#need to write her. play her. think abt her. again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rrysbabydoll · 17 days ago

Note

hiiiiii so i accidentally read ur last post "stached" as "stretched" at first and now i cant stop thinking abt that.... would u ever consider writing some ridiculously nsfw rough stretching? maybe? pretty pls? 🤭🫣💗

Ride, Cowgirl

Pairing: Harry Styles × Reader

CW: Explicit sexual content, dominant/submissive dynamic, size kink, rough stretching, degradation/praise mix, mild overstimulation, consensual power play.

Synopsis: Y/N tries to ride Harry but struggles to take his size. He takes control, pushing her past her limits with rough, overwhelming pleasure, leaving her ruined, praised, and full.

It started with you on top, because Harry asked, and you always try.

“Go on, darling,” he murmured, voice syrupy smooth but thick with authority. “Show me how much you want it.”

The bedroom was dim, moonlight cutting across the sheets in a narrow beam. He sat against the headboard, arms relaxed at his sides, watching you like a meal he had all the time in the world to devour. You were already breathless, thighs trembling, the ache between your legs unbearable.

And his cock—God—he looked too big.

He always did.

You hovered above him, your knees caging his hips. One of his large hands rubbed up and down your outer thigh in lazy, teasing strokes, while the other gripped the base of his cock, thick and pulsing and unreasonably hard.

“You’re not scared, are you?” he smirked tilting his head. “Thought you wanted to be my good girl.”

You did. You always did. But that didn’t make it easier.

You whimpered as you lined yourself up, holding his shoulders for balance. Just the head pressing against your entrance made your breath hitch.

“I can’t…” you whispered, hips jerking slightly away. “Harry, you’re too big.”

He gave a low chuckle, mocking but fond. “No such thing, love. You just have to relax. Take your time.”

But time wasn’t something Harry liked to waste, not when he was this worked up.

Suddenly, both of his hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your flesh with bruising promise. “You’ve teased me enough tonight. I let you sit on my lap in that little dress. Let you grind on me like a needy slut at dinner. Thought you could rile me up and then back out?”

Your mouth parted in a shaky breath.

“No,” you whispered, dazed.

“Then do it.” His voice dropped, tone commanding. “Get. On.”

He didn’t give you a chance to hesitate this time. His grip forced your hips down just an inch—just enough for the tip to slip past your entrance—and the stretch made you whimper, both hands clutching at his chest. It burned, in that way it always did. He was too wide, too thick. Your cunt spasmed around him, and you clenched without meaning to.

Harry groaned under you, head falling back with a tight jaw. “Fuck, you’re gripping already. Barely got the tip in, and you’re squeezing me like that?”

You moaned, half from pleasure, half from frustration. You tried to slide down farther on him, but your body resisted, muscles trembling. Your thighs started to burn from the effort. Every time you moved even a little lower, it felt like you were being split open.

He watched you struggle, his breathing getting heavier. His hands never left your hips, guiding, steady, controlling. “You want help, baby? Or you wanna prove you can take it?”

You whimpered, shaking your head. “I want to, I swear—I just can’t…”

He shushed you gently, a sudden contrast to his rough grip. “Don’t cry, angel. We’ll make it fit. You always take me, don’t you?”

You nodded, swallowing hard.

“Good girl,” he purred. “Then ride me.”

You tried again, lowering yourself more, inch by inch. Your walls stretched painfully around him, slick pooling between your legs. You cried out, digging your nails into his shoulder blades. You weren’t even halfway down, and it already felt like too much.

He groaned, sweat beginning to sheen on his chest. “You’re fuckin’ made for me. Look at you, struggling on top of me like this— fuck..”

The way he said it, it made your insides twist with need.

“I can’t ride you, H—” you gasped, tears stinging your lashes. “I—my legs are shaking, I—”

“Because you’re lazy or because I’m too big?” he asked lowly, cocky and calm.

You whined. “Both.”

He laughed—genuinely laughed—and then he gripped your hips tighter. “That’s alright, bunny. I’ll do it for you.”

And then, without warning, he bucked his hips up.

You screamed.

Your body sank onto him all at once, and your thighs gave out completely, collapsing onto his chest. You were so full, too full. It felt like he reached everywhere. Like he had no business fitting inside you at all.

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

“Shhh, shhh, I’ve got you,” he cooed into your ear, wrapping one strong arm around your waist. “There you go, baby. You’re doing so well.”

You tried to lift your hips again, but your legs wouldn’t cooperate. Your pussy fluttered helplessly around him, stretched to its limit, overwhelmed. The burn, the fullness, the way he kept praising you through your struggle, it was all too much.

“I feel so full,” you whispered, voice wrecked.

“I know you do.” He kissed your temple, his other hand coming up to cradle your jaw. “Look at you. Stuffed full of cock and still trying to be brave. You’re my perfect girl, aren’t you?”

You nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks.

He shifted you in his arms, effortlessly strong, so your chest was flush with his and your thighs straddled his waist loosely. He was so deep like this, nestled inside your trembling cunt, and he didn’t move, just held you there, letting your walls adjust.

Then he started to thrust.

Slowly, at first, tiny rocks of his hips that made you whimper with each motion. The stretch was sharper now that he was moving. You moaned into his neck, nails raking down his back.

“You feel that?” he murmured, breath hot against your cheek.

“Yes,” you sobbed. “Feels so big—too big—”

“But you’re still taking it,” he said darkly. “You’re taking all of me.”

His pace picked up. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with your broken cries. Your body bounced slightly with each thrust, but you couldn’t even lift yourself anymore. He was holding all your weight, driving up into you again and again, stretching you raw.

You keened, walls fluttering desperately.

“Fuck,” he growled, biting down lightly on your shoulder. “Gonna come just from being used like this, aren’t you? My desperate, messy girl.”

You shattered.

Your body spasmed in his arms, and you screamed as your orgasm tore through you, overwhelming, all-consuming, a full-body quake that left your limbs numb and your head fuzzy. You didn’t even realize you were crying until he kissed the tears off your cheeks.

“That’s it,” he whispered, still fucking you through it, though his thrusts were sloppier now, more desperate. “That’s my girl.”

Your walls clenched hard again, and he let out a strangled groan, burying his face in your neck.

“Fuck, baby—I’m gonna—”

And then he was coming, cock twitching deep inside you as he groaned your name, hot and low and broken. You felt the warmth of it fill you, his hips grinding into yours as he emptied every last drop.

He didn’t move for a while, just held you there, wrapped around him, still trembling.

Eventually, he stroked your back and kissed your jaw. “You okay, lovie?”

You nodded weakly. “Mhm. Sore.”

He smiled into your skin. “Did I break my girl?”

“Almost,” you whispered, smirking.

#harry styles x reader #dom harry styles #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x original character #harry styles x you #harry styles x oc #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles fandom #fanfic #fanfiction #dom!harry styles

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moonstruckme · 3 months ago

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hi, how are you?

really move your writing, it has def helped me through tough times, so thank you for that so much, I cannot tell you how much appreciation I carry for you

I was wondering, since you are okay with writing about self harm scars (I think, if I understand your list or off-limit request stuff correctly, if not, sorry, then just ignore this) if you would maybe write something with Sirius x reader, where maybe r isn’t feeling all that great abt her scars (preferably on her thighs, but if not also totally fine) and Sirius draws on them and reassures her and all that stuff

Hope you have a great day, sending you lots of love

Sending love back angel <3

cw: past self harm, discussion of scars

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 922 words

“What’s that supposed to be?”

“Gorgeous, you can cut the shit. We both know I’m a modern Poussin.”

You smile, radiant in the sunlight spilling into your sitting room. You came here to read, but Sirius was hellbent on distracting you, and as always he’s succeeded. Your book has been long since closed, the two of you lazing the day away with kisses and go-nowhere conversations while Sirius draws on your skin in black ink.

“You’ve just said some obscure artist to show off,” you accuse. “You know I don’t know who that is.”

“Yes, well, two can play at the game of belittlement.”

Sirius is quite obviously drawing clouds. They live in the crook of your elbow, and they’re perfectly nebulous. You’re only pretending not to know because you enjoy playing with him. Luckily for you, Sirius enjoys letting you.

“Is there going to be a sun?” you ask after a while.

“Don’t need one. That’s you already, sunshine.”

You make a phony groaning sound, clearly delighted. “You’re so cheesy.”

“I know. See what you’ve done to me?” Sirius grins, tilting his head up for a kiss.

You indulge him. You’re in an indulgent mood, all sun-warmed and languorous, reclining against the cushions like a goddess. You wouldn’t likely let him doodle all over you otherwise. Sirius is taking advantage of a rare opportunity.

He goes back to work, adding some raindrops and then stars trailing up your arm. He thinks you’re dozing, but when Sirius turns to look at you again your expression has gone solemn. You’re looking down at your own lap like it’s a piece of gum stuck to your shoe.

Your scars bother you, sometimes. Sirius can never really predict when those times will be—it depends on your mood, how often you’ve been thinking about them, and a slew of other things inside that lovely head of yours—but here in the sunlight he can see how you got hung up. They’re showier than usual, light and shimmery in the crease of your thighs. Faded, but there.

Sirius puts his hand over them. Not to cover, but to caress.

You seem to snap out of your reverie. “Sorry,” you say.

“What for?” he asks.

It’s a trick question and you know it. You’re silent for a time. Silence is not usually Sirius’ favorite thing, but he lets it lie, stroking his index finger over your leg.

“I’m just,” you admit in a soft voice, “not liking them very much lately.”

“Yeah?” He looks up at you, seeking. “Have you been feeling okay?”

“Yeah. I have, really.”

“You’d tell me if not?”

You nod. Not quite looking at him, but Sirius knows that’s more evidence of shame than dishonesty. You trust him, and he trusts you.

“I don’t think you have to like them, baby.” He kisses gently beside your chin. “I’d like it if you didn’t hate them, but I know you can’t always help it.”

“I don’t know if I hate them.” Your eyes seem glued to where Sirius is rubbing your leg. Your voice is small. “I just…sometimes I don’t care if people see them, but other times they feel so embarrassing.”

Sirius scoffs. “Well, that’s silly.”

You frown. “Why?”

“Because,” he says, uncapping his pen again. You don’t stop him when he starts drawing small flowers over and in between your lines. “I—look, you’re allowed to feel any way you want about them, okay? Obviously. But the way I see it, they’re just something that happened to you.”

Admittedly, Sirius didn’t always feel that way. When he first saw them, he’d been angry—at you, at your brain, at anyone and anything that had ever made you feel awful enough to do this to yourself—but it hadn’t taken long for that initial wrath to deliquesce into a wet, formless sorrow. Sirius doesn’t like not having anyone to blame. He likes thinking of the people he loves hurting even less. But it was a reality for you at one time, and there’s nothing either of you can do about it now. All Sirius wants now is to keep enough light in your present that maybe someday it washes out the past. It may never happen, but he can hope. And he can hold your hand no matter what.

He twines the fingers of his free hand loosely with yours, making looping lines for petals on your leg.

“I don’t like that they did happen,” he admits, “but I don’t like that I broke my arm in fourth year either.” He senses your eyes going to the scar on his forearm. Once large and long, but now faded. “Nothing we can really do about them, though.”

You hum. “Yours was an accident.”

“I know,” Sirius murmurs. He looks at you. “I know they’re not the same thing, baby. But I don’t think you wanted your scars any more than I wanted mine, right?”

You hold his eyes this time, your gaze tentative but full of love. “No.”

“Right.” He kisses you. Lingers until you soften into it, your lips parting for him. Sirius pecks the corner of your mouth once he’s done. “So, you just keep talking to me, and I’ll tell you when you have something to be embarrassed about. Okay?”

Your smile comes almost unwillingly, your eyes slipping from his to look at the blooming garden covering your legs. “Okay,” you say.

“There’s my girl. Now, do you think it would tickle terribly if I drew a circus on the bottom of your foot?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect.”

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archangeldyke-all · 6 months ago

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I love all of the isha, jinx, reader and sev found family so much.

Was wondering about a reader who had a shaky relationship with their family. A couple of ideas. Maybe they are so worried about hurting isha, or they don't really know much about parenting and family. Maybe they are just hesitant. Or they don't talk too much either, but connect with isha.

I have no clue, would love anything, love your writing so much!! Totally fine if not I hope you have an awesome day either way :))

- 🌱

eeeee gonna combine this!!

thinking abt jinx isha and sev snuggling up to reader when she’s sad :(

men and minors dni

there are days, for both you and sevika, where the abundance of love from your new found family overwhelm you.

neither of you had the best childhoods. neither of you are close with your families now. and sometimes realizing that this is what a family is supposed to feel like kinda paralyzes you.

it's a horrible combination of grief and horror for your younger self, and for jinx and isha before they had you, and a gratefulness that you've managed to escape the cycles of abuse that have haunted your bloodlines.

it happens to sevika most often. jinx will spill a glass at dinner and you'll all calmly clean it up, giggling and teasing jinx for her butterfingers-- and sevika will get choked up with how easy it is. how little yelling, bleeding and crying had to occur for the problem to be solved.

she usually has to take a minute to herself, sometimes dragging you with her to the bedroom to bury her face against your neck and breathe in your scent as she calms down.

but after a few minutes, it washes over her, and she's back to her normal self.

it's different for you. it isn't little moments that trigger it, it just creeps up out of nowhere. you'll wake up one morning with the weight of the world pinning you to the bed, and you just won't be able to get up.

today's one of those days.

you don't know why it's happening now, but it's happening. how could you face a world that would treat a child so horribly that she can't talk? a world where doctors will fuse teenage girls' blood with shimmer, permanently altering her senses and instincts? a world where 'peacemakers' flood the streets with toxic gas?

you can't. at least not today.

"baby, it's almost eleven." sevika whispers, gently pulling the blankets away from your body. "'re you sick?" she asks, feeling your forehead tenderly.

her touch makes you weepy. you take a shaky breath. "i just--" you cut yourself off with a squeaky sob. sevika's face falls, and she quickly scrambles to join you in bed, scooping you into her arms. "i just can't do it today, sev." you say, falling apart against her chest.

sevika lets you cling to her, gently stroking your back and kissing your head as you cry against her. "that's alright, love." she whispers. "i'll do it all for you today."

this only makes you cry harder.

"sevika, where'd you go?! we're about to race rainbow road, c'mon i wanna watch isha kick your ass aga-- oh, shit." jinx cuts herself off, her eyes wide as she blinks at the pair of you. "y-you alright, sweetcheeks?" she asks, a worried little frown on her lips.

before you can answer, little footsteps come thumping toward your room. hurry up, big mama! isha signs as she comes sprinting in the room. her eyes get wide and worried, and she tugs jinx's hand pointing at you with concern. ms. baby, what's wrong? isha asks.

"she's just... having a rough day, kids." sevika explains, rubbing your back for you. a few tears leak out of your eyes at her gentle voice and her careful words. "y'know those days where you just need to be sad?"

jinx seems to understand, her eyes softening in sympathy and one of her arms reaching out to start playing with isha's hair. "yeah, i've had a few of those." she chuckles wryly. "just gotta cry in bed until tomorrow." jinx shrugs. "sorry, sweetcheeks."

you smile weakly at jinx. "'s alright. i'll be up and at 'em again soon."

isha's still worried, though. ms. baby, do you need a kiss? she signs.

you burst into a fresh round of tears, and jinx chuckles, just a little. "t-that would be great, isha." you sob. isha scrambles into bed beside you and sevika, carefully holding your face between her tiny hands as she kisses your forehead. it's surprising just how much her little kiss makes you feel better. you chuckle a little. "thanks kiddo."

"do you wanna come lay on the couch? watch us play mario? you can still cry and sleep, but at least we'll be there to keep you company." sevika offers.

you smile, then frown. "that sounds amazing, baby, but i don't think i have the energy to get out of bed." you admit. sevika scoffs and gets out of bed. your heart sinks, and you choke on a sob. "i-i know it's pathetic, 'm sor--"

"baby, shut the fuck up." sevika says, ripping the blankets off of you. you gasp and shiver, and sevika leans down and easily hauls you up into her arms. you gasp and squeal, and jinx and isha burst into laughter and screams. "jinx, will you grab a few pillows for her?" sevika asks as she starts carrying you into the living room. jinx trails behind you, your pillows and a blanket in her arms.

isha disappears into her bedroom, only to return as sevika's settling you down on the couch, placing her favorite bunny plushy in your arms. bunny will make you feel better. she signs. you start to cry again, nodding and thanking her shakily, cradling the stuffy to your chest.

isha and jinx settle down on the floor in front of the couch, and sevika covers you up with blankets before pulling your legs into her lap and sitting beside you. "you gonna be able to sleep with us screaming at each other?" she asks, grabbing her controller. you chuckle and nod.

"no different from any other nap i take." you tease. sevika grins and you sigh happily, your heart throbbing with appreciation and love.

you fall asleep after sevika falls off the track for the third time. when you wake back up, isha and jinx have piled on top of you and sevika, all three of them snoring as they enjoy an afternoon nap.

despite the heaviness in your chest and your tired eyes trying to drag you back to sleep, you take a moment to remember the moment before you close your eyes--knowing that despite all the horrible associations you've had with family in your past; from now on this is what family will be.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #🌱 anon

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airborneice · 1 year ago

Text

can we talk about how @the-hilda-librarians-wife is just out here writing poetry in the tags like it’s no big deal

@sketchbookweek Day 3 - Sun & Moon / Family

you know I had to bring up my sketchbook kid Mattie for this one. in my mind this is like…impromptu midnight storytime bc someone woke up the entire household and now she’s almost settled no one wants to get up or go back to bed

(Kaisa has become a little more comfortable with openly doing magic by this point, partly because of reconnecting with Tildy in season 2 and partly because no matter how shoddy her spells come out, they never fail to entertain her kids, especially her youngest. Kaisa does the best stories in this house. no child can resist magic floating pictures)

#i meant to post this ages ago and lost it in my drafts NO #anyway Im v happy you liked it wife this makes the days I spent endlessly editing and fixing it worth it 😌#also this made me realise I FORGOT TWIG. twig did NOT care for storytime he’s got better things to do ig. dammit I knew I’d forgot somethin #anyway oh my god..OH MY GODD wife I’m gonna cry a)I can’t believe you were gonna write a curses sequel abt them 🥺🥺#and b)this is SO WHOLESOME ough.. ‘I can feel your love in it’ WAHH #I am by no means trying to put pressure on you or anything but just know that if you did still decide to write this I’d be SO here for it 🥺#but also I am already here for it I frickin love the stuff you come up with for Mattie and this sounds so cool aaaaa #ngl there is so much I wanna talk abt with kaisa’s ~magic experience~ and how it plays into mattie’s upbringing #bc this woman is Trying but she has issues and I need to post abt it at some point 😭#anyway aaahhh I absolutely love that this is something you’ve been thinking about too and it’s SO sweet. hell yeah skbk brainlink..again #OH btw I’ve read curses..made myself stay awake enough to read it on the day bc I rly wanted to finish it and then fell asleep immediately #I’m trying to find like one spare moment to actually put my thoughts down but tl;dr for now I freaking loved it I’m going feral over here #thank you sooo much for writing it I’ll be thinking abt it for the rest of my life. I’ll come back sometime with something coherent #Also jsksj yeah I think when I planned this I meant for the batw ref to be a bit more subtle and then that went out the window at some poin #and yknow what this is the hill I’ll die on. everyone is tired ofc kaisa’s gonna insert herself and her wife #into the story for fun and see how long it takes anyone else to notice. canon now 😌#!! Kaisa would so oblige with a sequel for mattie. I feel like as it is she’s got a real copy of batb & is just making it wlw as she goes #oh also why yes I remember that old drawing wife #the fact that I couldn’t read the task right haunts me everyday 😌#Jk but anyway *clutches heart* 🥺😭 I love that you remembered that and made something poetic out of it and this #You’re out here making more sense of my art than I put into it in the first place 🥺 ough #also YEAHH starlight is so freaking CUTE and I love it so much 😭😭 and NEBULA for Hilda oh my godddd. adorable 🥺#she Wouldn’t want Hilda to be left out you’re so right #Hilda probably thinks it’s a bit silly but also likes it and secretly thinks it’s cool 👉👈#anyway thank you for the tags I’ll be thinking abt this forever <3 #hilda ocs tag #mattieverse

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astonmartinii · 2 years ago

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i hope your finger’s ok!! please take all the time you need and remember you health comes first :) imma be selfish and send you a charles request cause ur writing makes me smile at my phone like an idiot and i can’t help it :p ok so!! charles x versteppen reader? shes max’s sister and drives for redbull (cause im delulu like that) and they’ve been fighting w each other since they were kids (no one knows why they started arguing they’re j petty and refuse to give it up even though they dk what they’re arguing abt anymore) and obvs they’re in love w each other - maybe another drivers flirting w her or smth and charles j snaps and hard launches the reader cause surprise they’ve been dating each other 🤭 holy shit this is long sorry for rambling 🙏🙏

angel baby, devil child | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x verstappen!reader

enemies to lovers blah blah blah

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 1,743,200 others

yourusername: crazy, crazy race. sorry not sorry to the tifosi, tell ur girl @charles_leclerc to kiss my ass not my rear tyre xoxo

view all comments

user1: okay they're clearly still in the enemies phase... when can we skip to lovers

user2: i personally love that charles is the mortal enemy of both verstappen siblings that's so slay of him

maxverstappen1: crop me out again and say goodbye to a tow in qualifying

yourusername: sorry maxy, not my fault i got all the photogenic genes xx

maxverstappen1: erm rude @christianhorner tell her to stop bullying me

yourusername: two can play at that game @sebastianvettel tell max to stop being a baby

user3: the way neither christian or seb replied they really don't get paid enough to deal with them

charles_leclerc: what is it with verstappens and their love for pushing me off the track

yourusername: what is it with your front wing and my rear tyre

charles_leclerc: umm i asked you first

yourusername: stop deflecting babe, we all know you love my ass so much you wanted a touch

charles_leclerc: i'd rather deep fry my hands than touch your rear

maxverstappen1: that can be arranged

user4: can't wait for these three to all be in the same press conference next week 🍿

carlossainz55: my favourite person to share the podium with

yourusername: thanks chilli (@tifosi you heard it here sainz is against ferrari 1-2s)

carlossainz55: NO that's not what i meant

landonorris: i see how it is ... god all men are the same AM I NOT PRETTY ENOUGH FOR YOU?

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 1,204,809 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: happy birthday to my bestest friend, biggest rival and favourite roommate. though maybe now you're 23 you can get your own place so you can sneak out to meet up with your secret boyfriend on your own terms and can keep that massive ballsack away from jimmy and sassy. i love you and verstappen dominance 4 ever.

view all comments

user7: i love y/n but i think she should bring her cat to races as a scare tactic

yourusername: wrinkle doesn't appreciate your tone but it is duly noted

yourusername: awwwwwwwww i love you maxy !! and you're never getting rid of your little sister unless you get married and ur a big fat nerd so that's never happening xx

maxverstappen1: attacking me after i just bought you a whole ass car

yourusername: i JOKE. thank you soooo much and you'll never get rid of me you love me too much to anyway.

maxverstappen1: enough to finally introduce me to the mystery man?

yourusername: blocked.

user8: are we all just ignoring her doing her literal eyeliner with a knife?

user9: or the fact that max likely walked in and was like oh wait this is a sick shot

danielricciardo: oh no that was me, i'm still traumatised but it's probably the best photo i've ever taken

yourusername: easy to do with a model like me

charles_leclerc: wtf is that thing in the last one

yourusername: rude of you to think ur balls look any nicer

charles_leclerc: what?

yourusername: what?

user10: does anyone want to elaborate?

carlossainz55: happy birthday y/n !

yourusername: thanks carlos, thank you for the flowers 👍

user11: this is either their way of flirting or y/n really couldn't give a flying fuck about carlos' obvious crush on her

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 2,098,560 others

yourusername: another trip around the sun and still following my brother around, difference is now i beat him x

view all comments

user16: your honour i am so obsessed with her

maxverstappen1: can't even be angry about it, you deserve the world

yourusername: you softy, i love you

maxverstappen1: also dummy i know who your boyfriend is now did you guys forget that we LITERALLY LIVE TOGETHER

yourusername: i was intoxicated my bad but we bought you breakfast?

maxverstappen1: literally the only reason he hasn't gone over the balcony, he might want to be gone before this hangover wears off

yourusername: noted.

user17: yall want to share with the class?

user18: based on ^^ this reaction i'm going to say it's not carlos

user19: watch out he'll drop a shit pick-up line in a second and be rejected

carlossainz55: hope you enjoyed your birthday beautiful

user20: bro this guy STINKS

user19: i told yall

yourusername: thank you carlos

user21: i'm sorry this is dry as hell it can't be carlos

charles_leclerc: my shoes will never recover, i'll be sending an invoice your way

yourusername: you're a millionaire boo, you can replace those tacky white trainers yourself

charles_leclerc: is having no manners a verstappen trait?

yourusername: come for max all you want, but the birthday girl? low leclerc

charles_leclerc: when you go low i go lower

yourusername: oh believe me i know all about you and going down

user22: DO YALL MIND?

user23: do they think we're dumb?

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, lancestroll and 1,204,674 others

charles_leclerc: a weekend without racing?

view all comments

user24: what is biden doing about the soft launch pandemic?

user25: well this is oddly timed ...

yourusername: you look like you'd have sweaty hands

charles_leclerc: wouldn't you like to know

yourusername: unlike all ur fangirls i've actually smelt you sweaty after a race so you can keep your hands to yourself

maxverstappen1: you heard her 🤨

charles_leclerc: why are you here? is this a 2 for 1 deal on annoying dutch people

yourusername: you can call him annoying all you want, but you love me don't lie

charles_leclerc: my lawyer says i shouldn't comment on that ;)

sebastianvettel: when will you two stop?

yourusername: sorry seb :(

charles_leclerc: sorry seb :(

user26: i know carlos is sick reading this weird flirting when y/n never comments on his pics

user27: she comes here just to flirt cause she didn't even like the photo

user28: she doesn't even follow him 😭

pierregasly: i love a slow burn as much as the next person BUT NOT WHEN I DON'T KNOW WHO IT IS PICK UP THE PHONE

charles_leclerc: you're so dramatic, nobody knows calmar

maxverstappen1: he's lying i do

pierregasly: WHAT

charles_leclerc: by ACCIDENT i didn't tell him by choice

user29: so like, it's definitely y/n LOL

user30: oh no everyone get ready marca is going to run a story tomorrow about how charles leclerc is ruining carlos' career with psychological warfare by flirting with the girl he likes

user31: sainz sr about to wage war lol

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 2,304,889 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: i don't share. i love you. please follow me on instagram now (and let me come on max's jet) x

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user35: HOLY FUCK

user36: they're so fucking sexy my lord

yourusername: you're so weak, one teammate flirts with me and you hard launch, i've had 12 year olds use me as a face claim to pretend they're pregnant with your child

charles_leclerc: they took your face? i happen to quite like it, can they give it back?

yourusername: quite?

charles_leclerc: don't make me look bad you know i positively LOVE YOUR FACE

yourusername: and my ass since it's all you look at on track

charles_leclerc: okay you can drop the act now people know we're in love stop being mean to me :(

yourusername: but it's true, no?

charles_leclerc: rest assured i love your actual ass much more

maxverstappen1: believe me the people she lives with know WAY too much about how much you love it

user37: carlos sainz really thought he had a chance when these fools have been together for TWO years

sebastianvettel: congratulations you two, glad we don't have to watch you two trying to be subtle now

maxverstappen1: so wait when did you find out?

sebastianvettel: about two weeks into the relationship, they were very obvious

yourusername: thank you for keeping our secret dad <3

user38: y/n really said you ARE my grid dad

yourusername: oh no that's my actual dad

charles_leclerc: he's literally going to walk y/n down the aisle

maxverstappen1: please don't tell me you're engaged? i only just got over you actually being together

charles_leclerc: i'm not your brother yet don't worry (i will be soon)

carlossainz55: congrats guys

user39: it's okay bro you can cry

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 2,301,541 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: two years with the love of my life, still on max's side on val d'argenton x

view all comments

user40: they're disgusting (when will it happen to me)

charles_leclerc: we'll have to agree to disagree

yourusername: just admit it you love to push verstappens off the track

charles_leclerc: sorry babe as much as i love you, i'll never let you win x

yourusername: good thing i always beat you then x

charles_leclerc: either way victory sex still bangs

user41: yes, yes they're cute, but i need a full on play-by-play of how this relationship came to be

user42: i know these menaces were giggling and kicking their feet every time they had an argument in comment sections

yourusername: oh it was very fun

charles_leclerc: but the radio messaged are 100% real lol

maxverstappen1: thanks for having my back, you're welcome for all the gross pictures i've taken for you guys

yourusername: consider your payment like every meal i make us

maxverstappen1: well if i did it f1 would be down three drivers

user43: wait so does charles basically live with them now?

maxverstappen1: unfortunately yes. depressing music, even worse cooking than me and horrendously loud sex with my sister. i should kick him out

charles_leclerc: i literally bought you noise-cancelling headphones?

maxverstappen1: nothing you can say will save me from this trauma

yourusername: just shag daniel and get off of our case x

note: ahhhhh i am so sorry this request took so long, my inbox keeps moving stuff around lol. my finger is good thanks for asking, the human body is a wonder and i peeled off the last of my scab this week lol. i hope this was the kinda thing you were looking for !! xx

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc x you

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bearambles · 9 months ago

Note

Okok little request if ur up for it. Just Hamzah x reader (gn if mentioned) where they have a smoke sesh together in his new apartment but reader gets too comfortable and accidentally falls asleep on Hamzah with the cats.

Just pure fluff lmaoo I just can't get the thought out of my head I need to grip his shirt like a child he just looks so comfy :')

Also idc what format it can be headcanon or a small fic, whatever u feel!!

close to you 🎀 (hamzah)

words: 1.1k

warnings: use of weed, making out, fluff, established relationship

note: hi lovelies!! im so sorry for the lack of posts recently - im on vacation and ive had no time or motivation. on the ride home though, im gonna try to catch up to requests!! and im thinking abt writing smut again 🤭

“do you wanna smoke?”

hamzahs head turns from looking at the ceiling to looking at you. he looks almost nervous, his eyes darting across your face like he did the first time he kissed you. you smile at the thought and sit up on his bed.

he’d invited you over to see his new apartment (finally). you’d ended up in his room playing with his new cats, blue and red, who seemed to take a liking to you. blue sits in your lap now, and you scratch behind her ears as you speak.

“like, a blunt?”

he stays laying down, red lying on his chest. he pets her and laughs softly.

“nah, i have a pen. but it’s the same idea.”

he raises an eyebrow, “you have smoked before, right?”

you blush, your face heating up. you look down to the kitty in your lap, and bring both legs up so they’re crossed.

“duh. just like. once or twice in high school, though. and…” you trail off.

“and?” he asks, picking up red in his arms and sitting up next to you.

“i don’t think i did it right. like, i didn’t really feel anything.” you admit

“oh okay. that’s okay. i mean like- if you don’t wanna-“

“no, i do.” you say quickly, “i just - like you’ll have to teach me i guess. that sounds stupid. but the first time was like, a bong and i totally didn’t inhale shit.”

he laughs, and the sound makes you crack a smile, even after embarrassing yourself. he’s wearing his camo hoodie, and his curls are just the perfect amount of messy. one falls into his eyes and he blushes it away with his palm.

“that’s okay, i can show you. though, i don’t know how great a teacher i’ll be.”

he places red in your lap next to blue and gets up from the bed, going to dig through his drawers for his pen. you watch the way he moves, the way his sweatshirt rides up and shows a bit of his back. the way his pants fit. you look away when you catch yourself being a creep.

he finds it and goes to sit in front of you this time, near the end of the bed. he’s closer now, his legs matching yours in a sort of lazy criss-cross. he observes the device in his hands for a second before bringing it to his lips and inhaling.

when he releases the smoke, he tilts his head up and you stare at his neck. the smoke leaves his lips slowly and quickly disappears. he looks back to you and holds it out for you to take.

“it’s gonna die soon so we can just finish it today.” he says as you grab the pen from his hand, “unless you like, go crazy after a few hits.”

you roll your eyes and look at the pen in your hand, before lifting it to your mouth. you look to him for confirmation and he nods, so you deeply inhale like you saw him do.

“okay, now inhale again, and you’ll feel it in the back of your throat.”

you do as he says and feel it - it sort of burns. after a moment you puff out your cheeks and then release the smoke, slow at first. that is until you cough, and the rest comes out.

he laughs and takes the pen from your hand.

“you okay?”

you nod, but keep coughing for a moment. sitting up, you reach your hand out again, wiggling your fingers to ask for the pen back. he raises an eyebrow at you.

“you want it again already.” you nod. “alright, but be careful, for real. don’t do too much just to impress me.”

you give him a look.

“i’m not, i swear. just, lemme try again okay?”

he hands you the pen and you take another hit, this one burning less. you feel it in your head, and you smile as you let out the smoke into his face. he waves his hand to get it away, but he’s laughing.

“thatta girl, hey, you feel good?”

“i feel great.” you say, going in to kiss him. he kisses back and leans forward, wrapping his hands around your waist. you uncross your legs and sit up on your knees.

his mouth is soft and you moan into it as he moves his hands down to the back of your legs, lifting you onto his waist. from there he moves back so he’s up against the bedframe with you in his lap.

it’s like that for the next hour - slow kisses and the pen passed between you two. neither of you suggest anything more despite your closeness (and hamzahs obvious hard-on). there’s a soft sort of feel to the moment.

“i wanna try something.” he says eventually, taking the device from your fingers and moving it to his mouth.

you look at him with curiosity and lean back slightly to watch. he pushes the smoke around in his mouth a bit before taking your face in both of his hands and pulling you close. you open your mouth to kiss him, but he stays just an inch away, and while your lips are parted, blows the smoke into your open mouth.

inhaling it, you smile against his mouth and properly kiss him. you can feel his grin forming too. he deepens the kiss and his hold on your waist tightens.

when he pulls away, his eyes dance across your face and his mouth rests in a lazy smile.

“what?” you ask, regarding his staring problem

“just so…so fuckin pretty.”

you bite your lip to hide your grin and shake your head. your hair is a mess after all that’s happened and your makeup is smeared. still, hamzah seems mesmerized.

you bury your head in his neck for him to hold you. his hoodie smells like the smoke and a bit of his cologne. you breathe in and out repeatedly, smelling him. he smells so good, so safe.

slowly you slump down to lay on his chest. on instinct, his hand reaches to play with your hair, pushing it out of your face.

it’s funny, hamzah never seemed handsy before this. you never considered him someone who likes physical touch - not with friends or even family, mostly. but with you it’s different. he didn’t expect it either, but as soon as he felt your soft skin on his, he never wanted it any other way.

the motion of him stroking your hair makes you sleepy and eventually your eyes drift closed. you sleep for hours - if you had any actual plans for the day you would wake up stressed and anxious. instead, you wake up and see his head above yours, resting against his pillow.

he’s fallen asleep too.

i hope you enjoyed! requests are open! >_<

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzah x reader #hamzah imagines #hamzah x y/n #hamzahsmut #slushy noobz #hamzah fic #hamzahthefantastic smut #muffin-berry #hamzahxreader #hamzah smut #hamzah the fantastic #hamzah fluff #hamzah angst

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itneverendshere · 8 months ago

Note

hi again! so I've been meaning to send a request, but before i go about it I wish to say it's completely okay if you're not inspired by this, or if you simply don't want to write it, i would hate myself if I made you overwhelmed or smth. love you anyways 💕 so for the request: reader who's autistic. she's not very talkative nor socially active, never had a boyfriend, has one or two friends, yet somehow rafe notices her and finds her endearing. she's okay being herself with her friends, like she's funny, kind and passionate about her interests (like geek stuff, fantasy books, animals and such). she has zero flirting experience and is always dismissive towards rafe bc she doesn't think someone could like her romantically, and she's always suspicious of people bc they've wronged her in the past (in my experience as an autistic person i tend to believe everything ppl say and am kinda naive, so ppl played me or said unrealistic things and I believed them, which then is a reason for laughter, now I'm always suspicious to ppl's intentions). I'm giving you creative freedom with this, just wanted an autistic reader for once :) if you feel like writing it but need to know more abt autism, you can just post question and I'll answer in your asks, if that's okay. Just a reminder again before I go: feel free to decline this request, I know it might not be something cool to write and that's okay ☺️ love you lots, thank you for your time!

i tried my best, hope you like it 🫶🏼 and if you don't lmk so i can do better!! this was really fun since it's a compeltely new topic of inspiration. kinda left an "open" ending bc i couldn't make my mind up lmao. thank you for the resquest and sorry it took me a while to finally do it 🫂

got dreams but i can't make myself believe them - r.c

paring: rafe x autistic!reader word count: 6.9k

The party was a mistake.

You knew it the moment you walked in, the terrible music and crush of people making your skin crawl. Your friends had been relentless, insisting that you needed to “get out more” and “live a little,” despite your repeated attempts to explain that “getting out” meant something different to you.

You’d caved eventually, and now you were standing awkwardly in the corner of a stranger’s living room, clutching your book like it was a life vest. You needed to stop letting them drag you everywhere.

It was the typical college party scene, at least the one's you'd heard or read about before. Red solo cups everywhere, groups of people huddled on couches or pressed together on the so called dance floor, and a few already-drunk guys yelling loudly in the kitchen.

This was supposed to be fun?

“Just stay for an hour,” they said. “If it’s really that bad, you can leave.”

Right.

Except an hour felt like an eternity when you were trapped in a sensory nightmare. You took a deep breath, scanning the crowded room, the noise was a constant, overwhelming buzz in your ears.

This was definitely a mistake.

You did what you always did best in these situations: found a quiet place to hide.

After walking through the drunk college students, you ended up on hidden nook near the back of the house. It was a small room, probably some sort of den or study, but blessedly, it was empty.

With a sigh of relief, you settled into an oversized armchair, opened your book, and let the world outside your pages melt away.

Time slipped by as you read, the overwhelming noise changing into a distant hum. You were so engrossed that you didn’t notice when someone stumbled into the room until a loud crash jolted you out of your fictional word.

He nearly tripped over his own feet, catching himself at the last second with a slurred, “Shit.”

You looked up to find a guy standing unsteadily in the doorway, blinking blearily at you. He was tall, with tousled dark blonde hair and a loose grin that spoke of far too many drinks. His eyes were a striking blue even in the low light, and it took you a second to place him.

Rafe Cameron.

You knew him—well, of him, at least.

He was in your sociology class, always sitting a few rows behind you with his gaggle of equally charming friends. He’d never spoken to you before, though, and you’d never had a reason to pay him much attention.

Rafe's face split into a lazy grin, and he swaggered—no, stumbled—into the room, managing to make even that look effortless.

“Heyyy,” he drawled, leaning heavily against the arm of the chair across from you. “It’s… it’s you.”

You blinked at him. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he slurred, squinting like he was trying to see you clearly. “T-The girl from my class. The quiet one.”

Your stomach did a weird flip, part confusion, part disbelief.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded sagely, as if you’d just confirmed some great truth. “You’re the uh, the smart one. With the books.” He gestured vaguely at the one in your hands. “Always sittin’ up front, all… all cute n'shit.”

Your cheeks burned. Was he calling you cute? No. He was drunk—really drunk. He probably didn’t know what he was saying.

“Do you need help?” you asked cautiously. “You look—”

“I’m fine,” he cut you off, straightening up as if to prove it, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way he swayed on his feet. “Needed to get away from those fucking idiots out there. Too many people.”

You almost laughed.

Rafe Cameron, overwhelmed by people? The guy who was always surrounded by friends, girls draped over him like accessories? But he looked sincere—well, as sincere as a drunk person could look.

“Why don’t you sit down?” you suggested, gesturing to the empty chair. “You, um, might fall over if you don’t.”

“Pfft, I’m not gonna—” He paused mid-sentence, wobbling precariously. Then, as if he’d just made the smartest decision of his life, he plopped down in the chair, sprawling out. “See? Told ya m'fine,” he said, flashing you a lopsided grin.

You couldn’t help but snort.

“Right.”

He looked at you then, his gaze roaming over your face.

“What’re you doin’ here?” he asked abruptly.

You glanced at your book, then back at him. "Reading?”

“No, I mean… here,” he insisted, gesturing vaguely around the room. “At this shitty party.”

You shrugged, feeling awkward.

“My friends dragged me. I didn’t really want to come.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and he looked almost sober.

“Yeah, same.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He smirked, a flash of the cocky, arrogant guy you’d seen in class.

“Yeah, well… they’re fucking assholes, but they’re my assholes, y'know?”

You didn’t, but you nodded anyway. “Sure.”

“So, what’s that book about?”

You hesitated. “Um… it’s a fantasy novel.”

“Fantasy, huh?” He tilted his head, eyeing the cover. “Like wizards and dragons n'shit?”

“Sort of,” you admitted. “It’s about a girl who finds out she has magic and goes on a quest to—”

“Save the world?” he finished with a mock-solemn expression.

“...Yeah,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “But it’s more complicated than that.”

“Bet it is,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on you. “You’re really into that stuff, huh?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. Why?”

He shrugged, his smirk softening into something that looked like genuine interest. “You looked happy, talkin’ about it.”

Your heart did another weird little flip, and you frowned, pushing the feeling down. He was drunk, this didn’t mean anything. He wouldn’t remember it in the morning.

Rafe's eyes drifted shut, his head lolling back against the chair and within seconds, he was snoring.

You sat there, stunned.

What the hell had just happened?

Three days later, you were sitting in your usual spot in the lecture hall, flipping through your notes. Class was about to start, and the room was filling up with the usual pre-lecture chatter.

You were getting settled when someone slid into the seat beside you.

You glanced up, expecting one of your friends.

It was Rafe.

“Hey, friend,” he greeted casually, like you hadn’t left him passed out at a party a few nights ago.

You stared at him, completely disoriented. “Hi?”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair, acting like this was completely normal.

“Didn’t think I’d forget about you, huh?”

Your eyes narrowed. “I… yeah, actually.”

Rafe’s grin widened, and he leaned in closer, “See, that’s where you’re wrong, princess,” he murmured. “I remember everything.”

Did he just give you a nickname?

Your stomach dropped. “Oh?"

“Yeah.” He crossed his arms, looking entirely too smug. “You, sitting there all cute with your book, talking about magic and shit. Thought I was too drunk to remember, huh?”

“I—” You gawked at him, completely off balance. “Why are you here?”

“Because I want to be,” he said simply. “Got a problem with that?”

You blinked, caught off guard.

“No?”

“Good.” He flashed you a grin, “So, you gonna tell me more about that book, or what?”

You gaped at him. “You actually want to hear about it?”

“Why not?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “It made you smile.”

For some very stupid reason, that simple statement knocked the breath out of you.

“Okay,” you said, still unsure if this was some kind of elaborate prank.

Rafe leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world. Weird dude.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I think I’ll stick around.”

The next few classes were…weird, to say the least.

Ever since Rafe decided you were his new "friend," he’d taken to sitting beside you every lecture, plopping down in the empty seat as if he’d been there all along. It was confusing.

Most of the time, he’d breeze in at the last possible minute, sauntering up to your row without so much as a greeting and settling into the chair with that infuriatingly self-assured face. You were already seated, your notebook open and your pen poised to start taking notes when he dropped into the seat beside you with his usual nonchalance.

Rafe stretched his long legs out in front of him, casting you a sidelong look, daring you to acknowledge him first.

“Hi,” you said quietly, eyes flicking back to the front of the room.

“Hey, princess."

You kept your gaze firmly on your notebook. You’d quickly learned that the best way to deal with him was to pretend his presence didn’t affect you—no matter how much his proximity messed with you.

He’d spent the last three classes nudging your foot under the desk, passing snide comments under his breath, or leaning over just close enough to murmur sarcastic observations about whatever the professor was droning on about. And today was no different.

The lecture started, Professor Callahan launching into her usual detailed overview of sociological theory. You tried to focus, pen flying across your notebook as you jotted down her points.

“Is she always this boring?” he whispered, leaning in so his arm brushed against yours.

You stiffened, eyes fixed on your notes. “If you listened, it wouldn’t be so boring.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. Like I’m gonna waste my time listening to her go on about… what is it today? Class structure?”

“Yes,” you hissed, refusing to look at him. “And if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to—”

“You’re going to what?” he challenged, his grin audible in his voice.

You snapped your mouth shut, ignoring the way his leg brushed against yours under the desk. He was doing it on purpose—nudging your knee every so often, moving a little closer until the faint scent of his cologne surrounded you.

It was infuriating.

When you glanced sideways at him, he was looking at you with that maddening, lazy grin that made your heart stutter.

“Just pay attention,” you mumbled, cheeks warm.

“Why would I do that when I have such a pretty view right here?”

Your head whipped around, eyes wide. “What?”

His eyes moved back to the front of the room as if he hadn’t just made your brain short-circuit.

“Relax, princess. Just messin' with you.”

You swallowed, trying to refocus on the lecture. His attention felt like a physical thing—it made you uneasy.

Determined not to give him the satisfaction, you forced yourself to look at the professor, who was in the middle of explaining something about social hierarchies when she suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

“Mr. Cameron.”

The entire class fell silent.

You looked up, eyes widening in surprise as Professor Callahan fixed Rafe with a stern look.

“I’m aware that I’m not as pretty as your classmate,” she said dryly, gesturing toward you, “but I would appreciate it if you could pay attention for at least ten minutes.”

A ripple of snickers spread through the room, and your cheeks flamed scarlet. Rafe, however, didn’t blink, he was completely unruffled and offered the professor a lazy, arrogant smile.

“Sorry. Just got a little distracted.”

Your stomach dropped. He was staring at you, unabashedly.

The professor raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure.” Her tone was dry, unimpressed. “Would you mind keeping your distractions to yourself until after class?”

Another murmur of laughter swept through the room, and you shrank in your seat, mortified. His smirk widened, but he leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Of course, ma’am,” he drawled. “No more distractions.”

Professor Callahan gave him a pointed look, then turned back to the board, resuming her lecture. You sat there, face burning, refusing to look anywhere near Rafe, but you could feel his eyes on you.

“Guess I got you in trouble, huh?”

You grit your teeth, still staring resolutely at the front of the room. “Stop talking.”

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice teasing. “You’re way more interesting than this shit.”

“Rafe, I swear—”

“Okay, okay, I’ll behave,” he said lightly, sitting back. But he didn’t take his eyes off you. You could feel him lingering, warm and intent, and you wanted to scream.

How was he so calm? So unaffected, like getting called out by the professor was just a minor inconvenience?

You hated every second of it.

“Rafe,” you hissed under your breath, finally daring to glance at him. “Will you just—”

“What?”

“Stop staring.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Can’t promise that."

Your heart hammered, and you squeezed your pen so tightly it nearly snapped. “Why are you even here?”

He shrugged, his expression turning oddly serious. “I like sitting next to you.”

Rafe Cameron—the arrogant, cocky asshole you’d written off as nothing more than a nuisance—had just chosen to stay by your side.

As soon as class ended, you gathered your things in record time, heart still thumping wildly, keeping your head down, hoping to slip away unnoticed.

Maybe if you were quick enough, you could escape before he decided to make good on his new, annoying habit of sticking to you like glue. But, of course, he was nothing if not persistent.

You’d barely slung your bag over your shoulder when he appeared at your side, his tall frame looming over you as he fell into step like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Heading to lunch?” he asked, as if he hadn’t just spent the entire class making you the center of unwanted attention.

“Yes?” You tried not to sound as thrown as you felt.

“Cool. I’m starving.”

He said it like it was an invitation, as if he was entitled to follow you, and before you could muster up a half-hearted protest, he was already steering you through the crowded hallway.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you demanded, glancing around in panic.

People were staring, eyes widening as they took in the sight of Rafe Cameron, of all people, trailing after you. Whispers flitted through the air, disbelieving, and you shrank under the scrutiny, feeling painfully exposed.

“Uh, going to lunch with you?” He made it sound so obvious, his voice lilting with amusement.

“I didn’t invite you!” You glanced at him, trying to tamp down the fluttery, nervous feeling his presence always seemed to stir up. “What if I’m eating with someone else?”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll eat with them too.”

You gawked at him. “What?”

“Relax. It’s just lunch.”

Just lunch. This was completely absurd.

You narrowed your eyes, debating whether to make a break for it, but he was already pulling you toward the main quad, his hand ghosting the small of your back in a way that made your skin tingle.

Your heart hammered as the familiar outdoor seating area came into view. Your friends were already there, sitting at your usual table—a small group of two girls and a guy, all talking animatedly.

Their expressions morphed from curious to shocked when they caught sight of you—and Rafe—heading straight toward them.

“Uh, hey,” you greeted awkwardly as you approached. They just stared, mouths agape.

Emily was the first to recover.

“What the—since when do you two know each other?” she asked, eyes darting between you and Rafe like she was seeing a glitch in the matrix.

“Yeah, what’s going on here?” Max, the guy in your small circle, chimed in, his gaze flicking to Rafe warily. “Is this, like… a project thing?”

“No, it’s not—” you started, but Rafe cut you off with a breezy smile.

“Can’t believe y’all kept her to yourselves this whole time,” he drawled, pulling out the chair beside yours and plopping down like he’d done it a thousand times before. “Thought you’d have the decency to introduce me to the prettiest girl on campus.”

Your friends gaped, eyes wide with shock. You could see their brains short-circuiting.

Meanwhile, you were fighting the urge to smack him upside the head.

“Please shut up,” you muttered under your breath, cheeks burning.

His gaze slid over your stunned friends with lazy amusement. “What?” he said innocently. “It’s true.”

“What the hell is happening right now?” Emily demanded, still staring at you like you’d grown a second head. “You—you and Rafe Cameron?”

You sighed, already regretting every life choice that had led you to this moment. “There is no ‘me and Rafe Cameron.’ He just—he’s being annoying.”

“Annoying?” he repeated, feigning offense. “C’mon. I thought we were past that.”

“We are not past anything,” you snapped, shooting him a glare.

“Okay, back up,” Max interjected, brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you guys even know each other?”

“Uh, sociology class?” you offered weakly, as if that explained anything. “He’s been sitting next to me.”

“Sitting next to you?” Emily repeated slowly, as if she was trying to process a particularly difficult equation. “And now you’re… eating lunch together?”

“It’s not—” You looked helplessly at Rafe, who was watching the exchange with that insufferable smirk. “I didn’t ask him to.”

He looked completely unfazed by the mess he’d caused.

“What can I say? I like the company.”

“Since when?” Emily shot back, clearly unconvinced.

Rafe shrugged, “Since she started talking to me.”

Your friends fell silent, eyes wide and suspicious as they turned to you, searching for answers. But you just sat there, feeling utterly, hopelessly lost. What were you supposed to say? Rafe Cameron had decided, out of nowhere, to insert himself into your life? That he was following you to lunch like this was some sort of normal occurrence?

“Look,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s really not a big deal. He’s just—”

“Rafe Cameron is never ‘just’ anything,” Emily interrupted, folding her arms as she fixed Rafe with a suspicious look. “So what are you up to?"

“Nothing,” Rafe said easily, his smile all sharp edges. “Like I said, I’m just getting to know her.”

“Getting to know her,” Max echoed, skeptical.

“Yeah.” Rafe’s eyes never left yours, his eyes gleaming with something that made your pulse flutter. “What’s so weird about that?”

Your friends exchanged looks. You didn’t blame them. This was weird. More than weird.

You’d never been the kind of girl to attract attention—especially not from someone like Rafe. Popular, arrogant, and completely out of your league in every possible way. Yet, here he was, sitting with you at lunch like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“So,” He said suddenly, turning his attention back to the group, “Are you gonna sit here gaping all day, or are we gonna eat?”

Emily blinked, snapping out of her daze. “Uh, yeah, we’re… we’re eating.”

“Good.” Rafe turned to you, eyebrow raised. “You eating, princess?”

You stared at him, “I—yes?”

“Cool. Want me to grab you something?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re offering to get me lunch?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I am. What do you want?”

“I—” You swallowed, glancing at your friends, who were watching the exchange. “Um, a sandwich?”

“Got it.” Rafe pushed to his feet, “Be right back.”

To your utter disbelief, he sauntered off toward the food line, leaving you and your friends staring after him.

“What,” Max said slowly, “the fuck just happened?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I have no idea.”

The awkward lunch with Rafe didn’t end as badly as you expected.

Your friends had spent the entire time shooting you confused, bewildered looks, while he seemed to thrive under their scrutiny, lounging beside you like he belonged. He didn’t flirt—Thank God—but he didn’t tone down his usual cocky self either.

By the end of it, he’d somehow managed to charm your friends enough to leave them more confused rather than outright hostile. Still, after that lunch, you’d expected him to lose interest, to join his usual crowd and forget all about his bizarre little experiment.

You learned that the hard way two days later.

It was late afternoon, and you were holed up in one of the campus library, buried under a mountain of textbooks and notes for an upcoming exam. It was your sanctuary—blissfully free of distractions.

At least, until Rafe sauntered in.

You didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in your notes, hunched over a particularly dense passage in your sociology textbook when you felt it— glancing up cautiously.

Rafe leaned against the bookshelf a feet away, his eyes fixed on you with an assessing look.

“What are you doing here?” you hissed, glancing around nervously.

No one seemed to be paying attention, but you still felt like the entire room was suddenly staring.

“Studying,” he said, straight-faced.

“Since when do you study in the library?”

“Since now,” He pushed off the bookshelf and strolled over to your table, pulling out the chair across from you, “What? Can’t a guy broaden his horizons?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re joking.”

“Not today.” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as he peered at your open book. “So, what’re we learning?”

“We are not learning anything,” you muttered, eyes narrowing. “I’m studying. You...I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Keeping you company,” he said simply. “You looked lonely.”

“Lonely?”

“Yeah.” He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over your face. “All holed up in here with your books. Thought I’d help.”

What was he even talking about?

This was insane. He didn’t hang out in the library, especially not to “keep someone company.” He was the kind of guy who spent his free time at parties, or on the field, or wherever people like him thrived.

“Rafe,” you said slowly, “you don’t even know what I’m studying.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does if you’re trying to help,” you shot back, frustration seeping into your voice. “You’re—what are you even—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, raising his hands in surrender. “Calm down. Just trying to see what’s got you all riled up.”

You bit back a groan, rubbing your temples. You didn’t need—didn’t want—his attention.

“Fine,” you muttered, turning your textbook around so he could see the page. “I’m going over Durkheim’s theory of social integration.”

Rafe leaned in, squinting at the page. “Durkheim?”

“Yes,” you said, a little impatiently. “He believed that society functions through a collective conscience—shared beliefs and values that bind people together.”

“Sounds boring as hell,” Rafe said bluntly.

“It’s not boring,” you retorted before you could stop yourself. “It’s actually really interesting—he argued that a lack of social integration could lead to anomie, a state of normlessness that causes people to feel disconnected and isolated.”

Rafe stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

At least it felt that way to you.

“What?” you demanded, suddenly self-conscious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shrugged, a thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. “Just… you get really into this stuff, don’t you?”

Your cheeks flushed. “It’s sociology. It’s important.”

“Yeah, but…” He shook his head, “It’s kinda cute.”

You blinked, “Cute?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back, crossing his arms as he regarded you with a casual, easy confidence that made your heart flutter. “You get all intense when you talk about it. You actually care.”

“I—Of course I care,” you stammered, “It’s my major.”

“I know,” he murmured. “I like that about you.”

What—what was that supposed to mean? Why was he looking at you like that? Before you could untangle your thoughts, a shadow fell over the table, and you glanced up to see another student standing there—a tall, lanky guy with dark hair and glasses. He looked vaguely familiar, probably from one of your classes.

“Uh, hey,” the guy said awkwardly, glancing between you and Rafe. “Are—are you using this seat?”

Rafe’s expression changed instantly, “Yeah,” he said flatly. “We are.”

The guy blinked, taken aback. “Oh, uh, sorry, I just—”

“You just can find another table,” Rafe cut in, “We’re a little busy here.”

You gaped at him, mortified. “Rafe, stop.”

He kept staring down at the poor guy, his posture tense and unyielding until, with a muttered apology, the student backed off, scurrying away like he’d just had a close encounter with a predator.

“What's wrong with you?” You scolded as soon as the guy was out of earshot. “He just wanted to sit down!”

“Yeah, and we’re studying,” Rafe said dismissively. “No room for distractions.”

“We’re not studying anything!” you shot back, resisting the urge to smack him. “You’re sitting here, being—being weird.”

“Not weird,” he corrected, leaning in again. “Protective.”

You froze, “Protective?”

“Yeah.” His eyes locking onto yours. “Can’t have just anyone bothering you, can I?”

After the bizarre encounter in the library, you were convinced Rafe would drop this whole… whatever it was. For sure.

Surely, following you to lunch and then “protecting” you in the library was enough.

But when you found yourself at another party two nights later—dragged along by Emily despite your vehement protests—you knew it was only a matter of time before he found you. Somehow, no matter where you went, Rafe had made it his mission to seek you out.

“C'mooon, you need to have some fun,” Emily had insisted, half-pulling, half-dragging you through the front door of one of the fraternity houses on campus.

The music was already blaring, people were packed in the main room.

“This isn’t my idea of fun,” you muttered, hugging your arms around yourself as you tried to avoid brushing against the partygoers. It wasn’t that you disliked parties, exactly—it was just that the noise, the sheer volume of people could get overwhelming quickly.

“Just stay for an hour,” Emily pleaded. “Please? I swear it’ll be more fun than you think. We can dance, have a few drinks—”

“I don’t dance,” you cut in flatly, giving her a pointed look.

“Okay, fine, I’ll dance, and you… can hang out and people-watch,” she amended, undeterred. “Besides, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone.”

You gave her a withering stare.

“Yeah, because I’m such a social butterfly.”

You sighed, resigned to your fate, and began making your way through the press of bodies. You managed to find a relatively quiet corner in the back, near the stairs, and gratefully leaned against the wall.

Perhaps if you stayed out of sight long enough, Emily would give up on trying to get you to socialize and let you leave early. It was a long shot, but you could hope.

You hadn’t been there long when you felt it—the familiar prickling sensation of someone’s gaze lingering on you.

Rafe, in all his infuriating glory, leaning against the wall a few feet away. He looked unfairly good, dressed in a dark button-up that clung to his frame in all the right ways, his hair tousled enough to look effortlessly cool. And, as usual, he was watching you.

You narrowed your eyes at him, your stomach twisting in irritation and something else.

“Are you stalking me now?” you demanded, crossing your arms as you glared at him.

Rafe’s lips curved. “Would it be so bad if I was?”

“Yes,” you said, “It would be very bad.”

He chuckled, the sound low, sending an unwelcome shiver down your spine.

“Relax, princess. I just saw you standing here all alone and thought I’d come say hi.”

“Hi,” you muttered, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now you can leave.”

Instead, he straightened, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a two strides until he was standing directly in front of you.

You tried to step back, but the wall blocked your escape.

“Actually, I was thinking we could, hang out for a bit?” he suggested, tilting his head as he regarded you.

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Rafe blinked, seemingly taken aback by the question. “Why?”

“Yes,” you insisted, frustration growing inside you. “Why do you keep… doing this? Showing up, sitting with me, following me to lunch, acting like—like we’re friends or something. What is your deal, Cameron?”

Slowly he reached up, bracing one hand on the wall beside your head, leaning in so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“My deal,” he murmured, his voice smooth, “is that I like you.”

No. No, no, no.

That couldn’t be right, people didn't like you, they tolerated you, maybe, or found you useful sometimes, but they didn't like you, not in the way he was implying.

You felt panic rising in your chest.

“You’re lying,” you said shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re just—this is some kind of game, isn’t it? Some—some bet, or—”

Rafe’s expression tightened, “It’s not a game,” he ground out, his eyes flashing. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You swallowed hard, chest aching. This didn’t make sense.

“I don’t believe you,” you shook your head stubbornly.

His eyes narrowed, “No?”

“No,” you repeated, crossing your arms defiantly. “You’re just… you. You can’t just decide you like me out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t decide,” he murmured, “It just happened.”

Your breath hitched. Why was he doing this to you? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

“I—” You broke off, struggling to find words, but before you could answer, a loud voice interrupted.

“Yo, Rafe! There you are, man!”

You both jerked back, startled, and you glanced over to see one of Rafe’s friends—Topper, if you remembered correctly—stumbling over, a wide grin plastered across his face.

“What are you doing back here?” Topper slurred, his gaze sliding to you. He blinked, “Who’s this?”

Rafe stepped in front of you slightly, his posture tense and protective.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said curtly, “Go find someone else to bother.”

Topper blinked, taken aback. “Whoa, man, chill. I was just—”

“Go,” Rafe repeated, his tone brooking no argument.

Topper stared at him for a long moment, then slowly backed off, muttering under his breath as he disappeared into the crowd. As soon as he was gone, Rafe turned back to you, his eyes softening again.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured, “Didn’t mean to—”

“Why did you do that?” you cut in, your heart still pounding.

Rafe frowned. “Do what?”

“Get rid of him,” you said, shaking your head in confusion. “He was your friend. Why would you—”

Maybe you’d misread him, he didn’t mean any of what he said. He was probably bored, looking for some amusement—another toy to play with for a little while.

“I wanted to talk to you. Not him.”

You blinked, bewildered. “But he’s your friend.”

He gave a half-hearted shrug. “So? Doesn’t mean I want him interrupting us.”

Us. Like there was an “us.” Like there could ever be an “us.”

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. “But I don’t understand,” you mumbled. “I don’t get it. You don’t know me.”

“I know enough,” he said quietly, his eyes holding yours in a way that made it hard to breathe. “More than you think.”

You frowned.

It was impossible to ignorethe nagging feeling that he was just… playing with you, this was all some sick joke and at any moment, the punchline would hit, and you’d be the idiot.

“You’re messing with me,” you muttered, taking a small step to the side to put some space between you. “You’re bored or something.”

“I’m not bored,” he said firmly, stepping forward to close the gap you’d just created. “I told you, I wouldn’t do that.”

“I didn’t ask for this. You’ve been following me around, showing up where I am, saying all these things like—like we’re something, but we’re not.”

His eyes narrowed, not believing what he was hearing. “What are you talking about? You think I’m just messing around?”

“Yes!” you practically shouted, throwing your hands up. “Yes, I do! Why else would you be doing this? You’re Rafe Cameron, for god’s sake. You don’t even like me. This is just some twisted game to you, isn’t it?”

You stared at him, trying to read his face, find any hint of dishonesty, any sign that this was all an act. But all you saw was that same intensity. Panic kept grazing at you. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be.

People didn’t seek you out at parties or show up in libraries to talk about sociology. Guys like Rafe didn’t choose people like you.

There had to be some ulterior motive.

“You show up out of nowhere, act like I’m some project, some… someone who needs your protection—why, Rafe? Because I don’t fit into your world? Because I’m a joke to you and your friends?”

“That’s not it,” He growled, his voice defensive. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what I’m talking about?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You haven’t given me a reason to believe any of this.”

“You think I’m lying?

You moved your head again, harder this time.

“You’re—you’re saying things that don’t make sense. I don’t understand.”

He took a slow, poising breath, "What doesn't make sense to you?"

"All of this," you replied, your voice quivering with frustration, "You, acting like you—like you care. Like you see me. People don’t do that, not for someone like me. I don’t—" You cut yourself off, not sure how to finish the sentence, your thoughts spiraling.

It wasn’t just that you couldn’t believe him; it was that you didn’t know how to. Your experiences had taught you to be wary, always look for the catch, because there always was one.

Always.

Rafe's brows drawn together in something that almost looked like concern.

"Someone like you?" he repeated, "What does that even mean?"

You swallowed, feeling your insecurities gripping down on your chest.

"It means I’m not… like you. I don’t know how to talk to people, I don’t get things right all the time. People don’t notice me, and when they do, it’s usually because I’ve done something wrong, or because they want something from me. That’s just how it is."

He shook his head.

"That’s not how I see you."

You opened your mouth to argue, to dismiss what he was saying, to protect yourself from the disappointment that was sure to come.

Rafe didn’t give you the chance.

"So I’m messing with you because you’re not like everyone else? Is that it? You think I’m playing some kind of game because you don’t fit into some stupid idea of who’s supposed to matter?"

You wanted to recoil into the safety of your doubts, but something in his voice, in the way he was looking at you, made you stop.

"I’m not going to pretend like I know everything about you," Rafe continued, no less serious. "But I know enough to know that I like you. I don’t care if you don’t fit in with my world, or whatever you think that means. I like that you’re passionate about the things you care about. I like that you don’t put up with anyone’s shit—not even mine." A small, almost self-deprecating smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I’ve spent enough time around fake people to know the difference."

You weren’t used to this kind of sincerity. Part of you still wanted to push it away, reject it before it had a chance to hurt you. But another part of you—a much smaller, quieter part—was whispering that maybe he meant it.

"Why me?"

"Because you're you," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Cliché as fuck. So why were you shaking?

The two of you just stood there, the noise of the party fading while your mind was processing everything.

"I’m not… I’m not good at this," you admitted, "At understanding what people mean, or knowing if they’re being serious or not. I don’t know how to read you."

Rafe’s eyes softened even more at your confession, and he took a deep breath.

"I get that," he said quietly. "I’m not always great at this either. But I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you, not about this."

You wanted to believe him. But there was still that tiny voice of doubt in the back of your mind, reminding you of all the times you’d been wrong before, of all the times you’d trusted someone only to be let down.

You hesitated, "I don’t know if I can."

He didn’d demand anything from you, instead, he nodded.

"That’s okay. You don’t have to believe me right now. But I’ll be here when you’re ready."

With that, he stepped back, giving you the space you so desperately needed. That small, almost hopeful smile was gonna hunt you for the next days.

You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong about him after all.

350 notes · View notes

edamameimei · 2 months ago

Text

the sidelines (megan skiendiel x reader)

"watching the world from the sidelines, had nothing to prove. til' you came into my life, gave me something to lose."

synopsis: megan doesn't know much about the universe, but she does know she is very lucky to exist at the same time as you. tags: angst, a few fluff moments here n there. lots of talk abt philosophical things lol an: just want to put out there that this is not a REAL portrayal of the people mentioned in this fic. all events are fictional and are for entertainment purposes only. CW: reader has a medical condition. wc: 5333

⏯ now playing: sidelines - phoebe bridgers

Megan Skiendiel doesn’t know much about the stars and constellations. The amount she knows is only the Zodiac. She had basic knowledge of the subject and if anyone were to ask her about the different signs, she thinks she’d be able to give a decent description of them. She knows astronomers have provided their concepts of the constellations and storytellers well before her time have given them a meaning that many people have changed as those stories were passed down. Megan loves the stars. She can’t point out the shapes they form and she doesn’t know any of those stories, but she loves to stare at them.

She wonders as she stares at you in class, if you ever think about the stars. She wonders if you knew about the constellations and their stories.

She thinks, you probably do. You look like you do.

The class you two share is Intro to Philosophy.

It’s a required subject and to Megan, it’s a bit boring. A lot of reading that even her accommodations couldn’t help her manage. She doesn’t care to know what Socrates thinks about good versus evil, and she wasn’t even paying attention when they talked about Plato. She does know that you’re a good student. She often watches as you write notes quickly, listening to every word your professor says. You participate often, always raising your hand and giving an answer that didn’t make a lick of sense to Megan, but it always ends up being praised by their professor. The Chinese girl sometimes thinks about picking at your brain, wondering what other bit of knowledge it holds. But that requires her to interact with you.

So, she sits at her desk and shyly glances at you during the lecture. She hopes for the day you forget a pencil and may need to borrow one from her.

It ends up not being a pencil you need, but the notes from class on Thursday.

She lies, telling you she also was not in class that day. In reality, she was too busy sulking over the fact you weren’t there to take notes. Even if you were, she still wouldn’t have anything to provide. She wasn’t much of a notetaker, she just hoped for the best on the exam. You look at her, a bit disappointed. When you turn back around in your seat, Megan couldn’t help the frown forming on her lips. It was her first real interaction with you and it was so short. She is about to look back down at her notebook but you turn around again, a sheepish look on your face. “Can I borrow a pencil? Sorry, I’m a mess today.” Her eyes light up, immediately nodding. She hands you the only pencil she had and you smile at her, grateful. “Thanks, Megan.” You turn back around, continuing what you were doing, unaware of how red Megan’s cheeks were.

You knew her name.

The most surprising thing about you is that you’re always five minutes late to class.

With how prepared and diligent you are in the classroom, it shocks her every time you enter the room mid-lecture. You would walk in, an unreadable expression on your face as you walk toward your desk that is in front of Megan. She watches you put your stuff down and notices how you’re never in a hurry to unpack your notebook and pencil. It’s as if you were taking everything one step at a time, your mind checking off the boxes as you move throughout your day. Megan zones out, just looking at you. She widens her eyes when you turn around in your seat, handing her the pencil you were given last week.

You smile at her gently and whisper, “Sorry. I forgot to give this back to you.” Megan looks at the pencil, taking it from you. She bites her lip to try and contain the huge smile that wants to form. She looks at you and wonders if you notice the hearts in her eyes. She whispers, “Thank you.” You nod in response, turning back around to finally grab your notebook and pencil.

It was all simple, really. But Megan’s heart skips a beat every time she thinks about you smiling at her.

At one point during the lecture, her head finds the table comfortable, and falls asleep. She feels a light tap on her shoulder at the end of class and she slowly raises her head, confused. She looks around the room for the culprit and her tired eyes catch a glimpse of you exiting the room. She rubs her face with her hands and curses herself internally for falling asleep in class. She begins packing up her stuff, grabbing her laptop and blank notebook. Underneath her notebook were a couple of papers Megan had never seen before. She picks them up, trying to decipher what it was. She realizes they were the notes for today’s class.

At the top was the date, your initials, and the subject for today’s lecture.

Megan hates reading but she reads your notes about Existentialism like they were assigned to her.

In her defense, it was assigned. It just wasn’t her work. And she most definitely will not be opening her philosophy textbook to get a better understanding. She finds your handwriting very neat, easy to read. She thinks the way you cross your T’s and write your Y’s is adorable. On the sides, you write your own formulation of the information. It was as if you were talking to yourself, having your own conversation inside your head. On the very bottom of the page, in dark red ink, lays a question that makes Megan’s brow furrow.

‘Why do I exist?’

She hands you back your notes two days later in class. You smile at her softly, taking the notes from her. “I hope those were helpful.” Megan nods. She notices you wearing glasses today and she loves when you wear glasses. “They were so helpful. Thank you so much, Y/n.” You smile even wider at her, a chuckle escaping your lips. You say, “I hope they weren’t too messy, sometimes I get ahead of myself.” She shakes her head and gestures to your notes with an impressed look on her face. “No, they were so easy to understand, trust me.” You smile at her words, standing up to continue packing up your stuff. Megan stands awkwardly as she watches you, not knowing what else to say. She wants to continue talking to you but there is only so much to say with the little to no information she knows about you.

When you finish packing your stuff, you put your bookbag on, giving her one more glance. You wave, “I’ll see you next week, okay?” Before Megan could respond, you turned away, walking out of the classroom. She sighs.

A lightbulb goes off in Megan’s head one day when she looks down at her blank notebook during class.

She looks up and sees you packing your stuff up. She stands, leaning over her desk to tap on your shoulder. You turn to look at her and she notices the tired look in your eyes. She almost decides against asking you the question on her mind but she wills herself to be brave. She takes a deep breath, asking, “Can I… Use your notes again?” You look down at her blank notebook and chuckle, looking back up at her with a raised eyebrow. “Fell asleep again?” Megan shakes her head, feeling her cheeks heat with embarrassment. She replies, “No I just. I’ve never been a notetaker…” She looks down, feeling silly. She continues, “I have… I’m dyslexic. So, it’s kind of hard sometimes.” She knows it’s a bit ridiculous to use that as a way to talk to you but she has been feeling desperate the last few days.

There’s a pull toward you. It’s gravitating.

She looks up and sees you digging through your bag. She bites her lip when she watches you pull out of your notebook, handing it to her without a second thought. “Here. You can take it after every class from now on, okay?” Megan shakes her head and takes the notebook from your hands. “No, that’s okay. Just today.” She says shyly but you wave her off, zipping your bookbag. You swing it over your shoulder as you reply, “No, every time. It’ll motivate me to take better notes.” You wink at her before waving goodbye. “I’ll see you on Thursday, Megan.” She waves back, feeling frozen in place as she watches you exit the room. She looks down at the notebook in her hands and squeals quietly.

Apparently, absurdism was the topic of conversation in today’s class.

She reads through what you’ve written and she decides she hates the concept of this theory. It’s dark, pessimistic. Megan didn’t like the idea of the world not having meaning. And she can’t help but ask her own questions to counter the philosophers’. Why is it so absurd to add meaning to everything? Isn’t it human nature? To live with meaning, to find purpose in everything you do? How could you live life without the drive to find purpose? It was ridiculous. And Megan is glad you felt the same way. On the sides, like always, were your own thoughts and criticisms. She giggles at the frowny faces you drew, the poorly drawn thumbs down in response to a quote made by one of the fathers of absurdism.

She stares at a sentence you wrote down. It sits with her as if the weight of it also affected her in some way.

‘I have meaning. I have a purpose.’

She walks into the classroom on Thursday with your notebook in her hands. To her surprise, you were already at your desk. She walks up to you with a teasing smile. “You aren’t late today.” Her statement makes you laugh– a genuine laugh that makes you throw your head back. She places the notebook down on your desk and you look at her with a twinkle in your eyes. “Yeah. Just wanted to make sure I get everything for you.” Megan feels her heart beat rapidly in her chest. You came to class on time for her. A month has passed in the semester and you changed your habit for a complete stranger.

The words tumble out of her mouth before she can stop them, “Can I get your number?” Her cheeks burn with embarrassment but the kind smile you give her eases the anxiety. You nod, pulling out your phone and handing it to her. “I was going to ask you after class today but you beat me to it.” Megan tries to keep her cool, nodding frantically. She puts her phone number into your contacts and saves it under the name, ‘Megan from Philosophy.’ She hands your phone back to you. “I agree with your notes,” She says quietly, she continues, “Like, your sidenotes. I agree with them and… I was hoping we could talk about it?” There’s a hopeful look in Megan’s eyes. She hopes she isn’t coming off as desperate, that’s the last thing she would want from this interaction.

You open your mouth to respond but your professor walks in. Megan quickly walks to her seat, her cheeks still burning. She berates herself internally for being so weird. At some point during the lecture, she feels her phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulls it out subtly, checking the notification. She smiles widely at the message on the screen.

You texted her: “Let’s do it. I’ll text you after I’m done with classes today.”

You text her: “Absurdism. Thoughts. Go.”

She replies: “I think everyone has a purpose. Like, I think that’s what makes life so much fun.”

You text her: “Yes. Yes. I agree 100%.”

She replies: “Absurdism is absurd!!!!”

She texts again: “Sorry. That was stupid.”

You reply: “You said what you said.”

You text her again: “Absurdism was created by cowards. I love making meanings out of everything.”

And again: “Do you wanna go to the library with me tomorrow?”

She replies: “Yes.”

Megan meets you in the library.

She finds you already sitting at a table with your headphones on. You’re typing on your laptop, clearly zoned in on the assignment you were working on. Megan approaches you slowly, not wanting to startle you. She sets her stuff down and pulls out a chair in front of you. When she sits down, you finally look up from your laptop with a tired smile. You take your headphones off, setting them on the table. “Hey there,” you say softly. Megan waves at you before pulling out her laptop along with her notebook and pencil case. Your eyes light up at it. It had the Sanrio characters on it, all of them wearing cute little ballpark hats. Megan watches as you pick it up, analyzing it with bright eyes. “This is so fucking cute.” Your statement makes the Chinese girl laugh.

She would have never taken you as a Sanrio person.

You set it down, an adorable smile still on your face. It makes Megan melt at the thought of you liking such cute things. She wonders what else you like, she wonders what kind of music you listen to. She wonders if you have any thoughts on the secrets the universe may hold.

She settles for asking you what kind of music you like. It’s less of a mouthful.

Conversation with you is easy. She finds herself laughing at everything you say, smiling during all of your stories. In return, Megan shares bits and pieces of herself with you. She tells you about about her friends on campus, how she chose her major. Megan shares things with you that she hasn’t talked about in a long time. After rambling for so long, she would pause to look at you, as if scared you had become disinterested. But you keep your attentive gaze. The same smile you had before stays on your lips. Megan felt seen by you, a feeling she doesn’t get often. After two hours, you two finally decide to work on your assignments.

Megan looks at you as if you created the stars, handcrafted them, and placed them all over the sky with purpose. She looks at you as if you hold all the answers to the world. She only met you this semester but she can’t help but feel she has known you her entire life. You’re unaware of her staring as you check the time on your watch and for some reason, Megan chuckles. It catches your attention, making you look up to see the Chinese girl attempting to cover her small smile with her hand. You look at her curiously. “What’s so funny?” She points at your watch, her tone playful, “Do you forget to put that on when we have Philosophy class?”

She notices the way your cheeks redden. You look away, rubbing the back of your neck. “I’m… Well, usually, on the days we have Philosophy…. I have to go to the school clinic right before,” you clear your throat before continuing, “I have a heart condition.” Megan’s heart drops to her stomach at your words and she immediately begins to feel bad for the joke she previously made. You notice her expression and shake your head. “It’s nothing serious. Don’t worry, honestly.”

Whenever you’re late to class, Megan now finds herself worrying about you.

Today, she watches you walk into class looking more tired than usual. She tries not to overanalyze you but she can’t help it. Her eyes follow you until you sit down. You don’t even reach down to pull out your notebook and pencil, simply putting your head down on the desk. She looks at you and she wishes she could ask how your appointment went. She wants to ask what you do at the clinic. But she isn’t sure if she was there yet with you. Everything with you so far has only been surface level and she wants so much more than that. Megan looks up at the board and sees a question written on it:

‘Is happiness the answer?”

Megan leans back in her seat. For the first time since the semester started, she takes the time to listen to her professor.

At the end of class, Megan walks over to your desk. She taps you on the shoulder and you look up with wide eyes. You sit up immediately, rubbing your face with your hands. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” The apology tumbles out of your mouth quickly. You’re about to say something else but Megan places a note in front of you on your desk. Written on it was the question from earlier and you stare at it in confusion. You whisper, “Is this what we did today?” You look up at Megan again and she smiles warmly. She nods, “I actually paid attention today. Wanna walk with me on the quad and I can explain it to you? I don’t know how good I’d be at it but–” You stand up, grabbing your bag. You look at her with a twinkle of excitement in your eyes and it makes Megan’s heart beat quickly in her chest.

Oh, to make you look at her like that again. Forever, maybe.

You two make a habit of discussing the topic of the day after class now.

Megan finds you fascinating. The way you articulate everything so passionately, the way your brain makes connections to previous things told in the lecture, everything about you was so profound.

Today was a Thursday and you find yourselves lying on the grass on the quad.

Megan looks at you as if you were the only thing worth paying any attention to. She counts the freckles on your cheek, she loves the way your lips curl into a smile when you have a funny thought to share. She still thinks about asking you about the stars and constellations but she isn’t sure if it’s the right time yet. This moment with you was hers, and she wants to stick it in a locket as a keepsake forever. Without looking at her, you speak up, “You know the real question I’d like an answer to?” She smiles, whispering, “What?”

“Does pineapple belong on pizza?” Megan giggles loudly, not expecting that question from you. She covers her mouth, her eyes turning into crescents as she continues laughing. For some reason, the randomness of it makes her stomach hurt with laughter. You join her, your cheeks hurting as you smile widely. As you both finally calm down, she glances at you again, a playful look in her eyes. “Are you being serious?” You nod, furrowing your brows, “Megan. I’m being very serious. These are the real questions those stupid white guys needed to ask.”

The Chinese girl laughs again, her hand finding your shoulder to brace herself. She smiles at you with her whiskered dimples, responding through her giggles, “Those stupid white guys… It’s always a stupid white guy.” You nod in agreement, looking back up at the sky. At some point, you shifted closer to Megan, your shoulders touching. Megan’s breath catches in her throat when you turn your head towards her again, your noses only inches apart. You whisper, “So, does it? Pineapple on pizza?” She lets out a breathy laugh, her eyes looking into yours. Her fingertips brush against your hand and she wants more than anything to connect them. To feel that spark of electricity she knew would be there. Your skin is soft and she wonders if you’ve thought about her like she thinks about you.

“I think it does.”

You scrunch your nose, sitting up from the grass. She watches as you grab your bag and she can’t help but laugh at your dramatics. “Y/n!” She says through her giggles. You bite your lip trying to contain your smile as you stand to your feet. Megan copies your actions, a wide smile on her face. When she grabs your wrist, she proves herself right. There’s a spark that sends shivers down her spine and when you turn to look at her, she wonders if you feel it too.

She tilts her head, her eyes softening as she asks, “Can I wait for you at the clinic next week?”

There’s a silence between you two. Her hand is still around your wrist and your eyes speak silently to each other. You blink at her as if waiting for her to take back what she said. But she doesn’t. She waits, patiently for an answer.

You nod, replying, “My appointments are always at 9:30 AM, Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

Next Tuesday Megan is sitting on the bench in front of the school clinic at 9:15 AM. You stop in your tracks when you see her, your eyes wide. You didn’t think she would actually come. Megan stands up from the bench when she notices you, waving excitedly.

She doesn’t know this, but your thoughts run wild. The grip you had on the straps of your bookbag loosens and it scares you.

She texts you: “How are you so smart?”

You reply: “I’m not that smart. Philosophy is just interesting to me.”

She texts you: “I need your brain.”

You reply: “I like your brain.”

She texts you: “I don’t think like you do.”

You reply: “But I like the way you think.”

You text her again: “What is your favorite thing to do?”

She replies: “Dancing. And making music.”

She texts you again: “How about you?”

You reply: “Being alive.”

You text her again: “I also really like going on walks.”

When you walk out of the clinic on yet another Thursday, Megan stands outside with a cup of coffee in one hand and a cup of match in the other. You look at the green drink with raised eyebrows, “Is that matcha?” She nods, forcing it into your hands. “Yeah. I looked it up and even though it doesn’t have as much caffeine as coffee, it still gives you the energy you need.” You look at her, still confused. Megan sighs, walking ahead of you. She doesn’t want to look at you as she talks, “You said you’re always so tired after your appointments but you can’t drink too much caffeine so… I thought that would be the best alternative,” She continues, feeling her cheeks burning with embarrassment, “I know some people hate matcha but I don’t know. If you hate it just let me know so–” She feels your hand on her arm. You spin her around, wrapping your arms around her tightly.

She widens her eyes, not responding at first. She stands awkwardly for a moment in your arms, her hand clutching her coffee cup. After her mind finally catches up to her, she hugs you back, her arms around your neck. She buries her face into your shoulder, the scent of whatever perfume or cologne you put on filling her senses. She notices how warm you are, hugging you even tighter. You whisper, “Thank you, Megan.” She can’t help but notice how vulnerable you sound. Your voice was hoarse and there was a tinge of sadness to your tone. Megan was never the best at words, so she just held you. After a while, you finally pull away, your eyes glistening with tears.

You had been crying.

Megan reaches up and wipes your cheeks with her thumbs. She asks, “You’re not a matcha person, are you?” You laugh shakily. You sniffle as you shake your head but you still bring the cup to your lips, sipping the drink. You grimace but you quickly wipe it away, hooking an arm around Megan’s neck as you continue walking to class. By the time you get to class, you finish your matcha. You throw away the cup with a satisfied smile on your face.

“Is memory enough to prove existence?”

You and Megan sit with each other in your apartment, staring at the question for your essay. You look at her as if asking what she thought about it. She raises her hands in defense, “Don’t look at me. You’re the one who actually likes this class.” You roll your eyes, chuckling. You lean forward, grabbing your laptop off of your coffee table. “I never said I liked the class. I said I think philosophy is interesting.” She scoffs and gives you a pointed look, “That’s the same thing, isn’t it?” You shake your head and lean back against your couch. You stare at your computer screen, deep in thought. Megan leans her shoulder against the couch, propping her head up with her hand. She studies you like she always does. She smiles as she watches your glasses begin to slide off the bridge of your nose.

She reaches over and fixes them. She asks, “Well, yes or no? Is memory enough?” You quickly respond as you type something on your laptop, “Yes, of course it is.” You look away from the screen, your brows furrowed and your lips pursed. “But I don’t think I agree enough to write like 5 pages about it…” You groan, closing your laptop shut. You shift your body, mimicking the way Megan sits. You both look at each other in silence, not saying a word. It isn’t until you snort, covering your mouth as you laugh. Megan looks at you, giggling, “What?!” You shake your head, zipping your lips as if what you thought about was confidential. Megan swats your arm, glaring.

“Wait! Tell me!” You shake your head again, shrugging your shoulders. Megan feels her cheeks heat up. From the first moment she heard you speak in class, she wanted to know every single thing that went through your head. She wanted to know if you often thought about the universe like she did. She watched you from afar for months and she would be damned if she didn’t get to be inside your head just this once. She launches herself at you. She only intended to grab your shoulders, but instead finds herself toppling on top of you.

She widens her eyes, looking down at you. She’s sure she is as red as her hair and she knows she should get off but you don’t make a move to push her either. You just stare at each other, wide-eyed. She breaks the silence, her voice shaky, “Do you know anything about the stars and constellations?” She says it so quickly that you almost don’t understand her. You tilt your head, an amused smile on your face. You reach up and tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear as you whisper, “What?” Megan giggles nervously, she looks away from you for a moment, biting her lip. When she looks back at you, she takes a deep breath. “Do you like. Know anything about the stars and constellations? Like… What they mean and stuff.”

You look up at her, a warm smile on your face. You say, “I don’t actually. Do you?”

Megan shakes her head, her smile getting wider as she responds, “No. Not at all.” She glances at your lips and whispers, “I’d like to learn though.” She looks up from your lips to your eyes. Your hand reaches up to cup her cheek, not breaking her gaze. As Megan’s eyes flutter close, as she leans in closer, you whisper, “We can learn together.”

She texts you: “How many pages do you have now?”

You reply: “Megan it has only been 30 mins.”

She texts you: “Well I have 3 so.”

You: reply: “Me when I’m a liar.”

She texts you: “Yeah I like lying.”

She texts you again: “At least I don’t have to write the whole five pages.”

You reply: “Two, right?”

She texts you: “Yeah. You’re a loser.”

You reply: “Try asking for my notes tomorrow, Ms. Skiendiel.”

She texts you: “I will literally fail the class without you don’t do that to me.”

But, you don’t show up to class.

And you don’t answer her texts asking where you are.

She usually meets you outside the clinic but today you had an early appointment at 7:30 AM and you had to beg her to not show up. You told her to get rest and that you’d see her in class.

But you aren’t in class. You were nowhere to be found.

Megan doesn’t know the topic for today. All she could think about was you.

Your grip was always on the handle of a suitcase. It waited to be packed and loaded into a car to go to its next destination. You always found it easier to be the first one to leave. Staying in the same spot for far too long always puts you in distress. When you were younger, you always groaned and wept about standing in the grocery line with your mother. The days when you were able to frolic amongst the dandelions in the springtime were your greatest memories. Your soul was vibrant yet quiet at the same time.

Quiet enough for you to sneak out the back door. So quiet, you were always able to leave without a trace. It was less painful that way– to leave.

When you were told about your condition, it didn’t phase you much. You saw it as another way to live your life with no strings attached. You were okay with never leaving a mark on this world. As long as it left an impression on you, you were satisfied. Sure, college weighed you down but you treated it as a side quest. The real adventure was what life had ahead and you were ready more than anything to take it into your hands and call it your own. You planned to coast through college, give your best in everything you did, and leave without a footprint to say, ‘I was here.’

The funny thing though, is that you didn’t take into account that you would meet someone like Megan Skiendiel.

And then suddenly leaving became hard. The thought of never seeing her again made your body go cold.

The grip on the handle of the suitcase loosened. Every time she looked at you, you felt like you were in a field of dandelions. Perhaps if you made a wish right now on one, its rays would whisper her name, almost pleading. If you could plant yourself anywhere, it would be wherever she was. That night in your apartment, as you looked at her, you realized you had found an answer.

The proof of existence was being loved. And there was one thing your condition couldn’t take from you– the ability to love someone back just as much.

Megan doesn’t fail the class.

In her essay, she writes about you. She could have written an entire book about you but she settles for the 5 pages. She writes about you and your ideas of the world. She writes her essay as if she had been paying attention the entire time. She remembers your sidenotes, the little drawings next to them. She mentions the irony of how being alive was one of your favorite things to do.

When she gets her essay back, at the top right-hand corner is an ‘A+’ written in red ink.

She smiles. She doesn’t care what those white guys say, this was enough to prove you exist.

Megan Skiendiel still doesn’t know much about the stars and the constellations. But she does know that you didn’t either. Out of all the questions she had this semester, she’s glad that was the one she got the answer to. And with all the answers she was given, that one was her favorite.

a/n: i took a philosophy class last quarter, can yall tell? lol n e ways. hope u all enjoyed, lmk what u think!

requests are open

#katseye x reader #katseye imagines #megan skiendiel #daniela avanzini #manon bannerman #lara raj #sophia laforteza #jeong yoonchae #katseye #megan skiendiel x reader

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lovelettersfromluna · 1 year ago

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yk how in one of your girls Ellie mentioned she got off to reader and was thinking abt her all day while she was gone… can u plz plz plz writing something about Ellie rubbing one out to reader OR OR writing one of Ellie’s solo vids since she said she did solo when Julia left.. I just love seeing Ellie pleasure herself I need it so bad..

an: I literally have a paper that I need to write that’s due TONIGHT but I’m doing this first because it’s more important 😌

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+, MDNI, solo!ellie, fingering, horny!Ellie, dirty talk, Ellie fantasizes about reader, this all takes place in the second chapter of my camgirl!Ellie series, Ellie has sensitive nipples bc I said so, pure smut with little plot, slight sugarmommy!Ellie if you squint??, lmk if I missed anything!

Ellie was bored out of her fucking mind.

She was always bored when you were at work, to be honest, but she usually had Julia to entertain her. She would usually text or call her, invite her over to get a quick video in, anything to fill up the time where the apartment was void of you.

That was out of the question now.

She tried everything. She tried making herself something to eat, which she ended up burning. She tried watching tv, but there was nothing on that she liked. She tried playing video games, which resulted in her screaming at some fucking incel half way across the world for being a fucking idiot. Hell, she even tried putting herself down for a nap like she was a child, which once again failed.

Ellie was getting antsy, wanting nothing more than to just be with you, be in your presence. And that's fine, because you and her are friends! It has nothing to do with the fact that ever since you had agreed to being her temporary partner, she couldn't seem to get you out of her mind.

That wasn't it at all...

She let out a gentle huff of annoyance, seemingly the hundredth one for the day, as she got up from the couch in the living room and made her way to her bedroom.

Ellie fell back into the soft comforter on her bed, a gentle sigh leaving her lips as she stared up at the ceiling for a moment before she turned over to grab her phone to check the time, which only made her groan out in frustration.

You wouldn't be home for another four hours.

This had to be some kind of cruel and unusual punishment, why were you still even working! Ellie had told you time and time again that she was making more than enough to support the both of you, and now you were even entitled to it! You were helping her bring it in! She hated how stubborn you were when it came to the topic.

She just wanted to take care of you...

You deserved to be spoiled. You spent so much of your time at the record store, slaving away to posers who usually belittled you for being a woman in the music business, wanted to get into your pants, or both, and she hated it, she always had.

She fantasized about never letting you lift a finger, always telling you that she would take care of it. Ellie never wanted you to worry your pretty little head about anything, regardless of if you agreed to make content with her or not.

Ellie would never say it out loud, but the idea of spoiling you made her weak in the fucking knees.

And she isn't entirely sure how it lead to her hand resting on her waist, toying with the sliver of skin thats peeking out between the hem of her t shirt and the waistband of her sweatpants, slender fingers slowly creeping beneath them as her hazy, lust filled eyes stare down at her own legs splayed out on her bed...

Although she is sure of how it happened, she knows that with thoughts of spoiling you, come other thoughts of you, because suddenly she's thinking of you settled between her legs, wide eyes staring up at her, eager to please, wet tongue lapping at her soaking wet core, pretty lips wrapped around her throbbing clit.

Or maybe she's thinking of something else, maybe she's thinking about you straddling her, bouncing on her cock, back arched as the sweet sound of your pretty moans fill up her room, paired with the noise of your skin slapping against her own. She can practically feel your soft, supple skin spilling out from under her large hands, she can't help but feel and squeeze whenever you're around.

And suddenly, Ellie isn't so bored after all.

Because her sweatpants are long gone, tugged off and throw somewhere in her room along with her soaked boxers. Her t shirt it pushed up, revealing her perky tits and pebbled nipples, the cold air in her room alone making them harden, making her hiss as her skilled fingers work on her soaked core.

She isn't laying down anymore, instead she's propped up a bit, her back resting against her pillows, eyebrows furrowed as her fingers work on her clit, abusing the poor sensitive numb as she rolls sharp circles into it. Ellie was never careful with herself, not like she was with you. She liked being rough when it came to her own weeping pussy, making it all red and sore, sopping wet and begging for more.

"A-ahh...f-fuck...just like that baby...mmhh...right there...dont fucking stop.." She groaned out, eyebrows furrowed, freckled cheeks flushed.

Ellie always prided herself on her filthy mouth. She could feel the way your pussy fluttered around her fingers or her tongue whenever she said something particularly dirty, so of course when thinking about you, her words didn't cease.

Her head fell back against her pillow when she pushed two fingers into her drooling pussy, a long, loud string of moans leaving her swollen lips as she called out for you, your name becoming her own personal chant as her eyes fluttered shut..

"Fuuuuckkk...that's it baby...f-fuck....fuckin' take it...thats it...thats my good girl" She shuttered out, struggling to form full sentences as she brought her eyes back down to the mess between her legs.

She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, one of her hands coming up and ghosting over her hard nipple, making her whine softly before she pinched it, making her eyes wince as she thrusted her hips up to meet her fingers, wanting them to go deeper into her weeping core.

Ellie let the images of you run through her head. She imagined you on top of her, grinding your perfect pussy onto hers. She imagined you underneath her, your ass bouncing against her thrusts as she fucked her cock into you, drilling you from behind.

But what really did it? Was imagining that her fingers, were yours.

"M'gonna....you're gonna make me fucking cum...o-oh my god...yeah...yeah right there....fuckfuckfuckfuck!" Ellie called out, her back arching as she felt her orgasm right there on the edge, the feeling she was chasing after dangling right over her head, so close she could practically fucking taste it...

Practically taste you.

Ellie screamed out your name, her hair messy as she pressed her head further into the pillow, her orgasm washing over her so intensely, it was almost fucking painful.

She struggled to catch her breath, hazy eyes staring down at her hand as she slowly rubbed her clit, riding out her orgasm as soft little hums and moans left her lips, almost liking the overwhelming feeling of sensitivity that came after she orgasmed.

Ellie sighed softly, looking over at her phone and checking the time, seeing that she still had a little less than four hours until you got home.

A little less than four hours to do what she just did, over and over again.

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

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wsknbfanaccnt · 6 months ago

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I’m so glad I found you cuz my obsession with knb suddenly decided to come back😭 anyway can you please do how they act seeing someone hurts their s/o please and thank youuu🫶🏻🫶🏻

YESSS omfg im actually the same way, my obsession came back recently LMFAO

thats how it is with our lil hyperfixations ugh which is why im writing a lot (especially abt Akashi<3)

anyways I LOVE THIS REQUEST okay i cant wait I LOVE WRITING THIS KIND OF TROPE AAAAAAAAAAA

and i realized i havent written scenarios in so long dayum

thank you for requesting!! i hope you enjoy it and feel free to request more <333

Someone hurts their s/o

TW!: violence, abusive ex, strangulation

You stayed behind in class for a while after school, talking to your teacher about a few questions you had in class. As a result, your beautiful boy went off to practice by himself and you two agreed to meet at the gym. Little did you know, your abusive ex was waiting right in the halls by the gymnasium. As you made your way there, he jumped out in front of you with a smirk.

"Hey there, (y/n)." Immediately you stepped back, fear overcoming you.

"H-Hi... what are you doing here..?" you asked quietly, trying to find a way to call out to your boyfriend.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm here to take you back. I miss you," he hissed, his voice dipped in poisoned honey.

"Um- I have a boyfriend now... sorry, I gotta go-" you said quickly, hoping to just shove him away and go to the comfort of your boyfriend's arms. But he wouldn't have that. As you started to walk he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him, taking a fistful of your hair and slamming you onto the wall. You cried out loudly in pain.

Inside the loud gymnasium, where no one else would’ve heard, your boyfriend caught the sound of your voice.

Your ex grabbed your throat and pinned you to the wall, cutting off your air. You tried to pull his hands off of your neck but you were losing oxygen quickly, and you could feel yourself getting weaker by the second.

"I don't care... you're mine. And I can make you mine again."

"Please let go of my girlfriend." a voice suddenly echoed, making the guy jolt. He took your hand off of your neck in surprise, you dropping to the ground as you coughed and gasped for air.

"Who was that?!" He looked around, ready to fight. But there was no one there. Kuroko had already rushed to you, taking your hands in his with worry in his eyes.

"Oh no (y/n)... are you okay?" Kuroko asked with worry in his eyes, gently wiping off the blood on your forehead. Amidst your coughing you managed to croak out a weak "yes", trying to catch your breath. When your ex finally noticed you and Kuroko on the ground, he growled in annoyance.

"Hey! You're interrupting something here!"

"Please leave us alone. You've already hurt her enough." Kuroko hissed. Slowly you lifted your head, catching the expression on his face.

You've never see him so angry.

Even your ex noticed this, the rage that was emitting from the blue-haired teen.

"Jesus- I was just playing around...." he brushed it off, stepping back from the scene and leaving in a rush. Kuroko took a deep breath, shaking his head.

"You need to get to the infirmary (y/n)... can you walk?" he asked softly, putting aside the hair that blocked your eye.

"I-I think so..."

"Then let's go," he said with determination, standing up and reaching a hand to you to help you stand.

"Thank you Kuroko-kun..."

"Of course, (y/n)-chan. I'll always be here to protect you."

"Kuroko-kun?"

"Hm?"

"Why did you show up here alone? I know you know that you couldn't have handled him by yourself..."

"Yes I know... Have you seen these guns?" he gestured to his bicep. You chuckled softly, the two of you making your way to the infirmary.

"You dare lay a hand on my woman?" Akashi seethed. From the looks of it he could almost shoot lasers out of his heterochromatic eyes, approaching the two of you.

"S-Sei..." you croaked out, tears welling up in your eyes as you tried to stay conscious. From his mere voice your ex jolted, turning his head to look at Akashi. Pure bloodlust was radiating from him, and it didn't take longer for the man to release his grip on you.

"Shit- fine! Just- get away from me!" your ex panicked, feeling as if he was about to get eaten by a lion any second. He then ran off, leaving you on the ground.

"(Y/N)...!" Seijuro quickly lifted you into his arms, holding you protectively as he checked on you. You were coughing and wheezing, trying to get as much oxygen back as possible as you held your neck in pain.

"Shh... breathe, my love. Slowly now, deep breaths," he guided you as you calmed down, and eventually you were breathing normally again.

"I should have gotten here sooner... I apologize, my love. I will never allow that to happen again." He said, determined. Akashi stood up with you in his arms, making his way to the infirmary.

"Thank you for saving me Sei..." you croaked shyly, your voice hoarse.

"Do not strain yourself, my love. I will keep you safe."

"What about practice...?"

"Nonsense. You are my priority."

Bonus:

The next morning you saw on the news that a man who was an abuser was taken to jail the previous night. When you saw Akashi at school, you decided to approach him about it.

"Hey, Sei... about my ex..."

"Not to worry, my love. Shall we go to class?" he said rather cheerfully, clearly trying to change the subject.

"Oi!!" Midorima hissed at him, gripping the lucky item in his hand; a glass paperweight.

"Seriously? This guy is your boyfriend? What a dork. What do you even have in your hand?" he laughed, looking between the two of you.

"Let her go, nanodayo."

"Hmm... how about no?" your ex teased, squeezing your neck even tighter. Before he could do anything else, the glass paperweight was thrown at his head. It shattered into pieces as it came in contact, letting you go as you fell to the floor.

Midorima was quick, though, and he caught you just before your head hit the ground. You held your neck in pain, coughing and gagging as you regained your breath. He gently moved your hand aside to inspect your neck, which had black and blue bruises already forming.

"Tsk... (your zodiac sign) came in last today, nanodayo. I only left you for a second and-" he was cut off by you, throwing your arms around him as tightly as you could. Midorima pursed his lips, holding you gently but protectively. A chill ran down his spine, realizing you were shaking.

"That was so scary.." you muttered quietly, hiding your face in his neck. He might not be good at comforting you verbally, but he knew what else he could do. He hugged you tighter, a hand behind your head and stroking your hair gently.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, Midorima letting you calm down in his arms. If there was anything that helped you settle, it was him.

Bonus:

Eventually you calmed down, taking a deep breath as you lifted your head up. The first thing that you saw was Midorima's emerald eyes looking at you with worry. The second thing was your ex, unconscious on the floor.

"Um... what are we gonna do about him?"

"I've been trying to find a solution for that this whole time, nanodayo."

"What the fuck are you doing to my girlfriend, asshole!?" immediately Aomine ran in for a punch, his knuckles landing on your ex's cheek. He cried out in pain, letting you go to get ready for the fight. You fell to your knees, coughing and whimpering in pain.

"You wanna fight, huh? I'll fight you." your ex threatened, cracking his knuckles. But before he could do anything else Aomine landed another punch on him, this time landing on his jaw. With a spin he dropped down to the floor, unmoving.

"You'll pay for that..." he clicked his tongue, rushing to you.

"Oh shit- oh fuck! Hey- breathe!!" Aomine panicked as he saw you, on your fours and wheezing from your injury.

"Come here, just uh- sit down and relax for a bit. That should help, right??" he said, pulling you to him. You sat between his legs, leaning against him as he supported you with his arms. You gasped for air, struggling to catch your breath and fill your lungs.

"Hey just- relax, okay? I got you- I'm here..." Aomine whispered in your ear as an attempt to calm you down and make you better. But uncontrollable tears started to stream down your face, hiding yourself in Aomine's chest. A sharp pang of pain shot through him as he saw you in such a state, hating every moment of it.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry... I'm here with you now, okay? I'll make that fucker pay for what he did to you..." he hissed, hugging you as if shielding you from the world.

"I-I thought I w-was gonna die...! I a-almost blacked out- and... and I couldn't do anything...! I c-couldn't call you...!"

"But you didn't, (y/n). You're here, you're safe. You're alive, and you're with me. You're okay.." he sighed, hugging you tightly. He stood up, carrying you in his arms bridal style.

"Cmon... let's just go home." you agreed for once and nodded, wanting nothing but his presence right now.

"Hey! Get your hands off my girl ssu!!" he shouted at the man, who turned to him and smirked.

"Oho? You managed to score a fucking model?" he turned back to you, laughing a bit as he squeezed your neck even harder. You clawed at his hand and arm, trying to get his grip off of you. But very soon your vision started to obscure and you started to see black.

"That's unfortunate, hmm?" he cooed, watching as you went limp, your hands falling to your side. Kise widened his eyes, rushing to the man and swinging a punch at him. But he dodged it, releasing his grip on you as you fell to the floor.

"You think you can hurt her and get away with it?!" he snarled. Kise grabbed his shirt and punched him hard in the gut and then in the face, with a speed that even your ex couldn't register. The blonde rushed to your side, picking you up gently and holding you.

"H-Hey- (y/n)...! Wake up ssu...!" he panicked, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. Kise put a finger under your nose, a wave of relief washing over him as he felt your breathing. Out of nowhere, Kasamatsu came into the scene, yelling at the blonde.

"Where the hell have you been?! Practice started 10 minutes ago!! What the hell is-" but he was silenced as he saw the scene.

"I'm not going to practice today, Kasamatsu-senpai."

"Then what the fuck are you still doing here?? Go to the infirmary!!" he hissed, pointing at the direction of where you were supposed to go. Kise nodded and carried you, rushing to the nurse's office with you in his arms.

"Hey... that's my (y/n)!!" the purple haired giant hissed, approaching the two of you as he growled in anger.

"A-Atsushi..." you gasped, trying to loosen your ex's grip off of your neck. But your ex in suddenly let go of you, cowering in fear of the mere height of your boyfriend.

"Never touch my (y/n) again!!" he bellowed, his anger echoing through the halls. Your ex cried out in fear, immediately running away from you two.

You sat up and leaned against the wall, catching your breath and holding your neck in pain.

"(Y/N)...!" your boyfriend pouted, kneeling down and pulling you into his arms suddenly, hugging you tightly from behind.

"S-Sushi..." you chuckled slightly, but whimpering in pain. Your voice was hoarse, and it hurt to talk.

"(Y/N)... that was so scary... you're so fragile..." Murasakibara pouted, ruffling your hair and resting his chin on the top of your head. You pursed your lips, snuggling against your giant's hold.

"It's okay (y/n)... I made the bad guy go away. You're okay now.." he said quite childishly, hugging you tighter. You appreciated it nonetheless, smiling softly as you hid yourself within Murasakibara's arms.

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