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miyukisu · 8 months ago

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If You're Down, Boy .ᐟ

❤︎ | Karasu thinks you've got quite a mouth on you—time for him to show you what he can do with his too and make you shut up (3k wc) ╰ feat. karasu tabito (bllk) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 7 | kinktober masterlist

tags - college au, you and karasu are mean to each other, enemies to lovers, hate smex, rough smex (?), handjobs, p in v, p*rn with plot, hair pulling, drunk smex, he slaps your ass once, unprotected smex, dubcon(?), profanity

minors do not interact

College life isn't complete without experiencing at least one frat party. At this point, joining a game of beer pong or spin-the-bottle were some of the pre-requisites before you leave the so-called hellscape.

You picked your poison and you ended up involved in a circle, playing the infamous game—Seven Minutes in Heaven.

Everyone knows what goes down in that game. People get laid. Well, maybe nine times out of ten—they do. You were hopeful you'd be one of those lucky cases because why not? You're in your youth and in college. This was the only time engaging in Seven Minutes in Heaven induced sex is acceptable.

Although, your hope quickly ran thin as soon as your friends declared that your partner was none other than Karasu Tabito. The alcohol you had consumed earlier began to cloud your thoughts as the cheers of the people around you flooded your senses.

Right in front of you—Karasu had a flat expression. It's like his face was telling you just how much he dreaded the thought of being stuck with you in the basement for 7 whole minutes.

It was an apt reaction to have. After all, you hated each other's guts.

The arguments you had 2 semesters ago rang through your head as your friends practically dragged you two to the basement, knowing that neither of you would have the initiative to do so.

You swore, the whole way down, his eyes were on you—judging and scrutinizing like he always did. That's precisely what annoys you about him. Karasu Tabito was so goddamn hypercritical and it really showed when you two worked together on a final project.

Who cares if he was smarter or better—does he have no concept of politness or respect? AT ALL? In the end, your relationship went up in flames and after that semester, you two wanted nothing to do with each other.

But, as you can see right now, being in a circle of mostly common friends made that impossible. And on this fine Friday night, you find yourself locked in the basement with your sworn enemy.

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You sat on the dusty staircase that led down to the basement while Karasu stood off to the side. For a large frat house, you didn't expect the basement to be so cramped and dim...

"Yer really not gon' speak at all huh?" he started.

You whipped your head to face him, expression already filled with confusion. "And what is there to talk about?"

"Irritable as ever—I see."

"Wow. I wonder what causes that. Hm?"

He lets out a chuckle of disbelief. For a moment, he had nothing to say back because he figured 2 semesters apart would be enough to at least ease the tension between the two of you. But it would seem that he was mistaken. Sourly mistaken, in fact.

"Still can't move on?" he asks with that all-knowing smirk of his. It irritated you even more to see him so relaxed, arms crossed over his chest and idly leaning against whatever junk was piled in this basement.

"If you got partnered up with anyone as mean as you—you'd understand how I feel," you retorted. Karasu only huffed in amusement before straightening his posture.

"Oh, I'm the mean one now? Seems like you forgot all of the things you said—"

"But you started it," you cut him off.

Both of you knew it was insanely childish to be arguing over a months old spat and debating on who started it all. But maybe it was the emotions building up over time or... the copious amounts of alcohol circulating in both of your systems.

"Yer such a child," he jeers. "And you're fucking annoying," you respond back.

Silence ensues until Karasu whispered something under his breath. "Bitch..."

You quickly shot up, fiery gaze locked on the taller man. "The fuck did you call me?"

Karasu looked down at you as you stood right in front of him. His eyes were dark, but dazed. "Ya heard me."

"Fuck you."

"Hm, ya wish ya could."

Your jaw fell open; the audacity of this man put you in shock. "Oh, please, you're probably a two pump chump anyway. Don't be so cocky."

"Heh, ya think I'm a quick one? Why don'cha see fer yerself? Or are ya too scared?"

The sudden shift to provocation was unexpected. You were prepared for him to come back with an emotionally fueled response—not this. Definitely not this.

"There's no way I'm touching you." You look off to the side, crossing your arms for full effect.

"I knew it."

With eyes narrowed, you returned your gaze to Karasu. "Knew what?"

"Yer a virgin aren'cha? Haven't seen a dick before huh?" And he laughs. Karasu bursts out in thundering laughter at the thought of you being inexperienced.

"You ass. I'm not."

It was a full-faced lie. Your last boyfriend busted even before you could get your clothes off. But that was irrelevant now that you're trying to keep your pride intact.

His laughter dies down. "Ah... that's what a virgin would say."

"Oh please. I bet I can do you in a minute," you tell him. It was only a second after then you realized that you just kept saying the first thing that came to mind. You were sober enough to hold a conversation and sit up properly, but clearly it was affecting your better judgment.

But rather than be opposed to it, Karasu matched your pace.

With an amused expression, he took on your challenge. "Hah! And I can do ya even faster. How 'bout that?"

Those devious eyes of his stared into yours. If it weren't for the booze—you probably wouldn't be agreeing to something so stupid.

────────────

As soon as the door to the basement swung open, you two stormed out. The once cheerful faces of your friends all faltered as they watched both of you get farther and farther away from the group.

Everyone assumed you two fought... again. Drunk and unbothered, they shrugged it off and went back to playing. They were none the wiser that just after entering a random bedroom on the second floor—you to got straight into business.

He was sat on one of the messy desks, pants unbuckled with his dick in your hand. You jerked him off at a quicker pace than usual; your pride was on the line after all. Besides, if he was hurt, he wouldn't be looking into your eyes like that.

"That all you got?" he asked, his voice a bit raspy.

You click your tongue in frustration. Truthfully, you had been expecting a completely different outcome—one wherein you would stay true to your word.

It had been more than a minute at this point. But, you placated yourself by thinking that you're fine as long as you can do it faster than him.

"Shut up," you retorted.

Karasu chuckled softly. "No one's cummin' at all if yer gon' be mean. Ya know?"

You looked him dead in the eye, anger boiling in the pits of your stomach. Of course, you could've goaded him into cumming with your words... or with your mouth, but in another sense. But you were set on winning this with minimal effort.

You ran your thumb over the slit, around the head. Hell, you even traced the underside of his dick, along the curve. But nothing. His expression never shifted once. It always remained in his neutral cocky expression.

Karasu eventually had enough. He grabbed your wrist, halting all your motions. "Jeez, yer terrible at this."

It was like a punch to the gut. But before you could take care of your bruised ego, Karasu had stood up from the desk, dragging you over to the bed by the wrist.

"H-hey, what are you doing?"

He threw you on top of the bed, creeping up from the foot of it. His eyes remained dark and determined. "Didn't I tell ya I could do ya faster? Well, let's jus' say this is my demonstration."

He deliberately crawled slowly to you before hovering just above your legs. Karasu wanted you to truly feel the impending doom... or pleasure rather. A calloused hand made contact with the top of your thigh which was a bit damp from sweat.

"Not lookin' too good for ya huh?"

"You talk as if you've made me cum already."

He laughs again in that same condescending tone. It made you want to rip your hair out, but it became increasingly difficult as his hand went further up. His fingertips ghosted over the skin that was barely covered by your skirt.

But the entire time, his eyes were still on your face.

"Heh... let's see how strong ya really are, shall we?"

He promptly lifts up your skirt with one hand while using the other to push your legs open. Unlike you who was influenced by alcohol and hubris, Karasu moved in a way that was deliberate and practiced. His confidence actually had roots.

A thumb slowly presses on to your throbbing clit. His smirk grows wider—if that was even possible—as he feels the wetness that pooled in your panties.

Truth be told, you hardly noticed it when you were so focused on stroking his dick earlier. But in your defense, you had a dick in your hand. And you may hate him, but it's undeniable that Karasu was still one of the most attractive men you've laid your eyes upon... that is, if he kept his mouth shut.

"Seems like ya made it easy fer me hm? Already gushing like a dam?"

"You're so fucking full of yourself."

"Hah... ya can be full 'f me too later—if ya behave yerself."

His raw words sent a jolt straight to your core. He barely gave you any time to recuperate as he dove straight to your sopping cunt, kissing it just above the fabric.

But he knew it wasn't going to cut it. He sat up again and swiftly pulled your panties off. Now that all was said and done, he got on to his stomach, hands holding you by the thighs to keep you in place. The scent of your arousal only served to make his dick swell even more as it rubbed against the covers of the bed.

He licked a long stripe up your folds, stopping to suckle at your clit. He made sure to spend an ungodly amount of time doing so—ensuring that you lose your mind from how good it felt. You instinctively arched your back, trying to move away, but his grip on your thighs only strengthened.

"Maybe if ya used your mouth on me like this... instead of whinin' ... maybe I woulda... maybe I woulda cum," he spoke between licks.

Karasu only went faster from there. He lapped up at your folds like there was no tomorrow. Both of your shaking hands found purchase in his hair chock full of gel. You knew he hated it when his hair got messed up, but this was one of the rare instances where he didn't mind at all.

A chocked out moan echoes through the room. The way he ate pussy was mind numbingly good that you had no way of stopping whatever sounds came out of your mouth.

"F-fuck," you exclaim, legs shaking as his tongue begins to prod your entrance. His pretty and pointy nose kept poking your aching clit unintentionally.

All at once—without warning—a blinding orgasm comes over you. With all your senses overwhelmed, you relax; your fingers slowly unfurl from his messed up locks. Your back lies flat against the mattress again as your chest rises up and down rhythmically.

He was kind enough to let you ride out your climax on his tongue. The whole time you were so enveloped in pleasure—his eyes were on your face and on your every expression.

Karasu gave your clit one final kiss before sitting up again, his dick bobbing from the movement. He used the back of his hand to wipe of your slick from his satisfied grin.

"Ah... shucks. No one was keepin' track of time huh? Can't blame ya. Seein' how fucked out ya look right now."

Another chuckle reverberates from his chest. Karasu was thoroughly amused by the chain of events. Maybe after seeing a more vulnerable side from you—he might reconsider his opinion on you. Keyword: Might.

"Oh shut up," you say for the nth time tonight.

"That how ya treat the guy that made ya cum so good?"

You let out an exasperated huff, annoyed that he one upped you. Even if he did eat your pussy out like a starved man—the fact remaind unchanged. Karasu Tabito was still your enemy.

"I don't... I don't care because you're still a fucking asshole."

Well, shit... seems like his opinion of you hasn't changed at all. If you hate him still, then it would only feel right to reciprocate those feelings.

Karasu groans, running his hand over his face and through his hair. "That so? Guess what, darlin'? This fuckin' asshole jus' won this bet," he says while pointing to himself. "And winners hafta claim their prizes."

"W-what?"

He easily flips you over like you weighed nothing. Those muscles were certainly not just easy on the eyes. Karasu was insanely strong. His long fingers dug into the flesh of your hips as he pulled your lower half up.

Your cheek was pressed into the bed with your ass up in the air. He made quick work of you, pulling your arms behind you and restraining you with a single hand.

For a while there was no other movement because he took his sweet time to appreciate the sight in front of him.

Karasu whistles, slapping your ass once. "Nice."

You tried saying something—anything to let him know that you haven't given up. But the sheer anticipation of his cock filling you, kept your mouth shut.

You hated him... but maybe not his dick.

"Were ya sayin' somethin'? My bad, darlin'. Can't hear ya over the sound of my dick goin' inside ya."

And he did just that—in one fluid motion, he stuck half of his length into your cunt. He hissed, not expecting for it to be this tight and warm.

"Nevermind yer mouth—if ya used this right from the start—I woulda busted instantly," he murmured.

Karasu threw his head back, only moving back-and-forth slightly. Soft and sweet mewls fell from your glossy lips.

This wasn't enough. You wanted even more. So much so that it was the only thing you could communicate to him. And he was more than happy to comply.

Not because you asked him to, but because he was planning on teaching you a lesson anyway.

"Try not ta break a'ight?"

But those words juxtaposed the harsh thrust of his hips. The sound of skin roughly slapping against each other filled the messy room. At this point, even Karasu found it hard to keep quiet.

"Been wantin' ta do this forever.... puttin' you in yer place and whatnot."

You only responded in short and ragged moans. Even though he had a vice-like grip on your arms, the pain barely registered as it was overwhelmed with sheer pleasure.

"Yeah? Feels great, right? If ya were nicer ta me... we coulda done this sooner huh?

Your pussy wrapped around his cock and the satisfaction of finally having you to his mercy slowly pushed him to the edge. Every rough thrust was fueled by all the pent up frustration he had for you over the months of being absolute assholes to each other.

It was a dangerous concoction of anger and lust boiling over, resulting in—this.

"Fuuuuuck," he drawled out. Karasu finally let go of your arms, letting them fall to your side. You quickly gripped on to the sheets as if to hold on to what remains of your composure.

Instead, he held on to your hips. His tight grip was almost bruising as he frantically chased the high you failed to give him earlier with your poor handjob. He pistoned in and out of you without care. All he sought after was his own high. You already came earlier, so he could care less at this point.

He kept bullying his cock into you, every sweet drag against your walls had you crying out. At one point, you even whined out his name. But you hardly noticed. Things spilled naturally from your mouth.

Even he almost missed it. But hearing his name fall from your lips in such a beautiful tone was music to his ears... and fuel for his dick. He wasn't sure what came over him, but he began pulling at your hair. It's like he was goading you into saying his name over and over again.

His pace never faltered once. He wouldn't have even broken into a sweat if it weren't for the humid room.

The final nail in the coffin for him was your 2nd climax. Your pussy sucked his dick in like it wants it to never leave. You fluttered around his length, messing up his rhythm for a moment.

"Shit... for an annoyin' woman like ya... ya sure have the sweetest pussy."

"Karasu..." you helplessly breathed out.

As if on cue, his thrusts had another hiccup, indicating that his own climax was near. But he was quick enough to pull out, making a 'pop' sound as he did.

He shuddered as he shot out long hot ropes of cum over the curve of your ass.

Much to his dismay, he had to settle for rubbing himself off to cum. But he wasn't about to finish inside you. The thought of him and you making an accident sent shivers down his spine, honestly.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #karasu tabito #karasu x reader #karasu smut

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rueclfer · 4 months ago

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party 4 u // touya todoroki

when it's not a party unless he's with you.

a/n: hi 😀😀😀 written portion kinda pornographic but also kinda not lmaaoooooimsosorry

the click of your bedroom door barely wakes you from your fever induced haze. you fall in and out of consciousness for a minute to the rustling of keys and clothes until his voice draws you awake.

"m'sorry, baby." the slurred words slipped out of touya's mouth.

he's too loud for this hour- too loud for your condition. you almost let yourself believe that you're dreaming until the cold bedroom brings goosebumps to your bare skin as the comforter is pulled away from under your nose.

before the groan could escape your parted lips, you feel his swollen lips meet with the temple of your forehead, trailing down to the side of your jaw.

"you said you wouldn't bother me," you mumble, turning on your back and finding the silhouette of his figure standing beside your bed and bent over you.

"missed you too much," he lowly says, matching the volume of your whisper.

touya reaches down and cups your cheeks in his hands, swiping his thumb back and forth against the tender skin under your eyes. "and you're burning up. what kind of a boyfriend would i be if i didn't come take care of you?"

"the kind of boyfriend that lets me sleep." you whine.

touya shakes off his jacket and tosses it onto the floor, ready to crawl into bed with you until he's stopped by your palm lying flat against his chest.

"no outside clothes in bed." you groan, rubbing the crust from your eye with one hand, and using the other to prop yourself up. "why do i always have to remind you?"

he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he peels his t-shirt up over his head, building onto the pile of clothing he started on the floor beside your bed.

"such a fuckin' princess even on your deathbed."

"you wish i was on my deathbed." you croak out, shooting him a side glance once your eyes had adjusted to the dark.

after stripping himself down to his boxers, he crawls on top of you, pulling the comforter over your bodies with him.

"you're so fucking warm," he purs against your neck, gently pushing you down onto your back and peppering your skin with hot kisses.

"i hate you," you mutter, accepting the heat absorbing through your front where you two made contact. "how much did you drink tonight, huh?"

"wouldn't you like to know?" he huffed a chuckle, letting the exhale of his breath brush against your collarbone. "lost every drinking game though, if that answers your question."

"figures." your voice falters into a faint whisper as your eyes fall shut.

touya lets his cold hands roam the skin under your pajama shirt. he knows you hate when he warms his freezing cold appendages against you, but between the sickness fogging your brain, the light suction of his mouth against your neck, and him trailing his flushed palm up and down your waist with his thumb stopping just millimeters short of your chest, you could barely focus on being annoyed.

"touya,” you breathe out. “it’s late. go to sleep.”

he removes his face from the crook of your neck and prop his elbows up beside your head, caging you in under him. your eyes open to see him illuminated by the streetlights seeping in from the crack in between your blinds.

cerulean eyes- bloodshot, lidded, and staring down at your own.

“i haven’t seen you all day.” he pouts, the rasp in his voice cracking in between his words.

“i saw you in class this morning.” you roll your eyes.

“i haven’t kissed you all day.” he corrects.

“my body hurts, my throat is killing me, i have a fever, i have your dumbass texting me and breaking into my apartment in the middle of the night, and you’re sad and pouty that you haven’t gotten a kiss from me all day?”

“exactly, but don’t forget,” he smirks, leaning in to press his lips onto yours, “i was a brave boy for you tonight.”

touya kisses you with fervent desire- a day’s worth of missing you was enough to disregard the sickness that would surely have him bedridden like yourself within the next couple of days.

“so brave, touy,” you huff in defeat. "so brave for willingly getting sick for the sake of getting your dick wet.” you tease in between kisses.

“and don’t expect me to take care of you when that does happen.” you say once he breaks away, pressing open-mouthed hot kisses down the column of your neck, your collar bones, the valley in between your chest, and then to the middle of your abdomen where your t-shirt had ridden up.

touya moved further down- kicking the comforter off to the side and leaving you with goosebumps crawling across your bare arms and stomach.

“you taking care of me?” touya almost laughs.

he glides a hand down to your pajama shorts, giving your inner thigh a harsh squeeze before hooking a finger through a leg hole and out the other, pulling it to the side.

"fuck," he whispers under his breath.

with a slow exhale hissing between his teeth, he finally looks up to meet your eyes.

“be brave for me, okay? you know i'll always take care of you.”

touya tag: @kaldurahms-lover @moonchild701 @themultifandomgirl @devilslittlehelper @porusuniverse @ratatellie @katbug37 @ggriwm @moonlitmorganite @touyas-wife @bitchyfestivalbouquet @haruhi269 @celtyshiftingrealitiddies

mha tag: @lotuslovers @babylambdietcoke @0skullyard0 @kaldurahms-lover @commonmisery @moonstonejpg @twoplayergaymers @simp-plague @xvilluis @haruhi269

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arbitrarykiwi · 5 months ago

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Hii!! I love your writing sm so can i request a reader x thanos and nam-gyu (but mostly nam-gyu hehe) where they are like really close friends like before the games, they always used to hang out at eachothers apartments, smoked weed and all that shit. And when reader went to the games without telling anyone and she saw nam-gyu and thanos and they got really mad at reader for not telling them where she was going (even tho they did the same) but then became like rlly protective over reader throughout the games.

(I’m so sorry if it doesn’t make sense, i’m really bad with english but i tried my best 😭)

What's Better Than One Boyfriend?! TWO Boyfriends!!!

FIRST OF ALLL THANK YOU FOR MY VERY FIRST REQUEST?! OUUU this is so fun?!!! I read smoke weed with Thanos AND Nam-gyu and was IN!! I made definitely it pretty much straight up Nam-gyu x reader x Thanos, def more centered to Nam-gyu though! I just got too excited 😩 so you got your two boyfriends malewives I hope you like it 🫶😩😩🫶

Warnings: 18+ drug usage, weed smoking, some mildly spicy parts, two boyfriends!!, all yall are in debt, proof read but prolly got spelling errors, in a universe where thanos and nam-gyu are besties before the squid games, probably ooc thanos and nam-gyu, i cant think of anything else.

You’re not sure exactly what your relationship with the two of them was. You never cared to ask. But fuck was it so nice.

You suppose you could say you were dating Nam-gyu, you’ve known him for a while, hanging around the same group of people, eventually ending up becoming friends with benefits- then more. You’ve gone out on dates, done many things that have exceeded the “friends with benefits” label but have never gone to call it anything. And you knew neither of you were seeing anyone else…

Well no one else besides Choi Su-bong, or Thanos as he prefers to be called. He came into the picture shortly after you and Nam-gyu have been seeing each other. The best friends they were, they had to just share something as sweet as you.

It was odd. In a good way. You never thought you’d find yourself in this situation. And you didn’t mind it one bit.

They were like your two boyfriends. Though Nam-gyu makes it very obvious you were with him first and he was being gracious to share you with Thanos. The wild purple haired rapper would happily agree, finding this a more than favorable situation. It was the one thing Nam-gyu knew he had over Thanos.

They were strangely, overprotective, spoil you (in more ways than one), and after a night of partying or promoting that sleazy club- they always returned to your apartment.

Always returned to you. Always found themselves in your bed- sandwiching you between them as they pass the blunt back and forth over you- taking turns to shotgunning the smoke into your mouth. Hands gripping your jaw or throat to guide your face back and forth between their kisses.

And you loved it.

When they would practically bust down your apartment door in a pill induced haze, four hands fighting with the key you gave them to unlock it- it wasn’t going well considering they were both tripping in ways you never cared to imagine. Both of the needing to get their hands on you, to feel you- you’d meet them at the door, pulling it open to be bombarded by their groping hands and excited kisses.

And after multiple hours, and multiple rounds in positions you’ve only dreamed of- you always found yourself entangled in a sweaty mess of limbs passing the blunt over to the two of them as they came down from their highs.

“Always so good f’us.” Thanos mumbled from his spot lying on your stomach, arm splayed over your torso, keeping you pinned to the bed, placing light kisses over the bruises Nam-gyu left on your skin.

“I know… isn’t she just perfect… n’ she’s all ours” Nam-gyu would respond, placing opening mouth kisses along your neck, one of his hands placed over your breast, just kneading the flesh as if it was his own personal stress ball. They often talked like that- as if you weren’t there, just gushing to each other about how much they adore you (or how well you take both of them).

When you’d have a hard day at work, telling both of them you’re not feeling up to hanging out, just wanting to go home alone and go to bed, they would pick the fucking lock on your apartment, breaking in to make themselves comfy on your bed.

When you’d come home exhausted- not even realizing the lock was picked because they locked it behind them- and walk across your living room, down a hallway and open up your bedroom door, head lifting from the floor seeing two people you didn’t expect to be there in your bed- You’d scream, dropping your stuff.

You’d gather yourself, seeing them both shirtless on your bed, both leaned over a rolling tray that’s in between them, working to roll blunts.

Thanos is stopping to hit his vape as he places the ground up weed into the wrap, tattoos on full view. His hair is messy, but it’s not spiked up- instead it’s down in its natural state, a slight wave to the strands.

Nam-gyu even has his glasses on- something he knows you love and beg him to wear more. His hair tucked behind his ear as his ringed fingers work on his own blunt. When he wraps it, his tongue comes out of his mouth to lathe across the wrap of the blunt to seal it.

It’s a beautiful sight. Truly. But did they have to scare the life out of you?!!

“Woahhh! Easy there beautiful!” Thanos would say, sitting up from his spot on your bed, hands thrown up in a mock defensive position. They’re both giggling, find your scream and reaction to them oh so enjoyable. “Calm down baby, s’just us.” Nam-gyu would echo, holding out the finished blunt to you. “You said you were havin’ a rough day. Figure we could make it a personal night.” He hums.

You let out a sigh, your heart still racing. You glare at them angrily, clutching your chest. But it doesn’t stay long, you loosen up, shoulders dropping and nodding with a pout. A personal night is just what you need. On rare occasions you didn’t share a blunt between the three of you, three blunts would be rolled- one for each of you.

You kick off your shoes and pull off your jeans before crawling on the bed. They move the rolling tray, and you plop down on the bed face first in between them. You inhale, the scent of both of them stuck on your sheets. Their hands immediately begin to run up and down your back and arms, feather light touches calming you down.

“You guys suck for breaking in here.” Your words are muffled by the pillows of your bed. They both laugh, Nam-gyu leaning further down, hand moving up to brush your hair back. You turn your face to him, playfully glaring at him. He just scoffs at your attitude, leaning down and placing a kiss on your lips. It’s soft and sweet, just what you needed after a long day.

“But ‘s just what you needed, huh?” Thanos says, leaning over you to begin peppering kisses along the back of your shoulder and down your back. He moves back up, your head turning to look at him and nodding. “Mhm…” you mumble out in a tired sound. He leans down, connecting his lips with yours- same as Nam-gyu, though his kiss is a bit more rough.

When he pulls away you flip yourself over onto your back a smile spreading across your lips as you look up to both of them looking over you, pupils already blown and eyes red. “Oh you fucks!! You started without me!”

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t help it…we had to sample the product before we came.” Nam-gyu says with a drugged out smile. You roll your eyes and playfully shove both them back while you sit up. “Whatever! Y’all are losers!! Now give me my blunt.” You tease, holding out your hand.

Thanos provides you with the blunt, placing a kiss on your knuckles as you retract your hand. You place the blunt to your lips, turning your head towards Nam-gyu who holds the lighter. He scoots closer, cupping his hand around the end of your blunt to shield your face, lighting the end.

They both sit back as they watch you take your first inhale. The smoke fills your lungs with a comforting heat, pouring out of your mouth in thick swirling trails. When you put the blunt back up to your mouth, taking a drag, the cherry lighting up in a vibrant red-orange, the both lean into you, each with a blunt hanging from their lips.

The ends of their blunts come into contact with yours, and as you continue to inhale- their blunts begin to spark and ignite. They pull back, inhaling their own fill of the weed they bought.

So there you’d be, in just a tank top and panties, both your doting male companions curled up on the bed on either side of you. Nam-guy’s head was laid on your right thigh while Thanos was laid on your left thigh.

With the hand that’s not bringing the blunt to your mouth, you’d have it brushing through their hair. You’d have to switch which hand you’re smoking with every so often as they would complain if you’d been neglecting them for too long (it would only ever be a couple minutes, they just can’t get enough of your attention!)

Other nights you found yourselves up late into the night, each doing your own thing just simply enjoying the presence of one another.

There was one hot summer night, it was so hot you were only wearing a pair of shorts and a cut off shirt of Thanos’ that you borrowed. You had three fans going in your room yet it never seemed like enough.

You were partially propped up on your bed, resting on your elbows and the inside of your knees, your head at the food end of the bed, leaning over the edge to play with Nam-gyu’s hair while he sits on the floor.

Nam-gyu was sitting with his back to the foot of the bed, legs stretched out in front of him, his finger working rapidly against the joysticks of the controller that he held in his lap, his eyes trained on the video game his was playing. He wouldn’t admit it but it was hard to focus with how nice your fingers felt playing with his hair. Nails lightly raking against his scalp as you brush the dark strands back and out of his face, fingertips brushing against his ears every so often causing goosebumps to erupt over his arms despite the hot temperatures of the room.

Thanos wasn’t absent. He was situated behind you, back against a pile of pillows so he could sit farther up on the bed rather than against the head board. He scrolls lazily on his phone, his legs spread a little so you were situated nicely against him, your legs over his, your ass nestled nicely against his lap. He uses your ass as a shelf, propping his wrist up as he aimlessly taps through his apps. His other hand is under your shorts, just resting against the flesh of your ass, squeezing the flesh softly every once in a while- he really just loved to touch you.

You’d stay like this for hours, sometimes Thanos would send you a video, your hands would depart from Nam-gyu’s hair for a moment to grab your phone and watch what he sent- laughing along with him at the video. When you’d put your phone down and turn back to Nam-gyu you’d see he had paused the game and tilted his head back to look at you with a frown.

It would only make you giggle, scooting forward a bit to lean over the bed to grab his face and place a kiss on his forehead, mumbling an ‘you’re so needy’ before returning your hands to his hair- and he resumes the game.

And you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

However….

You knew running with them and the crowd you found yourself in even before you were entangled with them, it was never a safe option. Too often you heard them complaining about the debt they found themselves in- doing nothing to stop it and even making it worse with lavish parties and binges.

You yourself found yourself in hot waters, trying your best to both help them and keep yourself afloat. It wasn’t easy, all three of you were in debt. You really, really cared for both of them, but neither of them were on the best path. You couldn’t speak much better about yourself. Regardless, bills were unforgivable and work didn’t pay well. If you had all the money in the world you’d pay everything off and build a house for the three of you in some far off secluded area away from the world that was out to get all of you.

So of course when a strange, well dressed man with a brief case offered you a large amount of money to play a child’s game in the subway late one night- you couldn’t say no.

You played and played, losing more times than you can count. Repeating the same cycle of throwing the paper square, winning a few rounds before eventually having a hand collide with your cheek. And when he eventually called the game, even after your cheek is bruised and you’re begging to play again, he simply hands you brown paper card and bows- packing up his brief case with the colorful origami squares.

Before he leaves, he promises that more money, even more than you won with that game, will come if you call that number on the back of the card.

You sat in that subway for hours, missing your bus to just sit on the metal bench. In one hand you held the large sum of money you won- it would definitely help you but it wouldn’t do anything to touch the amount of debt you were in.

You return home, thankful they were both passed out in your bed. You smile to yourself, looking to them in the bed. They’re both just in boxers, very obviously having fallen asleep on opposite sides of the bed but had migrated towards each other, in a tangle of what you would call cuddling- but if you told them that what they were doing they’d definitely deny it.

It’s a sweet secret you keep to yourself. Your boys. It was just what you needed after coming home from what you just experienced. You silently shed your clothes, putting on one of Nam-gyu’s shirts, the fabric swallowing you.

You crawl into the bed, trying your best not to wake them. You settled into between them, they both stir- sleepy mumbles and acknowledgment of your presence coming out of their lips. It’s like second nature to them as they curl around your form.

Nam-gyu’s arm falls around your torso, squeezing your waist. He settles his head right in the crook of your neck, nuzzling his nose along your flesh, placing a light kiss as he falls back asleep. Thanos is rested against your breast on the opposite side, arm resting on top of your stomach, right under Nam-gyu’s.

A smile spreads across your face, your eyes feeling heavy. You fall asleep quickly, the warmth of both their bodies enveloping you in a heavenly wave of comfort. The worry of debt could wait just a bit longer….

But eventually you called that number. You needed anything to help you keep yourself afloat. And after a very cryptic phone call with an automated voice, you’re given a pick up location and a date and time.

You enter into the limousine cautiously, were you really about to do this? The looming threat of eviction and debt that seems to keep rising pushes you forward. You take the handle into your shaky hands and open the black door. The interior is just as luxurious as the exterior.

You settle into the seat, body stiff and heart racing. When your eyes settle to in front of you. You see a golden piggy bank. You can hear your heart beat in your ears, your leg is bouncing anxiously. You can’t even focus on what the pig that’s seemingly a speaker is saying.

“Are you sure you’d like to continue?” The sentence brings you back out of your haze. You swallow thickly and nod. You curse to yourself, the fucking piggybank can’t see you. “Y-yes.” You croak out.

It’s silent for a moment. Almost like the golden pig is contemplating your answer. Then there’s a fog filling the car. You’re panicked, eyes wide as you inhale the gas. What the fuck did you get yourself into?

It’s not long before your eyes are heavy and whatever type of gas that was knocks you clean out.

————/————

A loud tune playing on what sounds like over head speakers is causing you to groan and stir. Your eyes open but are soon shut back, blinded by the large florescent lights that line the ceiling of where ever you are. You groan, sitting up. You open your eyes again, squinting them and looking down to try and adjust to the light.

You’re on a bed you see. It’s high up. It looks over what seems like hundreds of other beds, hundreds of people beginning to wake up like you. You see they’re all in matching track suits, all sporting different numbers. You furrow your eyebrows, confused. Your memory was foggy but you knew you were going to join some games for money- and this was not what you were expecting.

You look out over the room, it’s a large warehouse like area. Bricks and various drawings line the walls. You kneel, trying to get a better look. Up front there’s a raised area, almost like a stage. There also seems to be only three doors in this large room. One large one behind the raised platform of the room and two smaller ones level with the ground on either side of the raised platform. None of them had handles.

Seriously, what the fuck did you get yourself into?!?!

You watch as people begin to file out of the beds, congregating in the center of the room, exchanging confused and uneasy glances at their new roommates. If you weren’t so on edge you would have thought this was neat, like a social experiment of abnormal gatherings and you were the onlooking researcher. But you weren’t the researcher, you were also one of the guinea pigs stuck in the experiment.

You stay put, figuring it’s best to stay back as the majority of people decent into the middle of the room. Your eyes dart around anxiously, trying to take in every last detail of the brick prison you’ve woken up in.

Your attention is drawn back to the podium when the large door opens, multiple masked guards walk out, in pink tracksuits with shapes on their masks. This is so fucking weird. You thought to yourself. They begin to explain why you are all here- that you all called that same number.

You watch as someone calls out, angrily shouting about how they were drugged and basically kidnapped. You hear murmurs of “yeah”’s fall out of other people’s mouths, agreeing with the stranger.

From the high bunk you found yourself on you, looked at the guards, standing stoically as the hundreds of individuals begin to angrily talk over each other. Yelling out to the guards about belongings and being stripped naked to be put in these track suits. You didn’t bother to chime in, already feeling weird enough about this situation you woke up in, you did not need more attention on you.

That’s when a familiar voice pipes up. He’s arguing with the guards. Over shoes of all things. Your eyes dart over the crowd hoping you wouldn’t see what you thought you would….but you did….purple hair.

It can’t be him. You think to yourself. You’re hoping it isn’t, there’s plenty of other people who have purple hair. But when the guard retaliates by playing a video on the large screen behind them, your heart drops.

“Choi Su-bong, player 230…” you don’t even hear what else the guard says, your eyes are trained to the screen watching your purple hair partner hit his vape.

So it is him…

Your eyes dart down to the bright purple hair in the sea of players. Next to Thanos, leaning up against his back over his shoulder is Nam-gyu. You can tell it’s him. Your heart drops…they’re both here. They both played that same game you did, more than likely getting slapped, then getting drugged and eventually ending up exactly where you were.

You were pissed. Was it irrational? Yes, you made the exact same choice they did. But you were the voice of reason in whatever relationship you three had, they promised you they wouldn’t do anything dumb- yet here they are. It’s dumb for you to be here too but hey! You’re the angel out of the three of them, you deserved to do something dumb.

You were about to make your way down the stairs, to haul yourself through the sea of people to scold them but when the guard at the podium says your name- throwing the video of you getting slapped and your debt amount to the mass of players- you know you’re fucked.

You can see the way both of their shoulders fall, the way both of them tense up. Then they’re both rapidly looking around, you know they’re about to scold you. You swear to yourself, of course all three of you signed up for some sketchy game after getting slapped by some creepy salesman. Just your luck.

Your eyes widen like a deer in headlights when you realize Nam-gyu has spotted you. It’s like a sniper looking down the scope at their target. You can see him nudge Thanos, pointing you out to the purple haired man.

You know you’re about to get reamed.

They both look at you, it’s a strange mix of relief, worry and anger. You’re literally frozen like a kid who got caught sneaking cookies in the middle of the night- thinking that if you freeze on spot you won’t be able to be seen.

The crowd begins to mumble to each other, a mix of hushed whispers and angered shouts. You see them begin to push through the crowd and you sigh- you know you might as well accept your fate. If you were in this strange place in this very unique situation- at least you’re with them. You make your way down the metal stairs, eyebrows furrowed- thankful you had them here but pissed off that they went ahead and gambled again- sure you’re a hypocrite for doing the same thing….but that’s different. Right?

When you get to the bottom of the metal stairs, white sneakers hitting the concrete floor they’re shoving past the last wall of people and walking quickly towards you. You begin to open your mouth to scold them but Thanos is picking you up off your feet and pushing you into the corner of the room- under the metal bunks and away from the other players.

Nam-gyu is right behind him, a scowl on his face.

They didn’t know what was going down here in this place you all found yourself waking up in, but they knew they didn’t need these other people here spying in on your relationship. They were both narcissists at heart- they wanted to keep up appearances.

You’re caged into the wall, looking up at them defiantly, trying to keep your look of anger as they tower over you.

If it was any other situation you would have found it hot- the way they look over you, both glaring down at you with a look of disappointment and and the usual hunger they have when they look at you. But you’re so mad at them. You can’t believe they did the same thing you did. You also didn’t even know the extent of Thanos’ debt, you can only imagine what Nam-gyu’s was, and there they were, obviously having gambling away with the same creepy subway salesman to have made it here.

It doesn’t matter that you did the same thing.

They’re both equally as angry. For one you were in the subway alone in the middle of the night, as evidence from the video the guards played- something they hated you doing. One or both of them would show up to accompany you to where ever you needed to go like guard dogs. Why didn’t you text them to ask them to come with you like you normally would when you had to go somewhere?

And for as much as they knew about you, you kept your debt private. So the fact you were even here- they now knew you obviously were in the same shit they were in. They both were irritated you didn’t tell them, they would have helped you (even though they literally didn’t have the money to).

You look to their jackets. The numbers 124 and 230 stitched to the patch of the jacket. You look down at yours 014. You wonder if the numbers had anything to do with who called that damned number first- securing their spot in this game earlier. If it was…you apparently called in first.

It seems the stare down ends when you all speak at once, the tension finally reaching its boiling point

“You dumb motherfuckers!”

“Are you stupid?!”

“Señorita! Why are you here???”

You all kind of stand there for a second after all speaking hushed angry whispers. All sharing a similar look of anger. “You went to the subway alone at night!?” Nam-gyu begins to scold. “You were all on our asses about gambling and look- there you were gambling and getting slapped in the subway!” Thanos says, his tone angry but his voice is still in a hushed whisper.

You immediately turn to Thanos, shoving an accusatory finger to his sternum, “I’m not the one 1.19 billion in the hole.” You seethe. That seems to shut him up, obviously angering him even more but he just clenches his jaw.

“Okay, well you’re obviously in debt too if you’re here” Nam-gyu begins trying to defend both of them. You whip your head towards him, your look is enough to kill a man. He is faced with the realization that a lot of your debt probably stems from being with them- being around them. They both don’t have the best lifestyle and neither do you, hell you were running the same game they were when Nam-gyu met you, you were tripping at a club when he first met you- you weren’t exactly a saint. Nam-gyu always thought you could do better than that, than them. But you never ran from them, sure you were way less wild than when he first met you, but you still kept around the same people and surrounded yourself with the lifestyle.

Nam-gyu can speak, instead he surges forward, pulling you into him and wrapping one arm around your waist- the other cradling your head against his chest. He didn’t like knowing that you went through the same process he did with getting into this situation. He didn’t like knowing that he was part of the reason you were here. He didn’t like knowing you were now stuck in this same prison of unknowns that they were. You didn’t deserve it.

You’re squished against him, head facing towards Thanos who’s still staring at you disapprovingly but it’s so much softer than before. You make a useless attempt at frowning at him, although your cheeks are squished under Nam-guy’s hold- making it look like an adorable pout.

He smiles, it’s a small one- but a smile nonetheless, reaching over to smooth out your hair and cup your cheek- the same one he witnessed you getting slapped on by that salesman. “Can’t believe he touched you like that…” He mumbles, it’s a low growl.

“You’re so fucking stupid for coming here….” Nam-gyu mumbles, his words harsh but you can tell it’s because he’s genuinely worried, his mind replaying that dammed video those guards blasted on the big screen. “I’ll kill that sleazy fuck who did that to you..” he says, his hands shaking against you as he keeps you cradled against him.

You let out a huff, pulling apart from Nam-gyu to lightly shove his chest, then turning to Thanos to do the same. “I’m stupid?! You two did the same thing!! After I told both of you to quit wasting your money- which encompasses gambling on some kid game and coming here!” You huff out looking between both of them.

“Baby, we just wanted to get some money f’us.” Nam-gyu says, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, squishing them inwards. His voice is sickeningly sweet, you know he’s trying to con you out of your anger, manipulating you how he wanted to get his way. And it works

“You’re both schtill so dumb n I’m schtill mad.” You hiss, words slurred by Nam-guy’s hands. Your eyebrows furrowed and lips turned into a pout- although it’s a sorry excuse for one with the way his hands are pressing your cheeks together. The two men laugh, it’s a precious sight truly.

So mad at them but still so adorable, like an angry little kitten. “Mhm…bet you are you lil’ minx.” Nam-gyu coos at you with a wide grin on his face- you can’t help but to ease up, the feeling of his twitching hands holding your face and his wide smile makes your heart swell.

“You also pulled the same dumb fuckin move though, princess.” Thanos says, his voice scolding but he’s smiling along with Nam-gyu.

The guards up front are beginning to say something about signing a waiver to continue to play, the players beginning to line up.

“So just stick by us n we’ll keep ya safe. With all three of us here we will make so much money.” Nam-gyu sings to you in a sickly sweet tone that you know is going to make you lose your anger. You can’t stay mad at him for long.

But you’re still about to protest- yes money sounds amazing but being drugged to get here, stripped of your clothes and put into matching tracksuits- something isn’t right. Nam-gyu shuts you up by placing a kiss on your lips. It’s slow, making your knees weak, making sure you feel every inch of his lips. And when he pulls back Thanos takes his place, kissing you, it’s a soft but eager, your mind going blank with kisses from both of them. Any retaliation you could think of was washed away by their lips- which is exactly what they wanted.

“C’mon princess, go sign it so we can all win big and get these games on the road.” Thanos says pulling away and pushing you lightly out in front of them. Nam-gyu places a light slap on your ass before following directly behind you.

The two of them walking so their chests practically touch your back. And when you go up and sign the paper, they cheer you on from the crowd.

It’s impossible for anyone to get near you in the games without the two of them, one over each shoulder judging the person to see if they’re good enough to be near you. With your two guard dogs protecting you, you three are unstoppable.

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lovelettersfromluna · 1 year ago

Text

Champagne Coast

Summary: Ellie’s a dickhead that knows exactly how to make you feel good….go figure.

an: this one is a little short, but I have lots planned for the next chapter! I hope you all enjoy regardless 🤍

Warnings: MDNI!! 18+ ONLY, smut!, angst!, Ellie is…she’s really bad at the beginning of this one I’m sorry, mean!Ellie, reader has a brother (he’s a sweetheart but also a moron), new girl in town who is very mean to reader, jealousy, slight sub!Ellie if you squint, needy!Ellie, tribbing? (Idek if what they do is considered tribbing you let me know if it is), lazy make out, mentions of weed and alcohol, Ellie is TIPSY not fucked up during the sex scene I promise, Ellie sucks on readers nipple, please lmk if I missed anything!

Taglist: @elliessgfsstuff @gaylittleellie @quinnister @hopelesssheaven @beelzcutiie @luvrluvrr @mikaaj @lasmirabels

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

If you thought the events that took place at the party last weekend was going to change yours and Ellie’s dynamic in any way shape or form…

You were sorely mistaken.

You weren’t entirely sure what would happen after that night with Ellie, or why it even happened to begin with. It hurt your head to even think about it, any attempt at trying to figure out why the hell Ellie of all people would ever want to do those things to you was headache inducing. You even questioned your own sanity for a bit, wondering if it was all a hazy dream as a result of your drunken state, because surly that made more sense than Ellie following you up to your room to eat your pussy until you saw stars.

But no, not even you had an imagination strong enough to create a feeling like the one Ellie gave you that night.

So if she did come up to your room to kiss you like that, and touch you like that, and make you feel like that then…

Surly things would change, right?

Wrong

You didn’t even look too deep into things, even though the circumstances called for it. You didn’t think this meant something more than it truly was, like it was Ellie’s sick and twisted way of dangling you by a thread for nearly your entire life just to blow your mind one night at a random party to admit that she has a crush on you or something, there was no way that was the case. Ellie was a lot of things, but she wasn’t that good at hiding her feelings.

Which was why you knew that wasn’t this. You knew Ellie didn’t like you, you knew that you’ve been nothing more than a constant bump in the road that stopped her and your brother from doing all the things they wanted, she had made that clear to you from the moment she met you.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t want to at least talk to her about things.

Talking to Ellie became nearly impossible after that night.

Sure, her and your brother were never really at home. They had very busy schedules being who they were, they were almost always invited to different outings or parties that people around town had, so their presence was rather scarce almost all the time.

But that didn’t mean that they weren’t ever home, there would be ‘rest days’ where they would rot on your couch playing video games and eating left over pizza, nursing a nasty hangover or hiding away from a particularly hot summer sun. There would be at least two days out of the week where you weren’t all alone in the big house.

It had been almost three weeks since the party, and you hadn’t seen Ellie or your brother since.

You got small glimpses of Ellie dragging your brother out to his car early in the morning when you were just waking up, or pulling in to the driveway late at night long after you’d gone to sleep, giving up on trying to wait up on them to watch a movie or something.

And you weren’t an idiot, you caught onto the sudden disappearance of the two very quickly, and it was clear to see that this wasn’t along the lines of their usual summer festivities.

No, Ellie was avoiding you.

Which made things all the more confusing. You weren’t sure if she was doing it for you, or for her own comfort, or if she was just embarrassed that it had even happened, regretting the events so much that it was driving her away from the place that she was staying at.

But it had gone past even wanting to talk to her about it. You still did, and you’d take the first chance that you got to do it, but you missed them, Ellie and your brother. Even just knowing they were both downstairs brought you comfort, allowing you to know you weren’t falling asleep in the giant house by yourself. Despite the taunting and the teasing, it was nice simply having them around.

It felt like you were being punished for something you didn’t even do.

Alas, you were spending another night alone, one you could have been spending out in the city with your friends, hopping from one moody bar to the next before you all inevitably trudged back to your cozy apartment to keep the party going until you all passed out in your living room while watching Star Wars.

Instead you were carrying out the familiar routine you had set up for yourself. You found a new recipe you wanted to try earlier in the day, drove out into town to grab a few groceries and a bottle of wine, came back and cooked, ate dinner and showered, putting yourself in your comfy pajamas before retreating to the living room to finish your glass while watching a movie to fill up the thick silence that filled your house.

You let out a gentle sigh as your eyes drifted over to the large clock on the wall, seeing that it was already almost midnight. You had long since given up on wishful thinking, hoping you’d at least catch a glimpse of your brother before you went to bed. They wouldn’t be arriving until anywhere between two and four am.

After washing up the last bit of your dishes and turning off all the lights (all except the patio light, a silent gesture to the two of them that acted a bit as a ‘goodnight’ from your end) you made your way up to your bedroom, went about your night time routine and tucked yourself into bed for another night of rest.

You were mindlessly scrolling through your phone, allowing the warm glow to lull you to sleep and fill your brain with nonsense in a way that made it easy not to think, when you heard the sound of your brothers Jeep roaring into the driveway, paired with his sound system blasting whatever dumb song he was obsessed with this week.

It made you frown, surly you hadn’t scrolled for that long. Derek and Ellie wouldn’t be home for another three hours, you had to exit out of the app you were using to check the time-

It was only 12:03

This was very unlike Ellie and Derek, so much so that the first thing you felt at their sudden arrival was worry. Was something wrong? Did one of them get sick? Did they suddenly have a change of heart and wanted to spend some time with you?

You needed to go downstairs and check

Your sock cladded feet padded along the wooden stairs as you made your way down, hearing as the front door creaked open, allowing the sounds of your brother and Ellie’s voices to fill up the space, paired with the sound of a few unfamiliar ones.

Now, did you at all think this through? No. Did you even stay at your window long enough to see who exactly was coming out of your brother’s car? Of course not.

Did you see that it wasn’t just Ellie and Derek coming into your house?

Unfortunately, no.

Before you can think any of this through, you’re standing at the bottom of your stairs, arms crossed over your chest as Derek and Ellie lead in about eight other people into your house, their chatter filling up the room and nearly distracting them from seeing you.

But you can’t worry about that right now.

“Derek?” You call out softly, your brows gently furrowed in soft confusion as your hands cup your bare arms from the chill of the air conditioning.

He’s mid laugh when he hears you, his smile slowly dropping once he turns around, his eyes finding you at the bottom of the stairs, the image of worry clear on your face.

Your brother would never admit it, but his heart tugs over the fact that this is his first time seeing your face in almost three weeks, and the only emotion you’re expressing is worry over him.

He clears his throat, his lips tugging into a lazy smile before he lets out a slight chuckle. “What are you doing up? Isn’t it past your bedtime?” He chuckles out, causing the group of people to snicker behind him, which only makes you frown further.

You ignore them though, instead looking at your brother.

“Are you…okay? You’re never home this early” you question, the look of concern still on your face.

Derek opens his mouth to respond, but he’s quickly cut off by an unfamiliar voice.

“Didn’t know you had a second mom, Derek” a low and sultry voice calls out from behind him. When your eyes trail to where the sound comes from, you finally notice the girl that it belongs to.

She captivates you almost instantly. Her flawless complexion, her perfect hair, her glossy lips that are pulled into a taunting smirk as she watches you, eyes filled with judgment raking down your body, taking in the little fruits printed onto your pajama set.

Perfect legs settled on Ellie’s lap.

Your eyes shift from that, to the way Ellie’s hands caress her hip, fingers toying with the exposed skin where her top ends and her designer denim jeans begin.

When you finally look up at Ellie, shes resting against the couch, bottom lip tugged beneath her perfect teeth as she practically bites back a smile, watching you as the girl in her lap presses her fingers against her lips to push back her giggles.

Your attention is forced away from your brother, now shifted over to Ellie. You have to ignore the pretty girl on her lap and her intense stare. Her eyes smolder in a way that makes your insides flip, and it makes you wanna run away and hide for the rest of your life. But you promised yourself that the next time you saw Ellie, you’d take the first chance you had to speak to her.

No matter how embarrassing it was doing this in front of all these people.

You inhaled deeply before you cleared your throat, making your way over to Ellie and the girl on the couch.

“Can I…talk to you in private…please?” You ask quickly, your voice low as you practically mumble out the words.

Both Ellie and the girl on her lap laugh softly together, and you watch as Ellie tries to muffle the noise by pressing her face to the girls back.

“Anything you need to say can be said here…so what is it?” She practically spits out, her tone making you frown deeply as you try to swallow back the nasty words you have for her.

“Seriously Ellie I just need like five minutes-“ your quickly cut off by the girl in her lap, pretty eyes staring up at you from her spot on top of Ellie as she juts out her bottom lip in a fake pout, one that she’s using to clearly mock you.

“Awe…does the little baby wanna confess her crush? That’s so cute…go on, you can tell her” she mocks you as she pours her words out, her words followed by a soft giggle, which only makes Ellie laugh with her.

You scoff at her, your arms crossing over your chest as you finally look over at her. “Who even are you?” You challenge her, which only makes her raise her eyebrows in surprise before she giggles softly.

“So she does speak…I’m Hazel it’s nice to meet you princess” she drawls out, her tone making you frown further.

“Is that all you needed? I’m dying to hear what’s so important for you to take Ellie from me…” she hums out, her fingers toying with the hair at the nape of Ellie’s neck.

Ellie hums softly, her lips creeping up to work against Hazel’s neck as she pulls her close to her chest.

“As if she could ever…” Ellie mumbles against her skin.

Her words send a shiver down your spine.

It makes you want to say things that you’ll regret, because Ellie didn’t feel that way when she was settled between your legs, her mouth working against your cunt as if it were her last meal, as if her fucking life depended on it.

But you know that no one in the room would believe you.

You inhale deeply before you let out a gentle sigh, shaking your head. “Forget about it…it was nothing” you mumble out before you turn around, your eyes drifting over to your brother and giving him the biggest ‘fuck you’ stare of all time before you make your way up the stairs.

“Cute pjs by the way!” You can hear Hazel call out when you’re halfway up, followed by a plethora of laughs that follow, all of which belonging to your brothers idiot friends.

Ellie being the loudest of course.

You make sure to lock your door when you’re in your bedroom, your throat burning with the familiar feeling of tears as you shove your face into your pillow, embarrassed at the fact that Ellie even had the power to make you feel so low, so fucking cheap that she used you for a night before going back to her cruel ways.

You knew one thing was for sure. You were completely done with her.

You weren’t exactly sure what Ellie was up to, but you knew that it was pissing you off.

You would give anything for the quiet and empty house you had when Ellie was avoiding you. It was lonely and honestly kind of scary at times but you were alone! And you didn’t have to deal with anyone or anything that you didn’t want to.

Now you couldn’t remember the last time you were alone.

Because ever since that night with Hazel, Ellie had been bringing her over almost every single day. It was like she was fucking moving in for the summer.

And it wasn’t like there was a problem with that. There were many times your brother and Ellie would bring girls over, using each other as a wing man to hype the other up. Sure, you’d feel bad for those poor girls because they picked the two dumbest people your town had to offer, but there was nothing wrong with it.

But Hazel was a fucking bitch.

She wasn’t nice at all. You didn’t need her to dote on you and put on some show to make her seem nicer than she actually was, your opinion didn’t fucking matter, but it was like every time she saw you roaming around the house she made sure to clock in with another one of her snarky remarks about either your appearance or your overall presence.

She was even worse than Ellie.

And god, it was like every single time they were together they were making soft core porn on your couch. You had already lost count of the amount of times you’d walked in on Hazel straddling Ellie’s lap as she practically dry humped her while they made out. You always scoffed at the image, only to be followed by Hazels annoying giggle and Ellie’s encouraging chuckle.

You’d become a permanent resident of your bedroom, since it was the only corner of your home that wasn’t plagued by Ellie and her disgusting little summer fling. It allowed you to sulk in your room without either one of the morons commenting about how much you were pouting.

It wasn’t at all because of the tinge of jealousy you felt when seeing it.

But was it even jealousy? Or was it the fact that she was pretending like everything between the two of you didn’t even happen. You should have known from the moment she left you there to simply eat you out and go back downstairs to whoever she needed that you didn’t mean anything more to her than a quick fix.

You couldn’t think about it any longer, because you weren’t going to allow Ellie to give you any more headaches.

The sun had already set, and it was getting closer and closer to your usual time of getting ready for bed, and you hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. You sighed softly as you grabbed your phone and left your bedroom.

You knew that your house was once again occupied with at least your brother, Ellie, Hazel, and probably more of their idiot friends, so you knew that you had limited time to go downstairs and grab something to fill your stomach before you slept. So you quickly rushed downstairs in an attempt to slip passed them all without being noticed.

You hoped they were doing something that required their focus, like watching a movie or playing video games, something that would make it easier for you to slip into the kitchen and slip out quickly without having any nasty remarks hurled your way.

But of course, life wasn’t so easy.

You frowned softly when you made your way at the bottom of the stairs. Everyone was dressed up like they were about to go out. Loud music was playing as they sat around the living room, some of them in the kitchen getting more drinks, all of them laughing and chatting with one another. It wasn’t enough of them to be a party, and your brother didn’t bring out the speakers for it either.

Your lips were set in a near permanent frown as you watched him call your name, only bringing the attention of everyone else to you as well.

“Hi?…” you mumbled out softly before you moved to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and bringing it to your lips.

He practically hurdled over the couch to get to you in the kitchen, the older man clearly excited to see you after you’d been ignoring him for the past week or so.

“Hey…are you coming tonight?” He breaths out, which only makes you frown further before you shake your head, closing the fridge as you make your way to the pantry instead.

“I sure hope not…” you hear Hazel quip from behind him, which is only followed by the snickers and laughter of the other people there. It makes Derek huff softly as he turns around to glare at Ellie, which makes her chuckle softly with the girl and give her hip a gentle tap to quiet her down.

You sigh softly before you shake your head. “Definitely not…I didn’t even know you were going out” you hum out softly before you reach out to grab some crackers and a bag of chips. You turn around and give Derek and unamused look.

“Can I go now?” You question in soft annoyance, your tone making your brother frown deeply.

He feels bad, and you can see it clearly on his face that he feels bad. He’s supposed to be your big brother yet he’s simply sat back and watched as his best friend continued to torment you.

You didn’t blame him for it either, and that made him feel even worse. You were too fucking understanding, and it made him feel sick to his stomach that his little sister was being more of an adult than he was.

“I’m sorry Ellie’s being such an ass she just-“ his words are cut off by the music stopping, followed by the rustling of the group behind him.

“Bro c’mon! We’re gonna miss the party” you hear an annoyed male voice call out, the rest of the group groaning in agreement as they stand and wait for your brother.

You don’t miss the way Ellie’s arm drapes over Hazel’s neck, keeping the girl close, her eyes refusing to drift anywhere near you as she lets the girl litter her throat with kisses.

Hazel looks at you though, a taunting look in her eyes as her perfectly manicured fingers wiggle in your direction, giving you a cheeky wave.

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite princess!” She calls out, Ellie snickering quietly as she leads her outside with the rest of the group.

Your eyebrows are furrowed as you watch them before you let out a soft sigh, shutting the door to the pantry and gesturing towards the door. “Your friends are waiting for you…” you mumble out softly before you slip past your brother to make your way upstairs.

You’re halfway up when you stop and turn around to face him, an expression that could only be described as conflicted written all over his face.

“And please don’t make too much noise when you get back…some of us actually sleep” you huff out softly before you trudge your way back up before he could get a response in, closing your door behind you and flopping down into your bed.

You try your hardest not to let images of Hazel and Ellie linger on in your head, or think about what the actual fuck her motives were (Ellie and Hazel…you couldn’t crack either one of them) because frankly, it’ll just keep you from sleeping.

And you’ll be damned if you end up losing sleep over anyone, especially those two.

A bag of chips and a few episodes of Girlfriends later, and you could feel the familiar feeling of fatigue taking over your body. You quickly take advantage of it, going about your nightly routine as quickly as possible, tugging on an old sleep shirt of yours and hopping into bed, allowing sleep to fill the spaces of your brain that were once plagued by thoughts of Ellie.

It’s the middle of the night when Ellie and your brother come home. It’s just the two of them, having dropped off or left everyone else at the party when they were ready to go.

Your brother was sober, knowing he was titled with designated driver for the night, on top of feeling guilty about the situation with you, he couldn’t really bring himself to drink, especially if you ended up texting him needing anything. He wanted to be in the right state of mind for it.

Ellie on the other hand? Not so much.

She wasn’t belligerent by any means, she could still carry out conversations and she’d definitely remember everything in the morning, but she was much softer, a slight sway in her stance as drunk giggles passed her lips whenever your brother would say something to her.

She felt nice. She also felt needy.

So needy in fact, that after she and your brother stumble in through the front door, your brother quickly grabbing a bottle of water before bidding Ellie a goodnight, that her mind begins to drift off to a particular girl that had been plaguing her mind from the moment that she left the house.

And maybe these thoughts are what drive her up to her room, stumbling inside and tugging her jeans off, switching them out for a pair of shorts and a t shirt, then making her way to the bathroom to clumsily gargle some mouthwash to clean out the smell of smoke and liquor on her breath….

And peak her head into your bedroom to see your sleeping form.

She tiptoes towards your bed once she closes the door behind her, silently thanking you for not locking your bedroom door as you usually did.

Soon she’s standing over you, taking a moment to simply watch you sleep. Your face is pressed into your pillow, forcing your lips into a pout that makes Ellie want to kiss you until you can’t breathe. Your hair is messy, sticking in every which way which makes you look all the more endearing. You look so fucking serene and soft and…

God…had you always been this pretty?

It makes Ellie pout softly, mimicking the form of your lips as her hand comes down to brush a bit of your hair out of your face. The touch of her cold hand on your warm skin makes you groan softly, your unconscious form shifting a bit as you try to push her hand away, shying away from the cold feeling.

When you do this, it gives Ellie just enough space to slide into bed with you. Your bedroom is cold and she knows it’s nice and toasting under there with you, and she’s drunk and she’s needy and…

All she could ever want right now is you.

Another drunk giggle bubbled past her pretty lips, her hand coming down to tug your plush blanket up as she crawls into bed next to you, cold hands instantly slipping under your t shirt to rest against your naked hips, pulling you against her chest.

“Mmm…so warm…so pretty…” she mumbles mindlessly against your hair, her lips coming down to press against your neck as her thumbs rub small circles into your skin.

The foreign feeling of someone pressed up against your back paired with the cold hands running along your skin is quick to make you stir out of your sleep. Your mind is foggy and the heavy affects of sleep still weigh in on your body, making it hard to fully register what was actually going on.

Your hands trail down to rest atop of the ones splayed against your hips, it’s then that you’re able to make out the feeling of plump lips working against your neck, making you frown deeply.

“There she is…hey baby…” Ellie hums lazily against your neck once she feels your hands laying on top of hers.

The sound of her voice has you blinking your eyes open, your brows furrowed in confusion. Was this a dream? Were you seriously fucking dreaming about Ellie now? Was your brain really betraying you by filling your mind with thoughts of her even when you were in sleep?

You feel her grip your hips a bit tighter, forcing your body to turn around and face her. It’s then that you realize the usual hazy fog and dull feeling that comes with dreams isn’t present.

Ellie is there, in your bed, with her arms wrapped around your waist.

You bring your hand up to rub your eyes, your brows still knit together as you try to focus on the girls face in the dim light of your bedroom. You see her crack a smile, her eyes low as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. One of her hands go down to grip your thigh before tugging it up to hook over her own hip, a low hum of approval leaving her lips at the feeling of you so close.

“Ellie? What…what the hell are you doing?” You groan out softly, yet with no attempts at stopping her from moving you about as she pleased.

She hummed softly, leaning in to press her lips against the base of your neck. You can feel her tongue swipe across your skin before she begins biting and sucking, the feeling making you gasp softly as your hands reach down to grip her t shirt.

“Missed you…wanted to see you…play with you a little bit…” she hums softly against your skin, soft moans leaving her lips at the sounds you make.

When she’s this close, you can smell the faint scent of liquor and weed swirling around the both of you. And it suddenly all starts to click.

Ellie was drunk.

You frown deeply as you try pulling away from her, which makes her whine softly, hands still tugging at your hips to keep you close.

“You’re drunk…not to mention how much of a fucking dick you’ve been to me” you huff out softly.

She whines again as she desperately pulls you closer. You catch the image of her lips forming a pout, an honest to god pout that you aren’t sure you’ve ever seen Ellie do before.

“Took like…two shots and I barely smoked…m’just…feelin’ nice that’s all” she explains before she leans in again, her hands slipping under your shirt and pulling you closer.

You roll your eyes at her explanation. “Cool…then go get Hazel…you’ve been very occupied with her lately” your voice has a tone of bitterness that even shocks you, not fully realizing how upset you sounded until you hear Ellie chuckle softly before she pulls back a bit to look up at you.

It almost takes your breath away, how fucking pretty she looks. Her pretty green eyes are low and gleaming up at you, a pretty pink blush covering her freckled cheeks, plump lips tugging into a smirk as she watches you.

It makes it so much harder to fucking resist her.

“Awe…you jealous baby? Upset I haven’t given you any attention since that night?” She teases you gently, her words making you frown down at her as she giggles softly before she leans in, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips.

“Gimme a kiss baby…I’ll make it up to you…I promise” she sighs out against you.

Her warm breath against your skin sends shivers down your spine, your eyes fluttering shut as you take in just how fucking good her hands feel pawing at your hips. She hums softly before she parts her lips, pressing a soft kiss to your bottom lip before she tugs it into her mouth, sucking on it.

It makes you moan softly, which has her nodding in approval as she begins working her lips against yours.

“That’s it baby…lemme take care of you…lemme apologize” she sighs out against you before she presses her mouth against yours.

Your eyes flutter shut when she does this, melting and giving in to the girl as your mind clouds with want and need so strong, you feel like you might explode.

The kiss is slow and sensual, her tongue rubbing and lapping against your own as you enter a steamy make out session that has arousal pooling in your panties.

“Fuck…taste so good baby…missed you so much” she groans out against you, her hand slipping under the covers to tug at your panties, pulling them down your legs. You help her by kicking them off once they’re around your ankles.

Her words confused you, because if you remember correctly, Ellie was laughing in your face with Hazel on her lap a few hours ago, and now she’s in your bed, moaning about how much she’s missed you, and how she wants to apologize for it?

You can’t even dwell on it for long, because you let out a soft gasp when you feel Ellie’s fingers press against your clit, a soft hiss leaving her lips at the feeling of your slick coating her fingers.

“So wet already…been dreaming about this pussy baby…fuck…c’mere” she moans softly as she tugs her own shorts and panties off, leaving both of you only in your shirts.

You feel her tug one of your legs between her legs, the feeling of her wet pussy pressing against your thigh makes you moan softly, because you can feel just how desperate she is for it to, just how needy she is for you as you are her.

“Ellie…fuck…” you moan softly, the girl nodding as she tugs your other leg over her hip so your pussy was pressed against her upper thigh.

“I know baby…I need it too…here…like this” she moans out as she grips your hip, tugging them up and down to find a good rhythm, one that she quickly matches with her own hips.

Soon you’re both moving in unison, Ellie fucking her pussy down onto your leg and yours onto hers. The feeling makes you moan softly, your hands going down to tug at the hair at the nape of Ellie’s neck, keeping her close as you chase your high.

“Fuck…feels so good baby..I…” she moans out loudly, her hands feverishly pushing your shirt up before she presses her lips to one of your boobs, catching your nipple into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it, sucking on it as if her life depended on it.

Your skin muffles her needy moans, and it’s a side of Ellie you aren’t sure you’ve ever seen before. She’s rutting against your thigh desperately, pretty eyes staring up into yours as she moans and whines against your nipple, silently begging not only to cum, but for you to cum with her.

“H-huh…want you…to cum all over my leg Ellie…need it…mmm…fuck!” You manage to make out between loud moans and gasps, your eyes fluttering shut as she nods eagerly, sucking harshly on your nipple as she moves her hips faster, slick covering your thigh.

Her other hand reaches down to grip your hip as she forces you to go faster, matching her pace as you feel your orgasm grow closer and closer.

Her lips unlatch from your nipple with a loud pop, the sound of her moans working in harmony with yours as she too feels her orgasm growing closer with your own.

“M’so close…I…fuck….im gonna cum baby…you’re gonna make me-“ her words are cut off with a loud moan. It’s high pitched and whiny and so fucking pretty, nothing compared to her usual deep voice that she speaks in with your brother, or when she’s insulting you.

The sound makes you moan loudly, your back arching as you cum hard on Ellie’s thigh. Your hips slow down, your pussy slowly growing with the familiar feeling of sensitivity as you ride out your orgasm, Ellie matching the slowing motions that you carry out as well.

It ends with the both of you gasping softly, chests rising and falling as you trying to catch your breath. Ellie takes the opportunity to press sloppy kisses against your lips, tongue lazily working against yours as she moans and whines into your mouth.

But if this is anything like last time, you know what’s coming.

So you’d rather it happen now than later, especially when Ellie has the power to rip away the beautiful feeling of her lips against yours. So as she’s kissing you, you silently break away, pull your t shirt down, turn over so your back is facing her, and tug your blankets further over your shoulder as you settle into your pillow.

“Close the door on your way out” you mumble out as you close your eyes, thankful that the orgasm Ellie just gave you tires you out so much that it’s easy for you to simply shut your eyes and go to sleep before you can overthink things, or sit with the sinking feeling that settles in your stomach over the fact that you let Ellie waltz into your room and played with you as she pleased.

Again.

You especially don’t catch the shocked expression on Ellie’s face when she hears the words the fall from your lips.

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

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leah-lover · 3 months ago

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A lap for love. Leah williamsonx F1!reader.

Part 1 part 2

Summary: when F1, football, money, parties, long distances, and relationships collide. Misery occurs.

Monaco, money, speed, and danger are words synonymous with F1. Everybody talks about courage, competitions, cutthroat dynamics and the luxury of the game and how lucky we are to be a part of it. For the most part they are faithful to reality. F1 is an incredibly exclusive luxurious adrenaline inducing game that revolves around being perfect all the time or else you get hated on for every breath you tackle.F1 fans are brutal. Unless you are on the podium or winning every race, you will be burnt at the stake. Especially if you are a part of a team as successful as mercedes. Being a woman doesn't help either. You have the weight of an entire gender resting on your shoulders. If you fail it will be another 4 or 5 years before they let another woman compete again. So losing isn't an option at all.

Having that kind of pressure takes a toll on one’s mental health. This case sucks even more because of all the traveling you do and the fact that your girlfriend is a very busy English footballer. With time zones always being against you, you started to drift from your girlfriend and the distance between you two grew with each race. You missed her presence, laughter, banter,and weird diet. You longed for her kisses, the way she made your body feel, the way she made all your worries disappear with a single look from her eyes. no body from the team noticed your light dim because you were good at hiding it. What they didn't miss was the parties you started to frequently host and attend. If you were not at training or the gym, you were in a club surrounded by sweaty bodies trying to feel something remotely close to what leah made you feel. You didn't drink much if at all you were just filling your life up with people so that you wouldn't feel the void of Leah not being there with you.

Leah noticed this sudden change in your demeanor and she didn't know where it came from. She first became suspicious of all the stories clubs and party goers would post of you hanging out with them. When she asked you about it you brushed it off as necessities of the job but she wasn't convinced. The partying kept going on and Leah became more and more suspicious as the distance between you grew bigger. You wished you could tell her how much you needed her but that wouldn't change anything. You were still travelling, racing around the world and putting on stellar performances, winning your team an impressive amount of points while she was playing football in London. Each point you gained shipped away at your soul and at your relationship.

With you becoming more famous, the public began paying more attention to your private life. Suddenly, everybody was sure you were dating your photographer. People talked about you two all the time. Photographed you together and asked you about each other. You didn't confirm the rumors but you didn't deny them either. You knew that being a lesbian would only hinder your progress in F1 and further strain your relationship with leah.

Amidst all this drama your home race came at a much needed time. You were tired, homesick, and you needed to talk to your girlfriend.

You didn't tell Leah you were coming, you lied to her in order to surprise her at the Emirates for the second leg of the champion’s league semi final. As always the atmosphere was electric but it wasn't enough for the team to win against the giant of french football. Sadly, they lost after an impressive battle. The look of sadness on Leah's face broke you, you two were very tired and needed each other at that moment. You asked your contacts at the Emirates for a favour to be able to go to the locker room since nobody except a few teammates knew you were dating leah.

The silence in the locker rooms was heard from afar in the hallway. You haven't seen your girlfriend in so long you were nervous but you knew you had to be there for her. The look of shock on the girl’s faces when they saw you enter the locker room was something you didn't expect. But it was understandable since you were famous in Britain and they didn't know the reason why you were there. But the look on Leah's face shipped away at your heart a little. She wasn't happy, she was disappointed. You brushed it off, said hello to the girls and told them how proud you are of them and of their performances. You then went to sit next to Leah's locker. Without a word she got up to the showers; the situation was awkward, but the girls didn't say anything. They kept on doing their thing and each one of them got out of the locker room leaving you and Leah as she got out of the showers last. She made an appearance that you had the locker room all to yourselves.

“ Why are you still here?” she said emotionlessly.

“ where would i be if not here. I wanted to be there for you. This loss is brutal.” you replied. You didn't get up to her and she didn't come to you.

“ Thank you for coming. But I can't do this today. I don't have it in me.” she replied.

“ What do you mean?” you asked confused the two of you still not moving an inch.

“ I don't wanna fight with you, I don't want to put on an act that I am happy you are here. I just want to go home and sleep.”

“ Are you not happy to see me? Leah, we literally haven't seen each other in months.”

“ and what have you been doing all these months?”

“ traveling the world working, representing England the entirety oàf women’s sport. What are you getting at?”

“ Funny, I don't think getting drunk at clubs, dancing with women and models, avoiding your girlfriend and hurting her feelings is a part of your representation of women’s sports but if that’s what helps you sleep at night then go for it.” She was gathering her things as was talking, then she headed straight to the door without looking at you. You ran after her but she wouldn't stop walking, you kept calling her name and begging her to stop but she wouldn't. She left you standing at the gate of the emirates and drove away. You saw the thread that connected your hearts stretch further.

It only took you a few seconds to head to your car and follow her. Driving was your fortait so you arrived at her house before she did. When she was you another look of disappointment flashed across her face but she let you in and headed to her couch.

“ I can't do this anymore. “ she said emotionlessly.

“ no leah please we can work through this.” you begged as you kneeled in front of her.

“ I can't keep doing this long distance thing. Our lives are so different. Our backgrounds are so different. You live in Monaco even if the season is over. I can't leave London. My whole life here is my job. I share my family with her. It will never work between us because the distance is too big. I feel more pain than I feel love from you.”

“ That's not true. I can relocate from Monaco. I can come back and live here with you and support you. You can come to me in your off season and we can find a way.” you say desperately and panicked.

“ you can't live in london baby. This lifestyle of yours is so different from mine we can't ever find something that would satisfy us bith. This relationship is not worth losing the thing you have worked your whole life for.”

That last sentence broke something in you. Leah was convinced of her argument and you didn't have a rebuttal that would convince her. You two were tired and overstimulated and sad. You chose to do the right thing and leave before hurtful things could be said.

“ Silverstone, the great race of britain. The British driver’s most important race this time around with Lewis Hamelton in pole position lets see who will win.” said the commentator as the lights turned green. You were in the fifth position and determined to win this race no matter what. Shortly after the lights went green y-ou gave it your all and pushed so hard you were now toe to toe with levee fighting for the podium. The race was sure to go to a British driver but you wanted it to go to you so that you could justify your decision and the risks you had taken that japratised your relationship. You kept pushing and pushing until the finish line was up ahead and Lewis was sure to take it all but she didn't as you crossed first with him talking behind. And that was it you won silverstone.

After you parked your car you didn't leave. You stayed there for a minute contemplating everything that has led you to this pOINT; cheers were heard from all around and you knew people were happy with you which made the decision you choose to break your heart further.

You got out of the car, celebrated with your team and sang the national anthem. However something looks off. You weren't happy. Your fake smile was easily detectable by Leajh who was watching the race with her parents at home. Her mom looked at her worrily and she looked at you the same through the tv. Your demeanor continued throughout the press conferences. Which made l:eah feel more guilty. For the first time, ahs wo,n the british grand prix but she couldn't celebrate it because her girlfriend broke up with her shortly before. Leah continued to stalk you through instagram but you weren't anywhere. No story, no party. She called your manager to ask about your whereabouts. 1 hour later she found herself in front of a mansion in the countryside of london.

The place was grand, luxurious. It screamed wealth relaxation and domesticity. Leah didn't know what she was walking into. She knocked on the door and a few moments later you emerged in an arsenal hoodie and great sweatpants.

“ you won silverstone congratulation.” she said.

“ Thank you.” you replied. It was evident from our face that you were crying.

“ Can I come in?” she asked and you let her in.

Leah kept walking until she found the living room. “ You seemed off today.” she stated.

“ gee i wonder why?” you joked." Do you like this house?” you added. “ yeah i do.”

“ I bought it for us. I finalized the offer before I came to london. That day i came to the stadium, i was gonna bring you here and show you what i did and ask for you forgiveness for being an asshole lately. But you jumped the gun and broke up with me.” you sat down looking at the floor. “ Our relationship is hard, you are right but I can't live without you. I won't live without you. You are the reason I am who I am. I survived the crash last year for you. I need you, Leah. I don't just want you. You are the only family I care about.” tears were streaming down your face which leah thumbs wiped as he sat down next to you.

“ This will be our home. It's a little more than an hour from your training grounds. It's big enough for us to host your family and friends. We can have kids here and we can grow together comfortably. Leah, I will be happy to be your housewife, and your WAG . I will be happy to leave Formula 1 to save our relationship. “ You hold Leah's hands, assert her, and sturdy her face and she panics.

Will this be the end of your legendary formula one journey.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso request #woso smut #leah williamson #leah williamson smut #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson fanfic #leah williamson imagine #awfc x reader #awfc imagine #awfc #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

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mrcrawly · 1 month ago

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EVEN MORE things that actually occurred in House MD

tried to keep this spoiler free but it's kinda hard to? here's an even longer list of things that really happened in House MD

Cuddy adopts a baby from some homeless drug addict squatters

House tries to prove that an exceptionally happy patient is only happy because of a deadly illness

And he was right. The guy had a tropical parasite.

House gets stuck in an airport during layoff with his situationship and resorts to using the airport's walls as a whiteboard while his team describes the patient's symptoms to him over the phone

House cuts into a woman's brain to prove that something is wrong with the left side of her brain because she enjoys working with special ed kids

House almost kills Chase at his bachelor party

House shoots a dead body and then uses an MRI to prove the bullet is magnetic

It is. He ruins the MRI machine

House hacks into the monitor in the OR to force Wilson to help him with a differential

Wilson sleeps with a terminal liver cancer patient

Aforementioned cancer patient miraculously gets her tumors shrunken by a travelling, 15-year-old Christian "healer" who was experiencing an episode of psychosis due to an undiagnosed STI

When there's an outbreak of an unidentified disease in the maternity ward, House tries to figure out what it is by giving two babies the opposite treatments knowing one of them would die

House induces hypothermic cardiac arrest on a 9-year-old cancer patient to find a clot in her brain

A fellow (during House's hiring game) poisons a patient to give her the symptoms of polio, so he could use vitamin C to cure her symptoms and encourage other doctors to research vitamin C as a cure for polio

(he got fired and arrested for this)

House bribes a surgeon to perform a risky operation

When that doesn't work, he blackmails the surgeon about his affair

Cameron drugs a patient after he was discharged so he would faint and have to be readmitted

House breaks into his ex-girlfriend's therapist office to steal her therapy notes and use them to manipulate her

House breaks the toilet in Cuddy's office bathroom with a sledgehammer as revenge after she took all the furniture out of his office

House sets a cadaver on fire

House induces a migraine on a coma patient to test different medications' effectiveness in preventing migraines

House kidnaps an actor from his favorite soap opera to prove that he's dying because he was reading his lines slower

House helps a father commit su!c!de so his son can get a new heart

Foreman extracts bone marrow from a child without anesthesia or lidocaine

House wakes up a severe burn victim from a medically induced coma in case the patient knew something to help diagnose him (he didn't)

Chase kills a patient (more than once, just for two different reasons)

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euphemiaamillais · 1 year ago

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money, power, glory - coriolanus snow

on the night of your victory party, president snow decides that he wants a little more than a kiss from his victor—after all, don’t you ought to show your president just how patriotic you are?

cw: 18+//dub-con//age gap (reader is 18+)//abuse of power//mentions of exploitation//objectification//blowjobs//piv sex//coercion//loss of virginity//creampie//district 7 victor!reader and president!coryo

the party is all for you; the gaud and festivity, the fountains of alcohol, the ridiculously clad guests. you won, they tell you—but it’s a reminder of the children you killed as you fought tooth and claw in that arena. it feels wrong, to be put on display like this when twenty-three children lay dead in their districts. the celebration of murder—it’s as if you’re the prize animal at the circus.

you had been primped and preened by your stylist drusilla all afternoon, gritting your teeth as every part of your body was plucked and waxed, as she pulled your hair back into some elaborate hairstyle, the pins now digging into your scalp. that pain—the dull ache of it—ironically served as a reminder of the pain you had to endure in the games. you only survived because you slit the throat of that boy from two, watching the blood trickle out of his neck as you practically limped away.

you’d since been repaired, though many a time you felt that familiar ache in your ankle—the one that had been broken—and supposed it was punishment for the cruelty of your actions. but put twenty-four helpless children in an arena and ask them to fight to the death, and you learn that the ‘inherent goodness’ in human beings is nothing but a thin veil maintained by law and order.

‘enjoying the show?’ you hear the familiar, cut-glass voice of drusilla, who’s currently festooned in a garish purple gown covered in feathers—with a hairpiece to match.

you shrug, taking a sip of the expensive champagne, feeling the bubbles fizz down your throat as you swallow. it’s all so much, the noise, the people—as if you’re being smothered.

‘you’re being awfully quiet,’ she sighs, brushing your shoulder with her perfectly manicured hand. ‘isn’t there anything to tempt you?’

drusilla is more sympathetic than most in the capitol; she’d listened as you’d told her about your family back in seven, the trees that spanned for miles, how you often lay under their green blanket and daydreamed of a world beyond this one. but still, she would never understand what being a victor was like, there were scarce few in panem who did. many turned to morphling or alcohol upon their return home, and you’d heard horror stories whispered about victor’s being sold for certain services.

‘i’m just tired, that’s all,’ you murmur, reaching for another glass of champagne as a waiter walks past.

drusilla cocks a thin brow, a suspicious look glittering in her eyes. the throng of people is dizzying as you down your second champagne, but you feel your nerves ease, and pray that this night will become more bearable.

‘come, they all want to see you—their victor,’ she grins, pearly white teeth glistening under the golden light of the strings of lanterns.

you take her hand, and she pulls you through the crowd. it’s a vertigo-inducing sea of rainbow; hands clasping together in applause, rich cheers from their panted mouths. you feel your own lips twitch into a smile, but your eyes are somewhere else; far away from this. you can smell the soil back home, see the larks that fly through the trees that reach to the heavens. there’s a dreadful pang of homesickness thrumming in your heart.

and yet you cannot return home, not when they’re all watching you, waiting for the pretty victor to make a witty remark, or to make bids on who will get to have her first. you’re acutely aware that your pink dress is practically see-though, it’s gauzy fabric not leaving much to the eye. your feet ache from the heels they’ve put you in, and you know no matter how much they primp and preen at you, you’ll always be district. an outsider among those in wealthy excess.

among the throngs of people, you spot him—president snow. your breath catches between your lips. you’ve seen him before, obviously. his touch has always strayed a little too much when he’s been around you, but of course, you’d never say anything. you wonder how such a young man—he’s only 24 after all—rose to such power. nobody can deny how attractive he is, piercing blue eyes and platinum blonde curls. if he hadn’t put you in these games, maybe you’d even be persuaded to like him.

drusilla pushes you to him, and you stumble a little, the champagne causing a heady, floaty feeling in your body as you make an attempt to make yourself presentable. you hadn’t expect to be thrust towards him so soon, but the way he’s staring at you is as if he’s been expecting this.

‘don’t be so nervous, you look gorgeous,’ drusilla reminds you as you come to a halt before president snow.

he’s wearing one of his finely tailored suits; this one the crimson shade of red you’ve so often seen him wearing. you feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and feel the absence of drusilla’s hand from your back. when you crane your neck—only slightly, so as not to seem rude—she’s disappeared into the throng of brightly clad partygoers.

‘my favourite victor,’ president snow reaches for your hand and presses a kiss to it. his lips are strangely cold. not that you knew what to expect, but somehow it makes sense. his demeanour is like ice.

‘president snow,’ you lean back into curtsy, your bad ankle aching as you do so.

he smiles, icy eyes flickering over your form. he can practically make out your undergarments in that dress; they’re a shade of peach and of such a sheer satin that you can nearly see right through, but it leaves enough for the onlooker to be left wondering what lies underneath. your eyes follow him, and you clutch at your arms shyly, as if half of the capitol hasn’t seen you dressed so scantly.

‘shy tonight, are we?’ he inquires, edging close enough to you that you can make out the slight five o’clock shadow on his jaw.

‘i’m tired, that’s all,’ you mutter, flinching as one of his hands grips at your waist.

‘i would’ve thought you’d enjoy this spectacle, seeing as you made quite the circus out of the arena,’ he leaned in close to your ear, in what you assumed was an intimidation tactic. in spite of being hardened by the arena, deep down, president snow terrified you. ‘the way you killed that boy from two—brutal. but you made yourself the star of the capitol…’

his touch strays further, grasping at the thin fabric that surrounds your ass. one blonde brow arches in surprise, and his lips flicker into what you assume to be a smirk. if he was anyone else, you would’ve pushed him away, but he’s your president. one word and you’d be good as dead; and after enduring the games, you’d rather not come face-to-face with that sort of confrontation again.

‘how pretty,’ he muses, fingers tracing lightly against your form. ‘did you wear this just for me?’

your lips purse, but your body propels you to give a swift nod of your head. ‘do you like it?’

president snow smiles, eyes dancing at your quick wittedness. the girls he has are usually stupid whores who he pays to suck his cock—you, on the other hand, are a precious prize. intelligent, obviously, and startlingly beautiful. and you’re the first female victor since mags flannagan, not that he has any say over her because he was still crawling his way up under dr. gaul then.

‘oh yes, i think you know why,’ he drops the fabric, and takes a few steps away, a blasé look crossing his features.

he watches as your cheeks turn a pretty pink, and you cast your gaze to the ground. how charming; you feigning bashfulness. he’d seen you at your most primal, knife dragging along the jugular of that boy. you couldn’t charm your way out of this one.

the silence pierces the air, and you are prompted to speak—anything to change the topic. the stagnancy between you two has wrapped it’s suffocating arms around you—and you don’t want to choke.

‘i must thank you, president snow, for the festivities,’ you gesture to the ridiculous amount of decorations; the blaring music and the light show.

‘i’m glad you like it,’ he remarks, but his eyes are still trained on you. he wants something from you, and you’re not sure what. ‘i had to celebrate my favourite victor, after all.’

you stifle a scoff; his flattery is sickening. he’s never this charming among company. he’s cold, calculating—you can see it in his eyes, still, but he so obviously needs you wrapped around his little finger. and of course, you can’t resist. who would disobey their president, after all?

‘you flatter me, sir,’ he swallows thickly at the appellation. god, he’d love to hear you call him that as he bends you over one of his expensive armchairs. he wonders if you’d beg him to stop, or if you’d take it. he can’t figure out which type you are, just yet.

‘there’s nothing wrong with flattery, don’t you think?’ he is close to you again, breath fanning your cheek. ‘especially when it comes from your president.’

you feel your body freeze up. there’s something so intimidating about him, and although you want to outsmart him, the way he makes your knees buckle turns you into another one of those bumbling capitol fools.

‘now, if you’ll excuse me, sweetheart. i’ve got a few matters to attend to,’ he backs away, leaving in a flourish of red.

you have to blink a few times to register his absence, and reach for another glass of champagne as a waiter holds out a decadent tray to you. why not? you think, taking time to sip elegantly at this one. there’s no harm in imbibing if you have to make it through this hellish night.

—

drusilla taps you on the back as you’re shoving an expensive vol-au-vent past your painted lips. when you turn around, she’s shocked to see your mouth full of the pastry, cheeks rounded out as you attempt to swallow it. the hunger pangs had grown considerably, and when you finally gulped it down, the effects of the champagne made you giggle.

‘oh honey,’ she shakes her head, reaching for a pristine napkin to wipe at the flakes of pastry by your lips.

the night had drawn on, and you’d been left with an anxious feeling after your encounter with president snow. everytime somebody so much as brushes against you, your head had whipped around as you searched for a head of perfectly-set blonde curls and a crimson coat. to your luck, it had only ever been waiters, carting more champagne. you reckoned you were drunk enough now that you didn’t care how you acted.

let them think you were a fool, you’d be heading home tomorrow anyways.

‘how much have you had to drink?’ she inquires, and watches as you furrow your brows in thought.

‘six, no—seven glasses,’ you admit, and drusilla scolds you with a clucking tongue, her pink curls bobbing as she shakes her head.

‘president snow won’t be very happy with that,’ she remarks.

your mouth turns into a curious pout, watching as her face falters into some sort of cryptic, far-away look. you run the soft fabric of your dress through your fingers as you let the words settle. no, it doesn’t make sense.

‘why would he care?’ you asked, a little piqued by the thought that he’d even be remotely interested in whether you were sober or not.

drusilla’s purple lips are drawn into a thin line, and she bends in close as if she’s ready to tell you a secret. your throat’s gone dry, the anxiety prying at you with it’s cold hands.

‘look, sweetie,’ her golden tone is laced with a little condescension. ‘president snow won’t like that you’re drunk. it won’t make the situation ideal for him.’

your brows quirk into a look of confusion. situation? drusilla sees your loss of words and takes it upon herself to inform you of the events. how naive you are, that you’ve got no idea just what he wants with you.

‘you’ve been asked to stay the night at the mansion,’ her eyes flicker to search for any eavesdroppers, and then she continues. ‘look, i’m sorry if i didn’t tell you earlier, but he’s asked to keep quiet about it. what with the others being jealous—’

‘others?’ your voice falters.

‘well, sweetie, you know how desirable victors are. president snow just wants to make sure nobody else gets their hands on you. that’s why he’s keeping you here, under close guard.’ drusilla bites her lip, revealing that she’s worried for you. she didn’t have much of a choice in your fate, but if she could forewarn you, she would.

you understood now why he’d been so touchy before—clearly he was jealous that somebody was trying to get their hands on his precious victor.

you lose all your words, mouth opening, nothing spilling out. it feels like it’s been filled up with dirt; you can hardly speak. drusilla goes to strike your arm, but is prevented from doing so as she’s whisked away by some blue-haired man harping on about her latest designs. once again, you feel the pangs of loneliness.

you had to reconcile yourself to the fact that the rest of your life—however long that may be—would be a lonely existence. you’d spent the better part of the month on the train, zigzagging back and forth between the districts, reading off prewritten speeches as you had to face the families of the fallen. all those children—their children—dead.

every night, you’d taken those pills prescribed by the doctors, the ones that stopped you from waking up with your hand around your throat as you screamed. you slept a dreamless sleep, but it became hard to not depend on them. what would you do without them tonight?

—

the party draws on long into the night, and you grow bored and overwhelmed. as per drusilla’s advice, and also not wanting to wake up with a throbbing headache tomorrow morning, you resorted to drinking the assorted non-alcoholic beverages.

your head is pounding by one am, but the party doesn’t seem to cease by any means. deciding you’ve had enough, and that nobody would really miss you—after all, nobody’s even talked to you for at least two hours—you stumble your way across the marble steps of the mansion. you hazily remember drusilla telling you what door you were meant to enter by, and you find it manned by a singular avox.

without a word, they let you inside, and you trail tipsily after them up a velvet staircase. your ankles roll as you climb the steps, head spinning, but it doesn’t take long to reach your room. your feet are aching, and when the avox leaves you to your own company, you practically tear the shoes off your feet.

you lay back against the white sheets, revelling in the feeling of the thousand-count cotton brushing against your skin. you’d never felt anything like it, and could feel your eyes shutting as you relax into the plush sheets.

you awaken what seems like hours later, but only twenty minutes have passed on the alarm clock by the bed. the sound of footsteps can be heard outside your door, and you’re surprised you can make it out as the party still booms outside the vast windows of the mansion.

you sit up, heart racing, and head throbbing slightly. you’re groggy from the champagne, and the bubbly tipsiness has given way to the absolute misery of sobering up.

the door opens, a small sliver of light giving way to the shadowy figure that progresses into the room. you squint, unable to make out a face, but pray it’s not one of the men you’ve heard were making bids for the victor.

you sigh a breath of relief when you see president snow, not a hair out of place as he stands beside your bed. your dress is up around your thighs, and you can see his blue eyes dancing across your frame.

‘president snow,’ you murmur into the darkness.

you wondered who had turned off the light in the first place—your memory is hazy at best but you don’t remember flicking the switch. an avox must have come past while you were sleeping.

‘i see my favourite victor has taken some respite,’ he muses, one cold hand reaching out to stroke your thigh.

you flinch back reflexively, not used to the icy feeling against your skin. nor are you used to the prying hands of men. the most you’d ever done was kiss a boy, and even then, that was years ago, you weren’t even sure it counted.

‘sorry,’ you spit out, lips trembling with apology. he only laughs, hand still tracing your smooth skin.

‘no need to apologise. i’d rather you doze here than fall asleep on a bench where any of those men could lay a hand on you,’ he makes a sound of disgust, shaking his head at the thought. ‘i couldn’t let them spoil my pretty victor.’

you feel your cheeks warm—did he really think you were pretty? but you remembered who he was; in fact he was the very reason there were even any games at all. he could put a stop to all this if he wanted, and yet he didn’t. you couldn’t let him fool you with his charm.

‘it’s very thoughtful of you, president snow,’ you offer, not wanting to raise suspicion in him.

in the moonlight, you can see a smile flicker across his lips. his hand moved further up to the apex of your thigh, and your breath hitches. what was he doing?

‘do you like that?’ he murmurs, leaning in against your ear, breath hot.

you can’t think of what to say. your thighs tingle a little with the touch, but you don’t want him there. it’s wrong. he’s the president though, and how can you tell him no when he could have you killed?

‘you’re a quiet one, aren’t you?’ he mutters, but wanting to rouse a sound out of you, he moves his hand to press flush against your panties, thumb stroking the area where your clit is.

you let out a breathy gasp; the pleasant warmth flooding your belly. his brows quirk up at your quick response—you’re so willing. he wonders how far he can push you; of course he wants to have you no matter what, after all, it’s his right as president—but he wants to know how much of a whore you are under those pretty clothes.

he knew what district girls were like. lucy gray—though that name made him shudder—bent easily under his guidance. he hoped you’d do the same; obey him. he had more power now, six years after his stint as a mentor and then peacekeeper. he kept that to himself; everybody else simply thought he’d been struck down with a bad bout of the flu, when really he’d been uncovering rebel plots by day and by night was burying his cock deep inside of whatever district slut would have him.

‘please, president snow,’ you beg, head spinning as he rubs at your sensitive nub.

‘please what?’ he inquires, an undercurrent of menace in his voice.

‘i mean—are you sure we should be doing this?’ you furrow your brows with anxiety. ‘aren’t there men who want to pay you good money for this?’

you squeeze your legs together in the hopes that he’ll stop, but this only angers him and he uses his muscular hands to pry your thighs apart. you can’t deny him this; he wants it, and he’ll have it.

‘oh, they’re not going to get you. no, you’re far too precious for the likes of them,’ he shook his head in disbelief. ‘when i realised you were going to be sold to some scumbag who’s been divorced three times, well, i couldn’t let that happen.’

your mouth stretches into a perplexed pout, and you let out another soft moan as he rubs diligently at your clit. his other fingers brush over your red lace panties, and he sucks in a breath as he feels how soaked you are. surely you cannot deny him when you’re practically begging for it?

‘but…’ your lips tremble and you are almost deterred from saying what you want to by the scornful look painted across his noble features.

‘surely you don’t want me,’ you scramble to find an excuse.

‘why wouldn’t i? it’s not like you’re a girl anymore, hm? you’re nineteen, and ever so pretty,’ his other hand thumbs your cheek. you didn’t feel it, but you’d been crying. his thumb presses against a droplet.

‘please,’ you plead. ‘you wouldn’t enjoy it—i’m a virgin.’

he laughs, shaking his head at your stupidity. he hasn’t suspected it, what with the way you were dressed; the gown revealing far too much of your body to him—he could see the top of your nipples sticking out of the neckline.

‘oh no,’ he clucked his tongue. ‘then i simply must have you. how could let you i waste your virginity on any of those men when i could have you?’

you shake your head, body trembling as you feel yourself give way to his fingers, which were slowly bringing you to your pleasure. you clutch at the plush sheets and feel yourself gush, your panties growing even more damp.

he can’t believe it, how quickly you came. he wonders if you’d ever even touched yourself before. sure, you’d killed a boy, but you really knew very little about the world, and even less of men. it enthralled him.

his cock strained in his suit pants, and he let out a low grunt. you responded with a shocked look, but sighed as he stood up, letting go of your thighs. the way he’d touched you—it was scandalous. surely he’d be in a lot of trouble if anyone found out?

but your heart fell when you remembered that he was president. it’s not as if you were anything more than a hired whore who had to do her duty by him.

‘you’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?’ he called out, combing a hand over his perfectly styled hair.

your mouth went dry, but you stood up, wanting to be defiant, clawing for anything to make you seem like you had some sense of autonomy. it was a lost cause, however. you forgot how he towered over you now that your heels were discarded. you couldn’t face up against him.

‘i said, you’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?’ his voice was wrought with ire this time, and you nodded.

‘yes sir,’ you respond with a clear tone. you’re surprised you even managed it.

he reaches out to stroke your face again, sighing as your warm cheeks meet the cold pads of his fingers. you tremble a little, knees buckling in fear. anything could happen.

‘now, are you going to be a good girl and show your president how patriotic you are?’ he asks.

‘yes, mr president,’ you reply blankly. the name sends the blood straight to his cock.

‘then get on your fucking knees,’ he commands.

your head is spinning, but you somehow find your way to the ground, knees aching as you press them into the wooden floorboards. you hear the sound of something unzipping, and when you glance up, you come face to face with his cock.

he’s hard, and huge—not that you’ve ever seen one before—and he lets out a heavy grunt as he sees how pliant you are. he wants nothing more than to fuck that pretty little face of yours and watch how you gag around his length. he hasn’t known he was so big until he’d gotten to district 12 and the stupid district sluts kept choking on his cock. when he’d dressed in academy rouge he’d only ever known his own hand. but now, he knew what power he could exert with all eight inches of himself.

‘good girl,’ he strokes your chin, and when you open your mouth, he slides his thumb over your bottom lip.

your saliva coats his thumb, and you gag a little as he slides it to the back of your mouth. a small grin flickers across his lips; if you’re choking on his thumb, just imagine how bleary-eyed you’ll be as you gag around his cock.

‘god, i don’t want to think about what i would be missing out on if you’d died in that arena,’ he tuts at the thought, and slides his thumb out of your mouth, smearing your own saliva at the corner of your lips.

your lipstick is smudged now, and he’s determined to ruin it even more; perhaps even have your mascara running down your cheeks as you take his cock in your mouth.

‘when i’d heard that the victor was to be the eighteen year old girl from district 7, well, i knew i’d be able to have you. especially once i got a look at you, in your victory dress. did they make it that short on purpose? to make my cock hard?’ he laughs, reminiscing how he’d taken a whore that night that looked just like you, pretending it was you that he was fucking from behind.

you shiver, terrified by him, his words. they’re disgusting. the way he viewed you as something to exploit—and it can’t even be considered taboo because you’re nineteen, after all. if the president wants you, he’ll get you.

‘answer me!’ he scowls, tugging at your intricate hairstyle, which hurts because the pins holding it together were already poking at your scalp.

‘no,’ you murmur, because it’s the truth. you wore what they told you to, you didn’t think it was supposed to be for him.

‘no?’ he laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘well then, tonight at least—they must’ve known i wanted to have you. wasn’t going to let you get away from me this time.’

you swallow thickly, mouth agape in terror, knees trembling against the cool floor. you can feel the bruises forming on them; the dull ache of kneeling is humiliating.

finally, he presses his cock against your open mouth, a little pleased that it was hanging agape in shock, making it easier for him to slide it right in. you freeze, blinking back tears of mortification, but you can't say no, not when he's your president, not when there's that nagging ache in your core that makes you yearn for his fingers back against you.

you open wider, and he slides himself in, cock hitting the back of your throat instantly. you gag, the tears now dribbling foolishly down your cheeks, and president snow just laughs, the sound mottled with undertones of a soft groan. you wrap your lips around him, and move to bob your head up and down, but he grabs your hair and tugs it towards him.

you cry out, scalp stinging and mouth stuffed full to the brim with his cock. his grip tightens as he begins to thrust into your mouth, grunting as feels your saliva coat his length. he can't even fit himself all in, it's pathetic, but he'll help you learn in time how to deepthroat, so he can watch as your mascara runs while you beg him to push himself further down your throat. you'll become his personal fuckdoll.

'teeth,' he winces as he feels your top teeth make contact with the skin of his cock, and embarrassed, you make sure to push your top lip around them.

his lips stretch around a groan, forcing your nose to meet his pubic bone—the sound of your gags are delightful, and when his eyes flutter shut, you know he's enjoying it. he tosses his head back, cock throbbing as he forces it back and forth in your mouth. when his eyes open again, it's to the sight of your mascara running, thick black streaks painting your cheeks as you choke around him.

'so pretty,' he strokes your cheek, smearing the mascara even more. he wonders if you'll still be crying as he stretches you out, filling your cunt with his big cock. probably; he's forgotten how much whining virgins do.

feeling himself close, his thrusts grow more haggard, and you feel his balls slap against your chin as you attempt to breathe—through your nose, of course. his movements are suffocating, you're grasping at his hips, praying for it to be over—and then it is.

hot sticky spurts of cum slide right down your throat as he gives a loud moan, crying your name in praise. part of you—the part you revile—reddens at his praises, you want nothing more than to please your president. the other part of you tries not to gag as the pearly ropes of his cum slither achingly slow down your throat.

'good girl, swallowing it all—you'd do anything for your president, wouldn't you?' he coos, pulling his cock out of your mouth.

your lips ache, and you're sure the back of your throat is blooming purple with a bruise; but you nod, eyes all fucked out because your cunt is dripping wet, all for him.

'well, i really only want one more thing from my victor...' his voice trails off, lips pursing. you can see the desire in his eyes, icy gaze dripping with lecherous intent.

and yet, you cannot deny the fact that he had already made you cum once, that your body is begging for him. you hate it. you want to scream—if only you weren't so tired and your mouth didn't ache so sorely.

'how about you lay back in the bed, hm?' his voice is soft, laced now with the sweet tone he uses to charm the wives of senators and the little girls that give him roses.

you oblige blindly, and rise, knees black and blue, legs trembling, but somehow you find yourself laid back against the plush sheets once again.

‘can’t believe nobody else has had you,’ he murmurs, removing his shoes carefully, and then undoing his suit. it’s brand new, and he doesn’t want to spoil it.

when he’s undressed to his boxers, you can’t help but admire his form. he’s well-toned, biceps muscular, the slight formation of abs on his stomach, and you can see his cock has once again hardened. you press your thighs together in want, and he watches as you gaze at him, half-terrified, eyes blown wide, and yet half-wanton, body beckoning him to take you and make you his.

‘god, you’re so pretty,’ he muses, crawling across the bed and placing his arms either side of you.

you shiver, suddenly feeling brushed with cold, perhaps it’s from him. how fitting, you think, that his name and touch are both reminiscent of the cold. you can feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh, a reminder of your helplessness in this situation. the way he’s going to do whatever he wants with you.

he slides his fingers under the straps of your dress, forcing it down your arms. you lie still as a stone, letting him slide the dress down your body, exposing your breasts, watching him sigh as your nipples respond to the frigid temperature radiating from his body.

he takes one breast in his mouth, laving at your nipple until it hardens under his tongue. your hands are urging you to clutch at his perfectly styled hair, but you cannot move; the tears are brimming in your eyes and you’re not sure if they’re out of shame that he’s touching you, or shame that your body is so pliant to his touch.

he pushes the dress down further, and gets on his knees until he’s completely stripped you of it. there you lay, among the pristinely white sheets, the party alive outside of your window; completely bare besides your panties. your skin is pocked with goosebumps as he runs his hands over your bare stomach, fingers latching at the waistband of your panties.

‘god, are you wet for me?’ he chuckled as he removes your soaked panties—still evidence that he’d managed to make you cum.

you are unresponsive until he gives your skin a pinch between his slender fingers, and a soft yelp escapes your lips.

‘talk to me,’ he commands, though there’s an undertone of begging. not that the president should ever have to beg. ‘i can’t have my pretty victor keeping silent, especially not while i fuck her. i want to hear the sweet sounds that are going to come from your lips.’

you give a nod, eyes flickering to glance at the ceiling, watching as the hazy lights from outside dance upon the ornate eaves. one of his hands touches your cheek, the chill bringing you back to meet his gaze.

‘gonna make you mine,’ he groans, reaching down to palm at his cock through his boxers.

you push away the tears at your eyes, and your hands go down to clutch at the sheets. you’re still a little floaty from the champagne, but it can’t seem to take you away from what is occurring right before your eyes.

'look at me!' he snaps, hard cock now pressing against the inside of your thighs.

'sorry,' you manage to get out, lips trembling as you brace yourself—he's big... too big.

'fuck, can't believe i get to have you all for myself...but i suppose it's the least i deserve as president,' a soft laugh plays upon his lips, the sound soon mottled by a low moan.

he eases the tip into your hole, sighing at your tightness. your eyes flutter shut, but strangely, your core only tingles as he slides himself into you. it's the ultimate betrayal—your body is yielding to him, growing wetter as he sheathes himself completely inside of you; at least, most of his eight inches.

'so fucking wet,' he grins devilishly, beginning to buck his hips gently.

you look so angelic, hair sprawled out on the pillow like a halo, the soft lights from the party glowing against your skin. coriolanus wants to take it slow, in spite of how much his cock is throbbing, because you are his prize—he must relish you. he can't let your virginity go to waste, after all. half the capitol has been vying for it, and now he is the one to take it. he imagines the disgruntled looks on the faces of the men who had bid for you when he informs them that you've been spoiled—and if any of them complained, well, he's the president. he could see to their... accidental deaths.

as he stretches out your tight walls, a pretty moan escapes your lips, by accident, but he takes this as a sign that you are surrendering yourself to him. coriolanus smiles a little to himself, and fastens the pace slightly, grunting as your body opens itself to his caresses.

‘you like that, hm?’ he inquires, one cold hand moving down to rub your clitoris.

you let out another gasp, this time of shock and pleasure, as his thumb presses against your sensitive nub. his eyes dance with delight as you come apart under him, your cunt growing slicker by the second. you’re so beautiful, and he glances down at the part where you two meet—his big cock stretching out your tight walls. a milky ring of your arousal coats his shaft, only driving him more lustful as he fucks you.

‘president snow…’ you cry out, trying to shove his hand away.

you can see the ire returning to his eyes, and when he presses down on your clit harder you stop and allow your body to relax. you realise it’s fruitless to try and fend him off anymore—he’s making you feel good, after all. but that’s the terrible part of it, the fact that you can feel waves of pleasure washing over you again. he’s smiling sickly, groaning as he ruts into you with grunts.

‘you're so fucking tight,’ he moans, watching you moan with pleasure as his fingers bring you to climax.

‘so good…’ you say, barely above a whisper, but the knowing look he cast you makes you admit it—after all, perhaps he’ll be kinder next time. let you decide when you want it.

‘yeah? you like the way my big cock is filling you out? how your president is reminding you who you belong to?’ he grunts, and you give a lazy nod.

the coil in your stomach comes unbound slowly as the combination of his cock stretching you out and his thumb rubbing diligent circles around your clit drives you over the edge. your toes curl sightly, arms moving up to grip at his back. you find the smooth, cold skin is surprisingly toned; hard muscles prominent under your touch.

you feel your pleasure peaking, body dancing with warmth and want. you try to stifle your moan by turning your head into the pillow, but his hand grasps your chin and pulls you back to meet his gaze.

‘don’t turn away from me!’ he scolds, brows knitting into a pained expression.

‘i’m sorry…’ you murmur, too ashamed to meet his gaze.

you feel a wave of pleasure wash over your body as his thumb coaxes another orgasm out of you—your second one for the evening. your cheeks fill with warmth as your arousal coats his cock, causing coriolanus to let out a breathy groan.

you pray that it ends soon, but your body continues to dance with pleasure and satisfaction, giving into him, allowing him to make his stake in you. his pretty little victor that he was deflowering—and she came around his cock and everything!

‘fuck,’ coriolanus grunts, hands travelling down to grab at the soft skin of your hips as he pounds into you. ‘all fucking mine. taking me so well…’

when you clench around him, he feels his balls tighten, and cock still for a moment as he reaches his own climax. you’re mewling so prettily—half-begging for him to stop by the way your head roles about in a dissociative reverie shows him that if your heart cannot be persuaded to take him, your body will.

‘shit,’ he spits as he slows his pace, dragging in and out of you at a painfully still speed.

he doesn’t want to finish so quickly, but you’re so fucking tight and your slick coating his cock has set his nerves on fire—his tip is throbbing with desire. coriolanus’ fingers are plunged into the supple skin of your hips, digging far enough that you feel a few bruises forming under the skin.

'so fucking tight,' he curses, sliding himself all the way out before filling you up to the hilt again. the sound of your wet cunt squelching around his big cock reverberates against the walls.

another moan escapes your plump lips, egging coriolanus on—clearly you're enjoying this to some extent; you've come twice tonight. next time he might not be so kind, after all, he's only being so sweet because you're a virgin—you're more like a prize to enjoy than anything else.

'gonna fill you up with my cum,' he sneers, eyes rolling shut as he pushes himself against your g-spot. you contract around him in response. 'you'd like that, wouldn't you? taking your president's cum? so patriotic, aren't you?'

the way he's still squeezing and pinching at your hips urges you to respond, so you cast a groggy nod—the champagne is still making your head swim.

'good girl,' he praises, and you respond with a genuine smile.

coriolanus grunts heavily, his balls tightening, and he feels hot spurts of cum spurt out from the tip of his cock. the relief that washes over him is blissful; watching you take every last drop of him makes him sigh deeply. you can't help but squirm at the sticky feeling as he thrusts his cum back up into you. you're trying not to lurch away in disgust—his hands, now clamping down on your shoulders, are keeping you there, close to him.

when he pulls out, he gazes at your weeping cunt in awe as his cum trickles down your thighs. you’ll always be his—he can see that by the tiny smudge of blood that also coats your inner thigh on one side. he doesn’t know if he can bear to sell you to those other men now; perhaps he’ll just have to lock you up here and keep you all to himself.

‘thank you, mr president,’ you murmur, half on the verge of sleep.

your body is humming with exhaustion, and you begin to curl up into a supine position, trying to force away the uncomfortable combination of his sticky cum and the dull ache between you thighs.

‘i’ll be back tomorrow,’ he presses a kiss to your forehead, smoothing a few tendrils of hair out of your half-closed eyes. ‘don’t think you can get away from me now, my pretty victor.’

1K notes · View notes

rowdyluv · 10 months ago

Text

needed you - qh43

summary: y/n has an intense fear of storms, particularly the incessantly loud rumbling thunder.

word count: 3.4k

notes: @sweetestdesire request for a a quinny fic. “You’re really scared of some thunder? C’mere.” turned out to be angsty but soft quinn

warnings: use of y/n, tense, angst, may induce stress, soft quinn,

"See ya, guys! Thanks for the fun night in," Y/n called out to her friends as they filed out the door, their laughter and chatter echoing down the hallway. She waved goodbye, feeling a bit relieved that the party had wound down. The quiet was a welcome change from the earlier clamor of games and gossip. The apartment was left in a gentle mess, but the warm glow of friendship lingered in the air.

Y/n stretched while she yawned and began to clean up, her mind wandering to Quinn. She knew he was out with the team, but she had hoped he'd be home sooner. The thought of his strong arms around her, calming her raging thoughts through the impending storm, brought a smile to her face and a bit of ease to the sickness winding in her stomach. As she packed away the last of the snacks, she glanced out the window. The night was still, the moon casting a serene light over the cityscape. She couldn't wait to crawl into bed and cuddle up with him, sharing stories about their respective evenings.

Meanwhile, at the bar, Quinn sat in the middle of a booth between Brock and Petey, his shoulders slumped and his eyes glazed over from the beers. The laughter of his teammates washed over him, but he couldn't find the energy to join in. He checked his phone again, noticing it was already 12:30 AM. He had promised Y/n he'd be home early tonight, but the guys had talked him into a few more drinks. He felt a twinge of guilt, but he never truly goes out so maybe just this once it should be okay to be selfish.

“Huggy put your phone down! We’re here to have fun.” Garland slurs from the other end of the table.

Quinn nodded and slid his phone into his pocket. He knew he had to stop checking it every few minutes. It was getting late and Y/n was probably worried, but he didn’t want to dampen the mood with his own anxieties. He took a deep breath and tried to push the feeling aside, focusing instead on the raucous laughter around him. The bass of the music pounded through the bar, making the floor vibrate beneath his feet. It was the kind of music that demanded you to either get up and dance or get lost in the rhythm, and for a brief moment, he let it consume him.

Back at the apartment, Y/n stood in their kitchen with shaking hands, the weather gradually getting worse was setting her nerves on edge. The wind had picked up outside, whipping against the windows like a crazed lover. Rain had started to patter down, a prelude to the storm that had her heart racing. She took a deep breath and tried to convince herself that Quinn was just stuck in traffic or had lost track of time. He'd be home soon, she thought, trying to reassure herself. But the silence of his unanswered texts and calls was deafening.

Her eyes darted around the room, searching for something to do, anything to distract her from the storm brewing outside and the one building inside her chest. She settled on making a cup of tea, her hands trembling as she filled the kettle and placed it on the stove. The gentle hiss of the gas flame igniting filled the room, but it did little to calm her nerves. As the water heated, she checked her phone again, willing it to buzz with a message from Quinn. Nothing. The wind howled, and the rain grew heavier, now pounding against the windows.

“Maybe if I call him?” She thought out loud. The clock read 1:10 AM as she dialed the number she knew by heart.

“Hey, you’ve reached Quinn, leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!” His voice, though much younger and recorded, brought a bit of comfort, but not enough to ease the two storms brewing. The one in her and the one outside. She took a deep breath and began to leave a voicemail, her voice shaky but steady.

“Hey, Quinny, it’s me. Hope you’re having fun with the guys. Uhm just wanted to let you know that the storm is starting to get pretty intense out there... I’m sure you guys are fine and just having a good time. Call me when you get this, okay? I…just mi—want to know you’re okay. I love you, bye!” She hung up before she could say anything else that might betray her fear.

1:30 AM.

The bar was getting louder, the air thick with the scent of stale beer and sweat. Quinn leaned back in the booth, his arms folded tightly across his chest. The music was a cacophony of beats and shouts that didn't quite drown out the thunderous pounding of his own thoughts. His eyes scanned the table, finding his teammates passed out, their heads resting in a pool of spilled drinks and crumbs. He had never felt more out of place, yet he stayed to make sure these morons made it home.

If Quinn knew anything in that moment it was for sure that he’d be getting them back at practice this week.

Back at the apartment, Y/n's trembling grew more pronounced with each passing minute. She couldn't ignore the storm anymore. It had started as a gentle whisper, a hint of rain against the windows, but had escalated into a full-blown symphony of thunder and lightning. Her heart hammered in her chest, each peal of thunder sending shockwaves through her body. She curled up on Quinn's side of the bed, her phone clutched tightly in her hand, the cold screen a stark contrast to her clammy palms. The scent of his cologne still lingered on the pillow, faint but comforting. She buried her face in it, breathing him in, willing him to appear through the door.

‘One more call? No that’s to creepy clingy girlfriendy.. But he likes clingy girlfriendy y/n..’

Her thoughts swirled in a tornado of doubt and fear. Finally, she gave in, hitting the call button with trembling fingers. The line rang once, twice, three times, before she heard his voice, a recorded message that didn’t ease the ache in her chest this time. She took a deep breath, trying to keep the panic from seeping into her voice.

“Quinn, it’s me again. The storm is really bad out here. The lights are flickering, and I’m so scared. I know you’re busy, but I need you. I know you said you’d be home early, and I trusted you. Please, come home soon. I’m not okay without you here with me, especially when it’s like this. I love you so much, and I just want to be safe with you. Call me, text me, anything. I need to know you’re okay. I’m just—I’m really scared, Quinn. I’m sorry, I know I sound desperate, but I can’t help it. I need you right now. Please come home soon. Uhm bye,” she whispered into the void, the weight of her words hanging in the silent apartment like the eye of the storm.

The phone remained eerily silent, the screen a cold, unyielding barrier to the warmth she craved. She sent one more text, a simple heart emoji, and hoped that somehow, it would be enough to break through the barrier holding him hostage from his phone.

With each flash of lightning, the shadows from the windows grew more menacing, reaching in like skeletal fingers to pluck at her already frazzled nerves. Y/n couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed her fleece blanket and bolted from the bedroom, her bare feet slapping against the cool hardwood floor, and dashed into the ensuite bathroom. The only room in the apartment that didn't have windows and hopefully wouldn’t make her feel claustrophobic. The bathroom was a small sanctuary of porcelain and tile, the scent of mint and the hum of the extractor fan a stark contrast to the tempest outside. She locked the door behind her, creating a barrier between her and the storm, but it didn't help. She could still hear the thunder rumbling like a displeased giant, each boom echoing through the walls and reverberating the foundation of the building.

Her phone, now a silent sentinel of her fear, remained in her hand. She checked it again, hoping against hope that she had missed a call or a text. The screen remained dark, cold, and unchanged. Her heart sank, the weight of loneliness pressing down on her chest like a lead blanket. 'Why isn’t he answering?' Her thoughts screamed. She knew he wasn’t the type to ignore her, especially when she was scared. Maybe his phone died, or maybe he was too busy, but the doubt was eating her alive.

Quinn's head snapped up, the sound of his ringtone piercing through the buzz of the bar dwindling down. He fumbled in his pocket, pulling out his phone to see Y/n's name flashing on the screen. He had missed a couple calls and quite a few texts from her, each one more frantic than the last. His heart sank as he saw the time, 2 AM. He quickly stood up, knocking over Petey, who fell into Dak, in his haste. Which worked out in his favor as he had to walk over them. The room filled with fuzzy stars for a moment, a reminder of the drinks he too had consumed. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He wasn’t driving, so he ordered up an Uber home.

As he waited, Quinn felt his stomach twist into knots. He knew how much Y/n hated storms and here he was, leaving her alone to face it. He had promised to be there for her, and now she was probably terrified out of her mind. He scrolled through the texts, each one a silent plea for him to come home. He read the last one, her voice echoing in his mind. "I'm really scared, Quinn." He cringed, feeling like a complete asshole for not being there for her.

The Uber pulled up, and Quinn practically threw himself into the backseat, slamming the door shut behind him. The driver looked at him in the rearview mirror, the concern clear in his eyes. "You okay, buddy?"

Quinn nodded, trying to ignore the guilt that clawed at him. He fumbled with his phone, finally managing to play the voicemails. Y/n's voice filled his ear, each word a dagger to his heart. "The storm is really bad out here," she whispered, and he could almost feel the tremble in her voice. "The lights are flickering, and I’m so scared." The sound of her sobs grew louder, the thunder outside seeming to sync with her cries. Quinn wasn’t afraid of much, so he didn’t quite understand his girlfriend’s fear over storms. It could be because she didn’t care to say why she’s scared, and he wasn’t going to press her. It’s evident they bother her, and it’s enough for him to be the support she needs.

Until he’s not.

The bathroom door rattled in its frame as the storm outside reached a crescendo. Lightning flashing under the space between the door and the floor. Y/n had never thought that lightning was the scary part of storms, it has always been the thunder that had driven her to seek refuge in someone, something, someplace. She wasn’t quite sure why the deep, resonating booms always managed to succeed in getting her so worked up.

Maybe when she was younger it was because she had always associated them with crawling in bed with her parents or if the power went out they would gather in the living room to play games in the candle light. Until the day every thing just up and changed. No one was there to help her weather the storm, figuratively or literally.

Maybe now it’s because she has grown accustomed to associating thunderstorms with Quinn's soothing touch and whispers, telling her that everything would be okay. That with him, he would never let anything happen to her. He, who had become her anchor in the storm, was nowhere to be found.

The Uber ride home was a blur of neon lights and puddles reflecting the chaos of the storm. Quinn's mind was racing, his thoughts tangled with guilt and fear for Y/n. He had never been the one to break a promise, especially not one so important to her. He had to get home, had to hold her and tell her it was okay, even if he didn’t believe it himself.

The car pulled up to the apartment complex, and Quinn dashed out into the rain. The cold droplets stung his skin, sobering him up as he sprinted towards the building. The lights in the hallway flickered as he panted up the stairs, the thunder now a constant drumroll in his ears. His hand shook as he inserted the key into the lock, the sound of the tumblers clicking into place echoing through the empty corridor.

He burst into the apartment, the door slamming against the wall. "Y/n!" he called out, his voice strained with worry. The living room was dark, except for the TV screen flickering with a muted news broadcast. Rainwater dripped from his hair, tracing a path down his forehead and into his eyes. He wiped it away, his heart racing as if he had just played a full hockey game. Quinn let out a heavy breath before he hurried upstairs towards their bedroom.

Reaching the bedroom door, he carefully pushed it open. The sight that greeted him was not what he expected. The bed, usually a bastion of order and comfort, was a writhing mess of blankets and pillows. It was clear she had been restless, her fear probably keeping her from finding any semblance of peace. But she wasn’t there. The room was empty except for the ghosts of his guilt and her fear. He flipped on the lights, the sudden brightness piercing the gloom, revealing the chaos of his side of their now empty bed.

Quinn's eyes searched the room, looking for any clue as to where she could be. That’s when he heard it. A muffled sound, faint but unmistakable. Sniffles, coming from the bathroom. He approached the closed door, the thunder outside giving way to the quiet that follows, as if the storm was holding its breath. He placed his hand on the cool wood, feeling the vibration of the storm's power through it. "Y/n?" he called out as softly as possible.

The sniffles grew quieter, almost as if she was trying to control her cries. She stepped out of her place of refuge enough to unlock the door, she then quickly retreated back to her previous position. She was curled up in the bathtub, her knees to her chest, her chin perched on her knees, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

Quinn’s heart broke when he saw her like this. He had never seen her so scared, so vulnerable. He approached her slowly, not wanting to startle her further. "Hey," he said softly, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder. But she jerked away from his touch, her body stiff and face showing no emotion.

He dropped to his knees, the one desperate for her attention now.

"Y/n, baby, I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine concern. "I had no idea it was this bad." He took a step closer, the scent of rain and alcohol mingling with the faint minty scent of their bathroom. He wished he could take away her fear, absorb it into himself so she didn't have to feel it anymore.

"You promised me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You promised me, I would never be alone again with no warning, no explanation beforehand. You promised you’d be home early." She choked back a cry on the last part, her eyes glued to the faucet, watching the droplets of water fall into the tub. Quinn shattered into a trillion pieces. He had promised all of that. No apology will be enough to make any of this better, he accepted that, but he had to at least try.

"I know," he began, his voice thick with regret. "I fucked up, Y/n. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, I didn't mean to leave you like this." He paused, willing her to look at him, to see the pain in his eyes that mirrored hers. "You're my entire world, you're everything to me. I'd never want to cause you pain, especially not when you're already scared." He tried reaching for her again, this time to push her hair back and combing his fingers through her hair. He left his hand cradling her head.

"Garland told me to put my phone away," he murmured, his voice low and tight. "And before I knew it, Brock was pretty drunk and Petey was extremely wasted. I had a few myself. The music was so loud that the bass kept me from feeling the vibrations of my phone, and I lost track of time. With them so wasted, I felt I needed to make sure they got home okay, but when I finally checked my phone.” Quinn paused swallowing down the knot in his throat “and I discovered your calls and all the messages I left." His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his guilt. "I know it doesn’t account for the fact I should have checked my phone way before, I should have come home earlier like I had promised."

Y/n felt the anger and fear melt away with each of his words. She knew the guys could be a handful. What group of hockey players weren’t a handful? She didn’t want to add anymore to his burden of guilt. She leaned into his hand, the warmth of his touch sending waves of comfort through her. "Can we go cuddle now?" She asked him shyly, her voice still shaky. The storm outside was slowly calming down, but the tempest in her chest raged on. She needed him, needed his warmth and his words of comfort to soothe her. Quinn quickly wiped the shocked look from his that was slapped on the moment cuddle now fell from her lips.

“C’mere pretty girl.” Quinn grins as he lifts her from her bathtub refuge. “I will never pass up an opportunity to cuddle with you.” He softly places her down on her side of the bed, walking to his dresser to grab himself a set of dry clothes, finally. “I’ll be right back to you.”

Y/n nods into his chest, watching him retreat back into the bathroom. She takes a deep breath, the fear of losing him subsiding more and more with his touch. She grabs the first t-shirt she can find from his drawer, pulls it over her head and wraps it around herself like a cocoon. She crawls into bed, able to relax this time around when lying down.

When Quinn returns, freshly changed into a dry shirt and sweatpants, the sight of her in his shirt brings a warm smile to his face. He slides into bed next to her, pulling her close so that they are face to face. Fitting together as if they were made for each other. She feels the warmth of his body seep into hers, the steady thump of his heart beneath her palm as she lays her hand flat on his chest. The rhythm of it soothing her like a lullaby.

"I could feel and listen to your heart all day, just to know you’re okay," she mumbles into the fabric of his shirt, her voice muffled but clear enough for him to hear. He pulls her in tighter, a silent acknowledgement. A low rumble of thunder in the distance happens and he rubs his hand soothingly over the back of her head.

Quinn whispers, "I’m making you a new promise, pretty girl. I promise from here on out I will not be going out when storms are predicted. Only exceptions of course are those to do with work. Unless it’s just the guys wanting to go out, that is not work related.” Y/n didn’t speak, to exhausted to form words just nodded her head in acknowledgment before dozing off.

He watched her for a few minutes, grateful to be holding her in his arms. The thought of her curled up in the tub, terrified, was a knife in his chest. He had never meant to cause her this much pain. He kissed the top of her head reveling in her soft breaths as she slept before whispering what’s been on his mind since his shower to her sleeping form. “I noticed you didn’t end your second voicemail with an ‘i love you’ or now before falling asleep…we’ve always made a point to make sure the other knows, regardless of how bad the argument was. I know you aren’t hearing this because you’re asleep but it’s easier to say it now than looking in your eyes tomorrow and watching tonight all over. I just really hope you know how much I love you.”

“Good gracious, you forget and he gets all sappy. Yes Quinny I love you. I love you. I love you.” In between each ‘I love you’ was a peck on the lips.

Quinn couldn’t help but laugh, the sound low and warm, like a quiet summer night. He pulled her closer, the storm outside now just a faint memory, the rain had turned to a gentle pitter-patter. He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose and finally her lips, feeling the tension of the night slip away with each touch.

"You know you're going to have to repeat that when I’m fully awake, right?" She mumbled falling right back asleep.

“That is perfectly fine, I’ll be right here next to you whenever you’re ready.” Quinn closed his eyes and was soon asleep as well.

A night of two tales, Quinn is lucky it worked out for him and happy he’s able to keep his girl.

#cay writes #quintin hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes angst #Vancouver Canucks fic #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fics #hockey fic #soft!quinn hughes

568 notes · View notes

toxileaf · 20 days ago

Text

griefer has that gamer rizz

[Y0. C0M3 0V3R T0 MY CR1B. 1 G0T SNACK5.]

sent 30s ago

(1.1k words cross-posted to Ao3 || Griefer/Reader)

Looking up from your phone, you gaze back at the doorway in front of you, the entrance obscured with vines and leaves.

You've been here once before, for a vastly different reason than now. Now, you're stood in front of his "cribs" door not as an enemy, but as a friend. After a second of pause, you decide to make your presence known with a yell, seeing as there was no door.

"Griefer!" Shouting to the other side of the wall, you try not to sound too loud, lest you bother the Woodsmen. "I'm here!!"

A few thunks and bumps could be heard from beyond the vines, followed by fast the thumping of steps approaching the entrance right before Griefer pops out through the foliage.

"Y- Y0-!! 1- UH- D1DN'T 3XP3CT Y0U T0 B3 *THAT* QU1CK!1? I T3XT3D Y0U L1K3, 0N3 M1NUT3 AG0 DUD3...???????"

His clothes are messy, jacket haphazardly put on and belt halfway undone. Was he not ready when he sent the text?

"Of course I got here quickly, I've been here before!" I try to give him an easy smile, attempting to dissuade his tension. Maybe I should have waited a bit longer before fast-travelling here...

"?? THAT5 N0T WHAT 1 M3ANT?" He cocks an odd look at you.

"BUT W3LL- 1F Y0U W3R3 *THAT* 3XC1T3D T0 533 M3..." A wide smirk spreads across his face as he flushes and looks to the side in pride.

"H3H. 1'LL 5PAR3 Y0U TH3 3MBARRA5M3NT, PUNK." With the same signature smug swagger, he turns around and leads you into his place.

You take the time to give it a proper look, being unable to fully observe the place the last time you were here.

There's still the same likely-stolen card displays and posters on the wall riddled with grammar mistakes, but there's a rather noticeable decrease in the number of half-drunk or empty soda cans around the room.

It seems he pulled himself at least the slightest bit together after being cured from his Venomshank-induced affliction. It widens the smile on your face a little to know this.

"4LR1GHT, T4K3 A 53AT. Y0U W4NNA PLAY 50M3 BR1CKBATTL3 PARTY?" You look over to him to see him by a couch and TV set-up. It didn't seem new, by the look of the patches on the couch and fading stickers on the TV, but it definitely wasn't there before. He likely brought it up from his actual home.

Taking a careful seat on the couch, wary of any stains (which upon further inspection, the couch was surprisingly free of. maybe he just took it off some random person's doorstep..? the idea of GRIEFER having a stainless couch is impossible to you.), you take in the wide array of snacks on the coffee table. Including a good amount of The Special's... for some reason?

You remember giving a copy of the recipe to Mayor Thaniyel, just in case, but you didn't expect it to ACTUALLY be used.

...Did getting transformed back somehow make Griefer acquire a taste for onion rings and compost? Odd. So very odd. But upon looking over the other offerings laid out, any true discomfort is immediately dissuaded. You greatly appreciate the presence of a good pie.

Griefer hands you a controller, snapping you out of your thoughts. You take it, and he sits down right next to you, his own in hand. He's surprisingly close, actually. Maybe he just doesn't have many issues with personal space.

The two of you load up a party game and get to playing. He, of course, knows all the little tricks and gimmicks to get an edge over you in any competitive mini-games.

"L0L. G3T PWN3D N00B- 0H, H3Y, CH3CK TH15 TR1CK 0UT!" Griefer constantly showed off his skills to you, while you just smiled and nodded, asking after to show interest.

You didn't totally care about video games like that, but you liked seeing him happy. Everytime he showed you something he thought was cool, he had this adorable smile on his face... It made you happy as well. So you let him continue on.

Though there were no windows, you could see the time in the corner of the screen growing later whenever you hopped from game to game. But neither you nor him got much more tired, on account of the sugary snacks he supplied you two with since the afternoon.

Though, even though you could tell Griefer definitely wasn't getting more tired, you noticed *something* was bothering him. He would look away all awkward each time your eyes met, and fall into silence like he was thinking hard about something.

After a bit, it seemed like he finally mustered some courage, and he piped up with a stutter.

"..UH.. L- L00K..-!! 1 CAN D0 TH15 TR1CK W1TH 0N3 HAND!!!" Griefer keeps one hand on the controller, pulling off a "51CK 360 N0-SC0P3", while he swiftly slides his other arm around you, his hand grabbing your shoulder and pulling you in.

Being all the more closer to Griefer, you notice his skin flushing red, and could almost hear the pounding of his heart. It surely couldn't be the sound of your own, since it felt like it had stopped in your chest.

A heated silence passes, almost feeling like an eternity and a half, before he quietly speaks to you. The warmth of his breath hits the top of your ear, sending countless shivers down your back.

"UH.. Y- Y0U'R3 0KAY W1TH TH15, R1GHT..?" You finally notice your half of the split-screen is red, text saying you lost the round. It takes you a bit before you can gather yourself to give a response.

"Yeah-!! Totally! I- I like this!" You panic while responding, and you panic after responding. Why did you say it like *that*!?

While you're wrapped up in your own mortification, Griefer sets down his controller beside him, and moves in closer to you, both his arms now wrapped around your shoulders.

"TH3N.. L3T5 G0 FURTH3R, Y3AH?"

[HAHA FADE TO BLACK PUNKS im not writing smut jjst yet]

You slowly wake, trying to roll over in bed until you're stopped by something warm and sorta leafy pulling you in. Then you remember the bed you're in likely isn't yours at all, though you don't recall actually getting on the bed...

"Hngh... Griefer.." He greets you good morning by nuzzling his face into your hair, leaving kisses atop your head.

"Dude, gross... Your morning breath stinks.." You whine and try to turn away from him, right before he wraps his arms around you even tighter and his lips move down from the top of your head to your ear, giving it a small playful bite.

Writhing around even more, he has the audacity to laugh at your distress while you're captive in his arms.

"G00D M0RN1NG, BAB3..."

originally started writing this to write making out with griefer sloppy style but i lost the horny halfway thru so. another day it is. maybe i shall update with smut who knows but 4now this is all u guyz get. and i know ull eat it for u r starved,.,.!!! as am i. hence why i wrote this. lawlz.

#player x griefer #toxichero #griefer x reader #griefer x player #griefer blocktales x player #griefer blocktales x reader #blocktales griefer x player #blocktale griefer x reader #fuck idk i cant be bothered to put every goddamn tag for griefer/reader in the world #reader insert #x reader #yaba daba doo #i fricking LOVE GRIEFER #maybe i will Not tag blocktales #or the griefer Character tag fkr that matter #i value in depth tagging but. it scares me.#cross posted to ao3 btw

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fernbruises · 2 months ago

Text

★ soccer player!ellie + cheerleader!reader

content warnings: modern!au, college soccer player!ellie, female reader, some very mild sexual references ( but still sexual references nonetheless so minors do not interact ) + that's about it!

word count: 2k

⟡ ellie had clocked you immediately – leaning against the wall, water bottle in hand, looking as effortlessly pretty as ever and already dressed in your cheerleading uniform. you were too engrossed in conversation with a teammate to pay her presence any mind as she made her way down the corridor, hair tied back in a low bun, gear bag gripped in her right hand. noticing you had been almost automatic, but as she brushed past you and neared the entrance to the teams' changing room, she hesitated for a moment. her eyes lingered a little longer than they should have, long enough to admire how you looked in your attire (as if she didn't see you in the exact same uniform every week), and to also clock the small, dark blue bow that decorated the top of the ponytail that hung down your back. she bit back a smile at the sight of it, before making her way around the corner and disappearing into the locker room.

⟡ it hadn't always been this way. you weren't even sure of the moment it had first started. one moment you were strangers – just two people who caught glimpses of each other on the field a couple of times a week – and the next you were swapping playful comments across pre-game hallways, and purposeful glances across the vast, open playing field. that's how it had been for months. just playful and innocent –nothing more. you couldn't remember when things had shifted. perhaps it had been at dina's party, when the two of you had shared a joint and you made a snarky comment about her shitty roll, just for her to shoot back that she was sure "a pom-pom princess couldn't do any better." after that, the back and forth became easy – almost like a pre-game ritual, some might say. the two of you faultlessly found each other, like muscle memory, and your chemistry was electric, always buzzing there – low, but impossible to ignore. things began changing, slowly. brazen bets turned into low whispers, lips flush against ears in crowded rooms; playful jabs turned into gentle touches that lingered, warm and careful, across each other's lower backs. there had been moments, plenty of opportunities for things to happen. where things almost happened. the odd afterparty where your hand had remained wrapped around her wrist just a second too long as she led you through the packed room, or during an alcohol-induced game of truth or dare where you had somehow found yourself pressed against her inside a closet, both of you breathless with drunken laughter while taking full advantage of the tight space. but somehow – somehow, the line had never been crossed.

⟡ she couldn't help herself. it was getting your attention in that moment, or having to wait until you saw her on the field, and ellie was feeling impatient. as she passed you a second time, her knuckles purposefully brushed your shoulder blades and her fingers caught themselves in the ends of your hair, where she gently tugged at the end of your ponytail. it was harmless – one quick pull, barely more than a light flick of her fingers, but still enough to pluck your scalp at the root and pull your head back slightly. "nice ribbon."

⟡ you whipped your head around, your hand coming up to touch the back of your hair as your eyes fell on the culprit. you blinked, a small grin tugging at the corners of your lips as you realised who was to blame, watching as ellie continued down the hallway, never once breaking her stride. how hadn't you seen her arrive? you shot her a knowing look when she took another glance at you from over her shoulder, a shit-eating grin spreading over her face. "keep it cute, cheerleader." oh, she was on top form tonight.

⟡ the warm up drills were already in full swing when you found the perfect spot on the sidelines to watch, leaning your full weight against the metal fence with folded arms. the neat grass was a vibrant green as it stretched before you, and the evening was humming with that unmistakable game-day energy. ellie was already tuned in, everything else around her tuned out – her movements were fluid, the ball dancing between her cleats, almost feeling like an extension of her foot. you watched as she moved in and out of the cones, dribbling the ball with a kind of confident control that was unlike anything else– so magnetic. it was no wonder ellie was always named mvp; nobody else did it like her– nobody even came close. as she shifted position, ready to pass the ball to a teammate, she glanced in your direction from beneath her lashes. her brow furrowed a bit, a hint of a smirk wavering on her lips, before she looked away. you knew she had seen you, and she knew you were watching.

⟡ the floodlights cast ellie in a wash of brilliant white as she moved fast across the field, almost too fast to keep up with – her footwork effortless and fluidity unstoppable. she was all anybody could look at– not only because she played center forward, but because her energy was magnetic. she hadn't even broken a sweat, despite now pushing well over the seventy-minute mark, and her gaze remained focused and steadfast – except for the couple of instances when she would reach a hand up to push the loose strands of hair from her eyes. her command of the game was impossible to ignore. and the power she held over her opponents was undeniable. she was in her element.

⟡ your squad was maintaining perfection; pom-poms shaking in the air, catchy chants cutting through the noise and hitting the crowd from every angle, keeping their spirits suspended at a new high. the volume of their whoops and claps was almost deafening, but even amidst all of that, one thing was clear; ellie was unstoppable. every aspect of her emanated determination; the way her eyes narrowed, muscles and tendons rippling beneath her skin as her body weaved through her opponents', while her feet scooped and dragged the ball like it was tethered to her. then, with one calculated strike, she sent it hurtling past the goalie, straight into the back of the net with shocking accuracy. the crowd, yourself included, went wild– they always did for their star athlete.

⟡ she always knew where to look. ellie had managed to perfect the skill of seeking you out in the hub of onlookers over months and months, getting it down to a fine art as if you were anchored to her gaze. she had already stolen an abundance of short glances in your direction that night, watching you do what you did best– she loved watching you cheer; your squad was beat-for-beat perfect, and everything you did was infectious. but the way you looked at each other tonight, in particular, felt different from any other time. after scoring the final goal in the last two minutes and catapulting your school into the playoffs, her eyes were quick to find yours amidst the deafening roar of the crowd and the crush of her teammates.

⟡ the flash of her dark blue number 7 jersey kept the two of you linked together between the mass of bodies that piled onto her in celebratory jumps and shouts, their hands clapping against her back and shoulders. her gaze never left you, and a wide smile spread over her face, like a kid in a candy store. she loved knowing you had been there to watch, to see her at her best, to be a part of her triumph. but ellie knew to give credit where credit was due – she could run the field, for sure, but there was no denying she played better when you were there to cheer her on.

⟡ "look who's still here." her voice was laced with that same sarcastic edge that you loved to hate, and you glanced over your shoulder to watch her lean against the doorframe of the locker room. "waiting for me?" without missing a beat, you shot back, "i could ask you the same thing, seeing as you're the one seeking me out." you swung your legs around and pivoted your body on the bench to face her completely, eyebrows raising. "also, perv, there could have still been girls changing in here. don't you knock?"

⟡ "oh, i'm only interested in seeing you naked." ellie's grin was effortless, and it only grew wider as she watched your mouth fall open slightly, whilst you desperately tried to bite back a grin of your own; you weren't very successful. "you wish, williams," you rose from your seat, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder before making your way towards the door. "maybe when you score four goals, yeah?" you teased, followed by a small chuckle. you watched as the girl's eyes widened momentarily and she let out a low whistle, sparking a slightly competitive fire.

⟡ she loved a challenge. "ooh, careful. you know i might just do it." ellie stepped out of the doorway and into the corridor to let you exit the locker room, leaning against the wall opposite. "think you could?" "if i'd had another two minutes out there tonight, you'd be down to your panties by now." her quick responses were almost addictive, each one sparking a certain sort of prickling heat beneath your skin – a reckless desire to push the possibilities further and further. "bold of you to assume you would have lasted two more minutes. could tell you were getting tired after that second goal." you shot her a sideways glance as you walked past her, tongue pushing up against the inside of your cheek before you spoke again. "...also bold of you to assume i'm wearing panties." ellie lifted her gaze to the ceiling for a moment, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she processed that devastating visual. "you're dangerous, you know that?" she pushed off the wall and fell into step beside you, her shoulder brushing yours. you chuckled lightly to yourself. "in all seriousness, though, you were great tonight."

⟡ ellie relished in praise from anyone, but from you, it felt different – it made her feel euphoric. untouchable. in one fluid motion and without even thinking about it she switched her bag to her opposite hand and draped her arm around your shoulders, as if she had done so a hundred times before. "yeah?" "yeah," you nodded, reaching up and looping your fingers loosely through hers as you made your way outside, into the cool summer air. "you're always great."

⟡ "mm. maybe it was that little ribbon that did it. a good luck charm," ellie doused her earlier comment in buttery praise, which caused you to roll your eyes playfully and earned a low chuckle from the girl. "gonna have to wear it for me every game, now." you furrowed your brow. "pretty sure you were still scoring goals even on the nights i didn't have a bow in my hair, don't know if i'd call it a good luck charm." you teased, cheeks flushing very slightly. ellie paused for a second, like she was actually considering it, before looking over at you with a small smile. "ah, well. maybe it's just you, then."

⟡ her response was faultless – just enough to make your chest ache in the most delicious way, a certain sort of yearning drenching you from head to toe – and you could do nothing but grin right back at her. "okay, fine. but please don't pull my hair again..." you paused, toying with the idea of whether or not to continue. "...well, not until i ask." ellie's jaw flexed, and she dragged her head back and forth in a slow shake. "just two more minutes, i swear to god. that's all i needed."

author's note: this was fun! very very fun. i love giving college / soccer player!ellie her deserved air time *bites my knuckle* like bro she is so hot it hurts? i need her? anyway let me know how you feel about this!!! and if you want a part twoooo maybeeee? ok byeee love u see u soon 𖹭

#°˖✧˚ fernbruises #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #tlou fanfiction

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