

His face paled when he saw your body in that teddy. Well, considering how much skin he could actually see through it, it hardly felt like you were wearing much at all, but Joel didn't seem to see it that way. He was absolutely hypnotized, completely unable to look away. His eyes greedily raked over every inch of you and you smiled to yourself when you realized he hadn't even yet noticed the panties you were wearing were crotchless.

"You like it?" you asked when his gawking had gone on long enough. You twirled so he could see the back, his throat bobbing when he saw the way your ass was exposed in your barely there panties. Joel forced his eyes up when you stood before him expectantly, feeling so excited and nervous that you had to bounce from foot to foot.

"You look beautiful," he finally whispered. You grinned and reached out both hands for him, laughing a little when he stumbled over his own feet to join you. As thrilled as you were to throw Joel off his game, it incited something deep within you when he took control again. He crowded you against his desk and dragged his hands fucking everywhere. Down your arms, over your stomach, across your back, feeling the lacy material under his big hands. And only when one hand cupped your breast and the other reached down to squeeze your ass did your own breath get stolen away.

"You're a bad girl," he murmured against the shell of your ear. Your eyelids fluttered closed as heat pooled between your legs, torturous and aching. "Wearin' this all night while I sat back here fightin' on the phone 'bout goddamn shipping rates?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth but it quickly melted into a gasp when his teeth pinched your skin, right under your ear.

"Joel," you moaned his name, tipping your head back while his mouth dragged down the column of your throat. You reached between your bodies, fingers searching for the inevitable bulge you knew you would find, and smiling to yourself when you felt his cock jump under your touch.

"Gonna let me fuck you?" you heard him ask. His lips trailed across your collarbone to begin their ascent up the opposite side of your neck. "Right here? In the back of a dirty bar?"

"I'd let you fuck me anywhere," you rasped, hopping up onto his desk and spreading your legs. He stepped between your knees, face buried against your throat and hips pressing stubbornly against your center as he continued to leave red marks across your chest and neck. He chuckled, the vibration from his voice sending shockwaves from your pulse point to the bottom of your stomach.

"Gonna hold you to that one day."

You were in a lust filled haze, completely absorbed with the way Joel kissed you, deep and messy and urgent, to notice when his hand traveled lower. His fingertips grazed between your legs, right where a thin strip of fabric should have been, but to his shock and delight, found nothing except your bare, leaking pussy.

"Fuck me," he groaned, leaning back to get a good look. He swiped his thumb through your slit and you whimpered, causing his dark eyes to snap up to yours with a deadly smirk.

"You liked this, huh?" His fingers spread your folds while your arms began to shake, propped up behind you and ready to collapse. "You liked dancin' around in that short dress, knowin' this soft little pussy was naked under there, waitin' for me to fuck her?"

"Mhm," was all you could muster. Not a single word could be formed in that moment when his middle finger prodded at your opening, testing you, before sinking inside. You tossed your head back with a shaky moan and spread your legs wider, encouraging him to continue, to give you more.

You could only imagine how you looked in that moment; elbows holding you up with your head hanging back between your shoulders in bliss, legs spread wide while wearing slutty Christmas lingerie across his desk as music thumped steadily through the walls. However it looked, though, was worth the hungry way Joel stared down at you with his hand working slowly between your thighs, one thick finger curling but purposely not touching the spot that made you come undone.

Your hips wiggled as you tried to chase his hand, desperate for him to give you what you needed, but he held you down, stilling your movements.

"Quit it."

"Joel," you whined, but he shook his head.

"This is my gift, remember?" he tutted.

He pulled out his finger and you huffed, frustrated. With heavy lidded eyes, you watched him pop the finger that was just inside of you into his mouth. He made a satisfied noise while reaching inside his pants. The second he pulled out his cock, your eyes drifted down and watched as he slowly stroked himself up and down.

You should have been used to him by then, but it never failed to send a wave of nerves through you when you saw the sheer size of him, something that served him very well in his old career and now something only you benefitted from.

One of his hands planted itself at your hip when he came to stand between your legs and he began to drag the tip of his cock through your arousal. You sighed and went to lay down flat across his desk, but he stopped you.

"Nuh uh. Want you to watch," he muttered. You caught his eye and your heart flipped in your chest at the look he gave you. You swallowed tightly and gave him a brief nod, confirming you would do as he asked. Then and only then did he drop his gaze to between your legs, spreading your lips with his thumbs to make room for the thick head of his cock to rest at your opening.

You watched together as he pressed forward ever so slightly, just barely kissing your pussy before pulling back entirely. He did it again and when he shifted back a second time, you gave him a pathetic little whine. His eyes darted back up to yours and he grinned.

"Be patient."

"C'mon, Joel... it's Christmas," you pouted. He chuckled, his stern facade fading, and shook his head.

"Alright," he breathed, and half a second later jut his hips forward, feeding you half his length in one pass. You gasped sharply and fell backwards onto his desk, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

He cursed under his breath, dragging himself back until just his tip remained sheathed inside you, then pushed forward once again, but that time he gave you every devastating inch of his impressive cock. You both gasped, sucking all the air out of the room with your heavy, quick panting as you each struggled to adjust.

"Goddamn," he murmured. Your eyes were squeezed shut, mouth agape as you focused on the stretch, but you pried them open so you could confirm he was just as wrecked as you felt.

"Oh, honey, you look fuckin' beautiful like this." His eyes were fixated on where you were connected, where red lace framed your exposed cunt. His dark eyes snapped up to yours when he very seriously added, "We're gonna get alotta use out of this gift, baby."

"That was the idea," you giggled breathlessly. There was a loud cheer through the walls when the song changed. It sounded like a bunch of guys right up against the bar, just twenty or thirty feet away who had no idea you were about to get fucked within an inch of your life.

"Good song," Joel said casually. He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly began to rock his hips. Your mind went quiet, not a single thought drifting through your head except for how good it felt when he bottomed out inside you.

He was gentle at first. He knew he was alot to take so he always started with shallow thrusts, paying close attention to your cues. When your thighs relaxed and your breathing evened out, that was when he began to give it to you faster. Harder. Deeper. It was only a few minutes until his hips slammed into yours so forcefully that it had your back arching and your hand scrambling to hold onto the edge of the desk above you.

"Fuck - fuck - fuck," he huffed, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips. You whined and squirmed across the desk, trying to catch your breath. One of Joel's hands pressed flat against the desk for leverage, the other roughly gripped your waist to hold you steady, and his eyes remained fixated on the way your body stretched to accommodate his size. Every single time, it amazed him.

A loud knock came from the door. Your eyes locked, his hips slowed, and you shook your head. You mouthed the word don't. He made a face but acquiesced, then continued to fuck you, just slower and quieter. A second loud knock came and an annoyed Tommy yelled out, "Joel? C'mon, man, we need more Coors."

"Have fuckin' Steve do it, I'm busy!" he shouted back. You scowled then stifled a moan when he ground himself against you, rubbing your clit with the coarse hairs at the base of his shaft.

"Steve's on break!"

Joel snarled and reared back, grabbing the underside of both your knees and tugging you close.

"Gimme five minutes!" he yelled, voice only slightly giving away your compromising position when it cracked near the end of his sentence.

"Five?" you whispered with a disappointed look.

"Ten! Ten minutes!"

Finally you heard Tommy grumble under his breath and retreat back down the hall.

"I'll make you come in five minutes," Joel panted with a cocky grin. He began to pummel into you harder once again, picking up right where he left off. "Wanted to bend you over and come all over that perfect ass, but I'll save that for next time."

You groaned and tilted your chin to the ceiling as you felt that familiar tightness begin to pull low in your belly. Joel shifted, adjusting the way he was standing between your legs, and you cried out when the tip of his cock began to stroke against that spot that had you seeing stars. Blindly, you reached out to hold onto something, but only ended up scattering unpaid invoices and receipts onto the floor.

Words failed you. Heat flared deep inside, bright hot flames roaring to life in mere seconds that had your muscles going rigid and your spine curling off the desktop. There was no warning. There was nothing you could do except give into the intense pleasure as you choked on your words.

"Oh, shit," Joel grunted, hand reaching between you to rub firm circles over your clit. "S-shit, you're gonna come," he gasped right as your cunt clamped down around him. You wailed out a broken version of his name, legs trembling around his waist. He quickly fell forward, his body covering yours, and your lips connected in messy, wild kisses. Seconds later and with a deep groan echoing inside your mouth, Joel came, filling you with his thick, hot release until his cock stopped twitching and a shudder shot through his entire body.

You whimpered Joel's name and that was when he realized you were shaking violently. With his chest still heaving, he propped himself onto his elbows and slid his cock from between your legs before gathering you up in his arms and holding you close, enveloping you with his warmth.

"I got you," he murmured over and over into your hair. You nodded weakly, head still buzzing and hands still shaking. Slowly, your eyes reopened. Your pulse began to slow and your breaths grew deeper each time you pulled in air. You nuzzled your face into his shoulder, sighing from the comforting strokes of his hand over your back.

"You okay?" he asked after a few quiet minutes. You nodded and took a deep breath, the scent of his cologne mixing with his deodorant calming your frayed nerves even more.

"That was... intense," you whispered, lips searching for his throat. Joel continued to soothingly rub your back.

"You did so good, baby."

You smiled and nipped gently at his skin. "Did you enjoy your present?"

Joel's chest rumbled with a soft chuckle before he responded.

"This little number was a beautiful gift, but I don't need any of it, you know that, right?" he asked. "All I want is you."

"Are you saying that all you want for Christmas is... me?" You grinned when you leaned back to look up at him hazily. Joel laughed at your corny joke and cupped your face with both his hands to pull you in for a tender kiss.

"Yeah," he murmured against your lips. "Man can't ask for much else when he's already got everythin' he needs in one perfect little package."

You wrapped your arms around his neck as your cheeks warmed from his compliment. "I love you," you told him earnestly. Every time he heard those words, it made him smile.

"I love you, too."

Right when he leaned down for another kiss, a loud knock cracked against the door.

"Joel! The Coors!"

"God-fuckin'-" Joel grumbled before shouting, "I'm comin' right now! Jesus Christ!"

His eyes found yours and he gave you an apologetic look.

"You gonna be alright? Just gimme a few minutes-"

"I'm good," you told him with a firm nod, then gave his chest a little shove, pushing him towards the door. "Go. You have a bar to run."

He tucked himself back into his pants with a hiss and swiveled around before locating a box of tissues and handing them to you.

"Lock the door after I leave. This," he dragged his finger up and down in the air, indicating your skimpy lingerie, "is just for me to see."

"Yes, sir," you giggled with your legs still dangling over the edge of his desk. He shook his head in disbelief and fixed his shirt before disappearing out into the hallway.

Slowly, you cleaned yourself up as best you could and fixed the teddy before slipping your dress back on, concealing your little secret once again. You had your hand on the doorknob, poised to leave, when a thought occurred to you. Quickly, you shimmied your panties down your legs and hurried behind his desk to drop them in one of his drawers. You smiled proudly to yourself and headed back towards the door, already planning what new set you should surprise him with for Valentine's Day.

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[kezzanza]

EARNED IT.

Pairing: Jude x Girlfriend ! Reader Tags: Celebratory Sex, Established Relationship Word Count: 3.6k Content Warning: Smut, 18+ Jude celebrates winning his fifth trophy, the Super Cup, by fucking you.

Sex with Jude is amazing.

His strong body moves in harmony with yours, knowing exactly how to touch you to make you shiver with pleasure. His possessive gaze leaves no room for doubt or inhibition, piercing into yours, as if he could read your every desire and need. Each touch, each caress, each time he enters you, it’s as if he is claiming you all over again.

But after Jude wins a trophy, the sex is heavenly.

Jude strides to the edge of the pitch, a victorious beast of a man, his muscles rippling and damp with the sweat of triumph. He pulls you into an embrace, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he holds your body. 

His eyes lock onto yours, you know what’s coming, you can see it in his gait, the way he moves like a predator—the rough post-win sex is as much a part of the win as the trophy itself.

You wouldn’t want it any other way—submitting to Jude after watching him dominating the game.

The ride home crackles with electric tension as Jude drives you back to his place. Every glance and fleeting touch hint at something known but unspoken between you. The air is thick with charged silence, each second drawing you closer to the inevitable passion you will share.

You step through the door of Jude’s luxurious penthouse, feeling as if the energy from the stadium still pulses through your veins. Jude, your boyfriend, the star of the game, is behind you, his presence a palpable force.

The door slams shut, and without a word, he spins you around in the entryway. The yellow light from the pendant above casts sharp shadows across his face. The warm glow highlights the contours of his cheekbones and the square jaw that had been clenched in determination just moments ago.

His strong arms, wrapping around your waist, feel grounding. Your heart races as his gaze roams over you. His eyes burn with a fiery intensity that surpasses the passion that you saw in him on the pitch.

“You've been my lucky charm tonight,” he says, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. 

You had been there through every moment—caring for him after training and encouraging him before the game. Your heart had raced in rhythm with the roaring crowd as he helped his team to victory. Pride surged through you when he was named ‘Man of the Match,’ especially as you wore his jersey—one he had personally given you—with his name written on your back.

Now, here you were, alone with him as the city lights twinkle below like a sea of stars. You step closer, your hands reaching up to cup his face, feeling the rough stubble against your palms. 

“You were amazing.” you say, your voice soft yet filled with emotion.

Jude’s gaze turns intense, his eyes locked on yours with a dominant, smoldering heat. 

“I dedicated that performance to you,” he whispers, his voice low and deep. “You deserve a prize for all your support.” 

His hands pull you flush against him, his body warm and solid against yours. His gaze is like a predator's stare, and you feel yourself being pulled into his world—a world of raw, unfiltered desire. He leans in, capturing your lips in a short, hungry kiss that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

“When the whistle blew, all I could think about was you,” he confesses. “How I wanted to celebrate with you.”

Your heart races, overwhelmed by his words and the intensity in his eyes. 

“I need you, Jude,” you breathe out. “I need to feel you.”

His hand is warm and firm as it wraps around yours, leading you through the entryway. You follow closely behind him, trying to keep up with his brisk pace, anticipation building with every step. 

The kitchen is a stark contrast to the bright entryway you've just left behind. It’s bathed in only the dim glow of under-cabinet lighting. 

Upon reaching, he presses you against the hard surface of the island, his body looming over you. The coolness of the marble island seeps through your jeans, a stark contrast to the heat emanating from his body. 

Jude's hand rests gently on the small of your back, drawing you closer as he leans in for another kiss. You wrap your arms around his shoulders. His other hand lingers at your hips, tracing the curve of it before sliding up under your jersey.

His warm fingers brush against your skin, making you gasp softly. The kiss deepens, and you can't help but melt into him, his heat seeping into your very soul. The sound of your breaths mingling fills the space between you, the only noise in the otherwise quiet kitchen. 

His hands roam further, exploring the contours of your body, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of you. You're lost in the moment, in the feeling of his fingertips all over you. 

Jude's hands trail down your torso. His fingers undo the button of your jeans. He lowers the zipper, the sound echoing in the room.

With surprising gentleness, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your jeans and begins to tug them down. You feel the roughness of the denim give way as gravity takes over, pulling the fabric down to your ankles. 

You lift one leg and then the other, helping him as he guides your jeans over your ankles, clinging to him as he drops the garment on the floor behind him.

Now, you are left in just your soft pink underwear and the jersey with his name on the back. His eyes darken as he took in the sight of you, his hands gently caressing your bare thighs. You look up into his eyes and feel yourself melting under his gaze. 

“Kneel for me baby,” he commands, his voice a low sound that sends shivers down your spine.

Slowly, you obey, lowering yourself to your knees, hitting the cold black tiles with a soft thud. Looking up at him, you see the mix of triumph and hunger in his eyes, a look that both terrifies and excites you. 

His hands reach into his shorts. The air is thick with tension, the kind that makes it hard to breathe. He pulls out his long and thick erection with practiced motions. His eyes never leave yours as he strokes himself, watching the play of emotions across your face—lust and need. 

His cock, thick and hard, is a testament to his desire for you. You reach out to touch the warm length of him, feeling his pulse throb against your fingertips. You lick your lips, the hunger in his gaze making your heart race and your breath catch in your throat. 

“Open your mouth,” he orders, his tone offering no refusal.

His hand slides into your hair, gripping gently but firmly, guiding your head forward. Jude groans, his head falling back as you stroke him, your fingers feeling the texture and the shape of him. You lean in, your lips brushing the tip, tasting him—the salty flavor ignites a fire within you.

His grip on your hair tightens just a fraction, a silent demand that sends a thrill of excitement down your spine. 

Finally, you do as he says, letting your mouth fall open. He presses the head of his erection on your tongue. You close your mouth around him, your tongue exploring the familiar contours of his length. His hands guide your movements as his breath comes out in rough groans. 

The taste of him fills your mouth and you find yourself lost in the sensation of sucking him. Your own need rises with each passing second, the fabric of your panties becoming damp with desire. 

“Fuck, yes,” he growls, one of his hands gripping the counter as you take him into your mouth.

He’s huge, filling your mouth, stretching you, but you revel in it. His hips moved with a slow, steady rhythm that built with each passing moment. Your tongue swirls around him. Your lips are tight as you move up and down his length. 

His hips thrust forward quicker, pushing deeper into your throat. You suck harder, taking him deeper, eager to submit to all of him, to be the source of his pleasure and release. Jude’s groans fill the room, and you know he's close, his body taut with the tension of release.

Suddenly, he pulls out, his eyes dark with lust. “Not yet baby,” he says, when he sees your confusion. “I need you cumming on my fingers first.”

The intensity of his gaze is overwhelming, igniting a fire that burns through you. You stand up, your lips finding his lips in a deep kiss. His tongue slides against yours. It’s a gentle yet demanding exploration that makes your knees weak.

Your hands reach for the hem of his jersey, slowly lifting it over his head. His skin was taut with muscle, evidence of the hours he spent on the field. You traced the lines of his chest, your fingers trailing the waistband of his briefs. You push them down and let them pool on the floor, leaving his muscular body bare.

His abs ripple with every breath he takes. The contours of his muscles tell tales of countless practices and games won. The light dusting of hair on his body travels from his chest to the V that points to his hips. 

As the heat between you escalates, Jude's hand slides down your body, tracing the contour of your waist before dropping lower. His fingertips graze the waistband of your pink panties.

His eyes never leave yours as he says, "I love how you look in these," His voice is low and gruff with desire, sending shivers down your spine. “So innocent, yet so fucking tempting.”

You can feel your wetness seeping through the fabric, a silent declaration of your arousal. His fingers cup you through your underwear, his possessiveness making you ache for more, leaving you moaning breathlessly.

"Do you know how long I've been waiting to touch you?" he whispers, the question hanging in the air like a promise.

With a slow, deliberate movement, he hooks his thumb under the waistband, sliding it down and letting the fabric pool at your feet. Your gasp softly, unable to form words as his fingers finally make contact with your slick folds. 

He groans at the wetness he finds. You can see his cock straining against his stomach, eager to join the intimate dance his fingers have started. 

With the lightest of strokes, Jude's thumb grazes over your clit, sending a bolt of pleasure shooting through you. You moan, your knees buckling slightly, and he steadies you with his other hand on your waist, holding you in place as his thumb starts to circle with increasing pressure. 

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. “So wet just for me.”

Each pass over your clit sends waves of desire crashing through your core. You can't help but arch into his touch. He watches your reaction with hungry eyes and you know he's just getting started.

“I love seeing my name on you.” Jude admits, removing his fingers from your wet core. “But right now, I need to see you naked.”

Jude gently tugs at the hem of your jersey. You lift your arms as the fabric glides over your head, revealing the contours of your body. 

Then, his lips are on you, making you gasp as he finds that sensitive spot on your neck. His hands move to your back, his fingers deftly finding the clasp of your bra, which yields to his touch with a soft click. 

The cool air hits your bare skin. It is quickly replaced by the heat of his mouth as he bends down and his tongue flicks over your nipple, making you arch into him. His hands cup your other breast, thumbs teasing your sensitive nipples into peaks. You arch into him, a soft moan escaping your lips as he continues his exploration.

“Jude,” you gasp, your hands threading through his hair, holding him closer.

He moves his mouth to your other breast, his actions deliberate, each kiss, each nibble building the tension inside you. You could feel the ache low in your belly, a throbbing need that demanded release.

Jude seemed to sense it, his hand sliding down your body, his fingers finding where you  are already wet and ready. He doesn't ask for permission; he simply knows. You moan, your head falling back as two of his fingers worked into you. 

He moves slowly, deliberately. His fingers slide in deeper, filling you in a way that makes you feel vulnerable. Your breathing quickens, your pulse races, and you know that tonight will be one of those nights you never want to end. 

His hands move expertly, finding your g-spot, his fingers building the pressure inside you. He seems to know exactly how to touch you, how much pressure to apply, and when to slow down or speed up. You gasp, your body arching towards his touch, your mind consumed by the pleasure he's giving.

"You like that?" he whispers, his voice a seductive growl in your ear.

You can only moan, your words lost in the whirlwind of sensation. His fingers delve deeper, hitting that sweet spot, and you feel the orgasm building, a wave threatening to crash over you. 

"Look at me," he commands, his voice thick with desire.

You obey, your eyes locking with him. He watches you, his expression a mix of tenderness and raw passion. The sight of him, so focused, so intent on your pleasure, pushes you over the edge. 

You cry out, your body trembling as your orgasm sweeps through you, leaving you breathless and weak. Your mouth forming a perfect 'O' of pleasure. Your breasts heaving with each panting breath you take.

But Jude isn't done. 

He spins you around you, bending you over the counter, his body pressing against yours. You feel his hot breath on the back of your neck, his hands firmly gripping your hips as he pulls you closer.

He whispers in your ear, "You're mine," his voice a seductive growl that sends a thrill through your body.

Your heart races with anticipation, the room filled with the sweet scent of desire. He whispers your name, the sound sending shivers down your spine. You lean into his touch, as his mouth trails kisses along your neck, sending waves of pleasure that mingle with the lingering tremors of your climax. 

You can feel his arousal pressing against your backside, insistent and demanding. His hands roam over your body, caressing every inch of your exposed skin, leaving a trail of fire wherever he touches. You arch your back, pushing yourself closer to him, silently begging for more. 

The head of his cock nudges against your wetness, seeking entry, and you gasp as he slides into you with one smooth, powerful thrust. 

The sensation is overwhelming, and you bite your lip to keep from screaming out his name. Your hands clutch the counter for support as he begins to move, his rhythm slow and deliberate, savoring every moment. 

Each stroke fills you completely, stretching you to the brink of pleasure and pain. You know that he's holding back, keeping you poised on the edge, and the thought of what's to come makes your stomach flutter with excitement. 

His grip tightens, and he pulls you back into him, increasing his pace, driving you towards another peak. You're lost in the sensation, the world around you fading away until there's only the two of you and the passion that fuels your every move. 

Your breath hitches, and you moan, unable to hold back the sounds of pleasure that spill from your lips. Jude's breathing is ragged in your ear, his own passion evident in every pant and groan. You feel him swell inside of you, and you know that he's close. 

You want to feel him let go, to be the one to push him over the edge. So, you push back into him, matching his rhythm, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. The tension builds, coiling tighter and tighter, until you hear him groan, filling you with his release. 

You feel the intense, almost painful pleasure of your second orgasm wash over you, as if the first one wasn't enough to satisfy the ravenous beast that Jude has awoken within you. 

Your muscles clench around him, milking every drop, leaving you both panting and trembling. You rest against the countertop, your body feeling like a deliciously stretched canvas of sensation, pulses of pleasure still rippling through you from your last two orgasms. 

Your eyes are heavy, and the room is a warm, soft blur. You're about to drift into a peaceful post-coital slumber when Jude's voice, thick with desire, brings you back to reality. 

“Come on baby,” he whispers, his voice edged with a hunger that hasn't yet been satiated. “Just one more round.”

The way he says it, the promise in his voice, makes you want to give in. He kisses you then, a kiss that starts out as a gentle request and quickly escalates into a passionate demand, his tongue coaxing yours into a dance that leaves you breathless. 

His hand finds your waist, his touch rekindling the embers of desire that you thought had faded. You feel yourself respond, your body arching into him despite your earlier exhaustion. He notices, his grin growing as he kisses you harder, deeper. 

“You're still with me, aren't you?” he murmurs, his voice a seductive purr.

You nod, your breath still ragged, your body humming with the remnants of pleasure. He smiles, a genuine smile, and you feel a surge of love for this man— passionate and who wears his heart on his sleeve, especially after a win.

And with that, he lifts you up, placing you on the counter, his body fitting between your open legs.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he commands, his voice back to its rough, dominant tone.

You do as he says, your legs locking around his waist. Your hands reach for his shoulders, guiding him to you as he positioned himself at your entrance. 

He pushes inside you again, filling you inch by inch until you are stretched around him, full and tight, his hands firmly gripping your thighs. 

“You feel so good,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours as he paused, letting you adjust to him.

You moan in pleasure, wincing at the soreness. “Fuck me,” you urge, your voice a husky command.

He does, his hips pulling back before thrusting forward, a steady rhythm that builds with each passing moment. Your body arches into each thrust, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

Your muscles quiver with each of his powerful thrusts, a delicious reminder of the two orgasms that have already claimed you. He's relentless, his eyes dark with need, as he drives into you, his rhythm unyielding despite your protests of exhaustion. 

Each stroke feels like a battle between pain and pleasure, your body a canvas for his hunger.

He whispers, “Come on, baby, just one last time,” his voice thick with lust, and you know he won't be satisfied until he feels you come apart beneath him again. 

Your heart races, your breath hitches, and you clutch his shoulders, bracing for the inevitable. The third orgasm begins to build, a crescendo of sensation that fills every inch of you, threatening to shatter you into a million pieces. 

His movements grow more forceful, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. You could feel the coil inside you tightening, the pressure building, the need for release overwhelming.

“Jude,” you cried out, your body trembling.

“Come for me,” he whispers. “Show me how much you love this.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as the intensity becomes too much, evidence to the depth of pleasure he's coaxing from your weary body. 

You feel the familiar rush of an impending climax, and you know this time, it'll be even more intense, a fitting end to tonight's victories.

Your eyes roll back in your head as your nails dig into his shoulders, desperately seeking purchase amidst the tumultuous sea of sensation. You orgasm as your body convulses uncontrollably, muscles tightening and releasing in rapid succession. Each stroke feels like a bolt of lightning, sending electric shocks through your core, making it impossible to distinguish where one climax ends and the next begins. 

The room is a blur of sensation, the only thing in focus is the feeling of him inside you, the sound of your moans, and the wet slapping of skin on skin. The wave of euphoria is so intense that you can't help but scream out his name, the sound echoing off the walls.

Jude's grip on your hips tightens, his movements becoming more urgent, his breath hot and ragged in your ear as he whispers sweet nothings and dirty promises. He follows you soon after, his own release coming swiftly. His body tensing, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you, his breath coming in harsh gasps.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths, the pounding of your hearts, the sense of completion, of fulfillment. As the waves of pleasure subside, he kisses away your tears, his eyes filled with awe and adoration.

“I love you,”  he says, his voice soft, tender. 

“I love you too, Jude.” you say, smiling.

Your body is spent yet satisfied. And you know that in this moment, in this intense, intimate moment, you are exactly where you're meant to be.

[livingincolorsagain]

Buck finds him in the bed of his truck, lying down, one arm folded under his head as he stares at the sky.

It’s a pleasant night, just on the right side of chilly; a clear, dark sky scattered with twinkling stars.

They’re at the tail end of their shift, and the midnight blue of the sky is soon going to get bright, the stars will disappear, and they will both go home.

Buck leans on the truck, stares a little more, wondering if the clench of his heart is ever going to ease away, knowing it won’t.

“Stop staring,” Eddie says, and he doesn’t turn to look at him.

Buck smiles. “Room for one more?”

Eddie turns, looks at him with a raised eyebrow, then uses his free hand to tap the empty space next to him in invitation.

Buck climbs up and lies down next to him, copying him. There is a few inches between their shoulders, but their hands brush, and Buck’s fingers spasm with the feeling. He knows that maybe he should pull his hand away, leave some space between them, but Eddie doesn’t pull away, and Buck follows his lead, keeping his hand close; not close enough to touch, but close enough that the closeness is like sparks on Buck’s skin, lighting him up inside.

The quietness stretches, blankets them, as the wind picks up, the cold intensifying; like it’s putting up a fight it knows it’s going to lose once the sun breaks through the horizon.

Eddie says, “I’m going to miss you,” then pauses, takes a deep breath, “I think I already do.”

And Buck feels the words land in his chest like sharded glass, his heart splintering like an old piece of wood that needs to be sanded down.

He closes his eyes against the burn, his throat closing, and it takes him too long to open his eyes and say, “I’m going to miss you, too.”

Eddie sits up a little, locks one arm in place and rests his head on his palm. He has a gentle smile on his face when Buck turns to look at him, and Buck suddenly feels caught, trapped with nowhere to go, and when he opens his mouth, he says,

“We can always, y’know, look at the stars. Together.”

Eddie’s breath hitches, his face going slack before he looks away, down at Buck’s chest then back to his face.

“Yeah?” he asks, a little breathless and a lot surprised.

“Yeah,” Buck says, sitting up so he’s looking down at Eddie. “Just, every time we miss each other, we’re only a call away. We can still look at the stars together even if you’re in Texas.”

The light overhead flickers, yellow and gentle, a halo over Eddie’s head as he sits up, pressing his back to the side of the truck, one knee pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around it.

He looks small, vulnerable, and Buck’s heart aches so bad he fears he’s going to keel over from the weight of everything he feels every time he looks at Eddie.

Eddie asks, “What if I’m missing you in the morning?”

Buck blinks, looks up at the sky, back at Eddie. “The stars are still in the sky in the morning,” he says faintly, “we just can’t see them because the sunlight from the sun is so bright it overpowers the light from the stars.”

Eddie smiles. “I’ll call anyway, then.”

“Yeah,” Buck goes to say, the word catching in his throat, so he can only whisper when he says, “I’ll call anyway, too.”

[eiightysixbaby]

princess leia, and other wishes

pairing: bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

wishing on a star? i guess it can’t hurt… (1.7k)

cw: mutual pining, eddie calls r an asshole playfully, fluff fluff fluff

a/n: just something short and sweet with our favorite guy 🥹 this really started as something smaller to give me a break from writing my longer oneshots. enjoy!!

The grass is prickly beneath your fingers, your palm outstretched beyond the edges of the blanket beneath you, pulling absentmindedly at the lush green strands.

Night fell some time ago, the sky a deep inky blue above you with stars that twinkle spectacularly as far as the eye can see.

Eddie lays beside you, hands clasped on his chest as he looks up at the bright flickering dots. You’d come out to this field on a whim, a random suggestion from him to go stargazing. Tucked high on a hill, away from the lights of Hawkins, you feel as though you can see every galaxy.

Occasionally you find yourself stealing glances at him, watching the way his chest rises and falls easily with each breath. If you were braver, you’d roll onto your side and study every inch of his face, radiantly beautiful even in the dark.

You feel his pinky finger graze your side, and you turn your face to his.

“You need to come up with a wish, in case we see a shooting star,” he says, his voice conspiratorial, like he’s telling you about a top-secret operation.

The corner of your mouth twitches in a sort of smile. “D’you believe in that junk?”

He chuckles lightly, shrugging. “Not really, but it’s worth a shot, right?”

“Yeah. Worth a shot,” you reply, feeling your heart thrumming in your chest.

Both of you turn your faces back to the sky, listening to the crickets chirp in the grass around you. Occasionally you hear the faint, dreamlike sound of car horns honking on the roads beyond. Being here with Eddie, in your quiet secluded oasis all alone, only ramps up your suppressed longing for him. Your right hand and his left rest mere centimeters apart from each other on the worn blanket, and you swear your skin vibrates with the desire to touch his.

You allow yourself a moment to wonder if he's feeling the same urge, if it's as hard for him to hold back as it is for you. The weight of your yearning is heavy on your chest, as if you have an anvil sitting on top of you and stealing your breath. You curse yourself for letting it get this bad, this stupid crush on your best friend that never should've started to begin with.

You're broken from your thoughts as one of his hands reaches out to grab your arm, his other hand pointing up at the velvety blue above. Sure enough, a shooting star streaks across the sky; a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment. As you watch it, you're unaware of the fact that Eddie is watching you.

One foolish wish crosses your mind.

"Okay, I honestly didn't think we'd actually see one," Eddie says beside you. His fingers release their grip on your arm, and you find yourself missing the soft squeeze of them. “So, what'd ya wish for?” He waggles his brows expectantly, waiting for your answer.

You swallow hard before forcing yourself into a lighthearted tone. “No way, if I tell you it won't come true.”

He scoffs, rolling onto his side so he's facing you. “What happened to not believing in 'that junk'?” he jokes. “Now you're getting all superstitious on me.”

You match his movement, rolling onto your side as well.

“My wishes are top secret, sorry,” you reply, miming zipping your lips shut.

“No fair! What if I tell you mine?”

“Let me guess, you wished Steve would finally let you steal that Slave Leia cardboard cutout from Family Video?”

He narrows his eyes. “Okay, am I that predictable?”

“Yes,” you say deadpan, trying not to crack a smile. He doesn't reply, just stares at you, like he's committing every inch of your face to his permanent memory. It's too much, and you avert your gaze abruptly from his deep brown eyes. You're suddenly far too close to him, and your heart feels like it might claw out of your chest and find a home in his instead.

You lie on your back once more, your breathing shallow as your heartbeat races.

A finger pokes you in the ribs.

“Will you pleeeeease tell me what you wished for?” Eddie asks, giving you his best pout and puppy eyes.

“What if I didn’t wish for anything?”

“Nice try.”

“Why is it so important to you what I wished for?” you ask, intending to stall as long as you can. You could come up with a lie, some dumb filler wish, but you know Eddie would see right through it.

“Honestly, the fact that you won’t tell me is driving me crazy. So now I need to know or I’ll literally die.”

You huff, reaching a hand out to cover his still-pouting face with an open palm. “You are SO dramatic.”

His tongue licks a flat stripe up your palm, making you recoil with a gasp. You go to swat at him, but he moves quicker than you, pinning your arms down on either side of your head. His knees press into the blanket on either side of you, his body hovering over yours but not quite touching anywhere.

He’s keeping his distance. Your heart aches. You want more than anything to pull him into you, press your lips to his.

“Tell me your wish, you little asshole!” he says, a devious smile playing on his lips.

When you don’t return his playfulness, his teasing, is when his brow furrows. You look too serious beneath him, lost in thought. He moves again to sit beside you, letting go of the hold he had on your wrists.

“Hey, what’s up? If it’s that big of a deal, you don’t have to tell me. Swear, I was just messing around.”

You shake your head, groaning softly as you rub your hands down your face, your skin stretching with the motion. “Eddie, you have no idea.”

“What do you mean?”

Your words barely come out audible the first time, and he can’t hear you over the singing crickets and the slight breeze rustling the leaves.

“I wished for you,” you say again, after he asks you to repeat yourself.

“Me? But I’m— I’m right here. I’m sorry, are you being funny, or?” he trails off, not putting the pieces together in his head.

“Eddie,” you say, sitting up now.

“Yeah?”

This is a bad idea, you think to yourself. Bad idea bad idea bad idea.

And yet you push yourself to keep talking. To not lose your nerve. To get an answer, finally. Because there’s a smaller voice in your head that’s telling you this is right.

“Can I kiss you?”

His eyes go wide, confusion crossing his features like he’s not sure he heard you right. “Wh- me? Now? You want to kiss me?”

He’s not into it. Retreat. Retreat. Retreat.

“I wished for you,” you say with a shaky inhale. “Because I want you, as more than a friend.” You’re speaking so quietly he has to lean in to hear you.

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and for once you can’t gauge his expression. You’re ready to tell him to forget it, to get up and haul ass out of this field and back to the van, but then he clears his throat.

“Swear you’re not messing with me,” he says finally. His eyes search your face almost frantically, and your breath catches in your throat.

“I’m not messing with you, Eddie. I mean it.” You aren’t sure how you even manage to say the words. You feel like all of the oxygen has left your lungs.

“Well, shit. Then yeah,” he says, almost bashfully. “Yeah, you can kiss me.”

Your eyes blow wide, blinking at him while you make sure you heard him right.

“I can?”

“Did you think I’d say no? Shit, sweetheart, I would’ve let you kiss me ages ago. O-or I would’ve done it myself, but y’know, I didn’t want to cross a line or anything—”

“Eddie,” you say, a smile breaking out on your face.

“Damn, my wish was so fucking stupid. I mean you’re out here wishing for me, and I really couldn’t see the signs? I’m so sorry—”

“Eddie!” He stops his rambling, eyes wide as they meet yours.

You don’t give him the chance to say anything else, leaning forward into his personal space. You let one hand come up to hold his jaw gently, pressing your lips to his in your final act of bravery.

It’s such a fucking cliche, but you swear there’s fireworks going off the moment you kiss each other. You can see them behind your closed eyelids, vibrant colors bursting before you. His lips are so soft against yours, the way you’d imagined them to be on all of those restless nights spent tossing and turning and yearning in your bed.

When you pull away, you can hear your heartbeat loud in your ears. His eyes are huge and bright, like the galaxies up above shrunk down to fit inside his dark irises. Neither of you know what to say at first, and it’s silent until you both erupt into a fit of giggles. His hands are warm when they take yours, letting his thumbs run over your knuckles.

“Can we please do that again?” he asks, a sweet smirk tugging at one corner of his pretty mouth.

In lieu of a verbal response, you simply lean back into him, kissing him harder this time. Far more sure of yourself. His hands find your waist, holding you so softly. You'd be perfectly content staying in this moment forever, fireflies twinkling in the grass surrounding you as your mouth moves slowly against Eddie's.

There’s no awkwardness, not a single hint of doubt pooling in your gut. His hands feel like they were made to hold you and his lips slot with yours like they were molded to fit together. This time it's him who pulls away, a boyish grin spreading across his face.

“Would you look at that,” he says. “Wishes really do come true.”

“Should we go talk to Steve about yours?” you tease, letting your nose brush against his.

A puff of air leaves his nose, a quiet laugh. "Nah, I'm good with this."

“Me too.”

When he eases you down onto the blanket, his weight on top of yours as he kisses you breathless, you have no complaints. The stars twinkle down at you, and everything is perfect.

[misswynters]

Mistletoe

featuring. ekko x reader

apart of the 2024 Christmas Special

‘Tis was the holiday season, and everything around you seemed to shimmer with festive spirit. The streets of Piltover were lit up with twinkling lights that decorated the storefronts, the air crisp with the scent of pine and spices, and the sound of carolers singing filled the background. For you, it was the most magical time of the year. It was a season of warmth, togetherness, and a touch of whimsy that you couldn’t help but love.

And this year, you weren’t alone in celebrating it.

You looked over at Ekko, who was walking beside you, a bit out of place in this festive setting. His usual cocky, confident smile was nowhere to be found, replaced with a mix of curiosity and discomfort as he took in the Christmas decorations. He didn’t quite understand the whole holiday thing, not the way you did. Christmas in Zaun was far from this bright, clean, and cheerful celebration—it was more about surviving, making do, and finding your own joy in the chaos. Piltover was a different world, one that seemed so foreign to Ekko.

Still, despite his usual skepticism, Ekko had promised you that he’d spend the season with you. He’d agreed to take part in all the little traditions you held dear, even if he didn’t fully understand them.

“I don’t get it,” Ekko muttered, looking up at a giant tree in the center of the square, its branches heavy with sparkling ornaments and ribbons. “I mean, this tree is cool, but... what’s the point? Just some big, shiny thing in the middle of town.”

You giggled, nudging him with your shoulder as you both stood on the sidewalk, watching the people bustle around. “It’s not just about the tree. It’s about the tradition, the feeling. You know, the whole spirit of Christmas? People come together, share moments, decorate, give gifts... and it’s all about love and kindness.”

Ekko raised an eyebrow. “And the presents? That’s what I don’t get. People buying stuff for each other just to say they care?”

“Kind of,” you said, grinning at him. “But more than that. It’s about thinking of the other person, showing them you care in ways that don’t have to be big or expensive. It’s the thought behind it.”

He was quiet for a moment, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at the people laughing and chatting in the square. “Guess I can see that. But, uh... I still don’t get the whole Christmas thing.”

You smiled warmly, reaching out to take his hand. “I know. But that’s okay. We’ll make our own Christmas, right? Just you and me.”

His lips twitched into a small, fond smile, his fingers gently curling around yours. “Yeah, alright. As long as it makes you happy.”

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, feeling your heart flutter a little. Ekko wasn’t the type to go all out with grand gestures or public displays of affection. But his quiet support and willingness to make you happy meant more to you than anything.

Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the two of you were curled up on the couch in your apartment. You had just finished decorating the place with twinkling lights, a few candles, and of course, a small, modest tree you’d picked out together. Ekko had been skeptical about the tree at first but had relented after you explained the tradition behind it. He’d even helped with hanging a few of the ornaments—mostly in a half-hearted, ‘I’m here because you want me to be’ kind of way. But it didn’t matter. The atmosphere was warm and cozy, and for once, it felt like home.

“Okay, now we need to figure out what to do for dinner,” you said, leaning against him, your voice soft. The flickering lights from the tree reflected in your eyes, adding to the cozy feel of the evening.

“Pizza?” Ekko offered, glancing over at you with a small, mischievous grin.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Pizza? Really? We can do better than that on Christmas Eve.”

“Alright, alright, I’m just saying... pizza’s easy. And we’ve done it before,” he teased, his tone playful.

You snorted, pushing his shoulder lightly. “We’re doing something festive. Something that feels... special. You’re supposed to be making this the best Christmas ever, remember?”

Ekko pretended to think for a moment, tapping his chin. “Okay, okay... How about a nice dinner, maybe some baked chicken and mashed potatoes?”

You smiled, impressed with his effort. “I like it. But we still need dessert.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical about the whole thing. “Dessert? What kind of dessert are you thinking? Not a cake, right? I’ve never been great with baking.”

“No cake,” you said, grinning. “Maybe cookies, though. The kind with frosting on top.”

“Cookies, huh?” Ekko’s voice softened, and there was something endearing in his eyes as he considered the idea. “Alright. Cookies. I can handle that.”

The two of you spent the next hour preparing your Christmas Eve dinner together, Ekko grumbling good-naturedly while you handled the baking. You took your time, enjoying the process, the hum of quiet laughter, and the warmth of having him beside you. It wasn’t anything grand, but to you, it felt perfect.

After dinner, you both settled back on the couch with mugs of hot cocoa, the room glowing softly from the lights and candles. The snow outside began to fall gently, and you leaned your head on Ekko’s shoulder, content in the silence between you. Even though this holiday was different from what you’d grown up with, there was something so special about sharing it with him. The thought of making new traditions together filled you with warmth.

You sat up after a while, your gaze drifting toward the doorway of the living room. There, hanging innocently above the doorframe, was a sprig of mistletoe—something you’d put up earlier just for fun. It was a tradition you’d kept up in the hopes that, one day, Ekko would kiss you under it. You’d almost forgotten about it until now.

With a mischievous grin, you stood up, walking toward the doorway. “Hey, Ekko,” you called, glancing over your shoulder with a teasing smile.

He lifted his head from his mug, raising an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“Remember that mistletoe?” you asked, pointing toward the doorway with a playful glint in your eye.

Ekko blinked in confusion for a moment before it seemed to click. He froze, his eyes locking with yours as a blush spread across his cheeks. “Wait... You didn’t mean...”

You stepped closer to him, your grin widening. “I did. Come on, Ekko. It’s tradition.”

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck, his usual confident demeanor faltering. “I... I don’t know, I mean, what if—”

“Ekko,” you said, your voice soft, “It’s just a kiss. It’s Christmas. And... I really want it. I promise it’s not a big deal.”

He looked at you for a long moment, his gaze shifting between your eyes and the mistletoe. There was still a touch of hesitation in his posture, but then, his expression softened. He stood up slowly, closing the distance between you both. His eyes were locked on yours, his hand reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

The moment felt suspended in time, and as he leaned in, his lips brushed yours gently, as though testing the waters. But then, with a softness that only he could manage, he kissed you fully, his lips warm against yours. The world seemed to melt away for a moment, leaving just the two of you beneath the mistletoe.

When he pulled back, his eyes were full of something you hadn’t seen before—a quiet tenderness, a warmth that mirrored the Christmas lights around you.

“Happy Christmas, my firefly,” he whispered, his voice soft but sincere.

You smiled, your heart swelling with happiness. “Merry Christmas, Ekko.”

And just like that, it felt like everything had fallen into place. You didn’t need to understand every tradition. You didn’t need a perfect holiday. Because, in that moment, you had everything that mattered: love, warmth, and each other. And that was more than enough.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

The Look of Love.

Synopsis - You, Buck and Eddie are absolutely, undeniably, head over heels in love with each other. It seems like everyone can see it except for the three of you.

Pairing - Evan Buckley x Female Reader x Eddie Diaz

Warnings - none!! just idiots in love.

Word Count - 1k

Author's Note - oh my buddie heart was bursting while writing this. whenever I watch 911, I always think about how easy it'd be to be friends (or more than) with eddie and buck. and then this was born!! hope you enjoy reading this sweetness as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

Buck twirls you around, strong arms circling your waist. Your feet don't touch the ground as he spins you, the skirt of your dress billowing in the breeze. You lean back in his hold, and catch sight of Eddie throwing Christopher up in the air, both of them laughing.

Buck puts you down and grins at you, Cheshire cat smile bright and blinding. You smooth your hands across his chest, flattening out his crisp white dress shirt where you've crinkled it. You tug at his bow tie, straightening it gently. Your gaze meets his, and you beam at him.

"Have I told you how handsome you look tonight, Evan Buckley?" you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck to sway with him. There's a smooth, jazzy melody echoing through the huge backyard, illuminated by golden, twinkling lights.

He quirks a brow at you cheekily before answering.

"I wouldn't mind hearing it again."

"I'm sure you wouldn't," you laugh, shrieking as he dips you backwards quickly.

"Well, you look very handsome. I like you in a tux."

You swear you see him blush slightly, heat creeping across his cheeks. He finds his confidence again, sliding his hands across the exposed skin of your back slowly.

"You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen," he tells you sincerely, eyes never leaving yours. "I should tell you that more often."

"Yes, you should," you tease, grinning at him.

You take notice of his smile, his relaxed shoulders, the way he's swaying with you effortlessly.

"You love weddings, don't you?"

"Hell yeah I do!" he replies delightedly. "Everyone I love all in one place, dancing, music... what more could you want?"

You can't wipe the smile off your face. He's right. The entire 118 is here, together as a family. Everyone is happy, excited to be celebrating Bobby and Athena's vow renewal. It's not often you all get to leave work at work and enjoy yourselves completely. You plan to make the most of every single second.

You feel two warm hands find your hips from behind, instantly leaning back into the broad chest behind you, knowing who it is immediately.

"Hola, Mr Diaz."

"Hola, hermosa."

"You gonna keep her all to yourself all night, Buckley?" he asks, wrapping his arms around you, over the top of where Bucks are already resting. You're sandwiched between the two of them, completely content.

"We were avoiding you and your terrible dance moves," Buck jokes, the three of you swaying together now.

"Are you hearing this?" Eddie asks incredulously, chuckling into your ear. "My terrible dance moves?"

"Don't listen to him, Eds. His ego lies to him."

"It's called confidence! Sorry if I have faith in my dance moves!"

The three of you laugh, bodies and souls tangled and intertwined on the dance floor.

Across the backyard, Chimney and Hen are sat at their table, watching you, Buck and Eddie move to the music, arms wrapped around one another.

"They really love each other, don't they?"

"Oh, yeah," Hen laughs. "Wish they'd all just admit it."

Chimney looks at his best friend in confusion, brows quirked and face crumpled.

"... What?"

"Oh, come on, Chim," Hen chuckles. "It's twenty twenty three. Get with the program."

"You mean, like, love love," Chim confirms, still puzzled.

"Yes, Howie. Love love. In love. The three of them are completely in love."

Chimney processes for a moment, before a light bulb goes off in his head.

"Oh, shit!" he laughs. "They totally are!"

"Damn, men are oblivious. How am I the only one that's noticed?"

"You aren't," Bobby and Athena say in unison, pulling out chairs to sit at the table.

"But we can't rush them. Good things like this take time," Athena offers.

Bobby glances over at the dance floor. You're holding Buck and Eddie's hands, and Chris is too, the four of you dancing and laughing. He smiles for moment, before speaking.

"You know they basically live together?"

When he's met with confused faces, he continues.

"They all crash at Eddie's place with Christopher so often, they've practically moved in. Buck hasn't slept in his own apartment in months."

"I mean, how do you even... navigate something like that? The three of them? It's so complicated," Chimney asks genuinely.

"They'll figure it out," Bobby assures. "They always do."

With that, he rises from his chair and across the yard. He scoops Christopher up into his arms, promising him cake and soda, much to Eddie's dismay. He winks at Buck before carrying Chris away, leaving the three of you alone.

Eddie surprises you by grabbing your hand and then Bucks, pulling you both away from the crowd.

"Come on. I wanna show you something."

He leads you up and into the guest bathroom of the house, rolling his eyes at you and Bucks suggestive comments. He's first to climb out the window and onto the roof, making sure you get through safely in your dress.

The three of you sit and watch your friends in the yard below, quietly reflecting. You're suddenly aware of the way you're sandwiched in between them again, thighs pressed together. You lean left and rest your head on Eddie's shoulder, interlinking your right hand with Bucks.

"How lucky am I?" you breathe. "To be surrounded by so much love."

Eddie rests his head atop of yours, smiling as he watches Buck lean in to rest his on your shoulder. The three of you exhale.

"We're the lucky ones," Buck murmurs. "I never thought I'd have this."

"Well you do," Eddie reassures. "And we're not going anywhere, Buckley."

"He's right, Buck. We're not going anywhere. Ever."

Evan sits up to kiss you on the cheek, before leaning over you and doing the same to Eddie.

The three of you sit on the roof, bodies and souls intertwined, illuminated by the moonlight. How lucky you are, to be surrounded by so much love.

[babychavez]

Lucky

You had just gotten back into L.A from being gone to Miami on a press run for your new show. You were of course traveling along with your co-Star Nicholas Alexander Chavez. You guys had grown close over the last few months while shooting and also doing press runs together. Well as time has drug on you two had kinda started to see each other but it was nothing official of course.

"I'm so ready to be home and take a nice long hot bath." You groaned out as you slide your sunglasses over your puffy tired eyes.

"My place is closer why don't you just come stay with me tonight and get some rest." Nicholas suggested as he pulled the driver door shut and started the car.

"No. I know you're tired and need some space. I mean goodness you have been stuck with me on the road for what seems like forever now. Just drop me at my hotel and it'll be fine." You said waving off the idea of his.

Nic looked over at you and raised an eyebrow at the command you had just given him. "Really? Now you wanna act like you wanna be in a hotel room all alone?"

You rolled your eyes at Nic, "oh don't even start that crap with me. You know you're tired of me and ready to be away from me for a bit." You remarked back at him in a super bratty way. Nic looked your way with a mischievous smirk on his  face.

"I very much can assure you that I never get tired of being around you. Even if you are in one of your sassy moods, now come here and give me a kiss." Nic exclaimed as he leaned over the center console that was between you two and pushed his lips together waiting for you to meet him the rest of the way. You smiled and shook your head as you pushed yourself up from your seat and leaned forward to make your lips connect with his.

Your heart fluttered when you felt him smile against your lips as you both broke the kiss. "Let's get out of here now." Nic started the car and took off down the road. You watched out the window at the familiar storefronts passing by all the hustle and bustle of people and cars on the streets. You could feel your eyelids get heavy with each street block you passed. You finally saw the road that would lead you on to the freeway and carry you and nic back to his place.

"Take a nap baby, it's gonna be a bit because of the traffic right now. Don't worry I'll keep you safe." Nic told you as he merged on to the highway. You looked at nic and gave him a sleepy smile, as to be telling him okay. Nic reached over and grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. You leaned your head back and slowly drifted off to sleep, knowing you were safe and in the best company.

"Baby we're here." You heard a soft voice say. You opened your eyes and saw the inside of the car illuminated by dim light. You pushed your sunglasses off your eyes and to your surprise the sunny sky that you had fallen asleep to was now dark and starry.

"What in the world is going on?" You asked while rubbing the sleep out of the corners of your eyes. You looked out the front windshield and saw no familiar sights, instead you saw a tall white house that was covered by greenery and 2 tall windows that made it look as if the house had 2 glowing eyes.

"Surprise babe." Nic exclaimed as he opened up the passenger door and extended his hand for you to take as you climbed out the door. You looked up and all the stars were bright on shining and twinkling above. You felt a nice almost cool breeze graze your face and you grabbed ahold of Nic's hand and placed your feet on the ground.

"Where are we Nicholas?" You asked as Nic pulled you away from the car and smiled widely at you. You were caught off guard and shocked to say the less because you never would have never guessed he could pull something like this by you.

"Well we have a few days off from work and meetings and traveling so I thought what a better way to spend it, than a little mini us vacation. Away from the noise of the city, people and most of all anyone knowing where we are. It's just me and you." Explained Nic as he embraced you from behind and laid a soft kiss on the side of your head.

"Aww. When did you plan all of this?" You asked him still shocked by the surprise of it all. Nic smiled and took ahold of your hand as he lead you to the front door of the house.

"Stop asking so many questions and just enjoy yourself and this time away we have. Baby sometimes living in the moment is the best way to live. We don't always have to know all the ins and outs of how something came to be. Just go with your feelings." Said Nic with a soft chuckle as he pulled out his phone and looked at something in it. He then punched a code into the lock on the double doors, he pushed open the doors.

You couldn't believe what you were seeing the lights were dim and candles were lite on top of the island in the kitchen with a lovely spread of finger foods and a chilled bottle of champagne in a metal bucket.

"Nic! This place is beautiful!" You exclaimed as you walked into the house and continued looking around.

"Yeah it came out even better than I had imagined it would." Nic exclaimed as he walked over to the island and popped open the bottle of champagne and poured you each a glass. "I knew I wanted to do something special for you since we have been so busy lately."

"Well this is perfect and you did an excellent job." You smiled and praised Nic as you raised your glass toward him. Nic smiled as he clicked his glass to mine and then we both took a drink. You started around the corner of the island to admire the food laid out in front of you when you noticed red petals on the floor. "Uh Nic what are these for?"

Nic was taking another drink out of his glass when he looked down and noticed the petals as well. "Oh yeah! Come here come here!" He exclaimed full of excitement as he grabbed you by the hand and pulled you behind him toward an open set of French doors.

Once out the doors you saw the sand and heard the waves hitting the beach. You could smell the scent of the ocean in the air and also the faint scent of floral. You looked down and saw more petals laying on the back porch they lead the way down the stairs and across the sand toward what looked to be a hammock on 2 post near the edge of the ocean and a soft glow from 2 lit tiki torches.

"Wanna go with me?" Nic asked as he was already pulling you in that direction down the stairs. You smiled and followed along behind him. But Nic didn't stop at the hammock he pulled you out into the water with him. The waves hit the both of you, soaking your clothes, you let out a giggle as you caught eyes with Nic who was smiling ear to ear. Nic grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him. You looked into his eyes and cupped his cheeks in your hands before you pushed your lips to his.

There you 2 were in the middle of the ocean at night holding each other as the waves crashed into the both of you, you two could care less because you were both lost in each other. You felt a warmth travel across your lower back and then slowly up your sides, it was Nic’s hands raises the soaking wet shirt off your body. You broke apart from each others lips as Nic gave your shirt one last tug over your head and tossed it on to shore.

You returned the favor by taking his shirt off and revealed his toned smooth chest, you both were standing there captivated by the moment and the look in each others eyes. Nicholas grabbed you by the waist and pulled you back into him, he held you so gently and yet tightly as never wanting to let you go. You laid your head on his chest and heard the beat of his heart quicken. You gently swayed back and fourth together in the water being held by Nic made it seem like nothing could ever top this moment. You felt Nic rest his chin on the top of your head but just as you settled he pulled back and looked down at you.

“I’ve had something on my mind for awhile now.” Nicholas said softly as he took your cheek into the palm of his hand and pulled your gaze up to his brown sweet eyes.

“Oh yeah what is it?” You asked slightly nervous.

“I never knew someone like you existed until the day you came in the doorway for our 1st table read. The moment I saw you I knew I wanted you. Then as this time has continued on between us, I feel like I’ve known you forever and that I can be myself with you. I feel like I’m here just for you. No one else.” Nicholas groveled as he ran his thumb across your cheek.

You could feel the redness bubbling up on your cheeks, no one has ever made you feel so special and made you so happy as Nic had. “I have never felt this way about someone Nic. I’m so lucky I met you.

Nic’s eyes twinkled and before you knew it, you were swept off your feet and Nicholas crashed his lips back into yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your tongues fought for space in each others mouth.

Nic carried you out of the water and laid you down in the big hammock. You grasped at the top of his pants trying to get them off. But just as you hooked your fingers into the waist of them he pulled away and instead pulled your shorts down and panties all in one swift motion. He tossed them down and then began to pull his pants down himself, you watched as he unleashed his hard cock.

He gave you an almost evil smirk as he pulled you to the edge of the hammock. He teased your wet slit by rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your clit, he smacked your pussy with his cock before thrusting it deep in you.

His cock could be felt in your stomach and made you gasp as you adjusted to it. Nic looked down at you and admired the way you were taking him, he began to slowly move his hips back and forth. You winced as he pushed himself back in each time.

“That’s a good girl. Taking this dick and letting me know how much you’re enjoying it.” Nic said as he bite his bottom lip and tossed his head back and let out a moan into the night sky.

You could tell his pace was increasing and you could feel yourself tightening around his cock with each stroke and the warmth was growing in your stomach. You let your head fall back and enjoyed the noises that were coming from Nic’s mouth, you pulled Nic down closer to your body and intertwined your fingers in his soft brown locks.

You heard the clapping of skin echoing out, Nic popped his head back up so you both made eye contact as he rocked his hips into you harder and harder.

“Ohhhh fuck yes! Fuck me Nic!” You yelled out at him. He pushed himself back up to where he could lay his forehead on yours, your eyes were locked. You could feel the sweat between both of you making you glide easily against each other. You couldn’t hold it back anymore and you let yourself go and got lost in the sweet orgasm as it would overcame your whole body.

“Take this cum baby!” Nic grunted just as he spilled inside of you. You both locked lips as let the moment be.

You laid on Nic chest as he kicked his foot making the hammock swing back and fourth, you both laid there listening to the ocean. Nic was relaxed and happy, he had his eyes closed and a smile on his lips. You and Nic’s fingers were laced with in each others and laid across Nic’s chest, he would wiggle his fingers every now and then to see if you’d response with some form of movement back.

“Thank you so much for planning this, I think this is just what we need.” You exclaimed laying a soft kiss on Nic’s warm skin.

“You deserve this babe. You haven worked your butt off the past few months and you deserve some peace and rest and most of all love.” You were taken back by the last word Nicholas had just spoken. He had never used that word till now toward you. You pop your head off his chest and peered up at him. His eyes were still closed but now the small smile had been replaced with a huge teeth baring smile.

“What did you say?” You questioned him. Nicholas let out a small chuckle and raised his head up to meet your stare.

“You heard me. You deserve to have love and be loved. I love you.” Nic spoke once again. You were overwhelmed by the words but most of all thankful because the feelings he had for you matches up with the ones you had for him.

“I love you too Nicholas.” You exclaimed as you laid a huge kiss on Nic’s lips. You cuddles back into Nic’s chest and closed your eyes and soaked up all of the emotions floating in the air between you two.

You had just opened a new adventure in life and it was very exciting to be venturing into the unknown future with a man as great as Nic. You could feel yourself drifting off with each swing of the hammock, back and forth and back and forth.

“I love you baby girl.” Nic whispered into the wind just as you drifted off to sleep.

[knottedhearts]

Q&A: C.S

The soft hum of the camera turning on filled the quiet room as you and Chris sat side by side on his couch, the glow of the ring light casting a warm, flattering light over both of you. It had been ages since he posted anything on his personal YouTube channel, and today was the day he finally decided to pick it back up. The two of you had agreed to film a Q&A session, answering questions from his fans who had been eagerly awaiting his return to the platform.

Chris was fiddling with his phone, scrolling through the questions his followers had sent in. He looked over at you with a grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Alright," he said, turning to the camera and giving a thumbs up. "It’s been a while, but let’s kick this off. First question…"

He glanced down at his phone, brows furrowing slightly as he read. "Okay, this one’s… interesting." He paused for effect, clearly teasing you, before reading aloud. "'Have you guys had sex?'"

You froze for a second, then burst out laughing, your face going bright red. "Oh my god," you groaned, shaking your head. "Seriously?"

Chris leaned back, his smirk turning into a full-blown grin. "I mean, we are answering questions, right?" He gave a playful shrug, looking at you with that signature, mischievous glint in his eyes. "Not that it's anyone’s business, but we’re here to have fun, right?"

You covered your face with your hands, still laughing. "This is what I get for agreeing to this. I swear your followers are crazy."

Chris’s laughter joined yours, and it was hard to tell whether the question was funny or just absurd. But the chemistry between the two of you made it all feel lighthearted, and it was easy to fall into the rhythm of answering questions while sharing inside jokes.

You took a deep breath, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. "Alright, alright. Next question before we get any more weird ones." You reached for your phone and skimmed through the list of submitted questions. "Let’s see… Here’s a cute one. 'What’s your favorite thing about each other?'"

Chris looked over at you, his smile softening. "Honestly? It's how we can just hang out and not even have to do anything and still have a great time. Like, we’re always on the same wavelength." He chuckled. "And how you always make me laugh. You’re like the funniest person I know."

Your heart gave a little skip, the warmth in his voice making you smile. You shrugged casually, acting nonchalant, but you could feel the fondness in his words. "Well, you’re pretty funny yourself. I guess it’s why we get along so well. But I’ll admit, you do have that charm that makes everything feel more fun."

He nudged you playfully with his elbow, then turned back to the camera. "Next one, I think we can all guess this one… 'Do you two ever fight?'"

You snorted, laughing at how predictable that question was. "Oh, definitely. We’re not perfect. We argue, we bicker, but it’s nothing too serious." You glanced at Chris and made a face. "Mostly about silly stuff, like when he steals the last slice of pizza."

Chris raised an eyebrow, smirking. "It was one slice. And you didn’t call dibs."

You pointed at him, laughing again. "You always steal it and then act like it’s no big deal!"

Chris winked, turning to the camera. "Hey, you snooze, you lose."

You shook your head, rolling your eyes dramatically. "You’re impossible."

As the conversation flowed, you and Chris went through a handful of questions, answering with a mix of humor, honesty, and a little bit of teasing. The questions ranged from the goofy to the sentimental, but no matter what was asked, it was easy to feel at ease with Chris by your side.

Eventually, Chris read the next question with a slight hesitation, his grin widening as he glanced over at you. "Okay… another weird one," he said, drawing it out for dramatic effect. "You ready?"

You squinted at him, already dreading what might come next. "Just read it, Chris."

He cleared his throat, pretending to be serious, and read, "'Do you ever have matching outfits?'"

You stared at him in disbelief for a moment before bursting out laughing. "That’s it? That’s the weird question you were hyping up?"

Chris grinned widely. "You’re telling me you didn’t think about this one? I thought you two would rock a couple’s costume for Halloween or something."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. "You know, that wouldn’t be the worst idea, actually."

Chris rolled his eyes but was clearly entertained by your suggestion. "Alright, let’s get back to the real questions, shall we?"

The next few questions were just as random, but you couldn’t stop laughing—"Do you think you’re both cute?" "Do you ever argue over the TV remote?" and, of course, the classic "Who is the better cook?" (You both agreed it was Chris, but you liked to pretend it was a tie to make him laugh.)

As you both read through the questions, the time seemed to slip away, the easy back-and-forth between you and Chris making the whole process feel like fun instead of work. Every time you’d tease him or crack a joke, you’d catch him looking at you with that smile, and it was impossible not to feel like the luckiest person in the world.

Eventually, you wrapped up the video, both of you laughing at the absurdity of some of the questions. As the camera shut off, Chris turned to you with a grin. "Well, that wasn’t so bad, right?"

You grinned back, leaning over and bumping him playfully with your shoulder. "Yeah, it was pretty fun. Even if your followers are a little… intense."

Chris chuckled, throwing his arm around your shoulder casually as he stood up. "You love it. You know you do."

You shook your head, still laughing as you followed him toward the kitchen. "You’re ridiculous," you muttered, but you couldn’t stop smiling. It was moments like this—simple, goofy, and filled with easy camaraderie—that made everything feel perfect.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Gentle Dark

Haldir x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: romantic tension, yearning, passionate kissing, fade to black, admission of feelings, fluff, light angst

Word Count: 1.3k

On a patrol together, Haldir confronts you about your feelings for him even though you’re promised to another.

A/N: For @childofyuggoth

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist

The stars twinkle through the gnarled canopy. White. Bright. Bathing the forest floor with iridescent light. You close your eyes and inhale deeply, savoring the scents of the forest around you. Caras Galadhon dwells behind you, sleeping and silent in the peaceful dark.

You are attuned to every sound in the deep wood, and as you filter through it all, you find nothing out of place or suspicious. But the disturbance of the wood is not of your immediate concern. There are greater trials and closer bodies that seek your attention other than the animals that softly move through the underbrush.

Haldir of Lórien is a beacon in the dark. You sense him before you see him, standing just shy of your right shoulder.

“The night is quiet,” he whispers.

You open your eyes, turn to face him. “It is indeed.”

Haldir’s gaze casually drops to your lips and then back to your eyes. A gentle heat radiates up your body to encompass you in its embrace. You have little control over your body’s reaction to him.

The answering of your flesh when he is in your presence is unfair. It is a cruel joke. You are promised to another, but not one of your choosing. If you had a choice, you would pick Haldir.

Always.

But that is not to be. That is not the path set out before you.

Him standing here next to you, alone in the gentle dark, is agony. The heat of him is so near, so alive that it sends your senses tingling with anticipation. The clashing beat within you is a deafening drum.

Can Haldir hear the racing of your heart? Can he sense your need and your aching tremble?

You hope he can’t, but you also silently hope that he does. What would he do then?

Haldir’s gaze finally leaves you to glance out into the wood. “We should begin the patrol.”

“Of course,” you murmur, inclining your head, allowing Haldir to take the lead.

He returns his gaze to you briefly before taking a step forward to walk between two trees. You follow him at a short distance, watching the distance, keeping a constant pivot. The two of you walk in relative silence, moving like phantoms amongst the towering trees.

At a small clearing, Haldir pauses. You cozy up beside him, a question starting to form on your lips.

“Do you remember this place?” he asks softly, gaze fixated at the center of the clearing. A sharp beam of moonlight illuminates the ground. The flowers glow under its lunar light.

You do know this place. On one of your many patrols with Haldir, he confessed his love in this very clearing. He held your hands in his, kissed your knuckles and each of your fingers. He whispered in a longing of gentle song that soothed your nerves and calmed your soul. In that moment, you didn’t want anyone else, you only wished for him.

But how things change.

“It is etched upon my heart,” you answer truthfully.

Haldir’s silver hair shines like starlight. “I’d like to stay here. My memories of this place are happy ones.”

The two of you have come to this clearing on multiple occasions. It is no coincidence that Haldir’s patrol includes you. He selects you on purpose, and you go with him willingly because you desire the closeness. It will not last forever, not when you’re promised to another.

“We can only linger here for so long,” you remind him.

Haldir sighs heavily, and turns to face you. He has always been stoic. Calm. Even in your presence, even when he whispered gentle words of love to you, Haldir never appeared…desperate.

The look on his face now is anything but calm. It is intense—a billowing storm tightly contained.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you murmur, startled by the sudden change.

Haldir’s gaze goes to your lips, lingers, and then flicks up to your eyes. “Why do you deny yourself what you want?” he asks.

You swallow and tuck your clenched fist behind your back. Haldir’s directness is too much. He knows that this is not of your own choosing.

“You cannot ask this of me,” you answer, hating yourself for sounding so weak.

Haldir entirely shifts his body in your direction. Taking a step forward, he moves into your space. Your back bumps up against the tree next to you. Haldir places his hand against the trunk next to your head.

You are trapped, but by all the stars in the night sky, you do not care.

His scent is woodsy and clean. You lean in a bit, inhaling, attempting to remember his smell since this might be your last opportunity to do so.

“You stay loyal to him.” Haldir bends at the elbow, pressing in. “And yet you know that he lusts after another.” The center of his brow furrows slightly. “Why not be with someone who will always worship you?”

Him. Him, meaning, your betrothed. The one you’re supposed to be with in the end. The selection made for you. This is an expectation placed upon you.

And Haldir is right. He does not love you. While you intend to be loyal in your upcoming marriage, you also know his heart will yearn for another. But you also yearn for someone else, and Haldir is standing right here, questioning all of this, wanting to know why you won’t pick him.

“Sometimes duty comes before happiness,” you reply softly, gaze cast downward.

“Does it?” he counters quickly.

You keep your face turned toward the ground. Stare at your feet.

The two of you have lain in this clearing, limbs draped over and around each other. There has always been closeness between the two of you. There has always been touching, skin pressed to skin, lips brushing but never fully meeting. Yet, the two of you have never completed the act itself.

That is binding. That is forever.

But you see it in Haldir’s eyes now as you sneak a peek of him. That desperate hunger. The desire to be with one person for the end of your days. It is an arrow through the heart, piercing and sharp and stinging.

You wish to satiated it, to admit to what you want most in this world. Because it is him. It is Haldir that you crave more than anyone else.

“I would be breaking my oath,” you reply softly, finally having the courage to look at him directly.

“Would you?” he asks. “You have made no vow. You have created no bond. The choice is yours. Utterly.” He gestures at himself with his free hand. “And I am right here.”

With a shaking hand, you reach up to cradle his cheek. Haldir turns into your touch, sighing gently, and that snaps your resolve, dissolves it like the winter snows melting in the sun. Haldir must sense the change, because the two of you meet, lips finally joining in what they’ve been longing for.

He tastes perfect. Wonderful. A match made for the ages.

Haldir’s hand upon the tree departs, leaving the bark to encircle your waist, to draw your body against his. You do not resist. You surrender to him, opening like a flower, wanting nothing more than to forget all your fears and sorrows in this little clearing.

The night is long, but it is not forever. For now, the two of you can have this.

Haldir drags you even closer, pressing you firmly against him as he learns the contours of your lips. His hands discover the planes of your body, and yet it’s not enough for him. Haldir is charged like lightening across the sky.

The two of you have been denying these mutual feelings for far too long.

This is a tremor. Earth-shaking. A star bursting into dust.

Haldir guides you to the center of the clearing, easily removing his cloak with one hand. He breaks away a moment to lay it down on the dewy grass, reaching for you the moment it fans out to hold the two of you.

You sink down with him, buckles and straps, and armor disappearing as you go.

It is everything.

It is nothing.

It is all you need in the gentle dark.

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @berarenado @therealbloom @ninman82 @thewulf @ferns-fics @beebeechaos

[pocketjoong]

Carnival

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (SYNOPSIS): You accidentally run into Yunho at the carnival!

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (PAIRING): Prince!Yunho x gn!reader

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (GENRE AND AU/TROPE): fluff. royalty au. sfw.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WARNINGS): just fluff. yunho is whipped for you in the end.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WORD COUNT): 560-ish

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (A/N): HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVE @justhere4kpop!! I hope the day ahead is as happy as the teezers made you the past couple of days!! I love you so much and I hope you enjoy reading this lil gift!!

It is late in the evening when you find yourself separated from your friends at the carnival that is being held in celebration of the Solair Kingdom winning the war. People all around are having fun, chatting, eating, playing with firecrackers, playing games, watching magic shows and buying things from the stalls. You spot people making wishes by the side of the lake by tying them to red lanterns; you walk over and buy one for yourself. You write down a wish, closing your eyes before setting the lantern free.

‘I hope this peace can last.’

Your gaze follows the lantern as it floats up in the sky and letting out a deep breath, turn around, only to be met with a strong and sturdy chest. You would have fallen if not for the strong arm around your waist that steadies you. 

A gasp leaves your lips, and you scramble to step away, “I am so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going…” You trail off, eyes widening, when you look up only to see the crown prince of Solair. He’s dressed in a white tunic and dark pants, but it doesn’t dampen even a bit of his beauty and regality.

“Are you alright?” he asks in a smooth tone. 

He has a soft voice, and you find yourself mesmerised, but you manage to nod at him. “Thank you for catching me. You saved me from an impromptu swim, Your Highness.”

The male chuckles, his grip steady as he helps you regain your balance. “Shh! You mustn’t call me that here. I’m trying not to get caught by my guards.”

“Who would’ve thought the hero of the war would sneak out to enjoy the carnival,” you can’t help but laugh.

“Well, considering I played a part in our victory, I think it’s only fair that I’m allowed to enjoy the celebrations without having eyes on me, don’t you think so?”

You’re about to answer him when you spot a couple of soldiers nearby, so you grab Yunho’s wrist and lead him through the bustling streets.

“Would you like me to show you the best sights and sounds of this carnival?” You ask hesitantly when you manage to escape without alerting the guards.

“Yes, please,” he smiles widely. “I’d love that!”

The two of you wander through the carnival, taking in the performances of acrobats and musicians. You have a blast sampling the delicacies from various food stalls, laughing as you feed each other morsels of sweet pastries and savoury treats. At one point, you found yourselves at a game booth where you competed in a friendly dart-throwing contest, with you eventually winning a stuffed bear, which you present to Yunho.

“This lil’ guy looks like you, doesn’t he?” You ask, eyes twinkling with mischief as you hold up the plushie next to his face. “I think it’s the bright-eyed smile.”

“If you’re done comparing me to a stuffed animal, we still have one more place to go.”

He guides you to a quiet spot atop a small hill, offering a panoramic view of the carnival. The sight is breathtaking, the lights twinkling like stars against the backdrop of the night sky.

“Wow,” you breathe, eyes wide with wonder.

“It’ll get better in a minute.”

Just as he says that, a boom sounds in the distance, followed by multiple others as colourful fireworks paint the sky. 

You can’t help but gasp as the sky lights up in different colours, “This is incredible.”

Yunho nods, his gaze fixed on you. “Yes, it is,” he agrees softly, though his eyes never leave your face.

[goldfades]

𝟎𝟎𝟏 SLIPPING INTO YOU ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ꪆৎ ˚ MATT REMPE

12 days of christmas celebration!!

as holidays approach, it’s important to remember those who are facing hardships, such as the people of palestine. in times of crisis, solidarity matters more than ever. you can support palestinian communities by donating to reputable organizations providing aid, such as food, medical supplies, and shelter. help palestine with a click | heal palestine | unrwa | resources for palestine

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.4k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | Matt drags you to the local ice rink. Matt is a natural skater, while you can barely stand without falling. Cue laughter, clumsy hand-holding, and lingering touches as they help each other stay upright (though, that doesn't do much).

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | fluffy! matt being the boyfriendest bf ever, descriptions of being scared, hot cocoa!!!!!!!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐓. Twinkling lights wrap around every lamppost, casting a warm glow that dances across the freshly fallen snow. The cold bites at your cheeks, but it's the kind of chill that feels festive, softened by the sweet scent of roasting chestnuts and cinnamon wafting from a nearby vendor. You pull your red scarf tighter around your neck, the fabric brushing against your chin as you match Matt's long strides through the crowded streets of New York.

He's practically humming with excitement. There's a childlike energy about him, and his eyes are bright with that unmistakable holiday sparkle. You don’t get to see this side of him often—outside the rink, he's usually all cool confidence and easy smiles. But here, in the city at Christmastime, he’s almost giddy, a broad grin plastered on his face.

You’re in the middle of pointing out the Rockefeller tree, its massive branches glittering in the distance, when Matt’s gaze catches on something else. His hand, warm and firm, slides into yours without warning, and suddenly you’re being tugged sideways, stumbling a bit over the slick pavement.

“Come on,” he urges, and you can already hear the teasing lilt in his voice, “I have an idea.”

You don’t have time to protest. He’s already pulling you through the flow of people, past couples holding hands and bundled-up families, the city’s hustle and bustle a blur around you. And then you see it—the ice rink, its surface shining under a canopy of lights, the sound of skates slicing the ice filling the air.

Your stomach drops.

“Oh, no,” you say, the words tumbling out in a rush. You dig your heels into the sidewalk, but it does little to stop him. “Matt, I can’t—I’ll fall on my face.”

He laughs, the sound deep and warm, the kind that makes your heart do a funny little flip. “You won’t,” he says, squeezing your hand. “I promise, I won’t let you fall.”

You open your mouth to protest again, but then he turns to look at you, his face softening in that way that’s almost impossible to resist. His cheeks are flushed from the cold, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes—one that you know all too well.

“Pleaseee?” he says, drawing the word out, his voice low and coaxing. He’s still holding your hand, and you can feel the reassuring pressure of his fingers intertwined with yours. You hesitate, nerves twisting in your stomach, but the way he’s looking at you makes it hard to say no.

Before you can think it through, you nod, just once, and Matt’s grin grows impossibly wide. “That’s my girl,” he says softly, and suddenly you’re both moving toward the rink, his excitement pulling you along despite the butterflies fluttering wildly in your chest.

You find yourself walking toward the ice rink as if in a daze, half-stumbling over the uneven patches of snow still clinging to the sidewalk. There’s a faint sense of inevitability, like this was always going to happen the moment Matt caught sight of the ice. He practically vibrates with enthusiasm, and his energy is contagious even as you fight back the urge to run in the other direction.

“Matt, I really can’t skate,” you say, the words tumbling out as he pulls you closer to the entrance. There’s a line forming, people exchanging laughter as they lace up their skates. Your heart is hammering against your ribs. “I’m serious. I’ll fall, and you’ll end up dragging me around the ice like a sled.”

He stops then, turning to face you, his expression softening as if he can sense the genuine anxiety brewing behind your teasing tone. The noisy swirl of the crowd fades a little as he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his gloved fingers brushing your skin. He’s so much taller that you have to tilt your head up to meet his eyes, and there’s a gentleness there that you weren’t expecting—a promise, unspoken, that he’s got you.

“Okay, listen,” he says, leaning in close enough that you can catch the crisp, wintry scent of his jacket, mixed with a hint of his cologne. “If you do this with me, I swear I’ll buy you the biggest, fanciest cup of hot cocoa New York has to offer. Whipped cream, marshmallows, caramel drizzle—the works.”

Your lips twitch, despite the nerves still coiling in your stomach. “You’re trying to bribe me with hot cocoa?”

“Is it working?” His grin is lopsided, charmingly hopeful, and he’s already dragging you forward again before you can decide if it’s working or not. “Besides, you know you’ll look cute out there. I mean, if anyone can make flailing around on ice adorable, it’s you.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real heat behind it. He’s relentless in that way of his, a confidence that makes you believe, just a little, that maybe you won’t fall flat on your face the second your skates hit the ice. With a sigh that you hope hides how hard your heart is pounding, you let him lead you to the rental booth.

The process is quick—Matt knows exactly what size to ask for, and before you can even finish contemplating an escape route, he’s kneeling in front of you, already tying the laces of your skates with deft, practiced fingers.

It’s almost absurd, seeing him like this, the picture of a hockey player lost in this unexpectedly tender moment. His hands move with such ease, and you wonder how many times he’s done this—how many rinks he’s laced up at, how many times he’s made skating look as natural as breathing.

“Comfy?” he asks, giving the laces one final tug before standing up, towering over you again. There’s a spark in his eyes, that same infectious excitement that hasn’t dimmed, and you find yourself nodding, even though your legs already feel shaky and you’re not even on the ice yet.

He steps into his own skates like he’s been doing it his whole life—which, of course, he has—and then he’s holding out his hand, palm up, waiting. “You ready?”

“Not even a little,” you admit, but you slip your hand into his anyway, feeling the solid, reassuring weight of his fingers curling around yours.

Your grip tightens instinctively as he leads you toward the edge of the rink, where a couple of kids are racing each other, their laughter ringing through the chilly air.

There’s a moment of panic when your first skate touches the ice, and you automatically cling to the side railing like it’s a life preserver. The cold, slick surface feels unsteady beneath your feet, a thousand miles away from the solid ground you were just walking on. Matt steps on effortlessly, gliding in front of you with the kind of grace that makes it clear why he’s a pro. His skates move smoothly over the ice, barely making a sound.

“See?” he says, his tone light and teasing. “It’s easy. Just take my hand.”

Your heart is in your throat, and you feel the cold seep into your fingers where they grip the metal railing, but you let go with one hand—then the other—trusting that he’ll catch you. And he does. His hand slides back into yours, strong and steady, and he pulls you closer, guiding your feet inch by inch onto the ice. The world narrows down to the sound of his voice, the glide of his skates, and the icy chill prickling your cheeks.

“Keep your knees bent a little,” he advises, skating backward so he can face you, his hands wrapped around yours. “Just relax. You’ve got this.”

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter, wobbling as you take your first hesitant step. Your legs feel like jelly, every muscle tensed and ready to crumple at the slightest provocation. But Matt just laughs, the sound low and warm, and he stays close, holding your hands as you inch forward.

Little by little, you start to move with him, and he keeps talking, coaxing you into motion with a steady stream of encouragement. Every time you stumble, his hands tighten around yours, and every time you catch your balance, he flashes you that brilliant, proud grin that makes your cheeks burn—not from the cold, but from something else entirely.

Somehow, minutes turn into a quarter of an hour, then half an hour, and the fear starts to melt away, replaced by something warm and fluttery that has nothing to do with the cocoa waiting for you when you’re done. Your movements are still clumsy, but you’re not gripping his hands like a lifeline anymore. There’s more laughter than fear now, and you’re both skating together, your breaths mingling in the frosty air.

“Alright,” Matt says, his voice dropping lower, the tone shifting to something more encouraging, almost coaxing. “I think you’re ready for the next step.” Before you can argue, he’s moving behind you, his hands settling at your waist. The heat of his palms is a reassuring weight through your coat, and you instinctively straighten, feeling the solid press of his chest at your back.

You can feel his breath on the side of your face, warm and steady, and your heart is hammering so hard it’s a wonder he can’t hear it. He’s practically wrapped around you now, one of his arms looping around your middle while his other hand rests lightly on your hip. For a moment, you forget you’re on the ice at all—his presence is steady, a warm cocoon that chases away the chill seeping through the air.

“Okay,” he murmurs right beside your ear, and you shiver, but not from the cold. “I’m gonna let go for just a second, alright? You’re doing great.”

“Wait—” you start, panic rising in your chest, but before you can finish, he’s already loosening his grip, fingers sliding away from your waist.

For a split second, you’re skating on your own—your feet moving awkwardly but somehow in rhythm, the ice feeling almost manageable beneath you. A surge of exhilaration flares up, and you can’t help the giddy laugh that bubbles out of you.

“I’m doing it!” you say, a thrill of pride swelling in your chest. You’re skating—actually skating—and for that split second, you believe you’ve got it, that you’ve finally found your balance. But just as quickly as the thought forms, it all goes wrong.

Your skate catches on a rough patch, and suddenly you’re tilting forward, arms flailing for something—anything—to hold onto. The ground is coming up fast, but before you can hit the ice, your fingers find purchase, clutching onto Matt’s arm just as you feel yourself going down. You yank him off balance, and there’s a startled shout from behind you as he tries to catch himself, but it’s too late.

The world tilts and blurs as you both crash to the ice in a tangled heap. It all happens in a heartbeat—the cold, hard surface jolting against your back, Matt’s weight pressing against you as he lands almost on top of you, his arms braced around your shoulders to keep from crushing you completely. The impact is over before you’ve even had time to realize what happened, leaving you both sprawled out in a mess of limbs and laughter, your breath misting in the air between you.

For a second, you’re both too stunned to move. You blink up at the Christmas lights strung above the rink, the colorful bulbs shimmering in the darkness, casting a kaleidoscope of colors over the ice. Then Matt shifts, his eyes wide with surprise, his face so close that you can see the faintest dusting of snowflakes caught in his dark hair.

And then you both burst out laughing—helpless, giddy laughter that bubbles up and spills over, filling the crisp night air. It’s the kind of laughter that’s impossible to stop, the kind that leaves your cheeks aching and your stomach sore, and you can’t help but lose yourself in it.

Matt’s forehead drops against your shoulder, his whole body shaking with laughter, and you’re laughing so hard that you can’t catch your breath, your gloved hands still clinging to his arm as if you’re both afraid to let go. He shifts slightly, still laughing, and his weight presses you deeper into the ice, but it doesn’t feel cold anymore—it feels warm, safe, like the world has narrowed down to just the two of you in this ridiculous, wonderful, chaotic moment.

When he finally lifts his head, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, there’s a grin on his face that’s so infectious you can’t help but smile back. “I thought you had it,” he teases, still breathless with laughter, his face inches from yours.

“I thought I did too,” you gasp, shaking your head. “But then you let go! Why did you let go?!”

“Hey, you grabbed me!” he says, mock-indignant, still grinning.

He shifts, rolling off you but keeping close enough that your shoulders are still touching, both of you lying flat on the ice, staring up at the glittering lights above. “I told you I wouldn’t let you fall alone.”

You laugh again, your breath hitching, and you push at his shoulder playfully. “Yeah, well, now we’re both down here, genius.”

“Worth it,” he says easily, a soft warmth in his eyes that makes your breath hitch for an entirely different reason. His smile fades into something softer, something more real, and he reaches up to brush a stray snowflake from your cheek, his fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary. “You’re okay, right?”

You nod, feeling a little breathless, a little dazed, but completely, wonderfully okay. More than okay. You’re lying on the ice in the middle of New York City, tangled up with Matt in a pile of limbs and laughter, and it’s perfect in a way you never would’ve expected.

“Alright,” he says, still smiling as he pushes himself up, extending a hand to help you to your feet. “Come on, let’s try that again. And if you fall this time, I’m definitely buying you that hot cocoa.”

“Deal,” you say, letting him pull you up, his hand warm and sure in yours. And for a second, standing there with him, your feet wobbling and your cheeks burning, you think maybe falling isn’t so bad after all.

When you finally make it off the ice—after several more tumbles, a lot of laughter, and one triumphant lap around the rink where you manage to stay upright the whole time—Matt keeps his promise. His arm is slung casually over your shoulders, the two of you leaning against each other for warmth as you leave the rink behind, the lights fading into the distance as you make your way back into the heart of the city.

“There’s a place right around the corner,” Matt says, his breath clouding the air as he gestures toward a cozy little cafe tucked between two shops. It’s the kind of place you’d never notice unless you were looking for it, and you can’t help but smile as he pushes open the door, the warm air inside washing over you like a wave.

The cafe is small and inviting, the air thick with the rich scent of chocolate and fresh pastries. A garland of evergreen is wrapped around the windows, and twinkling fairy lights cast a soft glow over the tables. There’s a slight hum of conversation—other couples and groups of friends escaping the chill of the winter night—and it feels like you’ve stepped into a Christmas postcard.

“Go find us a seat,” Matt says, flashing you a grin as he makes his way to the counter. You peel off your gloves, rubbing your hands together to chase away the lingering cold, and find a little table by the window. The fogged glass gives a perfect view of the Rockefeller tree outside, its branches heavy with ornaments, the lights glittering like a million tiny stars against the night sky.

A few minutes later, Matt returns with two steaming mugs, their surfaces piled high with whipped cream, chocolate shavings, and a handful of tiny marshmallows. He sets one in front of you with a flourish, like he’s presenting you with the most important drink in the world, and you can’t help but laugh as you wrap your fingers around the warm ceramic, feeling the cold melt away.

“Fancy enough for you?” he asks, his tone light, but there’s a softness in his eyes as he watches you take that first, hesitant sip. The rich chocolatey warmth floods your senses, and you let out a happy sigh, feeling the warmth spread all the way to your toes.

“It’s perfect,” you say, and you mean it.

It’s not just the cocoa, though that’s pretty close to the best you’ve ever had. It’s the way Matt is looking at you, his smile lazy and content, the faintest hint of color still lingering in his cheeks from the cold. It’s the feeling of being here, together, with the sounds of the city muted outside and the tree lighting up the darkness like something out of a dream.

He sits across from you, long legs stretched out under the table, and for a while, you don’t say anything at all. You just sip your cocoa, watching the lights of the tree reflected in the window, the glass blurring the world outside until it feels like the two of you are the only ones in it.

“This is nice,” you finally say, your voice soft, almost hesitant, like you’re afraid of breaking whatever spell has settled over you both.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and there’s a warmth in his gaze that makes your chest feel tight, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It really is.”

He reaches across the table, his fingers brushing against yours where they rest around your mug, and you let him. It’s a small gesture, almost nothing, but it sends a thrill through you that you can’t quite ignore. His thumb traces a lazy pattern over your knuckles, and you find yourself smiling back at him, feeling more connected than you ever thought possible in such a crowded city.

Outside, the Rockefeller tree shines brighter than ever, each light reflecting in Matt’s eyes as he watches you, his expression softer than you’ve ever seen it. There’s something about the moment—the warmth of the cocoa, the glow of the lights, the way the rest of the world seems to fade away—that feels special, almost magical.

Like maybe this is exactly where you’re supposed to be, with the right person, at the right time.

He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, but there’s no need. The silence between you is comfortable, easy, and as you sit there, sipping cocoa and stealing glances at each other over the rim of your mugs, you think you could stay here forever—right in this perfect little moment with him, the city sparkling around you like something out of a dream.

Eventually, Matt leans back in his chair, stretching a bit, and he gives you a lazy grin that’s all mischief and warmth. “Alright,” he says, eyes twinkling, “if I knew hot cocoa would make you this happy, I would’ve dragged you out on the ice ages ago.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the laugh that escapes. “It wasn’t just the cocoa, you know,” you say, a little shy, and Matt’s grin softens.

“I know,” he replies, his voice gentle, and he holds your gaze a little longer than necessary before his attention shifts back to the glowing tree outside. For a while, the two of you just watch the lights twinkle, your mugs growing lighter with each sip until all that’s left is the memory of warmth and sweetness lingering on your tongues.

“Next year,” he says suddenly, his tone thoughtful, “we’re doing this again. Same rink, same cocoa, same everything.”

“Next year?” you ask, pretending to be skeptical, but the way your heart skips tells you exactly how much you want that—how much you want to be here, with him, over and over again.

“Next year,” he repeats, his voice firm and certain. He gives your hand one last squeeze before he lets go, reaching for his empty mug with a casual ease that makes your heart do another of those funny little flips. “It’s a tradition now.”

“A tradition,” you echo softly, the word tasting sweet on your tongue, and you find yourself smiling again, feeling something warm and hopeful bloom in your chest. It’s a promise, unspoken but solid, and as you glance back at the tree, its lights reflecting off the glass like a thousand little stars, you know it’s a promise you want to keep.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[testrella]

CRAZY RICH ASIANS..! G. SATORU X READER

𝜗𝜚 | CHAPTER FOUR : tutoring.

NEXT… CHAPTER FIVE : accidental kiss.

you sat at the grand dining table, chandelier dimming the area hanged above you and textbooks of different curriculum surrounded you. you were diligently working through difficult math questions with megumi, breaking down each problem step by step. the room filled with flashy decor and high ceilings only further echoed your explanations.

“alright megumi, for this one i want you to do it on your own. if you get stuck, look back at the previous problems we worked on.” you said in a patient and encouraging voice.

just as megumi was about to start to solve the problem before him, the one and only satoru burst through the custom wooden doors with a mischievous grin on his face. “good evening miss.l/n, megumi. how’s the tutoring session going?”

megumi sighed, clearly in annoyance and frustration. “it was going well until now.”

you warmly smiled at satoru. “it’s going well mr.gojo. megumi doesn’t seem to be having any trouble with his studies at all.”

satoru leaned casually on the back of a dinning chair, his eyes twinkling in excitement. “please, call me satoru. there’s no need for you to be so formal.” he then glances at the textbooks, “math, huh? i always found it interesting how numbers can just..add up. almost like how we keep running into each other.”

you chuckled at his light joke, “it’s quite the coincidence, isn’t it?” you asked while turning to megumi, giving him your full attention.

megumi could only roll his eyes and mutter, “more like the world’s way of conspiring against me..”

satoru quickly ignored megumi’s comment and continued, “so, miss.l/n, do you enjoy teaching? you must be very passionate about it if you’re able to put up with this brat.” satoru playfully ruffles megumi’s hair but his hand was quickly slapped away.

“teaching definitely wasn’t my first nor second choice but i’ve grown to love it.” you replied, “seeing bright students like megumi and being able to push them to be the greatest is rewarding.”

satoru’s goofy grin only widen. “you know, you have a way of talking that’s just so captivating. your students are lucky to hear you speak everyday.”

a light blush spreads across your face, from your ears to the tip of your nose. “thank you satoru, that’s very kind of you to say.” som would find it odd calling him by his first name but it came out so casually it made his heart flutter.

megumi groaned in annoyance, loud enough to snap the eye contact between you and his guardian. “can we please get back to the math problem?” he clearly has grown uncomfortable with the tension in the room.

but satoru couldn’t let some lousy kid ruin his shot, he was just on a roll! “of course, of course i’ll let you go after one more question.” he said while glancing back at megumi and then setting his eyes on you once again. “what do you do in your free time when you’re not inspiring the kids of our future? maybe we could find some common interest.”

before you could answer, the heavy double doors of the dinning room swing open once again. it was satoru’s mother, an intimidating figure with a very stern expression. her eyes quickly examined the scene before her, narrowing her eyes on you.

“satoru, what is this?” she demanded. “who and why is this woman tutoring megumi?”

satoru quickly shifted his demeanor. going from a playful, flirtatious puppy to a presentable young man. “mother, this is miss.y/n l/n. she’s megumi’s teacher and tutor. an excellent tutor i should add.”

his mother’s lips thinned as she continued to examine what seemed to be every feature of yours. her lips soon turned into a disapprovement line. “i was not aware we were seeking…employment from the outside world. especially from someone who looks..well inexperience.”

your face flushed in embarrassment, feeling like you entered uncharted territory. but you stood up and bowed out of respect, maintaining your composure. “mrs.gojo, i can assure you that i am very much qualified to tutor megumi. i’ve studied in-“

“qualifications on paper mean little. experience and dynasty is what matters when it comes to our family. megumi is like a grandson to me, and he deserves only the best our family can provide. surely my son didn’t cheap out on you, did he megumi?” her icy gaze turned into a warming, innocent expression as she turned to megumi.

“mother, that’s enough. miss.l/n is more than qualified to tutor megumi. after all, she’s the reason he hasn’t been expelled from his academy.” satoru said as he stepped forward in your defense.

but being the stubborn woman she was, she wasn’t going to let it down without a fight. “satoru, i will not let our family’s name be tarnished from subpar tutoring. you could’ve asked me to arrange a private tutor for him. this is unacceptable.” she whispered to him, quiet enough to keep megumi out of it but loud enough to bring you down.

being clearly hurt, you began to gather all your things. “i completely understand, mrs.gojo. i apologize for the inconvenience and if i caused any offense.”

satoru’s eyes flashed with saddens as he turned around to see you leave. “miss.l/n, please, you don’t need to leave. you’re more than capable of educating megumi. please, have a seat.” he said while pulling your chair out.

his mother’s gazed shifted to satoru, her expression hardening. “satoru, you may be the head of this family but i still have a say in what’s best for this family.”

tears began to form in your eyes, was your presence truly a burden to the family?

satoru took a deep breathe, desperately trying to remain calm in front of you. had it been any other person, he would’ve listened to his mother in a heartbeat. “miss.l/n, i’m very sorry for my mothers behavior. your help is appreciated, and i know how much your deeply care for megumi. please, continuing tutoring him if you’re willing to.”

you hesitated to answer, your eyes flickering between satoru and his mother. “i appreciate your efforts but i don’t want to cause any more trouble.” you whispered.

“you’re not causing any trouble,” satoru said while gently grabbing your items and placing them down on the table. “my mother is. this is my home and you’re more than welcomed to stay.”

with his persistence, you felt comfortable to sit back down in your seat. you nodded in agreement to stay, avoiding his mother’s sharpening glare.

he turns to his mother, “we can continue this conversation in my office, away from megumi and my guest.” he spat out.

his mother eyes only blazed with anger as she stomped out the room. as her heels clacking slowly faded away you let go a breath you were unaware you were holding in.

“i’m really sorry about that. she’s..a difficult person, to say the least. it’s her away or the highway type of person.” he smiled apologetically.

you attempted to reciprocate the same smile but you were still a bit shaken up by the interaction. “it’s okay satoru, i’m glad you stuck up for me.”

megumi let out a sigh of relief, “so, does that mean you’ll continue to be my teacher and my tutor?”

you could only chuckle as his concern comment unintentionally lightened the mood. “of course i will, megumi! now let’s get back to that math problem.”

satoru took a deep breath as he approached his home office. he knew what- or who awaited him before the wooden doors. he braced himself for the confrontation. the heavy doors creaked, revealing his mother sitting in his high black leather chair, her posture being straighter than paper.

“mother,” satoru greeted but not in his chirpy tone like he would use with you or megumi. it was natural with not emotion behind it.

“satoru,” she replied, it was more viscous and icy. “we need to talk.”

he closed the doors behind him and walked over to his desk, leaning against it while placing both hands on it. his demeanor is in all seriousness, a rare sight to see. “i already know what you’re going to say, and i’m telling you right now- miss.l/n stays.”

her eyes narrowed, “is her qualifications that impressive, or is there something more to your interest in her?”

satoru immediately backs off the desk and avoids her gaze. “miss.l/n is an excellent teacher. like i said before, she vouched for megumi when he was near expulsion. she cares for his education and future, there’s nothing more to it,” he expressed.

his mother stood up from his chair and clasped her hands. “very well, i’ll drop the matter for now. but there’s another issue we must discuss- your status as a single man.”

satoru’s brows furrowed in confusion. “what about it?”

“you are the head of the gojo family,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “it’s time you start fulfilling your responsibilities as the leader. you need to find a suitable spouse and provide a worthy successor.”

he sighed, running his hands through his white hair. “well i’m aware of my responsibilities, mother. but i don’t see why we need to rush any of this.”

“because you’re nearing thirty, and it’s past time you start settling down. if you don’t find a worthy partner before your cousin’s wedding, i’ll take matters into my own hands and find one for you.”

satoru’s stomach turned into knots knowing his cousin’s wedding was less than a year away. his jaw clenched before he spoke up, “by a ‘worthy partner’ you mean somebody who fits your exact standards?”

“precisely!” she said while giving him a small peck on his cheek. “someone who comes from a prestigious and noble background, with proper upbringing and connections that could further benefit our clan.”

satoru exhaled sharply before speaking his mind. “and what if i want to marry somebody who doesn’t fit the standard? what if i want to chose for myself?”

his mother laughs. she laughs in front of his face for asking such a silly question. it takes her a good minute before she calms herself down. “your personal desires are to be put aside. you will do what’s best for the family.”

he could only stare at his mother. “and what if what’s best for the family doesn’t come from a prestigious background? what if it’s someone genuine and cares about me?”

her voice was steely. “then she’ll spend everyday to make herself into something she’s not. go ahead and bring some commoner into this family.”

the tension was thick. satoru felt his mother’s words pierced through his chest and mentally suffocated. it hurt because she was right, she was always right.

“you may think you have a choice,” she whispered, “but remember your decisions affect more than yourself.”

she quietly excuses herself out the office, leaving him in a mental battle of doubt. the weight of his family’s expectations were catching up to him and started to drag him down to the depths of hell. he sat down as he ran his hands through his hair. it would mean nothing to bring a regular girl into his clan other than to prove his point. but he couldn’t help to think about you and the rare moments of genuine connection he felt around you. his breathing slowed down and his nervous fidgeting stopped. maybe, just maybe, there was a way he could follow a path that’ll satisfy both him and his clan.

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tag list is open. please inbox me your username. also, i’d like to apologize for such a late and short chapter. testifying in court takes longer than you think ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

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[roanofarcc]

STARGAZING

pairing. sasappis x ghost!reader

summary. requested. stargazing with sasappis. pure fluff!

word count. 1k || masterlist

warnings. dead!reader, g/n reader, no use of y/n.

No matter how much time passed you by in death, there were still things about the world that fascinated you. One of those things was the stars. Whenever the sky was clear, you’d be found in the backyard of Woodstone, lying in the grass and gazing at the stars as if you were witnessing them for the very first time. Sometimes one or two of the ghosts who haunted the mansion would join you, but more often than not, the only person who seemed to enjoy the stars almost as much as you was Sasappis. You both enjoyed one another's company and relished in the calmness of a twinkling night. 

You and Sasappis had been alive during vastly different time periods, but the stars reminded you both of home and family; they connected you across decades and lifetimes. 

“Did you know people can get stars named after them now?” you said, breaking the long stretch of comfortable silence.

You felt his eyes on the side of your face, causing you to turn your head to gaze back at him. The soft light of the moon cast a pretty glow across his face, with brows furrowed in question. “No way,” he replied. 

“Really! You get a certificate and everything.” It was Jay who you learned that from; he had a whole conversation about space and the universe with one of the people they hired to fix up the mansion for their B&B. “Imagine,” you continued, a dreaminess floating in your voice. “Looking up every night and knowing somewhere in the sky is a little star with your name.”

“First there’s other galaxies beyond ours and now this?” Sass said in mild disbelief. “What’s next? Are they going to colonize the moon?” 

A laugh bubbled up your throat and he smiled. “Mars is next on the list, I believe.” 

He blew some air from his cheeks. “And here I thought the idea of a man on the moon was outrageous.” 

You turned your body so that you were lying on your side, propping your head up on your hand as your elbow dug into the grass. You could see him better, lying with his hands down at his sides as he plucked at the grass absentmindedly. “If you had a star, which one would you want?” you asked. 

He returned his gaze to the sky, studying the nearby stars with a level of seriousness that made your lips quirk up in a soft smile. Sass didn’t take too many things seriously; how could he after being a ghost for as long as he had? But around you, especially when you were alone in the backyard, Sass hung onto every word you said as if his death depended on it. 

After a long moment, he pointed upwards at the sky and said, “That one, right there.” You strained your eyes, following his finger in the general direction he was pointing. “Not the super bright one, but the one right next to it.” You saw it, two stars situation beside each other. One glowered brighter than the other, but both were dazzling against the black sky. 

“Why not the brighter one?” you asked. 

Sass looked at you again, soft smile and eyes wide with a certain glimmer of adoration that made your stomach flutter. He reminded you of a star. He was something you planned to admire for as long as your ghostly form remained at Woodstone. 

“Because the bright one’s yours,” he said. You felt your face warm at his words and you forced your gaze away from him and back up at the stars. The two stars sat prettily beside one another, just as the two of you sat side by side on the grass. The light that emitted from your star stretched outwards just slightly, looking like it was reaching out for the star beside it. 

You became brave and copied your star’s action, slowly sliding your head that rested at your side toward Sasappis’s hand. Your pinky brushed against his as a hesitant invitation, and without either one of you taking your eyes off of the sky, you interlocked your fingers. With his hand in yours, you felt as if you were holding onto a star. Bright and beautiful and just yours. 

It didn’t matter how old the stars in the sky were, they still ended up right beside each other just as you and Sass ended up ghosts at Woodstone together. Maybe it was fate, written in the stars as some people would suggest, that the two of you had died on the same property decades apart and found yourselves stuck in purgatory together. Death had brought you together despite the impossibility of you two ever meeting while you were alive. 

When you were alive, death had been seen as a curse, but it wasn’t all that bad. An eternity spent with Sasappis, watching the stars and basking in the glow of one another sounded like the opposite of some kind of punishment. And maybe after you completed your purgatory, if it ever ended, you two would end up burning as stars in the sky side by side. That’d be nice, you thought.

“Look,” you said, pointing to the cluster of stars just below yours. “There’s one for everyone too. Sam and Jay. Trevor, Isaac, Flower, and that one’s obviously Thor.” You pointed to the largest star in the cluster. “And then Hetty, Alberta, and Pete.” That sounded nice too, spending forever in the sky with everyone still close. 

“Cute,” Sass replied as a light laugh punctuated his word. “The whole family.” He paused, shaking his head. “Do not tell any of them I called us a family.” 

“Never.” You smiled. “Can’t have them know you’re a big softie.” 

Sass scoffed, playfully. “Am not.” 

You rolled your eyes. “You just told me I was a bright star in the sky.” 

He lifted your interlocked hands, letting them bathe in the direct moonlight. “Okay, maybe I’ve gone a little soft, but it’s your fault.” You let your hand fall onto his chest above where his heart used to beat and scooted impossibly close to him, hovering just slightly above his lying figure. 

“Sorry,” you said, insincerely. He mirrored your smile before he lifted his head and met you halfway, capturing your lips in a short but sweet kiss, spotlighted by your stars that burned as brightly. 

[danikamariewrites]

Meant to Be

Mob!Azriel x reader AU

A/n: I’m so excited to start this little series! I hope you all enjoy this and thank you for being patient with me. I know I’ve been all over the place lately lol. Also I might change the pov I use in the next fics but we’ll see.

Warnings: none

Series Masterlist

As I’m just about to shut the front desk computer down, the glass door to the gallery swings open. Holding back rolling my eyes, I lift my head ready to tell whoever it is that we're closing. I stop, my lips partially open as my eyes meet the most gorgeous, soft hazel ones. On a beautifully sculpted face with a sharp jawline and soft raven hair. The words died in my throat. Changing to, “How can I help you?”

Gods I need to stop staring. If Feyre was still here she would be making fun of me for ogling the poor male while using my stupid customer service voice. He gives me a bright smile before speaking. “I’m looking for a new piece for my office. The walls are feeling a little bare.” Mother above he sounds like an angel.

I froze again. I’m technically not supposed to be selling paintings to clients, especially walk-ins and new ones. But my boss left me in charge for the rest of the day. It’s Gavin’s own fault he blew off work for a spa day. And I had to help Gavin list all the paintings, so I can absolutely sell one of these bad boys. I was amazed by how much Gavin didn’t know when these paintings came in. And he has the audacity to call himself an art collector.

“Absolutely. Are you looking for anything specific or I can show you a few of my favorite pieces if you’d like.”

As I stand I look around the room to see if anyone else is in the gallery. Two males with similar tan skin and dark hair stand by the door. The more muscular one slightly smirks at me before staring ahead again. I look back at the male in front of me, taking in his suit, the expensive watch, and the thick silver signet ring on his index finger gleaming in the light. Staring at the ring closely I can make out a family crest engraved on the flat surface. Morwood.

The male standing in front of me is notorious mob boss Azriel Morwood. Recovering quickly I smile up at Azriel, burying any kind of fear that was working its way up my spine. He isn’t here to hurt me. He’s here to buy art. Harmless.

Relaxing, I walk around the desk, gesturing to the left of the gallery. “This way then.” Azriel holds out his arm for me to take, that bright smile never once leaving his lips. Although it might not be the most professional thing to do, I loop my arm through his.

As we go from painting to painting Azriel seems to relax as well. We fall into easy conversation. At times it feels like we were childhood friends catching up. His flirtatious comments made me blush and fumble over my words. At the risk of being unprofessional again, I flirt back. There’s no denying the male is beautiful. I’m sure he’s kind under all of those dangerous layers. I can’t help the pull I feel toward him, to know more about Azriel. I should feel ashamed of this attraction. Azriel has done awful things but that feeling isn’t taking over.

“And that’s it for this collection. Is there anything else that’s caught your eye?” I ask, regretfully pulling away from Azriel as I snap back into my customer service voice. A stark contrast to the normal flirty tone I was just using. He seemed to take his time thinking. Azriel’s hazel eyes seem to twinkle as he looks at me. “That Blanch piece, I loved the two you showed me.” “Of course.” I lead him to the middle of the section where the two paintings hang side by side.

He looks at the two trying to decide between the two. “Which is your favorite?” I look at him, taken aback by Azriel Morwood asking for my opinion. “Well…I can’t choose between the two. Truthfully, I believe Blanch created these pieces to complement each other. They’re from two different collections but you can tell by the edge of the scenery they are meant to be together.” Azriel let out a thoughtful hum as he crossed his arms.

I try not to stare at him too blatantly but I just can’t help myself. His thinking face is cute. I can tell he’s concentrating. “I’ll take both.” My eyes widened. I'm so shocked I took half a step back. “I’m sorry?” I realize that it came out harsher than expected. “Sorry, I just - really? You want to buy both?” A half smile tugs at the corner of his lips as Azriel turns to face me. “If they are meant to be together it would be a crime to separate them.” There was something insinuating in that seductive tone of his. The hopeful look in his eyes gave it away. Something told me Azriel rarely let something like that slip. I give him a genuine half smile of my own. “Of course.”

Fifteen minutes and one giant check later Azriel had bought his paintings with the promise to come pick them up after they were framed tomorrow. Finally closing the gallery I went home and dreamed of him that night.

——

Walking down the sunny streets of Velaris I’m lost in thought about Azriel. How I want to run my fingers to see if those raven locks are truly as soft as they look. Those hazel eyes and how I never want them to lose sight of me.

My phone incessantly buzzing in my bag pulls me from my thoughts. I groan as I search for it in the clutter of stuff I threw in this morning. Fifteen texts from Feyre and more incoming light up the lock screen.

Girl get here soon

Gavin is piissseeddd

What did u do lmao

He won’t tell me, plz tell me so I know before him. I wanna taunt him with this secret info

Oh boy. He must not be pleased about the new client. I quickly type out a text telling her I’d be there soon. Shoving my phone back in my bag, my pounding heart seems as loud as my footsteps. I’m practically jogging by the time I enter the gallery.

Feyre looks up at me from the desk. A wild and confused look is on her face like she was just handed the winning lottery ticket. “He’s been on the phone with Benny all morning. I could hear him screaming, what did you do?” A nervous laugh sounds on the last word.

As I open my mouth to answer the door to Gavin’s office flings open, hitting the wall inside with a violent thud. “You!” He seethes. “Why didn’t you call me about the client last night?!” He screeches as he stomps over to the desk like a child. “What was I supposed to do? Say, sorry, come back later? It was Azriel Morwood.” Feyre lets out a dramatic gasp leaning back in the spinny chair. Her eyes bounce between us, waiting to see what wild statement her ears will be blessed with next.

“I know damn well who the client was, and you’re not supposed to make sales! Remember? Or has your sense of self importance around here made it hard for you to remember that you're a fucking intern! And you have no right —” a throat clearing makes Gavin stop his berating. His face went pale as his eyes landed on Azriel and the two males flanking him.

Azriel raises a brow giving Gavin a quizzical look. Gavin puts on a fake smile striding to greet our guests. “Hello Mr. Morwood! How can I help you today? Is there a problem with your purchase that I can fix?” He shoots me a glare that I don’t notice. All I notice is Azriel. It feels like the whole world has melted away and it’s just us.

“No.” His tone cruel and cold. “I would like to talk to y/n. Alone.” He emphasizes the last word by pinning Gavin with a look that would send anyone running. The shock on Gavin’s face is fucking priceless as he backs away murmuring an apology.

I slowly approach Azriel trying to suppress my grin. He watches me with a gentle gaze. That charming smile pulling on his lips again. “Hi,” Mother above that deep, gravelly voice gives me chills. “Hi.” I whisper back. “Your paintings should be ready soon. I saw the framer when I came in.” Azriel slowly shakes his head. “No, not that. Well, yes, I’m here for the paintings. But I wanted to ask you something.” I blink up at him curiously tilting my head. What could he possibly want from me?

“Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?”