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undressrehearsal · 2 months

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dare to fuck this up

summary: ever since your last game of truth or dare ellie's been avoiding you and it's time for an intervention

tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs and alcohol (not used), oral (e receiving), fingering (r receiving), finger riding (r receiving), little bit of angst, afab reader, the knee thing

a/n: this took me 2 months cause i work full time and it's 10k words so. enjoy (thank u for all the love on part 1! <3) also for anyone who doesn't know the tiktok dance i mentioned i linked it. don't look under the sound you'll spend way too long watching hot women dance

part 1

You hadn't talked about it.

You had woken up the next morning, the sun blinding you from the window that was still left open. A cold autumn breeze ruffled your curtains, pricking at your bare skin. With one foot still in a dream, you'd groaned, turning over and pulling your blanket over your head. You had burrowed your head into your pillow - it still smelled earthy, rich with cologne and the faintest smell of weed. It had made your nose wrinkle only briefly, before you had reached out, searching for the warmth of another body - but your fingers only landed on the sheets, now cool to the touch.

You sat up with a gasp, the blanket pooling around your lap. But you had fallen asleep on top of your blankets, hadn't you?

The comforter was laid neatly over you, the pillows on the other side of the bed propped against your headboard, unbothered. The sun was streaming through the window, filtering through your curtains and shining in splatters of light against your own bare skin. Your small room was deafeningly quiet.

That had been three weeks ago.

For three weeks, Ellie avoided you. You hadn't seen her when you left to take your exam that morning. By the time you got home - after classes and after your part-time job - it was dark. The door to her bedroom was firmly shut, the muffled sound of music leaking into the living room - you wanted to smile when you realized she was listening to that song you had recommended. You thought about knocking on her door; not even to talk about what happened, really, but just because she was your best friend. Instead, you ate leftover takeout - cold because you were too tired to microwave it - and went to bed. You could hear her quietly singing to the music through your flimsy wall, falling asleep listening to her voice.

At first, you honestly thought you had dreamed it. You thought maybe you had fallen asleep, sleep deprivation and vodka drawing out this fantasy in your dreams to torment you when you woke. But when you looked in the mirror, the bruises were still there. You ran your fingertips across the one on your collarbone, pressing at the one left behind your ear; you could still feel the warmth of Ellie's mouth against your skin, her teeth grazing across your hips. The phantom feeling still sent a shiver down your spine, heat creeping in your stomach.

Ellie was trying her best to avoid you, but she still lived with you. After three days of not speaking, you resorted to a different approach. She didn't seem to have any plan to speak with you anytime soon - certainly not about what happened - so you let your body do the talking. You began wearing primarily v-necks and tank tops - ignoring the fact that it was still fall - simply to broadcast the line of lovebites she had left, her signature written all over your skin. They had faded slightly, but the purplish bruises still blossomed along your collar. You began wearing shorts around, short enough to show the bruise on your thigh; you let the fabric sit low enough to show the one at your hip, a pretty blend of colors that made you ache. The few times you did see her - when she was scavenging for food in the kitchen or right when she got home, before she could scurry away back to her room - you could feel her eyes lingering on you, gaze like a brand against your skin, burning all the spots she had marked.

And she would hurry back to her room, locking the door behind her.

Fine.

If she refused to talk about it, you thought, you'd just have to make her.

Which is why, three weeks after your original game - three weeks after that stupid fucking night - you bought a new bottle of vodka (by the time you had found the old one, it had spilled the last of its contents into your rug. Your room still smelled of it). When you got home, Ellie’s door was shut, just as it had been every day for three weeks. You kicked off your boots, leaving them in a pile in the hall, and knocked on her door.

“Sorry, I’m busy,” she called - just as she had every day for three weeks.

You pursed your lips and knocked again, harder.

“I’m busy!” she called again, her voice hard. It might have stung if you didn’t know her so well.

So, you knocked again. And kept knocking, a steady, continuous rhythm that echoed against the walls. You heard Ellie curse under her breath, could hear the scrape of her chair and her footsteps, and you kept knocking. You didn’t stop - didn’t even slow - until she opened the door in a huff, your hand falling against open air.

“What the hell are you-”

You shoved the bottle of vodka against her chest, cutting her off. She gripped it hastily before it could shatter against the floor.

She looked frazzled. You had seen her during several exam seasons, during harrowing projects and infuriating essays. You had seen her in the hospital, two years ago, after breaking her leg skateboarding to work. But there was something in the way her hair was disheveled, sticking up at odd angles as though she had been running her fingers through it over and over and over again. There were bags under her eyes, purplish splotches like watercolor.

And her eyes…. Her eyes were completely shattered.

So you hesitated - briefly, just long enough for her to see the stutter on your lips - before you said, “Truth or dare?”

And the game began.

Ellie looked at you, staring for several moments that stretched into infinity. You wanted to grasp it, to wrap your fingers around that stretched thread of a moment and hold it there where it couldn't hurt either of you. You weren't ready to let it go. But Ellie was looking at you with those broken eyes, and before you could say or do anything - before you caved and took the bottle back, fleeing back to the safety of your own room - the thread snapped.

Ellie shook her head - and kept shaking it, as if doing so would rid her of this… whatever this was. “No,” she murmured, avoiding your eyes as her grip around the bottle’s neck tightened. “No, I’m not doing this. I’m busy, okay? I have an exam tomorrow-”

She moved to close the door - shutting it right in your face - but you kicked your foot out to stop it.

“When somebody asks the question,” you said, reciting the stupid little agreement you both had written out two years ago, the night you established this tradition, “you have to play the game to its conclusion; when you run out of questions or pass out from alcohol poisoning. Those are the rules, El. Remember?”

And still, she just looked at you, her brow furrowed like you were an equation she couldn’t solve - couldn’t even read, really. Her knuckles were white around the bottle’s neck, and when you looked down, her hands were shaking. You wanted more than anything to put your hands over hers, to still them - to bring those hands to your lips and kiss the white knuckles until she released her fists. Instead, you dug your nails into your thighs.

You watched as Ellie took a deep, steadying breath, clenching her fists tighter before releasing the tension, her fingers relaxing around the bottle; her hands stopped trembling. She smiled at you, but it was tight, her eyes empty of their usual mischief. “Alright,” she said, and her voice was just as tight as her fists had been moments ago - the tension not gone, only transferred. “Okay, I’ll play. But you only get an hour - I really do need to study.”

Ellie’s bedroom was the same layout as yours, only flipped, the two a mirror of each other. Strings of lights hung crookedly along the walls, the bulbs casting a soft, warm glow amongst the room, the same hazy hue of a dream. An easel leaned in one corner, a canvas propped against it; there were only the barest scribbles of an outline, incomprehensible to you. You thought it may be a profile, the gentle slope of a nose and soft lips sketched in pencil, but you weren’t sure.

You ran your fingers over her desk as you passed; it was in absolute disarray. Two different astronomy textbooks lay open, covered in highlighter markings and Ellie’s sloping writing in the margins. There were three different cups on the surface in varying levels of full: a mug half full of coffee, still steaming; a glass of water that was completely full, untouched; and a cup filled with murky, grey liquid. A few paintbrushes had been left to sit in that one, and in large writing along the cup was written PAINT DO NOT DRINK. You almost laughed, remembering all the times you had watched your roommate spit water out after she had picked up the wrong cup.

It felt strange when you sat gingerly on her bed. You had sat in this spot so many times before, more than you could count. You had spent so much time lounging on this bed, your laptop open in front of you while Ellie worked at her desk - on homework or her latest painting or nothing at all. There were days laid out before you where you both at lain in a crumbled heap, eating takeout on top of the covers because Ellie didn't give a shit about crumbs, an open laptop playing whatever horror movie she wanted to show you (she was always more scared than you, hiding her face in your shoulder). God knows how many truth or dare games you had played in this room, a bottle of alcohol passing between shaking fingers. When Ellie bought it, it was cheap whiskey and you hated it; you drank it anyway.

Now, sitting on her bed - carefully, as though you thought it might break - your skin felt aflame, a fire burning in your muscles. When you ran your fingers over the messy sheets, you could only remember how it had felt to have your fingers clutching the ones on your own bed.

Ellie sat at her desk across from you, folding herself so that she had one foot propped up on the chair with her, her knee folded to her chest; her other foot tapped anxiously against the floor. She was looking at you, her face strategically neutral, but it was like she was looking through you; her eyes kept shifting away, unable or unwilling to settle on you. Her voice gave nothing away when she said, looking at a spot above your shoulder, “Dare.”

You sighed, feeling the questions wanting to claw their way from your throat with nowhere to go. You knew what you wanted her to do - what you wanted to dare her to do - but the words would only cause her to withdraw further. You felt like you had to approach Ellie as if she were a scared animal, ready to flee at the first sight of danger.

Wracking your brain for something mild, you said, “Try to recreate one of those dumb popular TikTok dances.”

You didn't miss how Ellie's shoulders relaxed, her hands noticeably unclenching. She looked at you and it was almost like nothing had happened; like she hadn’t been avoiding you for three entire weeks, becoming a ghost in your apartment. Like you both hadn’t made what had obviously been a drunken mistake.

The beginning of a smirk tugged at her lips as she dug in her back pocket for her phone - its case had an astronaut on it, because of course it did. The screen illuminated her face, flashes reflecting minutely in her eyes as she scrolled. She bit her lip absently - she often did when she was thinking. You tried not to stare and failed miserably.

“This’ll be easy,” she muttered to herself, half laughing. She scrolled through a few videos, and she had the volume down on her phone, but you could still recognize the song that kept playing on repeat; you were going to fucking die.

There were several minutes of quiet, only the music playing from Ellie’s phone. With nothing to do but wait, you brought your legs up onto the bed, tucking them under you; your eyes wandered around the room, taking in the stack of paintings by her desk, both finished and unfinished. The figurine she had of Kassandra from Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey had toppled on her desk, her spear falling in a glob of paint, the tip smudged bright yellow. You investigated the posters she had hung up of her favorite bands - almost all of them with female singers; she had a very specific taste. On her nightstand, in a frame made of macaroni, there was a picture of her and her dad, taken at the zoo when she was quite a bit younger, the blurry image of a giraffe in the background. She was holding up a peace sign, smiling so wide her eyes were practically shut.

You turned back when Ellie stood up from her chair, placing her phone on her desk. Shoving her hands in her hair, she said, “Can’t promise this’ll be anything amazing, but you get what you paid for.” Even as she said it, she was smirking, a dangerous twinkle in her eye.

You watched as she rummaged in her closet, shoving aside probably half a dozen flannels and at least 10 different band t-shirts. She rummaged through a bucket with a few beanies in different colors, and you couldn’t see her face, but you already knew she would be wrinkling her nose like she always did when she was getting frustrated.

You jumped, startled, when she suddenly exclaimed, pulling her head from her closet and turning to you with a triumphant grin. She held a black belt in her fist, holding it up like a trophy.

You shook your head at her, even as your throat closed up with anticipation. “If it took you that long to find one, it’s no wonder your pants are always hanging from your fucking ass.”

“Hey,” she said, picking up her phone again and looking at you with mock offense; she was still smirking. “I don’t exactly hear you complaining when my ass is out.”

You heard the stutter, heard the way her breath caught after she said the words. It was so stupid - a stupid little remark that she would have made any other day three weeks ago. She wouldn’t have even thought about it, wouldn’t have batted an eye. You would have rolled your eyes and said something mean in response - something like, “I save my complaints for when I see your face instead.” You would have laughed and then watched a fucking movie or something.

Instead, Ellie only coughed awkwardly, ducking her head to fiddle with her phone. In the dim light, you could see the flush of her cheeks behind her bangs. You looked anywhere but at her, your eyes darting around to find something to focus on that wasn’t how pretty she looked when she was flushed pink - how pretty she looked with her cheeks red from alcohol and exertion, her lips shining wetly -

Your brain short-circuited when Ellie started the music - only the bite-sized sample that was trending on TikTok. She set her phone on her desk and took a deep breath, waiting for the song to loop again as she positioned the belt by her hips. She didn’t look at you, instead casting her eyes to the ceiling and muttering, “This is gonna be so stupid.”

When the music looped again, you were forced to watch as Ellie thrust her hips to the beat, pulling the belt slowly away from her hips. When she brought it up to wrap the piece of leather around her neck, pulling it taut, you were surely convinced you must be paying for some sort of crime, that this was your eternal torture. Her movements were janky, stuttering and unsure and off-beat - she had only watched the videos for a few minutes and was relying solely on memory to guide her limbs. When she tried to tie her wrists into the belt, she got stuck, her hands ending up in a knotted mess. Still, her eyes met yours when she raised her bound hands above her head - coincidentally or purposefully - and you couldn’t look away.

This was definitely Hell. It had to be.

When the song started to loop again, Ellie hastily tried to pull her hands from the knot. The belt clattered to the floor, abandoned, as she scooped her phone up, fumbling with the buttons to cut off the music. She nearly dropped her phone in her haste.

When the room was silent again, Ellie sat back down at her desk. Last time you had played, you had asked her to do something ridiculous for her first dare, and she had grinned with pride, practically preening. Now, she wasn't smiling; she hardly even looked at you, fiddling with one of the many paintbrushes on her desk. You compartmentalized the image of her thrusting her hips with her hands bound over her head, saving it for later. You always did torture yourself with these things.

Ellie was looking at that same spot over your shoulder when she said, “Truth or dare?” She sounded pained, her words strained against some invisible weight. It was like your very presence in her room - on her bed - pained her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave and give her relief.

“Truth,” you said, hoping against hope that she would ask you fucking anything about that night three weeks ago.

But she had never been that easy. Ellie had never been one to give you straight answers and she wasn’t about to start now - especially not now. So instead of saying anything - asking anything - about that night that she seemed keen on forgetting, she asked, “What’s the worst first date you’ve been on?” Before you could protest that you always told her about your worst dates, she added, “One I haven’t heard before.”

So for the span of one question, you let yourself believe that you were still talking to your best friend. That she hadn’t been avoiding you for three fucking weeks and this was only your typical truth or dare game in between studying. You believed that you were simply gossiping with Ellie, who had been your best friend for several years and nothing more. In the space of one question, you let yourself believe that this was still only a game and not an intervention.

So, in the spirit of pretend, you thought for a moment, rifling through the index of all the shitty dates you’ve been on. Ellie had already heard most of them, had been there whenever you came back home; she was there whether you were heartbroken or relieved that you wouldn’t see the person again. There were a few times where you had come home laughing, and she had passed you a joint as you told her all about the horrible date - you would take twice as long to tell the story because you couldn’t stop laughing.

Finally, you said, “Okay, this was before we came to college. We weren’t close enough friends in high school for me to tell you, so I don’t think you’ve heard this one before. Stop me if I’m wrong.” She waved her hand for you to continue, twirling a pencil between her fingers. “I had just graduated high school so I was dating around before I left for college - nothing serious, just casually looking around.”

“Window shopping,” she interrupted you with a grin - that same easy grin she always had with you. Your heart tugged embarrassingly at seeing it again.

You swallowed the lump and continued, “Yeah. So, I went on a date with this guy - he was some friend of a friend’s, I didn’t know much about him. We went out to dinner at some local dive bar - which was already fucking weird because, like I said, I had just graduated high school.”

“Was this guy a fucking cradle robber?” Ellie said, wrinkling her nose.

You shook your head. “He may as well have been. He was either 21 or he was just really good friends with the bartender because as soon as he came in, he got two beers - the cheap shit, too. It tasted like musty ass.” Your stomach twisted when she laughed. “So we sit at a booth and I finally get a second to really look at him.” You leaned forward, bracing your hand on the bed so you wouldn’t fall, and made sure she was looking right at you when you said, “And this motherfucker was wearing a shirt that said Black Rifles Matter.”

You reveled in the way Ellie’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening. Her lip turned up in disgust, and the only thing she could say was, “No.”

You grinned, nodding, and you had to focus really hard to not start laughing. “Yes. And I rolled up to this dive bar, fresh out of the womb, with bright pink hair freshly dyed and a crop top that literally said Femme on it in bright pink letters - which, okay, maybe not the choice to wear on a first date with a straight guy, but still. I was in this booth with a baby face looking every bit as queer as I am, and this fucking dude with a patchy mustache and a shirt that has more problems than I care to admit opens up by telling me he doesn’t like when girls dye their hair.”

Ellie was rolling her eyes, on the edge of her seat. She leaned closer as you continued, “But fine, whatever, everybody has preferences I guess. But this guy gets three beers in, and he’s already been talking about weird shit - conspiracy theories and telling me how kids today are too soft - one of those fucking guys, right? But then he stops,” you hold up your hands for emphasis, leaning even closer, “and he leans into me over the table, and he looks me straight in the eye - you wanna know what he said?”

Ellie groaned. “Tell me he didn’t ask who you voted for or some shit.”

You barked out a laugh; it echoed on the walls. “God, I wish. No, this bitch looks me dead in the eyes, his breath reeking of bad beer, and he says, ‘Are you on your period? I have this weird talent for smelling when girls are on their period.’”

You watched, delighted, as Ellie slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling a choked gasp. “No!”

You couldn’t stop laughing, pressing your hand to your stomach as you fell back against the sheets. Her laugh filled the room like helium, making everything feel lighter - easier. Even now, you couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was being around Ellie. And for a moment, you did forget what had happened. You forgot about the string pulled taut between you waiting to snap. You forgot that this was anything more than simply another dumb game of truth or dare.

Until you looked up and saw the press of Ellie’s lips again, the way her eyes darted away, and you could feel yourself sinking again.

And that’s how the hour went. Ellie - infuriating Ellie - did every single dare you asked of her. She did a handstand for a minute straight, her face turning so red you thought she might pass out. She called the local pizza place you often ordered from and asked for one hundred sardine pizzas, laughing when the poor teenage boy on the other line started stuttering. Last time, she didn’t take all the liquid in the fridge and make a nauseating cocktail; but this time, she did go and find four different liquids of her choosing - apple juice, almond milk, an old flat Dr. Pepper, and the remaining vinegar in a Kimchi jar - and downed it in front of you. She tried her hardest to hold a straight face, but only ended up scrunching her eyes closed, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle a gag. She never chose truth.

For your part, you never chose dare. You answered every pressing, embarrassing question she asked, ignoring the flush to your cheeks. You told her the most absurd dealbreaker for a relationship. (“What do you mean you’ll break up with someone if they don’t like garlic?” Ellie asked, smiling even as she shook her head.”) You went through the original Wiggles band and said which you would fuck, marry, or kill (“There are four of them! Do I choose to have a threesome?”)

And you waited. Each time you chose truth, you held your breath. You watched Ellie mull it over, her eyes darting around as she thought, and prayed that she would just ask you something. You knew it was an unrealistic wish, but you still watched her lips and hoped against hope that she would give you some kind of acknowledgement that this wasn’t all for nothing. You just wanted her to stop being such a pussy and fucking talk about what happened.

But the clock kept ticking.

After about an hour had passed, Ellie looked at her phone and sighed, standing up. “Okay, I really have to get back to studying. I have this dumb astrophysics exam tomorrow and I can’t wrap my fucking head around this shit, so I have to -”

“One more,” you cut her off, standing up from the bed. You followed her as she walked to the door, one step behind her when she put a hand on the doorknob. She paused, her hand frozen there as she looked at you - actually looked at you, not through you. It was only a moment, but it was there; you could feel the way her eyes had branded your skin even after she’d looked away. Your voice was rushed, breathless when you added, “We haven’t even opened the bottle, so what’s one more? Just for fun.”

Ellie looked behind you, back at the vodka bottle on her desk with the seal still intact. She sighed, but she never could say no to you.

“Fine,” she said, and her voice was so quiet in the dark room; the word felt like a secret between you, soft against the tension stretched thin. “One more.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. You tried to sound casual - you really did - but when you spoke, you found you couldn’t speak any louder than a whisper, afraid to disturb the air around you. You ducked your head, trying to meet her eyes when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?”

She looked at you, meeting your eyes, and she seemed to deflate, sighing out a breath that ruffled your hair - you hadn’t realized how close you were. Her breath smelled of canned ravioli and weed; it was almost enough to make you laugh.

Ellie took a step back, clearing her throat, and answered for one last time, “Dare.” Because she was too afraid of the fucking truth.

And fuck it if your heart didn’t stutter in your chest. You felt your fingertips buzzing, your stomach twisting nauseatingly. You felt like you were going to be sick, but you forced yourself to look up at her. You squared your shoulders, feeling like you were preparing for fucking battle, and said, the words familiar on your tongue, “Kiss me.”

A moment of silence passed, the words suspended between you. They were tangible, and part of you still wanted to snatch them back - to swallow them and leave, to pretend this never happened - but you didn’t. You held them out to Ellie - you weren’t sure if they were a threat or an offering.

Ellie didn’t recoil, and you weren’t sure if that was more insulting. She looked at you for a long moment before turning away, shaking her head and turning the doorknob. “I really need to study, okay? I don’t have time for thi-”

You put your hand against the door, holding it there so she couldn’t open it. Your stomach was a mess, tying itself into knots that you would never be able to undo. And you knew - you were far too aware - that this could ruin everything. It could drive her further away, pushing her further into this little cocoon she was hiding in. Ellie might hate you for it.

But this was too important to ignore.

“Kiss me, Ellie,” you said again, and you could feel the bite of it on your own tongue. When you had said it three weeks ago, you had been so unsure. It had been a rush of words on a breath, tinged with alcohol and desperation. The words had been so careless, a sober idea that had made its way from your drunken mouth.

Now, Ellie was the one who couldn’t look at you. She stared at the spot where your hand pressed to the door, willing you to let go. Her knuckles were white around the doorknob. Her voice was a rumble that you felt in your chest when she said, “I need you to leave. Please.” That last word - please - made your heart break.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat and said, “No.”

Ellie finally turned her whole body towards you, but she was wearing a mask; she had schooled her face into a mockery of nonchalance, her eyebrows raised expectantly as she watched you. She crossed her arms, leaning against her hip, and watched you with measured expectancy, shaking her head. She shrugged and said, “What do you want? I really need to study.”

And it was the lack of care that broke you.

You slapped your hand against the door in frustration, feeling the sting in your palm, disappointed when Ellie didn’t so much as jump. You shook your head at her, and you were so fucking angry you could feel tears stinging at your eyes. You blinked them away and snapped, “What’s your fucking problem?”

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up, her mouth opening in indignant shock. “What’s my problem?”

“Yeah,” you cut her off before she could even continue. “What’s your fucking problem? You know what happened - what we did - but ever since that night you have been so determined to act like it never happened. You haven’t even talked to me in three fucking week, Ellie!” She closed her eyes when your voice broke on her name. “You’ve hardly looked at me all night. And look,” you sniffled, feeling some of the fire in you die down, “if you regret it - if you want to act like it never happened and go back to how things were before, I get it, okay? But can you at least have the balls to fucking tell me?”

Your voice echoed off the silent walls, filling the space between you until you couldn’t breathe. You wiped a hand roughly over your face; your cheeks burned and you hated yourself for it. The room was so quiet you feared Ellie could hear the sound of your racing heart.

It felt like hours before Ellie spoke; her voice was so heartbreakingly quiet, tip toeing on eggshells that were already broken. “I don’t regret it.”

You huffed out a breath, shaking your head as she still wouldn’t meet your eyes. She couldn’t even look at you. When you took a step closer, you could feel the heat radiating off of her body, could feel the warmth in your chest. Your voice had lost its fire, your throat cold and raw and broken. You could only murmur, “Then kiss me again, Els. What are you so afraid of?”

“You,” she snapped. You jumped, taking a step back; your heart lurched when she finally looked at you. Those shattered eyes were watching you, so open and vulnerable you wanted to look away. You forced yourself to watch, to bear witness to it when she shook her head, blinking tears from her eyes. Ellie pressed her lips together, blinking several times before releasing her held breath. She held your gaze like it was a lifeline and said, “I’m scared of you.”

And just for a moment - so filled with silence it might pop - you saw it. You saw how Ellie had run from you like an injured animal, hiding away. You saw the way her hands shook around her biceps. You saw the way she bit her lip to keep it from quivering.

You shook your head, feeling so incredibly small underneath those eyes that had avoided you all night; now they were vividly, overwhelmingly focused, broken in the hazy light and so green it was dizzying (and you couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol this time). You didn’t recognize your own voice, so small and vulnerable that the words themselves ached: “How can I fix this, Els? You want me to-” You huffed out a heavy breath, choking on your own voice. “Do you want me to act like it didn’t happen? Do you want me to leave you alone? I’ll do whatever you want, Ellie, I just… fuck. I just want my best friend back. So just… tell me what I did wrong.”

You jumped when Ellie barked out a laugh, so dry it cracked. It may have been a trick of the light, the soft string lights making everything feel unreal, but when she looked at you again, she went impossibly soft.

“You,” she said, so softly it ached, “haven't done anything wrong.” She sighed, leaning back against the wall; it was like all the fight suddenly drained from her, her shoulders sagging against the weight of three weeks. She looked away, her lashes casting shadows over her cheeks, and said, quiet as a confession, “You were drunk.”

You furrowed your brow, shaking your head. “What?”

Ellie ran a hand through her hair, making it even more disheveled. Pathetically, you wanted to fix it; you knew how soft the strands would be under your fingers.

“You were drunk,” she repeated, as though it pained her; as though it explained everything. Her voice broke, the shattered pieces falling at your feet. “And I…. Fuck, I shouldn’t have pushed you. I shouldn’t have… forced myself on you.” She heaved in a shaky breath, her words tumbling from her, broken glass cutting her throat, leaving it raw. “I couldn’t even… wait for you to wake up after. I just fucking ran - I couldn’t even look at you, and that’s even shittier! And for three weeks, I’ve been trying to figure out how to fucking talk to you when I know that we - that I shouldn’t have done that.”

Ellie pressed her hand to her mouth, taking in a shaking breath - her entire body was trembling as she fought to hold it all in. She looked ready to burst, struggling to take in a deep breath. You reached out to grab her hand - to hold her together - but she flinched away.

“I don’t-” you started, unable to find the words. You watched your best friend dissolve, and you couldn’t seem to fit all her pieces back together. “Ellie… Els, are you saying you’re avoiding me because - because you thought you took advantage of me.” The words tasted ridiculous on your tongue, a foreign object.

Ellie was shaking her head wildly, her hands balled into fists. “You were drunk!” she repeated, like a mantra. She pressed a hand to her chest as though to keep everything in. “You were drunk, and you kept telling me no, and I just… pushed. I pushed and I didn’t know when to stop and, fuck, I still can’t believe I did that and I didn’t even have the fucking balls to face you or even tell you I’m sorry, and-”

“Ellie.” You reached out and grabbed her wrist, cutting off her rambling; she flinched again but didn’t pull away. She looked up at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable and so impossibly green. “For one, do I need to remind you we were both drunk. And that I was the one who told you to kiss me?”

She watched you carefully, guarded; her bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss it again more than anything. She took in a deep, shaky breath, ignoring the tears running down her cheeks; they mixed with her freckles like watercolor. “You kept telling me to stop - to leave it alone. And I didn’t listen.”

“Els, I told you to stop because I was scared,” you admitted in a rush. Before she could respond, you continued, “Not of you. I was scared of how badly I wanted you, okay? And that’s fucking embarrassing to admit, but I’m saying it so you know it wasn’t your fault. I was scared because… fuck.” You scrubbed a hand over your face, feeling tears on your own cheeks. “Because you’re my best friend. And I knew that, as much as I wanted it, it could fuck everything up. But I didn’t want you to stop.”

She shook her head. Her voice was raw when she said, “You couldn’t fuck anything up. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Neither did you,” you practically shouted. “Ellie, I asked you to kiss me! Yeah, I had a few shots that night, but I knew what I was doing. You asked me how long I’ve wanted it - what did I say, Els? Tell me.”

Ellie looked up at you, her cheeks splotchy from crying; she let you slip your hand into hers anyway. “A long fucking time.” It was no more than a whisper.

“Yeah,” you said, gripping her hand to keep her grounded. “Not just when I was drunk. Not just when it was late. And definitely not just when you wanted it too. I’ve wanted you for a long fucking time, Els.”

Ellie watched you, studying you like you were an equation she couldn’t figure out (she really needed to study for that astrophysics exam). She pursed her lips, nodding slowly, rubbing roughly at her damp cheeks. “Yeah.” Her voice broke again; she cleared her throat. “Yeah. Me too.”

You took a step towards her; her body was so warm it was dizzying. You could hear her breath catch when you reached up and pressed your palm to her cheek.

“What do we do now?”

When she sighed, you could feel it on your lips. You felt the warmth of her hand at your waist, a steady anchor. “Like you said,” she murmured, her gaze soft; she reached up to brush your hair from your face, her fingers grazing the side of your neck. “This could fuck everything up.”

Your heart lurched; you swallowed it back down so it could throw a fit right next to your twisted stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered, afraid to break the spell that made Ellie’s eyes watch the way your lips moved, captivated. “But….”

“But,” Ellie repeated, leaning in so her nose brushed against yours; it was cold against your skin.

You hardly had to move to kiss her, tilting your chin up to finally kiss that pouty bottom lip you had been staring at. You heard her breath catch again, her fingers pressing at your waist, drawing you closer so the warmth of her pressed against you. After three fucking weeks, you hadn’t forgotten how her lips felt against yours. It was just as intoxicating as it had been the first time; you were dizzy with the way she moved her mouth against yours, warmth spreading through your chest.

Ellie broke away from you, but she didn’t stray far; she pressed her forehead to yours, and you could see that her eyes were still closed, her brow furrowed. She sounded impossibly small when she said, “Are you sure about this? I mean, what-”

“Ellie,” you interrupted; you twisted your fingers into her short hair and tugged lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from her lips. “Just shut up for once, okay?”

You hardly even heard her replied Okay before her mouth was on yours again. Last time she had kissed you, you had felt lightheaded, floating with the weight of alcohol in your veins. Each press of her hands on you had felt unreal and distant, like she was touching you in a dream.

Tonight, the vodka bottle sat unopened and forgotten on her desk, and Ellie was pressing against you with a sharp realness that made your breath stutter in your throat. When her fingers ran along your jaw, cupping your face and tugging you closer, they were lightning against your skin. She had the welcoming warmth of a bonfire, and you were like a fucking moth drawn to her.

Ellie took a hesitant step forward, pressing you back, moving so slowly as though she thought you’d push her away. You let her push you backwards - encouraged her, really, entwining your arms around her neck and tugging her with you. You stumbled on the last few steps, practically falling back against the wall; Ellie braced her hands on either side of you to keep herself up, laughing into your mouth. You wanted to swallow the sound, to take it into your chest where it could curl up right next to your heart.

The wall was cold against your back, but Ellie was quick to chase it away; her warm hands ran up your back, rucking up your shirt and scratching her nails lightly over your skin until you shivered. She was so gentle with you this time, running her fingers over your skin with such careful deliberation, as though each kiss and each caress was meticulously planned out.

It was with this painstaking consideration that she lifted your shirt, pooling it around your chest; you raised your arms so she could pull it over your head.

Ellie snickered, snapping the strap of your bra against your skin. “This is new.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, batting her hand away. It was one of your nicer ones, and you couldn't tell her that, embarrassingly, you had worn it on purpose with the hopeless thought of just in case. “Sorry I’m not in my pajamas. I’ll be sure to fix that next time.”

She grinned, ducking her head to press a kiss to your jaw. She hummed against your skin, “No, I like it.”

You didn’t talk about the implication of what you had said - next time. But the way she kissed her way across your jaw, her teeth grazing over your skin and sending a shiver down your spine, promised a next time. As Ellie’s tongue darted out to lick along your pulse, you could feel the words in the breathy sigh that escaped your lips. When she ducked her head to bite at your collar, she branded the words into your skin.

“You’re such an asshole,” she said, her laughter warm against your skin. She pressed a gentle kiss to your collarbone; the bruise had long faded, but the phantom ache was still there. You could feel her smile when your breath hitched. “Just had these on full display. Drove me insane.”

You huffed out a laugh that stuttered when she pressed a kiss at the edge of your bra. “I had to get your attention somehow, didn’t I?”

Ellie lifted her head to meet your eyes. Her voice was barely above a whisper, her breath brushing your lips when she said, “You’re crazy if you think you’ve ever not had my attention.”

When she kissed you again, it was with a new fire that burned bright in your chest. Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer so that you could feel her body against every inch of you. Her fingers dipped below the waist of your pants, pressing at the soft skin there. You felt her tongue press against your lips; when she ran it along the room of your mouth, she swallowed your moan.

Ellie hummed against your lips, pressing you firmly into the wall and shoving a knee between your legs. You gasped at the sudden friction, heat pooling in your stomach when Ellie gripped your hips and pulled you closer, grinding against her sweatpants-covered leg. Her lips brushed against your ear and she murmured, “Tell me to stop and I'll stop.”

She had said those same words last time, pressed drunkenly into your skin. There was an affirmation hidden somewhere underneath: Do you still want me? Before, they had been slurred, like a sloppy kiss against your lips. Now, her hands steady against your hips, her body warm from something other than vodka, it was whispered like a promise.

You answered by pressing your hands to her chest; she didn’t fight you as you pushed her away, didn’t hesitate as you walked her backwards until the back of her knees hit her bed. She let herself fall backwards, but she wrapped her arms around your waist as she did so. You fell into a crumpled heap on top of her, knocking the air from both of your lungs, and you could feel her laughter against your neck.

Lifting yourself up on your elbows, you glared down at her; she only answered it with a grin, lifting herself just enough to kiss you briefly. You couldn’t suppress your own smile when you said, “You’re infuriating.”

Her eyes sparkled mischievously. She hooked her fingers in your belt loops and gave them a tug as she said, “Yeah, get used to that.”

You kissed her again to hide your smile. You didn’t talk about the inclination of that either.

Growing impatient, you swung your legs on either side of her, sitting up and straddling her hips. Ellie’s hands ran up your sides, captivated, as though refusing to keep her hands off you for even a moment. You idly ran your fingers over her stomach where her hoodie had risen up, the warm skin right above her sweatpants; you delighted in the way she shivered at your touch.

“This doesn’t seem fair,” you hummed, running your hand higher up her abdomen, revealing the expanse of soft skin; if you pressed just a little bit harder, you’d be able to feel the muscles beneath. You smiled when you heard her breath stutter, chest rising just slightly to meet your touch. “You’re wearing way too many clothes.”

Ellie - ever enthusiastic - wasted no time in sitting up just enough to tug her hoodie over her head, leaving her hair an absolute mess. She tossed it across the room; you thought you heard it knock something over, but you didn’t have a chance to look before Ellie was grabbing your hips, digging her fingers into the soft skin. You gasped when she used the leverage to pull your hips down, grinding against her.

This time, she was the one not wearing a bra - she had been home studying all day, so you hadn’t expected otherwise - and your eyes raked over miles of fair, warm skin. You wanted to run your fingers over it and watch the shiver your touch pulled from her. You wanted to press your lips to every inch of hot skin and feel the way her body arched into you, chasing your tongue.

But she was watching you with an intoxicating shade of anticipation in her half-lidded eyes. You realized you had been staring for a few seconds too long because she had that cocky ass grin on her stupid face.

“Like what you see?” she teased, pulling your hips down again so you had to bite down a moan.

“Shut the fuck up,” you mumbled. You couldn’t tell her how many times you had imagined what she would look like under your hands or how you had always wondered how far down her freckles went (you couldn’t keep yourself from running your fingers down her chest, tracing them like constellations). You couldn’t tell her how your eyes had tracked her anytime she walked around the apartment in a sports bra or, sometimes, in only a towel, your imagination running away from you.

If you told her, she’d never let you live it down.

Instead, you let your hands drift across the small swell of her chest, feeling the way her body arched into your fingers. You had to bite back a grin when your thumb brushed over her nipple, feeling her body shudder beneath you. You wanted to record the way her breath caught in her throat to listen to over and over again. Her eyelids fluttered, her lip caught between her teeth; you knelt down to kiss her, hard and deep, smiling into it when you pinched her nipple gently and she moaned against your lips, fingers tightening around your hips.

You needed to taste her, you realized. Your mouth watered with it.

You bit her bottom lip between your teeth, grinning when you heard her hiss. You took a moment to kiss your way across her jaw and down her neck, open-mouthed kisses pulling sighs from her lips. You couldn’t resist sucking the skin into your mouth, feeling the way her pulse jumped under your tongue and loving the moan that rumbled in her throat, her fingers gripping your hips so tightly you were sure you'd have bruises - again. But when you pulled away and saw the red beginnings of a bruise on her pale skin, a thrill ran through you. She would have to walk around with a physical reminder of how you had made her feel.

You loved revenge.

But you weren’t like Ellie, who had taken her sweet time in unraveling you. You didn’t have that kind of patience - certainly not now, not tonight. You had spent far too long holding yourself back - too long averting your gaze, never letting your touch linger. You had spent so long schooling your own imagination, trying to ignore the way your heart stuttered whenever Ellie wandered too close. You had spent too many nights letting your mind wander, only feeling safe to let your imagination run when you could hide in the dark; you had spent far too many nights with your hand between your legs and the fleeting image of green eyes and that crooked fucking smile.

So no, you didn’t have any patience left in you.

When you reached between your bodies and pressed your palm to her sweatpants, you swallowed her moan, drinking it in and feeling like you could survive on it alone. Maybe it would finally satiate your fucking thirst.

Kissing your way down her chest, you pressed the words into her skin - “I can't fucking believe you though I didn’t want this.” - before pressing the flat of your tongue to her nipple. You could get drunk on the breathy moan that dripped from her lips, the way she arched up into you like her body ached to be closer to yours. She pressed her hips into your palm and you could feel the heat through her sweatpants.

When you pulled back just enough to tug at her sweatpants, Ellie started laughing, breathy and hitched as she said, “Little eager, aren’t you?” Even as she said it, she was lifting her hips, pushing hastily at her pants to get them off faster.

The fabric was damp when it dropped to the floor, pooling around her ankles. Stepping off the bed, you placed your hands on her knees, pushing them apart. You dropped to your knees and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the skin above her boxers. Her skin was hot under your tongue when you said, “Haven’t I waited long enough, Els?”

Ellie only responded with a moan as you sunk your teeth into the soft flesh of her thigh and pressed the heel of your palm to her underwear. You grinned against her skin when she cursed, grinding down into you. You soothed the bite with your tongue and backed away to admire the red beginnings of another bruise.

Ellie groaned, twisting her fingers in the sheets when you ground your palm into her. “Fuck, I’ve waited long enough too, right?”

You couldn’t hold back your grin, tugging at her boxers so she would lift her hips. With her underwear around her ankles, Ellie lifted herself up on her elbows so she could look down at you. Whatever she saw - you on your knees between her legs, lips parted so your hot breath fanned over her - made her groan, another breathy curse falling from her lips. She reached down and carded her fingers through your hair, fingers soft against your temple.

You smiled, blinking coyly up at her, and said, “Little eager, aren’t you?” before pressing the flat of your tongue to her clit.

The moan that wracked through Ellie’s chest sent warmth spreading through your stomach, an ache pooling between your legs. You raised your eyes to watch her as you licked a slow, painstaking stripe over her slit, watching the way her mouth fell open in a choked gasp. The metallic taste of her on your tongue made your head spin; you moaned when she twisted her fingers in your hair, delicious pain stinging your scalp when she tugged.

Ellie gasped your name like it was a promise. “Fuck - what the fuck -” Nonsensical words dripped from her lips with abandon, sweet as honey to your ears. When you ducked your head down to press your tongue inside her, a brief, hot pressure, her fingers tightened in your hair, her voice hitching when she cursed again, her words slurring together.

You wrapped one arm around her thigh, feeling the muscle trembling as you pressed your fingers into the soft flesh. You ran your other hand up her stomach, feeling the way her breath quickened in the rise and fall of her chest. Stretching further, you flicked your thumb over her nipple and tightened your arm around her thigh when her hips bucked, holding her in place.

You wrapped your lips around her clit, sucking it into your mouth and fighting back a smile at the keening whine it pulled from her. Her fist in your hair tugged you closer, guiding you exactly where she wanted you - and how could you resist her when she was chanting your name like a prayer?

A shudder wracked through Ellie’s body when you flicked your tongue over her clit, lapping at her like you were starving. (After waiting so long to taste her, you might as well have been.) She groaned when you pinched her nipple between your fingers, her thighs clamping around your ears. Her legs shook when she came, your name on her tongue as though it were the only word she knew. You coaxed her through it, the flat of your tongue licking over her clit until she was gasping for breath, her hips slumping back against the bed.

You peppered kisses over her thighs as she came down, your hand brushing across her stomach in soothing circles. Your knees ached from the cold floor, the carpet burning against your skin, but you couldn’t convince yourself to move just yet. When you glanced up at her, Ellie was looking down at you with glassy eyes; she had slumped back a little against her elbows, her limbs jelly - you tried not to let that go to your head - but she held out a hand to you, grasping for you. “Fuck, come here.”

You both took the time to finally scoot further up the bed, Ellie's head propped on her pillow, her hair a messy halo around her. She pulled you on top of her, bracing her hands on your hips as you straddled one of her legs. When you leaned down, she tilted her chin up to meet you, kissing you lazily, licking into your mouth like she had all the time in the world - like she could kiss you forever and it still wouldn't be enough. With your elbows braced on either side of her head, it felt like you were both in a small bubble, the world left outside to wait for you. Fuck, maybe you did have all the time in the world.

You gasped when Ellie raised her leg, pressing it between your thighs with an intoxicating pressure. She used her hands on your hips to push you down, guiding you as you grinded down against her. She broke away from the kiss, taking a moment to just look at you. Her pupils were blown, swallowing the green entirely.

She grinned, endearingly lopsided, and murmured, “Now you're wearing too many clothes.” You whined a protest when she took her hands off your hips, but she only reached behind you to fumble with the clasp of your bra. It took her a few tries - you bit back a laugh when she cursed in frustration - and she threw it across the room when she finally got off.

“Who the fuck designed those things?” she grumbled, fingers quick on the button on your jeans.

You got off of her for only a moment, just long enough to kick your jeans and underwear off, but each second her skin wasn't on yours was agony. Your clothes hadn’t even fallen to the floor before Ellie was pulling you back in by the nape of your neck, her other hand guiding your hips back over her leg as she kissed you with a hunger that may as well have devoured you. You hissed when her teeth sunk into your lip, her tongue soothing over it before licking into your mouth.

Your breath caught on a broken moan when she pressed her thumb into the dips of your hips, pressing you back to grind against her leg. The feeling of your bare pussy sliding against her thigh made you lightheaded, the dizzying pressure sending sparks through your stomach. Ellie's fingers still on the back of your head twisted in your hair, giving it an experimental tug; you felt her smile against your lips when you whined. You were pliable under her hands, your hips stuttering against her leg.

Ellie pulled away, pulling you back by your hair just far enough away for her to look at you; her eyes raked over your body with a hunger that set you nerves on fire, looking ready to devour you.

“God, look at you,” she breathed, raising her leg just slightly, the added pressure making your heart stop. Releasing your hair, her hand ran down your side, sliding across your chest. You moaned when her thumb grazed over your nipple, your hips stuttering; her other hand on your hip tightened, fingers digging into the bone. “So fucking wet for me and I've hardly even touched you.”

“Shit,” you cursed when Ellie bucked her hips, her thigh grinding into you. You tried to glare down at her even though you knew your own traitorous eyes betrayed your growing desperation. Her cocky smile didn’t quite land, its impact softened by the way she watched your lips in fascination, her pupils blown - you couldn’t see the green anymore. Your voice wasn’t nearly as hard as you wanted it to be, your want softening the words: “Fuck off, Els, don’t be a dick.”

“Am I being a dick?” she asked in mock offense, pouting up at you. “Good things come and all that shit, right?” Ever as she was teasing you, Ellie’s hand crept down your stomach, fingers warm against your hungry skin. She lowered her leg just enough to slide her hand between your thighs. You gasped, feeling lightning in your veins when those calloused fingers slid over your clit, already wet with want. Her eyes darkened, her lips parting. She slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into her, and said, “Fuck, look at you. God, I finally get to see you like this….”

You struggled to speak past the breathy moans beginning to drip from your lips: “Finally? How - ah - fuck - how long - how long have you…?” You couldn’t think of a way to finish that sentence, your thoughts clouding over when Ellie dipped just the tips of her fingers briefly inside you, gathering your wetness.

“Like you said,” she murmured, finally pushing two fingers slowly inside you; even as she kept talking, she watched your face carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort, “a long fucking time.”

Your jaw went slack when she curled her fingers, gasping when she found that spot that made you see stars. She paused, as though giving you a moment to adjust, unaware of just how many times you had done this with your own fingers.

“Shit, Ellie,” you moaned, canting your hips down into her hand. She adjusted her arm, positioning herself so that the heel of her hand pressed to your clit, pulling another breathy moan from your lips. Her other hand was still on your hip; she pushed you back, guiding you to grind on her fingers. “Ah - fuck.”

She watched you carefully, fascinated by the way your eyes rolled back in your head, your brow furrowed; you felt her own wetness on your thigh again. Her voice was so fucking breathy when she said, “How long have you wanted this, baby?” She hummed; releasing your hip, she ran her hand up your side to knead at your tit, her fingers so careful against you. You groaned low in your throat when she flicked her thumb over your nipple. “How many times have you come thinking of me? Did you imagine my fingers inside you, angel? Did you moan my name?”

You couldn’t even think of a snarky response; you were too distracted by the way her fingers curled inside you as you fucked yourself against her. Her rough palm slid deliciously against your clit, grinding into her with a growing desperation that made your thighs shake. Your shoulders ached from holding yourself over her but it was only an afterthought as you felt a tight warmth building in your stomach. You leaned down just enough to kiss her, moaning into her mouth when words failed you.

“Fuck, look at you,” Ellie repeated, groaning when your hips stuttered. You were lightheaded, fucking yourself desperately on her fingers, grinding down against her palm and chasing that intoxicating warmth spreading inside. “So fucking pretty for me.”

She kissed you as you came, licking into your mouth and tasting herself on your tongue. You pressed your clit down into the heel of her hand, riding it out, feeling the way that warmth spread down to your fingers. Ellie broke away from the kiss to trail her lips down your neck, leaving wet kisses along your skin and saving every broken moan that was gasped right into her ear.

Ellie didn’t move as you came down, letting you ride out your high, tracing gentle circles down your side. You slumped against her, your arms giving out; your weight landing on her forced all the air from her lungs. She only laughed breathlessly.

It was several long moments before you were able to move again. Ellie ran her fingers through your hair as you gasped into her neck; she hummed absently and you could feel the vibration against your lips.

When you were able to, you slowly lifted yourself off of her, wincing slightly at the sudden emptiness. With gentle hands, she guided you back down to lay beside her; you curled up against her without waiting for her invitation, resting a hand on her bare chest so you could feel the steady pounding of her heart.

Ellie didn’t wait for invitation either before she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer; she was blissfully warm against the suddenly cold air. Something tugged pleasantly at your chest at the realization that you would no longer have to monitor your own movements so carefully - you could touch her, you realized, any time you wanted now. God, how were you going to ever stop now?

Without anything else to say, you sighed against her skin: “A long fucking time.”

Ellie hummed, giggling at your delayed answer. The fairy lights on her walls cast the room in a warm glow; with the hazy lights around you, you would almost believe this was a dream if Ellie wasn’t so solid and warm beneath your fingers. You traced the freckles across her chest, connecting constellations you had seen her chart before.

Her voice was so quiet in the small room when she asked, “What do we do now?”

You hummed, feeling sleep winning the war inside you. “We can figure that out tomorrow,” you said, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. Tilting your head, you leaned up just enough to kiss her, warm and deep and breathless, before moving away to meet her eyes. “Just don’t fucking run off again, okay?”

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #lesbian smut #ellie x you #ellie the last of us #ellie williams tlou #tlou smut #tlou 2 x reader #sorry for the novel #hope u enjoyed #smash that like button idk

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unclewaynemunson · 6 months

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Pt2 to this post

'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.

It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.

Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'

'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'

Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.

'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'

'What happened?'

He sighs. 'It's complicated.'

'Wanna tell me about it?'

The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.

But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.

He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.

'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.

Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.

'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'

'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.

Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.

'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.

'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.

'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'

She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'

'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'

She nods. 'Okay.'

For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.

'Is it Eddie?'

Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.

'Wha- what?'

'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'

'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.

Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'

Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'

'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'

'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'

Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'

To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.

'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'

'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'

'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'

'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.

Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)

#look i can and i will exploit the miscommunication trope until yall are sick and tired of it #bc steddie is actually the perfect couple for keeping that trope believable #they're idiots with terrible communication skills it's canon #they WOULD #“can't you just talk to him?” “wait what i can????” IT'S SO THEM OKAY #nancy is the only sane person here i don't make the rules #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #platonic stancy #(i love platonic stancy they mean the world to me)#(i truly didn't mean to trick anyone into reading about them this just kinda. happened. idk)#this is making me wanna write more about their friendship actually they deserve their own fic #stranger things #fruity ficlet

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tender-rosiey · 1 year

Note

Hello. Can I ask imagine (or headcannons, if it would be more convenient for you) for Mori Ogai, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol (separately) and their fem!s/o? Their child is jealous of his mother (s/o) to his father and tries to take all the attention of his mother to himself. Please.

“PAPA GET AWAY FROM MAMA!”

— your child being jealous of dazai, fyodor, chuuya, nikolai and kunikida

a/n: I do hope that this is what you wanted and that you like it <;33

DAZAI OSAMU:

dazai never thought he would be bestowed the blessing or the bliss of having a family, but here he is. he has you wrapped in his arms and he is certain that nothing could feel better than this.

however, it is eerily quiet in this household and osamu guesses it’s because the little devil is asleep, the little devil being his son.

his son looks exactly like you, but my god if the kid doesn’t have the same amount of love dazai has for you then dazai doesn’t know what does he have.

the kid never lets him have his time alone with you and for some reason is genuinely upset whenever you and dazai hug or kiss.

that’s why dazai is making the most out of his time today.

he starts pressing kisses to your shoulder, “it’s been a while, right, belladonna?” your fingers find their way through his hair and dazai smiles instantly, “my pretty wife.”

alas, good things don’t last because the both of your are snapped from your sweet moment by the offended and sob-filled screech of your son.

the kid is balling his eyes out at the scene and starts screaming, “GET AWAY FROM MOMMY!”

dazai’s eyes widen; however, before he responds, you push him away and run to your son to coddle him and calm him down.

dazai pouts but lets it go because his son probably needs the hug.

but, what dazai didn’t expect was that his son would grin and stick his tongue out at his dad.

dazai is flabbergasted, but smiles back.

“she was and is my wife before being your mom,” he whispers and winks pointing at the ring on his finger.

your son frowns and simply huffs, assuming that you’re clueless to what the heck is happening while you’re hugging him.

your, petty, husband also believes that this banter would go unnoticed by you so he sticks his tongue out at his son and his son gasps quietly.

well, they’re both equally stupid cause you obviously know, but oh well.

FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY:

never in a million years did he imagine that the person who would challenge him in everything would be his own daughter, his way too smart for a 7 year old, daughter.

today, she saw him hugging you from the back while you were cooking and decided that it’s enough time with you for him.

“father,” she calls out and he hums in response.

“that’s enough time with mom; get away,” she says calmly and he doesn’t look at her and instead tightens his hold on you and whispers, “milaya, you look breathtaking, today.”

you shake your head with a smile and a small, rare chuckle escapes fyodor.

“father, please distance yourself from mother,” she says one last time, patience running out.

fyodor looks at her, “and if I don’t, dear?”

she blinks up at him then kicks him in the shins. he staggers, surprising both himself and you. he looks at his daughter with a frown, “how courageous of you, my dear daughter.”

“cry me a river; we agreed that we each get one hour with mom!” and there comes out the you in her. she smiles the moment you pat her head, signaling for her to go wait for you at the couch.

she bolts there and leaves you and your husband to be. fyodor finally stands up and looks at you with a barely visible pout that has increased in appearances since you gave birth to your dear daughter, “y/n.”

“yes, fedya?”

“our daughter kicked me in the shins.”

you raise an eyebrow, “and you didn’t guess she would?”

“of course, I did,” he looks at her, and somehow your husband who often is known for his intelligence seems like some jealous baby, “but I thought she wouldn’t do it in front of you, at least.”

“well, I didn’t see anything,” you sing and he smirks lightly.

“teaming up on me, are you?”

you shrug, “how can I ever?”

“what a cruel wife you are,” he mumbles right beside your ear and you merely roll your eyes.

NAKAHARA CHUUYA:

sometimes, you feel like you’re a rope being tugged between your son and husband. they are both equally possessive and both have quite the tempers and you have to act like the peace keeper most of the time.

today was no different; however, you have decided to simply watch from the sidelines this time.

“dad! I am gonna marry mom! don’t fight me about it!” your son says confidently.

your husband feels a vein pop, “you little— you can’t marry her! she’s already married to me!”

“no she isn’t!”

“yes she is!”

“what’s your proof?” your son says with a smirk that he definitely inherited from his father, but who’s counting.

your husband narrows his eyes at him and huffs and goes to your shared bedroom. your son giggles and runs towards you, “finally! mom, can I have a hug please?”

you open your arms and your son wastes no time jumping into your embrace making you smile and pat his back. you’re kind of surprised that chuuya didn’t fight back as hard today; maybe you guessed today’s outcome wrong—

you’re quickly proven to have indeed guessed it right as your chuuya appears in all his glory holding your wedding photo, the marriage certificate, and proudly showing off his ring.

your son’s eyes widen, “what is this?”

“the proof that me and y/n are married,” he replied smugly and you sigh.

“w-well, she doesn’t have the same ring as yours!” your son stammers and your husband simply smirks and points at your left hand.

you’ve never heard your son screech so loudly in all his 6 years of living as his eyes lay on your ring.

he jumps away from you, clutching his heart, “mom, what is the meaning of this?!”

“of what exactly?”

“YOU’RE MARRIED TO DAD??” he gasps and you chuckle lightly because if you were to roll your eyes then this house will be turned into ruins.

“honey, I had to marry dad so we can have you,” you smile and chuuya looks as offended as your son.

“HAD TO??”

you side-eye him and he quickly zips his mouth shut and looks away but not without grumbling a couple of curses.

“but that means that I can’t marry you cause you’re already married,” your son says defeatedly as he sits on the floor.

“EXACTLY SO LET US BE!” your husband shouts confidently.

tears well up in your son’s eyes and he bursts into a wail that has your house flooding in a couple of seconds.

you simply look at chuuya, “way to go my dear husband.”

KUNIKIDA DOPPO:

most of the time, your daughter was a daddy’s girl. she always listens to him and a grin is automatically plastered on her face once she sees him.

you can never blame her though cause you have the same reaction whenever you see your lovely husband.

your daughter turned out to be an exact copy of you and both of you share the insane amount of love you have for kunikida.

but there are times where your daughter just wants time with her mama not her dad.

for example, today, you and kunikida were cuddling in the bed, slowly drifting off to sleep. his arms are wrapped around you as he strokes your hair and you feel him press a kiss to your forehead making you nuzzle into his chest.

you feel him smile and you close your eyes to welcome sleep, but you hear a couple of knocks on the door.

your husband sighs softly before sitting up and putting his glasses on, “come in, d/n.”

she slowly opens the door and peaks in, “sorry pa.”

he adjusts his glasses and shakes his head with a smile, “it’s okay; did you have a nightmare?”

she nods softly and perks up at her dad patting the bed. she walks to you two and climbs up the bed, which is quite the travail for her.

most of the time, when she has a nightmare, she squeezes herself between you both to have ‘best of both worlds’ as you say.

so kunikida expects her to sleep between you both like usual, but instead she pushes him away, albeit gently, and sleeps right next you —where he once was— and cuddles close to you.

you pat her head and pull her closer with a smile.

you look up at your husband who had his spot taken from him and giggle at the sight of his small pout.

kunikida watches you guys cuddle and then decides to just lay back down and simply wrap his arms around both of you at the same time. he didn’t train all of that time for nothing.

your daughter whines jokingly, “paaa, I want to be with mom.”

he raises an eyebrow, “is that so?”

she nods and starts squealing and laughing when her father squeezes you guys in a tight hug. both your laughters fill the room and kunikida smiles before saying, “do you not want papa anymore?”

“no no! I want you; please mercy!” she pleads making both you and kunikida chuckle before he finally relaxes his hold and kisses both your and her cheek and the three of you finally succumb to sleep.

NIKOLAI GOGOL:

“quiz time! guess who had his share of y/n today?”

you deadpan, “kolya, I am not a pie.”

“well, you’re certainly as sweet as one,” your husband grins, but both you and your son just gag at the terrible pick up line.

you’ve long got used to his theatrics, after all. your son, though, calls bs on everything his dad does.

“not me,” your son replied with a grin and holds you tighter, sticking his tongue out at nikolai.

“AHAHA! you’re as funny as me, s/n,” nikolai cackles, and you’re sure he is keen on throwing your son off of you any time now.

“but dad, I can’t be funny as you,” your son says dejectedly and nikolai’s eyebrow rises.

“why is that?”

your son smiles, a closed eye smile, before replying, “you’re not funny at all; that’s an insult to me.”

nikolai doesn’t say anything as he pulls your screaming son off you, after quite the struggle.

he walks to the garden and throws him there, “go play with a frog or something; I will have y/n all to myself for the rest of the day. thank you!”

your husband smiles victoriously and is about to throw himself into your embrace until his son reappears right beside you and the boy has a frown that only means one thing.

chaos is about to ensue.

your son starts throwing a tantrum and yelling, “I WANT TO CUDDLE MOM!!”

“no can do, young man,” your husband says shaking his head, “you already got your fair share of mama per the agreement.”

“what agreement?” your son asks, tears still streaming down his face.

your husband puts his hand in his coat and gets out a contract.

the contract reads that your son will only have 2 hours of your attention and time while your husband gets the rest.

“b-but these types of papers need to have signatures of both sides!”

your husband giggles, “your signature is right here, my dear son.”

your son gasps but quickly composed himself.

“oh whatever shall you do now? I rightfully deserve all of y/n’s time—AHHHHH WHAT THE HELL?!”

you come back —after leaving to get yourself a cup of coffee cause this is way too much for you— and find that your son has effectively set the contract on fire.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @aeanya @sweetcloudssimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @waosobii

do not copy or plagiarize or i will cough in your face

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wineauntie · 1 month

Text

THE LITTLE THINGS WITH BOYFRIEND!LUKE HUGHES

( luke hughes x fem!reader ) masterlist

note: this was written in 20 minutes and I love it <33

warnings: none, just Luke being soft!

BOYFRIEND!LUKE loves to make you tea in the morning when he comes home from morning skate. He knows you’re not an early riser when you don’t have work to go to, so he also knows that when he’s back from morning skate, you’ll still be curled up in bed asleep.

He will sit on the edge of the bed, gently caressing your mussed hair out of your face, as he tries to coax you awake. He keeps his voice low and steady, watching as you stir awake. He loves to watch you slowly blink and smile upon seeing Luke sitting, waiting with a cup of tea in hand for you. He’ll watch as you sit up and take the cup from him with a sleepy grin.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who will insist on kissing you despite your protests of morning breath. He will lean forward and peck your lips, with his own teasing smile across his face as he does so. He will then sit and talk to you, telling you all about his morning skate, allowing you to sip your tea and listen.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who fills up your favourite water bottle for you whenever he sees it close to being finished. You’ll be lying side by side with him on the couch, both of you relaxing when he notices its emptiness and scoops it out of your hands. He’ll practically run to the kitchen to fill it up before returning it to your hands and returning to the warmth of your side.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who sits on the bathroom counter and watches you doing your makeup. He’ll just be mesmerised by whatever you’re doing, his mouth slightly agape as he listens to you talking or singing along to whatever songs you’re listening to. Every now and again, he’ll ask you a question about what you’re doing and you’ll explain as he just stares as if you’ve hung the stars in the sky.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who will sit through your favourite reality TV shows despite “having a hatred towards them”. He will sit beside you, leaning back into the couch, his arm draped across the back, his fingers brushing your neck as he watches. Luke will say he’s not invested but give him one episode and he’s hooked on the drama.

“So, sunglasses girl hates Hawaiian shirt man because he cheated on her with the pink-haired girl?”

You’d laugh at his passion, knowing damn well that he lowkey likes the show.

“Yes! And the girl with the sunglasses knows and has known for a while so she slept with Hawaiian shirt's Dad!”

Luke would try to be subtle with his liking for the show, so much so that he’d groan and moan at the prospect of having to watch another episode.

“Another one? Oh baby, please not another one…fine, I guess I’ll suffer through another.”

BOYFRIEND!LUKE who loves to go on nighttime drives with you. He’d play some soft country music as the two of you bask in the quiet of the night. He’d drive with one hand on your thigh, his thumb caressing the skin there, as he’d quietly hum the lyrics to the song.

Luke loves his early nights but he is more than willing to sacrifice them for that time with you in his car. The two of you will idly talk back and forth, or simply coexist in a comfortable silence. Sometimes Luke will park up and he’ll pull you into his lap so that the two of you can talk and cuddle in the peace.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who insists that every time he goes for a pre-game nap, you join him. Claiming that you help him sleep better.

When Luke sleeps, he holds you practically on top of him, with your head nestled between his neck and shoulder. His arms completely engulf you, holding you as tight as possible. If you ever wake up before him and try to move away, Luke will simply not let go, pulling you closer to his body with a tired whine.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who indulges your monthly obsessions. You find yourself loving diy? Luke will drive you to every craft/hardware store nearby for you to stock up. You go through a phase of flying through books? Every day, Luke comes home with books he saw on your to-be-read list. You find yourself enraptured by a musician’s work? Luke is scouring the internet for vinyls, concert tickets and merchandise to surprise you with.

He just wants you to be happy and he loves to spoil you, it’s a win-win situation.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who buys you a memento from every city he goes to on a roadie. The memento is usually pretty ugly or ridiculous and ends up being a gag gift for you. You adore them, treasuring them all with your favourites being a “good girls go to heaven, bad girls go to Vegas” shot glass and a bright, pink T-shirt that stated “Texas SUV” with a cartoon longhorn cow.

No matter what, you and Luke always end up giggling over the crap presents and there’s a box in your wardrobe where you store them all for the memories.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who wears your initial on a chain around his neck. He doesn’t take it off, even tucking it deep beneath his jersey for games. Sometimes when the camera lingers on him, it’ll capture Luke fiddling with the chain, grasping it. He likes to have a piece of you wherever he goes, and he doesn’t care how many chirps he gets for it.

He couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot when you’d bought a necklace with his initials, wearing it every day, for him.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who has, on one or more occasions, introduced you as Mrs. Hughes or “the wife”. You’d turn up to a restaurant for a reservation for “Mr and Mrs Hughes”, that Luke made for your date night, or when Luke is out with friends, he’ll catch sight of you on his lock screen and get the urge to go home.

“Hey, I’m calling it a night…the wife is at home waiting.”

It got so bad that all of his teammates, call you Mrs little Hughes. Even Jack teasingly calls you his sister-in-law and has often referenced you and Luke’s future.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who will never leave your side if you’re out in public with him. His hand is always around your waist, or holding your hand. If you’re walking through the city, he walks on the outside of the footpath, with you pressed to his side, his eyes vigilantly scanning anything that could even potentially pose any harm to you.

If you’re at a charity event with Luke, his eyes will never leave you for longer than five seconds. He likes having you close and knowing you’re okay and you act disgruntled but you secretly love how much he cares for you.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who loves you so much that he can’t fathom a life without you. Luke, who adores you and trusts you with his life, knowing that you make his life worth living.

#wineauntie #new jersey devils #nhl x reader #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes imagine #Luke hughes

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bvidzsoo · 3 months

Text

Sweeter than honey

🧸Husband!Yunho🧸

TW: none, just so much fluff I'm dead

Word count: 1, 3k

A/N:....guys, it's Pisces season and I'm going crazy, don't mind me if I pump out little blurbs this whole month (someone save me). So, this is a little bullet point like scenario, I hope you enjoy it! (I got inspired in THE MOST randomest way this time, it's embarrassing.) I hope you enjoy and feedback is very much appreciated! Enjoy now!

where do I even begin...

there was not one boring day with your husband, Yunho, and your little girl

those two were like little rascals when nobody was watching them

and yes, you loved both to death, but there were times when they got to you

their energy levels were unmatched, and at times you don't know whether you should cry or laugh that your little one takes after her father

a miniature copy of Yunho

the same smile, same happy and playful aura, same mischievous look on her face when she's up to no good, and same devastating puppy eyes when she wants something

you blame partially Yunho for teaching her how to manipulate those around her, mainly you, but you also know that even if it weren't for Yunho, you'd give in to your sweet daughter, unable to say no to her adorable face

and there were times when it was a blessing that Yunho had more free time than you as he was able to stay at home and watch your little one, entertaining her, and tiring her out by the time you got home

she'd be peacefully sleeping in her little bed, thumb in her mouth and cheeks lightly flushed as the blanket was up to her chin, so you'd pull it slightly down and make a mental note to tell Yunho that your daughter wouldn't freeze in the middle of summer

but all thoughts would fly out the window when you'd enter the kitchen, feet aching from wearing high heels all day, only to find your husband, Yunho, wearing his printed pajamas, socks mismatched, and apron tied tightly around his built form as he was humming a song while he cooked diligently dinner

you could only grin and bite your lip to stop yourself from bursting out laughing as in the middle of flipping the pancake Yunho would bust out dancing, rocking his hips left and right as he banged his head to the music only he could hear in his mind

it was an endearing sight, but way too amusing for your tired brain as you'd lean against the middle counter, placing your chin in your palm while watching him, wondering when he'd finally sense your presence

but Yunho would be too focused on cooking those pancakes, with a few already burnt, to feel your amused eyes on his back, and his humming would break out into a quiet singing, trying to keep quiet in order to not wake your little sunshine

and so, in order to not disturb your husband, you'd stand there quietly, just watching him and quietly snickering to yourself when his voice would crack, but he'd continue on like nothing happened, holding the spatula up to his mouth and belting out those high notes as silently as he could

but then finally he would turn around and almost screech at the sight of you, eyes bulged and spatula clutched to his chest as his heart would race from the fright you had just given him, making you burst out laughing

if what you had witnessed so far wasn't funny enough, the damn unnaturally red cheeks and suspiciously purple lips definitely tipped you off, belly hurting from laughing so hard at the sight of your husband

it seems like your little girl had a make-up session with Yunho, showcasing her skills well as your husband looked ridiculous with the make-up on, lips forming a pout when you wouldn't stop laughing at him

"hey, stop it!", he'd say, making you cover your mouth with your hands, "this masterpiece was done by our little sunshine and I didn't take it off, because she insisted I show it to you."

and so, you would finally settle down and shake your head at your husband as you'd walk around the counter and up to him, circle your arms around his shoulders as you leaned into him

he'd smell like home, sweet like vanilla with a tinge of pine, and of course, the pancake dough he'd made not long ago

and your heart would flutter despite being with this dork for almost ten years now

things never got boring with him, you never got used to the thought of having married your best friend and love of life, your three years old daughter a treasure you both cherished dearly

Yunho would smile at you fondly, his teeth showing due to his wide grin, slightly protruding at the front, making you lean up on your tippy toes to press a soft kiss against his purple lips

they would taste like grape, hence the lipstick your daughter very obviously borrowed from your vanity, and Yunho would wrap his arms around your middle as he playfully would lift you off of your feet while pressing his lips just a little harder against yours

"how was work?", he'd ask as he'd place you down again and then you would stay hugging, telling him about your day, until the burnt smell of the pancake he was making would catch your attention and send the both of you into a frenzy to quickly take it off the stove before the fire alarm could blare through your house and wake up your little girl

Yunho would giggle and blame you for the incident, making you shake your head as you'd make to leave for you bedroom to change into something more comfortable after having checked the time

because you were expecting Hongjoong and his fiancé to come over not even in half an hour

and almost as if your daughter sensed this, she'd wake up from her nap, full of energy despite her being supposed to sleep through the evening until the morning

but she loved her aunt too much to miss seeing her

and once the pancakes were done and Hongjoong and his fiancé had come over, you'd gather in the living room and enjoy the delicacy Yunho had made for you, listening to your daughter blabber on about to her aunt and Hongjoong about the little boy she met at the park earlier today

after that you'd gather the table, with the help of Hongjoong, the two of you would settle into a small conversation about work and Hongjoong's upcoming fashion collection, when you'd suddenly hear loud cheers coming from the living room

curious, you two would walk to the threshold and watch as Yunho and your best friend were bundled up together in front of Yunho's gamer set up, with your daughter in the middle, of course, staring up at the two adults in wonder and awe

you'd shake your head as Hongjoong would chuckle, amused at the sight

of course, your best friend and Yunho had gotten on well from the very first meeting, both gamers and sharing many hobbies

it was a given that they would exclude you from the conversation at some point, making you shake your head at them as you knew almost nothing about computer games

"hey, Yuyu, it's too late for her to be sitting in front of the computer", you'd try to pull your husband and daughter away from the gadget, but fail as your best friend would look at you with a grin and puppy eyes at the same time

"ten minutes, I want to show Yunho something, and then I promise we'll join you and Hongjoong", of course, it was always ten minutes turned into two hours

so, with a sigh, Hongjoong and you would return to the kitchen to grab a bottle of red wine and two tall glasses, chuckling to yourselves as you'd hear Yunho and your best friend yell out in excitement or disappointment, your little one following in tow as she'd imitate the two adults

it was amusing hearing them

and once settled across from each other at the middle counter, Hongjoong and you would go over the wedding plans he and your best friend had, the date coming closer and closer as days went by

the wine and the conversation with Hongjoong helped you relax, hearing your husband, daughter, and best friend from the living room made you feel content and happy with the way your life had turned out to be

and you knew you were lucky to have such a loving, sweet, and hilarious husband like Yunho

and a small little replica of his, a daughter that never failed to make you smile and laugh until your belly hurt

you were surrounded by your loved ones, and nothing could've made you happier in that exact moment

Masterlist

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xreaderanonaccount · 5 months

Note

hello hello I have a genshin request!! genshin men Xiao, Neuvillette, Alhaitham, Wriothesley, (sperate) x y/n??

It's nothing special but hearing y/n sing for the first time?? She's very quiet and closed about her life but they go looking for them and hear them singing!!

(also shes singing Doria mermaid song!! I would suggest searching that up and listening to it first!! Have fun!!)

-🦇🎀

Characters: Xiao, Neuvillette, Alhaitham, & Wriothesley

Xiao was exhausted, dragging his feet back to the Wangshu inn; the day has been tiring on his body. He was finally spotted at Wangshu Inn from a distance. Which is enough distance to where he could teleport back without being noticed. Landing softly on the roof so as to not wake any of the guests staying in the inn. He rolled his shoulders, tired of all the work he did today. He needs to finish up so he can get to you.

Xiao glanced around the balcony making sure no one was around, as he finished his patrol he paused when he spotted someone leaning over the railing. On closer inspection he realized it was you leaning over the railing. Xiao was about to call out your name but paused when he heard your soft singing. He had never heard you sing before. Although you mentioned it once you never actually sang for him once. So hearing your voice gave him pause. He quietly kneeled down, trying to not distract you from your singing. A soft smile plastered on his face as he listened, your singing ease all the pain and worry that Xiao had. He gave a deep sigh letting the weight lift off his shoulder. Slipping down the roof with a soft thud he slowly approaches you. He stopped a couple of feet away from you, worried that his karmic debt might affect you in any way.

“You… have a nice singing voice.” Xiao finally spoke up, scaring your poor soul as you whipped around. Your face started to redden a bit as you shuffled around a bit.

“Thanks… oh your back early!” You smiled as you approached Xiao, he took a couple steps back putting his hands up. You looked up at him in confusion, but your gaze softened when seeing Xiao's mixed reaction.

“I… was working a lot and have karmic debt. I- don’t want you to be affected.” Xiao said, you gave a soft smile as you shook your head. You still approached him even after his protest and gave him a tight hug.

“I’m just happy to have you home.” You smiled into his chest, Xiao hesitantly wrapped his arms around you resting his head on top of yours.

“Will you sing that song again?” Xiao asked, pulling you a little closer to his chest.

“That child song? It’s… embarrassing.” You muttered burying your face into his chest.

“But I liked it. So could you sing it, just for me?”

After a tiring day in the court Neuvillette is just happy to be going home. The welcome sight of his home gave him so much relief. A small smile formed on his face as he walked through the door. As he entered the foyer he called out your name. But he heard no response.

“Mon cœur?” His voice echoed in the quiet home. Curious, he walked through the hallways looking at the living room. Nothing, not even on the plush couch where you like to read. He headed to your shared bedroom, still nothing. Curious, the only place he could only think of is the drawing room. You don’t tend to frequent the drawing room, normally Furina is there and her extravagant personality makes you nervous. Approaching the drawing room he paused for a second. He could hear singing coming from the drawing room. Strange, he didn’t invite a singer over? Slowly approaching the drawing room he spots the doors slightly ajar. The singing became louder and louder as he approached. Peaking through the cracked doors he spots you sitting on the plush royal blue couch singing a soft lullaby. He quietly slips into the drawing room having one of the softest smiles Neuvillette can muster.

“What a wonderful song Mon cœur” You yelped in shock, startled by Neuvillette’s sudden appearance. Neuvillette smiled as he leaned in capturing your lips, soft and tender as he smiled in the kiss.

“Hard day?” You softly asked scooting over for Neuvillette to sit down next to you. Neuvillette sighed as he rested on the blue plush couch. Almost all his stress evaporates just to be in your presence. But there was still some lingering stress on his shoulder, and you can clearly tell. You smiled as you tried to run your hand through Neuvillette’s hair but stopped when he glanced at you.

“S-sorry, I… was just trying to help.” Your voice immediately dies down at the very end of the sentence.

“It’s fine Mon cœur, help me in any way you can.” He smiled as he watched you guide his head toward your lap. Now it was a little awkward at first but it soon disappeared when you started to comb your hand through his hair. As you comb through his hair Neuvillette had one simple request,

“May you sing that song you were just singing?”

“You… heard that?” You pause your movements, your face pales a bit before Neuvillette reaches up cupping your face.

“You have a wonderful voice Mon cœur. I would be honored to hear it again.” The words made your face flush as you embarrassingly started singing. Neuvillette closed his eyes, a soft smile formed on his face as he hummed along to the song you were singing. Neuvillette felt his tense body fully relax with your touch and voice. This is nice, he does hope you two do this more.

Alhaitham was having an idle stroll around the Grand Bazaar, work was becoming a little too overwhelming for him so he decided some fresh air would help. The Grand Bazaar was buzzing with life, the smell of various spices, children laughing and playing with each other, and the music that filled the underground bazaar. Alhaitham found this peaceful, this is what he fought for, the Akademiya would not harm these people ever again. Not when he’s the acting grand scholar for now. After strolling around he decided to head back to the Akademiya to finish some paperwork before heading home. As he was about to leave he paused when he heard soft singing. That voice sounded familiar… walking towards the stage he slowly approached the steps. The voice getting louder and louder, climbing up the steps he could spot Nilou who was there smiling clapping her hand in a rhythmic pattern. But who he saw singing made him pause. There you are singing a little children song clapping along with Nilou while a group of children play around you guys. The giggles and laughs of all of you made Alhaitham smile a bit. He had never heard your singing voice before, but if that was the last thing heard in life he would be happy. Alhaitham leaned against the wall watching you sing your heart out, the kids joining in mid-song.

“Auntie, Auntie come dance!” One of the children beamed pulling you up.

“Me? Oh no I can’t dance.” You exclaimed, but alas your protest fell on deaf ears as the children started to twirl you around. Spinning in a little circle the kids and Nilou continued the song, coming to the climax of the song the children all spin you around. You spun a bit before losing balance, but before you could fall to the ground Alhaitham decided to make his presence known and catch you before you fell.

“Al-Alhaitham!” You exclaimed, immediately trying to jump out his arms but you were caged in his strong arms.

“Alhaitham, it’s nice to see you again!” Nilou smiled, “Children this is Alhaitham the current Acting Grand Sage of the Akademiya.”

“Wow ,my dad talks all about you!” One kid chimes, “Mine too!”

“Your reputation precedes you Alhaitham.” You tried to joke but your flushed face revealed your true feelings.

“Hmph, I’m just doing my job.” Alhaitham mumbled letting you go. You picked up all your stuff before waving goodbye to Nilou and the Children. You followed Alhaitham as you two exited the Bazaar.

“You didn’t have to leave them for me,” Alhaitham stated, intertwining your hands together.

“Hmm, well I’m a little embarrassed about everything. So I’m gonna go home to decompress.” You mumbled hiding your face behind his flowing cape.

“Embarrass, why would you be? You have a beautiful singing voice.” Alhaitham questioned, clearly teasing you.

“I… well…” You tried to protest but every thought and argument you had died down immediately. Alhaitham suddenly stopped his movements turning to you. You kept your gaze to the ground trying your best to not make eye contact. Alhaitham gently tilt your chin up making you make eye contact with him.

“In my opinion I believe you have a wonderful voice.”

He had heard whispers around the Fortress of Meropide about your singing. Yet in the whole time you two were dating he had never heard you sing. Sigewinne stated that you had the voice of an angel, others said a voice of Siren. He had yearned to hear you sing but everytime he brought it up you suddenly went red and got really embarrassed about it. You tend to avoid questions like these. So he swore one day, just one day he’ll hear that beautiful singing that everyone kept talking about.

One faithful day he was walking around the Fortress trying to find Sigewinne, but couldn't find her anywhere. Confused he asked around but it seemed that no one knew either. Sighing he ran his hand through his hair as he walked around the fortress. His heavy steps echoing around the quiet fortress. He suddenly paused when he spotted you walking around, hoping that you knew something on Sigewinne whereabouts he started to follow you. But being as quiet as possible. Because one time when he caught up to you he scared the living crap out of you with his booming steps. He lightened his steps as he caught up to you, he was going to call your name before he paused .You were humming something, he doesn’t know what but it was charming. It seemed that you didn’t notice him yet as you started to break out into song. It was a Fontaine folk song that he had heard before. Wriothesley paused as he listened to your singing. Everyone was right, you did have a voice of an angel. A voice of a siren, luring him into a trap. He couldn’t help but smile as he leaned against the nearest metal beam. He enjoyed your little performance as you twirl your arms around finishing the song with a little giggle. He couldn’t help but clap at this beautiful performance. You yelped in surprise as you whipped around making eye contact with Wriothesley.

“Wriothesley?” You yelped as you tried to hide behind a metal beam, but was quickly pulled away by his strong forearm, engulfing you in a soft hug.

“You have a beautiful singing voice, ya know?” He chuckled as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. You tried to hide your face in his arms, clearly embarrassed. You felt his chest rumble as he pulled you away, gently cupping your face making him look at you.

“You don’t ever have to hide yourself from me, I’m always here for you.” Wriothesley smiled ruffling your hair a bit.

“I know that…” You frowned, crossing your arm facing away from him.

“It’s… just embarrassing.” You muttered, Wriothesley laughed as he slink his arm around your waist pulling you down the hallway.

“Well I think it’s lovely, now come help me find Sigewinne. I can’t seem to find her.”

A/N: divider credits: cafekitsune

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #wriothesley x reader #neuvilette x reader #alhaitham x reader

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gretavanlace · 2 months

Text

Hush

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only Minors do not interact

Warnings: graphic sexual content, dirty talk, choking, light degradation, praise, slight dom/sub/switch dynamic, language, etc

Josh is vocal.

That is certainly no secret.

Anyone who has watched him strut about a stage, microphone in hand, knows that.

Off stage, he talks incessantly about both the things that matter to him, and the mundane. Things he is passionate about. Things that light fires within him and drive him to create and pack this world as full of his heart as he possibly can. Arbitrary ideas and notions. Strange ponderings.

Pontification, he likes to call it.

He’s also vocally boisterous when agitated. He loathes waiting, and will mutter complaints near your ear in line until you’re willing your eyes not to roll. A phone call to vent about the antics of one brother or another from the studio is a regular occurrence and can be counted on just like death and taxes.

“Samuel was even later than I was,” he might huff, “and now Jake’s guitar needs to be restrung because fuck this whole world if he has to use a backup. I hate them, and I want to come home to you, light of my life, keeper of the stars, goddess of all that is— oh, we’re ready…gotta go.”

Josh murmurs in his sleep, sings in the shower, talks himself through menial tasks, hums in the grocery store, carries on one-sided conversations with the cat who simply chirps along while swirling around his ankles.

At least twice a night he snatches you from drifting off to sleep with a question: Do you think I should call my mom more? If I miss her, she must miss me. Or, Did I ever tell you about that time that Jake ate shit and fell in the lake? I was thinking about it today, and…

Random thoughts and idle musings he can’t help but verbalize, you hear them all. Mostly. The ones you aren’t privy to, fall upon the nearest ear - but he’s so fucking charming even a stranger is happy to play sounding board.

Josh is also expressive when you’re wrapped up in soft, linen sheets…or wherever else he’s decided he can no longer wait to have you.

Whispers of devotion swelling like a gentle breeze across the hum of your pulse when he makes love to you. Filthy, dirty, blush-inducing declarations when he’s fucking into your trembling body like he’ll never touch it again.

And you love it…all of it. But now - with your visiting sister slumbering in the guest room on the other side of the wall - is certainly not the time.

“Baby, please…” his mouth is sucking gently along your collarbone as he grinds into you slowly, friction hard and constant against your greedy, swollen clit, “let me fuck you faster…c’mon, I need it.”

”What you need, is to be quiet,” your voice is a stern whisper, but your hands are tender in his hair.

He could easily set a pace as brutal as he desired if he felt inclined to disobey…but, ever the sweetest switch, he has opted to play nice tonight.

”I’ll be quiet,” he promises. It is a lie he truly believes, and to prove that point, you clench around him and draw forth a pitiful groan from deep within his chest.

A swift pinch at his side serves as punishment ”Shut. Up.”

”Fuck you,” he sounds deliciously desperate, “You did that on purpose. Squeezing me with that beautiful pussy…goddamn.”

”What’s going to happen if I let you make me cum? Hmm?” Your mouth falls into a delicate pout as if you just feel so sorry for him, “You know how tight I get. How I just hug your cock all snug and wet…”

”And warm,” he adds, lost in it, daydreaming in the dark of night and twitching inside the embrace of your cunt, “Soft as satin, sucking me right in…oh my god, baby, please.”

He begins moving with more purpose, dragging the head of his cock against that lovely little spot that will render you incoherent if you allow it to.

”Oh my god, please,” you mock quietly, “Look at you Joshua, what a whiny baby. What are you begging for? Pussy? Is that what you need?”

He nods frantically against your sternum, as though he doesn’t trust himself to look up at you.

You feign confusion wickedly “But you’ve got that. You’re already inside me…”

“Faster,” he breathes, biting and mouthing at your shoulder now, “Need it faster, and harder. It’s too slow, I need more.”

Clicking your tongue like he is a poor, pathetic sight to behold, you shake your head, “Slow down.”

”No, please don’t make me,” he slows, as instructed, but trails off with a whimper.

So, maybe there’s no ‘like’ about it, maybe he really is a poor, pathetic sight to behold. Yes, you decide, that’s exactly what he is…

…so why not push him even further?

With a swift tug on the roots of his curls, you issue an order ”Stay still.”

Despondent and mournful, he groans into the crook of your neck and grabs at your hips so tightly you’ll be admiring raspberry bruises in the mirror come morning. “C’mon, baby girl…lemme take it. I fucking want it.”

If he were looking at you, he’d see the devilish gleam in your eye. Aren’t you an awful witch tonight? “What? Don’t you like it when I keep your pretty cock warm for you?”

He flexes hard inside of you, simply to gain even a hint of friction. “You’re being so fucking mean.”

”Mean?” You coil around the throbbing length of him and he shudders out the tiniest sound, “If I was mean, I’d lock your pretty cock in a cage and fuck your face all night.”

For a moment, he shirks his submissive edge and hisses in your ear, low and slow, “Liar. Not with little sister in the next room…you couldn’t keep quiet with my face between your legs if someone fucking paid you to.”

In response, you shove him back and roll until your thighs are locked around his waist, the crown of his cock nestled against your clit as your hips swivel heated circles.

”Does that feel good, baby?” You’re taunting him cruelly while, in contrast, lovingly reaching up to smooth the furrow from his brow. “Does that just feel so good?”

”Wanna put it back inside,” his eyes squint shut and anyone who didn’t know better might think his expression is that of suffering. “Perfect fucking cunt, so tight, so…”

”Shh,” you quiet him with a hand wrapped around his throat, relishing the way his adam’s apple slides against your palm when he swallows hard, “shut your mouth for once.”

He’s staring up at you, wide-eyed and needy, like you painted the stars in the sky, gorgeous and glittering, just for him…and how you wish that were true. How you wish you could give him something so profound. Something worthy of his light.

”I won’t make a sound,” his vow sounds out, a cross between the honesty he wishes it to be rooted in, and the lie he knows it to be. “C’mon baby, please…fuck me sweet.”

Does he really want it sweet? Or is he simply aware that that’s all he is capable of quietly handling?

Likely the latter.

Your fingers have found your nipples, twisting and tugging on them as they tighten into pink pebbles that send shivers crawling down into your stomach with every pull. His eyes lock in on you, watching you tease them as his breathing kicks up into a frenzy.

“You’re pushing it,” he warns, grip pulling you down closer as he rocks his hips up to meet you. “Keep it up and I’m gonna fucking take it. Be a good girl now, baby…I’m done with your shit.”

”Yeah?” Your eyebrow raises in silent challenge. Does he have it in him tonight?

“Yeah.” He nods, licking his thumb to swirl much too gently across your clit.

”I think you should just behave and be grateful for what you’re—“

Stunned and dazed, the room blurs around you as you’re flipped and tossed until your cheek is pressed against the cool, crisp sheets. They smell of him, and you breathe Josh in until your lungs ache while his cock teases at your entrance from behind.

His body folds over yours until his lips sweep the shell of your ear, “You’ve done it now, baby girl. Better be quiet, yeah? Not a sound.”

With a swift snap of his hips, the silken glide of his cock fills you full as his palm presses against your lips to muffle the high-pitched moan that gasps out of you.

”Now who’s the whiny baby?” his perfect teeth sink into your earlobe and tug until it blooms with heat. The moan that seeps into his soft skin causes his lips to curl into a smirk you can feel. “This is what you wanted, you think I don’t know that?”

He has begun moving at an excruciatingly slow place, the head of his cock dragging gently inside you just right…but you need more.

”You think I didn’t know that you wanted me to just fucking take it all along?”

You nod urgently, tangling your hair against the pillowcase. Of course he knew, he knows you better than you know yourself. There are no secrets to be hidden away when it comes to Joshua. He hunts each and every one down like glittering treasure with ease…your body his map, the pools of your eyes ciphers he decodes without even trying.

His tongue is dancing its way along your jaw now, springing chills to life upon your flushed skin ”Tell me how good my cock feels and I’ll fuck you full.”

Another woeful sound shakes out of you and a rumbling, gravelly laugh huffs warm against your cheek, “My poor, sweet baby can dish it just fine tonight, but she can’t take it? Is that it?”

With a shhh that makes you feel weighed down heavy with lust, he lifts his palm away from your mouth. “I can take it,” you promise in a hush, “Please…I can take it, I swear.”

He is so still inside you, but the familiar stretch is enough to send a tremble tripping up your spine, spider-cracking like a jolt of electric pleasure. “But can you take it quietly? Can you be a real good girl or should I gag you like a whore?”

”I’ll be a good girl,” you breathe, relishing the sound that slips out of him, a cross between famished desire and worshipful devotion.

“Yeah?” He’s enjoying this little game too much to wave goodbye to it just yet, “You’ll be a good girl if I give you this cock?” He presses in so deeply there’s nothing left for him to give, “You’ll take it quietly and squeeze it nice and tight? Soak it with your little wet cunt when I make you cum?”

He can feel you clenching already, twisting around him like a fist, milking him, pulling him in, starved for more.

”Yes, yes, yes,” you chant softly, begging for him to get on with it, “Just fuck me, Josh…please,”

There’s that sinful mouth of his again, ghosting over your ear, “Just fuck me Josh,” he mocks in a velvet whisper, “Please.”

A sob escapes you and turns the apples of your cheeks pink…he echoes the sound back to you and fans the flames of your delectable shame.

”Quiet now, baby…” he reminds you, tone taunting and laced with self-satisfaction, “You just bite down on the pillow if it gets to be too much, and I’ll bite down on you.”

You tighten around him at the mere thought of it and tug an achingly gorgeous grunt from deep within his chest, “You like that? You want me to bite you to keep quiet? Mark you up all pretty?”

”Fuck…” you reach back and grab for him, fingers sinking into the curve of his waist, begging for it with your entire body.

You can’t seem to manage much more, but it’s enough for him, and with a swift pull back, he snaps his hips hard and fast and sets a relentlessly feral pace in motion.

The head of his cock, thick and suede-soft, kisses your cervix with each inward push, driving a wild sound out of you that you smother into the pillow, tongue dragging against the worn cotton as though it were his mouth.

His teeth are peppering your back and shoulders, gnashing his own moans way down deep into your flesh where you will secret them away forever. He gifts each sound to you on a gorgeous, stinging platter and you only want more, more, more. It is never enough with him…you are gluttonous for whatever he sees fit to offer.

”You feel so fucking good, baby,” it comes undulating across your cheekbone like a warm, languorous breeze, “So fucking wet, I can feel you all over me. You’re gonna make me cum.”

He grows impossibly hard within you and that, along with the filth he is sighing into the night and the drags of his teeth, sends you careening over the edge you had no idea you were so close to. You explode around him, and his weight grows heavier atop you as his thrusts lose rhythm.

“That’s it,” his praise is clipped and winded, “just - fuck - just like that. Keep going, so tight, messy pretty fucking pussy, make me cum, baby, please…make me fucking cum.”

He’s babbling like a brook you want to lie beside and listen to for the rest of your life. So beautiful. So Josh. But so quietly, and you know how difficult it must be for him, how hard he must be trying, and you love him all the more for it.

With a final, vicious bite, he coaxes a hiss out of you that makes him see stars as he lets go, fucking himself deeper and deeper as he rides it out, moans pressed into your glazed, shivering body like flowers in between the pages of a book.

And still, you only want more. You want his jaw to lock, his teeth to break the skin, to draw blood, to scar you…soft pink, raised marks tattooed by his kiss to remind you.

A long sigh flutters your hair, and your eyes drift closed at the soothing lilt of the sound as his fingers begin to card through your hair.

”You thirsty, baby?” His nose nuzzles at you, drawing forth a lazy smile that is half smashed into the pillow.

“Yes, but stay a little longer.”

He cuddles down into you, cheek to cheek, the weight of his body keeping you warm and safe in the silence.

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#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #fanfic #greta van fic #greta van smut #gvf fic #josh kiszka #josh kiskza smut #gvf josh #josh kiszka fic #josh kiskza fanfic #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka x reader #josh gvf #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut

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buckysegan · 2 months

Text

how silly of me, to fall in love with you.

Summary: when one of the new pilots around base get's an idea in his head about a certain nurse john egan, is having none of it. john x she. Word Count: 1.1k A/N: i saw a prompt in the tags about john not being willing to give up his jacket. but i think our little possessive bucky would willingly hand it over to lay his claim....i also wrote this in 30 minutes with no edits forgive me. a little prequel look to this pairing.

there was two things about john egan that any one that had been around base for more than five minutes were sure of, the man couldn't sing, and he didn't share her or buck. it was unfair of him and irrational really, to the point that just for just a moment bucky wondered if all of this was moderately cruel of him. despite all the thoughts in his head though, he couldn't help himself.

they weren't at the pub today which meant for a change he didn't have to watch the usual british majors hit on his girl, that was where his usual source of anguish came from because the boys knew that despite the fact bucky liked to advise that the pretty nurse was too good for any of them, especially him, the way his eyes lingered on her was enough of a claim. especially after lil and dye. and john knew, he knew that he was around her just enough that he managed to keep the rest of the boys at bay. that was what was so cruel off him, he wouldn't take her. honestly he didn't think he could because a man like him couldn't taint something so pure.

he just didn't want anyone else having her either.

it seemed that the message that she was his though, hadn't reached a number of the boys that had piled in over the last week and john was pretty sure he was one wrongly placed hand away from loosing it all together.

not even the hand on his thigh and gentle mumblings of his best friend was enough to calm the frazzling of nerves that were building in him. bucky was pretty sure he hadn't smiled in at least an hour, that had to be a record and someone needed to be careful. "she's not looking at them bucky, you don't have a damn thing to worry about." brady offered from across the table where they were all propped, as if each of the men were waiting for their major to blow and ready to pull him back given they'd heard plenty of stories of just how many of them it would take should he decide to loose his temper.

the scraping of bucky's chair had everyone's eyes pulled in his direction, even hers though she had been trying to ignore the way the pilots baby blues had burned into the back of her skull all night whenever she had been asked to dance with one of the boys. she had simply been a welcoming host, every one that knew her knew she was blind to any of the attention that she had received throughout the evening. now she along with the rest of the party was left watching as john stormed in the direction of the door muttering something about being back soon.

barely ten minutes had passed when she felt the heavy fabric droop over her shoulders, the hands on her waist with such boldness confirming just who had appeared despite the fact she had been talking to lieutenant hart. "john..." she trailed, spinning in his grasp as she moved to look up at him, only to realise slowly just how quiet the room had gone. john himself, couldn't bring himself to care at the audience, he had never been shy of a performance and this might have been his best one.

"hi baby." he hummed, fingers cupping at her chin for a second as he looked down at his handy work, the light sheep skin now crowding over her favorite person. "it seemed a little chilly in here, figured that you should be taking care of yourself." he mused quietly and he made no attempts to wipe the smirk that had replaced the glare he had been wearing as he had stormed out of here.

she could feel her cheeks turn an unfortunate shade of red that no amount of powder was going to be able to help her with. this over grown, infuriating man the very cause. at some point in time, when now she couldn't remember, she had fallen immovably in love with john egan. not that he seemed to notice, or if he had, not that he seemed willing to do anything about. she had never questioned why either. she had looked at him plenty, looked at the other nurses following him around base, she knew the options he had which only furthered her confusion at the jacket now slunk around her shoulders.

"no one else is wearing a jacket bucky." she was quick to huff though she had made no move to rid herself of the damn thing, marvelled still at how small this man managed to make her feel. "mhumm, that's the point baby, i'll see you at work tomorrow?" he asked, a side glance at hart telling him that the majors message had been received loud and clear and he knew the message would have been accepted on a wider level too. not everyone had met her, the damn light of his life that wondered around base like his very own sunshine, but everyone knew the distinct jacket that bucky flew in, and now everyone had seen her in it.

backing away to his table john already knew the taunts he would be greeted with but fishing for his glass as he sunk back to his seat, he didn't even bother to hide how proud of himself he was. "jesus john." gale was the first to groan at him, the others soon joining in. "why don't you just piss on her next time, that would be less obvious." brady again, was quick to jab. bucky himself could only offer another shrug of his shoulders as he let his gaze fall to the bar, where he knew she was now watching him from where she was propped. john egan didn't deserve her, he knew that, and neither did anyone else here, he was protecting her, that's all it was.

one day, when her husband came along and she had someone else to love her how she deserved, someone that wasn't a changed man. he would let her go, he'd move on and someone else could keep her safe. just for now the jacket would have to do, it was better than his alternative plan, to grab her, kiss her in the middle of the room and tumble out some sort of confession - how silly of me, to fall in love with you.

#john egan x reader #masters of the air #callum turner #mota #mota drabble #john egan.#also PS #Im not over loosing the jacket so early #someone give callum that jacket to wesr #rn

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towriteloveontheirarms · 8 months

Text

Playtime´s over (Viserys I Targaryen x servant!reader)

synopsis: King Viserys calls you into his chambers for a favor.

warnings: DUB CON (power imbalance), age gap, very little plot, smut, oral (m recieving), p in v sex, unprotected sex

word count: 1.4k

A/N: This is technically my first smut in a while so please be nice. Also this can be read as a stand alone or as a prologue to my mini-series I could protect you

You are sitting on a blanket with Aemond, a book on one thigh and the six year old Prince on the other. Enjoying the warmth of the late summer sun high in the sky from within the gardens, as you read the Prince a story of old Valyria. It was his favorite place in the entire keep, he had frequently told you, to which you let out a chuckle. Alicent had just recently scolded you for reading those cruel stories to a six year old, but Aemond would not stop pouting and huffing until he saw you pull out the book he wanted. In all fairness you think she is just overprotective of him. It is magnificent how such a ´well-behaved´ child could be so insistent and headstrong at the same time. You shake the thought with a smile. Even in his young age it is clear that Aemond has not many friends as it seems and you are happy to lend him some company whenever he asks. He is such a smart and kind child. You often feel sorry that he and his siblings each seem to share a deep interest with their father, yet the man could not be more uninterest in them. Your voice is quiet as to not interrupt the peace around the two of you, barely heard over the singing birds in the trees and bushes around as a maid approaches you. Interrupting you mid-sentence.

“My apologies, Aemond. It seems like playtime is over for now.” You set the boy down so you can stand up.

“The king demands to see you.” The woman simply says. Her eyes are trained on you with a look of pity in them.

You thank her with a nod. Immediately you can feel the perspiration on your palms and close your eyes to take a deep breath, in the hopes it would make the wish to chew down your fingernails again.

“Are you in trouble?” You hear Aemonds calm but concerned voice behind you. He looked so serious for a child.

“No, of course not. What would possibly make you think that, little dragon?” You put on a smile for the boy again. He doesn´t need to see the nervousness in you at what comes next.

“Whenever my siblings or I talk to my father we get yelled at.” The statement makes you click your tongue in disapproval of the treatment these children experienced.

“Don´t worry, Aemond. I have to leave now, but if you wish to, we can continue our reading in the evening. Hm?” you pick up your tone in the hopes to cheer the young Prince up again. Even if only a bit.

“I would like that.” He gives you a smile back.

“Perfect. I will see you later then.” You make your way towards the Maegor´s holdfast as quickly as possible, without running. Wondering what it would be that he would ask of you today.

Knocking quietly on the King´s chamber doors quietly you get called in in a matter of seconds. Viserys is sitting by his model, giving you some hope that today he had called you for something more innocent. You could not have been more wrong. Unknowing what his intentions for this meeting are, you stand by the closed door, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. You are sure you are not much older than the current queen, when rumors of her visits made their rounds through the castle´s staff.

“Your majesty called for me?” You bow your head in greeting.

“Yes. Come here.” The instruction comes in a calm tone and he doesn´t look up from his model.

“As you wish, your grace.” You go to kneel between his legs without any more words.

His leg muscles tense instantly under your touch as you let your hands rub over his thighs. Every stroke getting them closer to the hardness underneath the soft material of the clothing. Once your fingertips feel his manhood twitch, they waste no time to open the zipper to free his cock from its confines.

The two of you had done this countless times before. It never really got any easier, but you were always sure to find a present along with your moon tea. So, you start placing gentle kisses across his length, from the stones to the leaking tip. Which you grace with little kitten licks.

Viserys groans above you. One of his hands threading into your hair, tugging on it, at the roots. The action pulls a moan from your lips. You let his hand guide you. Your lips close around his shaft, taking him in as deep as possible without choking, hollowing out your cheeks to earn another groan. Viserys´ hand is not gentle as it guides your head up and down on his cock in a steady rhythm. He never had been. You don´t know why you still think it would change. His length twitches inside of your mouth. So you take him deeper, fastening the speed in which you bob your head up and down. It becomes harder to breath and you can feel your jaw starting to hurt slowly but surely. Then you here that moan and feel him twitch again. The telltale sign he is close to finishing. You pray for your knees that he comes quickly and start to play with his sac with the hand that isn´t wrapped around the base of his length.

Suddenly Viserys tugs at your hair again. Pulling you off him. You raise an eyebrow at him, but stay quiet.

“On the bed.” Comes his breathless instruction.

You follow it suit. Slipping the fine dress he had gifted you not too long ago over your head and rid yourself of your small clothes, before laying on your back in the middle of the mattress. Legs spread for him to see your cunny.

The corners of his parted lips go upwards with a huffed chuckle and you see the dilated pupils of those beautiful Targaryen typical lilac eyes travel downwards. Then with a deep inhale from both of your lungs he buries himself deep inside your tight heat. His breath fans over you face as he begins to move, but the way he ruts into your core is anything but romantic. It´s a cold way of satisfying his own needs without any regard for yours. A way to get rid of any stresses.

You make sure to hold on to his shoulders, gazing deeply into his eyes, that are focused on where he disappears inside of you. Soft and breathy whimpers fall from your mouth. Along with his huffs and hisses they are the only sounds in the room. The pace he sets at first is slow. Almost painfully so, with the lack of preparation, but when your hand finds its way between your legs to rub circles into the bundle of nerves sat atop of your cunt it gets easier. The motion sends sparks of pleasure through your body, the velvety walls fluttering around his cock. As a result Viserys picks up the pace with which he drives into you. The lewd sound of skin slapping on skin grows louder.

I doesn´t take long until you bring yourself to finish. Your walls tighten around him and in time with your shaking legs, you hear that telling groan from above you once more.

“Beg for me. Beg for my seed.” The kings breathless voice rings from over you and of course you oblige instantly.

“Please, my king. Spill yourself inside of me. Please give me your seed.” Your voice is high pitched and you look at him with the most needy look as your eyes meet.

With a few more rolls of his hips and a few more honey voiced pleas from your mouth, his forehead rests against your shoulder. You feel his finish paint your insides white, taking a few more breaths to calm down.

He is quick to pull his softening cock out of you and sit up at the edge of the bed, tugging himself into his pants to make himself presentable again. You do the same. Standing up to put your dress back on, with his seed dribbling down your thigh.

“Your majesty.” You curtsy once more when you are done. Closing the heavy door on your way out. Making your way through the corridors, to clean yourself up, before you returned to your proper tasks around the castle.

#king viserys #king viserys targaryen #viserys i targaryen #viserys targaryen x reader #viserys i targaryen x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fic #house of the dragon oneshot

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orobaxis · 1 year

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i love your ominis fic! it’s so well written. could i request him and #10 from the prompt list?

(so for once in my life) let me get what i want

ominis gaunt x reader (hogwarts legacy)

ominis tells you his plans for the future and adopts a new name

prompt: "please. please just listen to me."

word count: 2253

warnings: hogwarts legacy spoilers! some violence; gaunt family pureblood purity nonsense; seventh-year ominis and gang (sebastian redemption arc); timeskip & a surprise cameo/twist? :O ominis is a very powerful wizard because of his heritage, and he's even more powerful than his family because of his kind heart; occamies can speak parseltongue (source: trust me bro)

when the impossible happened, when it turned out that you also reciprocated his feelings, ominis' world changed.

he always tells you, "we took the long way round, but we're here now." and every time, you would reach for his hand and squeeze. he can almost sense your smile every time.

ominis had been thinking about it. you were it for him, and he hopes you feel the same way. he was tired.

of hiding you.

so ominis made up his mind.

once you both graduate from hogwarts, he would not return to his family. the gaunts aren't his family--not anymore. it was his friends, and you.

"what are you doing outside, sulking here?"

he turns to the sound of your voice and the door opening, and you sit beside him. slowly, you reach for his hand and guide a steaming cup of tea. he mutters a 'thank you' and takes a sip.

you tell him that feldcroft looks nice at this time of the year, so not unlike the time it was ravaged by poachers and ranrok's loyalists. there is laughter in the air, children running around and playing in the snow. carolers singing every night by a bonfire. you always go to the carolers and hand out hot cocoa.

ominis and sebastian would usually sit there, outside the sallow house, listening as you and anne, now good as new, play with the kids, picking snowball fights with the enchanted snowman. you two make them help set up a giant christmas tree for the hamlet. he would fret whenever you climb up the ladder to place ornaments, insisting that using your wand "isn't as accurate". that entire day, while you and anne were busy decorating the tree, ominis would be standing guard by the ladder, making sure that not even the wind can shake it.

he likes it here. it's quiet, and while he enjoys holidays in the castle, being with his family here in feldcroft feels better.

"the kids are scaring the scarecrow again," he tells you with a smile, and you both turn in the direction of the children and the squawking of the poor scarecrow.

anne bursts out the door, smiling when she sees you two. "there you are!" she exclaims. a folded woolen blanket is hanging on her arms, "i knew ominis would be here sulking--"

"i am not sulking--"

"so i got you a blanket to keep you warm. i know y/n wouldn't leave you out here in the cold."

you gratefully take the blanket from her, thanking her before splaying it on yourself and ominis. "have you finished packing?"

"me?" anne points at herself, "of course not! sebastian and i don't pack until you start nagging for us to leave."

"because we need to return to hogwarts by tonight," you remind her.

anne rolls her eyes, waving you off, "we can pack everything quickly, don't worry. you and ominis enjoy the sun while it lasts."

you hum, and watch her enter the house again. turning to ominis, you watch him sip his tea quietly, "you ready?"

"hmm?" he asks behind the rim of the teacup.

"our final term," you sigh, "and then we're done with school."

ominis starts thinking about it again.

"i have to tell you something."

you don't say anything, but wait until he starts talking.

"i've decided...i've decided not to return to my family after graduation."

shocked, you open your mouth to say something, anything. but you know that he has made up his mind about this. "but, they'll start looking for you."

"i know." ominis is quiet for a bit, hands warming up around his cup, as he tries to collect his thoughts. some time ago, he knew that he eventually would have to go into hiding once he decided to leave the family. he just...well, he just needed to tell you about it. "we'll have to lay low for a while."

"we?" you aren't sure if you heard him right. did 'we' mean you and him? you, him, and the twins?

"my family will be looking for us. and if you're with me, i can protect you better."

so that's what he had been sulking about, you think to yourself. ever since you arrived to feldcroft to spend the holidays with the twins, you would always find ominis deep in thought. is this what he was thinking about?

it feels like a death sentence, ominis thinks. you deserve better than going into hiding so soon after graduating. you should be going out there, exploring the world, not being afraid that a family of dark wizards would find you. but he knows his family will not let him go, not with you. and if something happened to you, well, he would never forgive himself.

"i'm sorry," he blurts out. he is frustrated about this, and he knows you must be too. he is sure that you're already processing the fact that you'll be losing months, years of your life trying to hide from his family. he wouldn't blame you if you start despising him now. he would too. "i didn't mean for this to happen."

"wait...ominis," you gently take the cup from his hands to settle it on the ground, "it's alright."

ominis shakes his head, now becoming upset, "no, you don't understand...i don't understand. why aren't you mad at me? you should be!

because of who i am...the darkness in my family is never going to go away, and it will infect you...i'm sorry." ominis hears the crack in his voice and the tears started to flow.

immediately, you kneel into the dirt, cupping his face, "hey, ominis...please. please, just listen to me." you brush your thumbs against his cheeks, wiping his tears, tracing the beauty marks that you love.

"i'll be fine as long as i'm with you," you whisper to him. "i don't care if we have to hide, as long as i have you...everything will be alright."

he sniffs, raising his hands to cup yours resting on his cheeks. he turns and brushes his lips on your palm, "i love you," he tells you, "i would do anything for you, and i will keep you safe, i promise."

"i know, love," you tell him, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks, not from anguish, but from joy. of course you would follow him anywhere. "i love you too, and i will also keep you safe."

ominis says nothing, but nods before leaning forward, resting his head against yours.

let me keep her, please. he thinks. for once in my life, let me get what i want. lord knows it would be the first time.

he should have known that these rogue poachers were also looking for him. they accidentally came across the group, as you four were flying back to the castle. they intercepted you, and you had to land somewhere.

"i don't know if you 'eard," a poacher yells as he and his colleagues start to descend to your location, "but the gaunt family is looking to pay a hefty sum if we could get their son and his friends back to them!"

"all the galleons we could ever want!" exclaimed another, "we'll never have to poach for animals in this blasted forest again."

"ominis," you whisper, reaching frantically for him as he takes a step forward, wand out. sebastian stands beside him. you see anne pull her wand out and you do so anxiously, staring at the poachers and trying to keep yourself calm.

it is quiet for a bit, and then the curses and hexes start flying. incantations hurriedly leaving everyone's lips as you tried your best to see where the enemies are in the thick of the night. you worry for your friends, jumping by anne's side, pulling on her jumper as you conjure a shield for you both. as ominis and sebastian try to hold off a horde of poachers in front of you, you don't notice one disillusioned themselves until there was the tip of a wand pressing against your neck and a ragged, "STOP!" is shouted behind you, almost deafening your ear.

ominis turns to the side at the sound, wand still raised and his brows furrowed when he realizes that one slipped past him.

"let go of her."

"we don't want trouble with you, i know you gaunts are a powerful lot," the poacher who has wrapped his arm around your neck tightens it a little. "i just want missy here, and you to come with us back to mummy and daddy."

he raises his wand, ready to strike the man who has you captive.

"ominis..." you start, before the tip of the wand dig deeper into your neck and you shut yourself up with a whimper. ominis cringes at the sound.

"please--" ominis bares his teeth as he lowers his wand

"drop your wand and walk towards me."

"please just listen to me," ominis implores, but the man didn't want to listen to him.

"any sudden movements and she's gone," he pulls on your hair, "your parents want you alive, but didn't say that for her."

now seething in anger, ominis nods before dropping his wand. this appeases the poacher, who tells him to start walking towards him. then, he hears voices.

voices he haven't heard in some time. are you alright? do you need help?

masking it as a pained hiss, ominis answers, yes, get rid of the poacher. he threatens to hurt the beasts in this forest.

i am not from this forest. nor from this land. these poachers took me.

you're close now, ominis can hear your muffled whimpers. help me with the poacher, and we will help you return home.

in a flash, you are released from the poacher's grip and ominis takes a few strides before reaching you. he holds you close as you gasp at the sight before you: a large, winged serpentine beast grabs the poacher by the shoulders and they disappear.

"what--"

"that was an occamy!" anne shouts, running to your side to embrace you and ominis, "thank goodness you're alright!" sebastian runs to you all, sighing in relief when he sees no one is hurt.

you turn to ominis, still in shock. "you saved me..."

"i promised i would," he tells you.

"but..." you turn back to the sky, where you see the occamy flying closer and closer. ominis says nothing, but waves his wand to materialize his suitcase and open it. the occamy flies into it and it shuts. "the occamy..."

"professor howin or ellie peck will make sure that she gets back to her home."

you nod at him, a smile slowly forming on your face before you rush in and plant a small kiss on his cheek. flushing, you start to walk back to where you dropped your broom, ignoring the teasing grin on anne's face.

"well, that was--"

"if you say one more thing sebastian, i will have the occamy choke you."

years later, anne and sebastian sallow find themselves in front of a tiny cottage by the sea. it has become tradition to spend the holidays here.

here to deliver the news, sebastian, now an auror, is excited to let them know. the gaunts have stopped looking for them.

you greet them at the door, throwing your arms around anne is joy. "happy christmas!" you tell her, "i'm so glad you made it here safely!"

"the only danger we encountered on the way here were the drunkards outside of feldcroft!" anne exclaims with a laugh, moving to take off her coat and hang it as you hug sebastian.

"any news?" you whisper against his ear.

sebastian pulls away from you with a grin, "yes. where is he?"

"in the studio," you nod to the direction of the room, "now off with your coat and let's move to the studio."

he has learned to enjoy it. at first, he huffed when you told him you bought him the wheel, but eventually, he realized how much he loved it. it was calming, and it certainly helped that you also appreciate the finished products he would gift you.

when sebastian tells him that the gaunts finally stopped searching, ominis couldn't really say he's relieved. he was relieved years ago, when he stopped feeling the dark shadow engulfing his being. despite that, he enjoys knowing that they didn't have to hide anymore.

he feels his wife's comforting hand on his shoulder, and he teasingly reaches for it with his own.

"ah, ominis, you're getting me dirty!" you complain, but he only laughs. "i have to go check on the food, and then we can all have dinner."

"how can you even move around with your condition?" sebastian asks, and you huff, rolling your eyes at him before cradling the swollen bump in front of you. "i don't think my child is as big-headed as you seb, that's why i'm still able to move around."

anne and ominis laugh at that. "i'll help," ominis announces, as he gets up from his potter wheel and makes his way towards the kitchen (where you proudly display the many potteries your husband made you).

the twins follow shortly, chortling at how domesticated you both look, especially after adopting a new name. this new name ominis is proud of, because not like the one he is born with, becoming a "potter" is his choice, and with you, he's all the better for it.

i was listening to please please please let me get what i want (idk if thats obvious)

i hope you all like this one ;A;

i popped out so many ominis fics today my thesis is jealous aaaaaaaa

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt imagine #hogwarts #hogwarts imagine #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy imagine #wizarding world #sebastian sallow #anne sallow #harry potter #queue

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