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ohcaptains · 1 year

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don’t you dare fall in love | 3

pairing. dealer college student! ellie williams x f! reader

PART ONE. PART TWO. MASTERLIST. synopsis. ellie tries her hardest not to mix business with pleasure. or, ellie gets a new customer and unfortunately falls in love with her.

warnings. 18+. blank & ageless blogs will be blocked. clichè comments on sorority girls (sorry), sexually explicit descriptions of female receiving cunnilingus, fondling, fingering, and dry humping. not beta’d.

an. well here ya go! thank u to all those who were so patient and lovely with me<3 to those who weren’t and were mean to me...i’m giving you the nastiest dirty look rn. pls comment and reblog!!!! love u.

When Ellie gets out of her meeting with her personal tutor, she’s just about ready to throw herself down the stairs.

Catapult herself out of the window and perish on the campus floor. That way, she wouldn’t have to rewrite this God. Damn. Essay.

It sucks that she has to do actual work to get her degree, but what sucks even more, is doing the work and being told you’ve done it all wrong.

At first, Ellie was angry. Now, she’s frustrated. Tired. Was up all night writing this essay because she’s been waiting for this meeting for a whole week, and all the man did was say, you’re not actually answering the question.

“Fucking asshole,” she murmurs, pushing through the doors.

She reaches the quiet hallway of the humanities block, the dilapidated building stuffy with age. She misses her uber-funded science building. Misses the cool white and sleek edges. Here, there’s paper covering everything.

The hallways go round and round – lift creaks from the weight of students carrying War and Peace in their backpacks, year after year.

She’s near tears when she hears you calling her name.

“Els?” you ask, tone confused and edged with excitement. Ellie’s heart does its little familiar leap. She turns to you, sniffing the tears away. It’s been a minute since she saw you in the flesh. Her body aches, eager to touch you. “Hey,” she greets, the presence of you brightening her mood for a sweet second. You’re wearing a casual pair of black jeans and a band tee – Ellie owns a similar one, and for a moment, she thinks you’re wearing her shirt. “I was just about to text you –” you start, but your face twists, noticing hers. “You okay?” “Yeah,” Ellie lies. The tears push harder now, your concern making her belly flop.

You frown. “No, you’re not.”

Her lip wobbles.

“Ellie?” “Sorry, just – fuck --” her eyes are rimmed red, tears pushing over the edge. “—had a really shitty meeting with my tutor about my essay that’s worth like, 50% of my grade and I’m so busy with other work and—” a tear slips down her cheek, but you’re quick to take her in your arms, murmuring, “oh, Els,” as you cup her head and pull it into your neck.

She releases a breath, leaning her full weight into your body.

You smell like laundry detergent and coffee. Smell familiar. She’s comfortable here. It’s why she lets herself begin to cry against your shoulder.

“Awh, sweetheart,” you whisper, hands running up and down her back, soothing her like a baby.

“What did the feedback say?” “Have to change the whole thing. And I have enough time, but I have other work.” “Yeah, I can imagine.” “He basically said that if I submit this essay, I’ll fail.” “Well, you won’t, because I’ll hack into the system and change your grade for you.”

Ellie hiccups a laugh, “you know nothing about computers.” “I’ll learn for you. Take some night classes. What’s the essay for?” you ask, still rubbing her back. “English.” “I can help you if you want.” “Yeah?” “Yeah, come to mine. I’ll look through the question with you, and help you plan.”

Ellie pulls away, wiping her wet, red-rimmed eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie. You help her, drying the dampness from her chin and cheeks, and smoothing her hair behind her ears.

She beams from your touch. Her body goes hot from your care -- belly flips over.

You hold her shoulders, keeping her steady, and Ellie thanks the Gods you texted her that day. Your smile is resolute as you say, “It’ll be okay. We got this.”

When you open the door to your accommodation, Ellie is mid panic attack. “You live in a sorority?” she squeaks. When you sent her the address earlier, she hadn’t really read it, too busy trying to calm her beating heart. Going to her house going to her house.

Now, she’s standing in front of you, and thinking – this is your house? There’s a teardrop chandelier hanging behind you, and the staircase loops around the entrance hall, feeding into the back of the house.

You frown, confused. “Yeah, did I not tell you?” “No – “Ellie bursts, clearly flustered, “-- you failed to provide me with that information.” She makes a mental note to text Dina, simply – what the fuck, man? “Is it a problem?” you wonder, leaning against the doorframe, comfortable in your home. (Wearing pyjama shorts and a baggy top, you know, comfortable)

You didn’t seem like a sorority girl. But what did that even mean?

You did have a lot of…spirit.

Ellie imagines you hosting mixers and philanthropy events.

(Imagines you wearing a lot of pink and jumpers with your sorority name on it and nothing else.) “I don’t really sell to frats or sororities,” she explains, because, yeah, that’s the reason she’s having a hot moment. She thought she knew a lot about you. This, right here, is a big deal, and yet she’s only now just finding out.

What else did she not know about you? You think for a quick second. “Oh. Well,” you smile, patting your chest, concluding, “I’m the exception,” and you take her hand and pull her in, closing the door behind her.

When Ellie’s in the house, she doesn’t let go of your hand.

Instead, she uses it to tug you closer, and your wrist pushes into her belly. “They let queer girls into sororities?” she whispers, close enough to taste the mint gum you’re chewing.

Ellie has ideas of girls on the straight and narrow. No girl kissing here, unless guys are watching. Ellie cringes at the cliché, but you’re not offended – hadn’t heard her thoughts, so, that would be why – as your lips pull into a sly smile.

You lean forward, a ghost of a kiss. Ellie’s throat squeezes. “They don’t know that I’m a queer girl,” you whisper back, the heat of your eyes all-consuming.

Ellie watches you shrug.

“They don’t know that at least a quarter of them are queer girls, but – they’re not ready for that conversation.” “But you’re out, no?” Ellie quickly stumbles. If you’re not out, then that really messes with her plans to marry you and meet all your family. “Yeah,” you shrug again, explaining, “they just haven’t asked,” as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. In some ways, Ellie guesses, it is. She beams, “Well, they’ll ask when they see you hanging with me.” “What, why?” “Because I’m a known queer girl” “Oh, you have a reputation?” you quirk, and Ellie hums, “It’s possible I may have fooled around with some of your sorority sisters.” You chew on your lip, and cock your head to the side, “But did you share a really weird and intimate high with them where you cuddled all night, woke up mid-orgasm and then it made things super weird and odd to the point where you never really spoke about it again?”

Ellie grins, “No.” You shrug, “Oh, well. I win then,” and take her hand and begin to drag her behind you like a lost puppy dog.

She’s behind you on the stairs again, and you catch her staring when you turn to say, “Let’s go to my room.” As you drag her through the house, Ellie doesn’t see anyone, but she does hear the ominous sound of girl giggles and whispering. Heat blooms in her cheeks, as if she’s got omniscient eyes at the back of her head.

Ellie didn’t get along with peppy girls – too full of inner turmoil to match their happy-go-lucky attitude. The thought makes her clutch your hand tighter, and she speeds up, bumping her shoulders with yours.

“So, what’re the rules?” “Huh?” you ask, looking at her funny. The pair of you pass a group photo, and Ellie wants to stop and gawk – try and find your smiling face – but you tug her along, sensing her motives. “Like,” Ellie starts, stuck on her phrasing. “How should I be around you?” You frown up at her, deciphering her meaning. Slowly, your frown loosens. A small smile pushes into the side of your cheek. You squeeze her hand.

“Just be my Ellie.”

The pair of you go through Ellie’s question, and you help her write up a plan, noting all of her points and the quotes she should use.

Ellie tries to focus, but the whole time she’s thinking about how close you are to her – leaning against her, pushing your shoulder into hers.

She’s sitting on your bed in your room, and she’s hot all over as a result – smelling the scent from your burning candle and listening to the soft music you’re playing out of the laptop speaker.

Your walls are covered in posters. Pictures of you with family and friends and Ellie is surrounded by so much you that it feels like it’s always been like this.

Always been in your room, with her head on your lap, listening to your playlist – Ellie’s got Shazam out, but you’re just sending her the link. On her main phone, now – no busted one at the bottom of her bag.

She’s so busy being with you that she’s not wondering what she’s doing with you.

What are we? She wants to ask, but then your roommate decides to come in.

She pauses in the doorway, flinching as if she’s walked in on something intimate.

Ellie watches your eyes widen an inch, but then you catch yourself, smiling and waving. “Hey,” you greet, and your roommate – actually wearing a hoodie with your university name on it -- smiles, “Sorry, just grabbing my charger.”

“No problem,” you respond, and when she finally flicks her gaze to Ellie – kept on looking around her, like she was panhandling for money on the subway – her smile loosens.

She’s silent as she grabs her wire from her bed and doesn’t look at the pair of you as she leaves. When she’s out of the door, you get up and lock it. Coming back, Ellie gets comfy on your lap again.

“Did she look at me funny?” She’s not sure what your relationship with her is like, so she steps carefully. “I think she fancies me,” you casually explain, and Ellie’s belly flops. “For real?” You nod, wiggling your brows. “Should I be jealous?” she jokes, and your lips curl, tongue peeking out as you run it across the backs of your teeth. “We were together, once.” Ellie tries to imagine the pair of you together, and she comes up blank. Though, that’s probably because she’s too busy editing the image to clip her face in. “Yeah?” “Mm, at a Halloween party.” You’re grinning too wide. “You’re just fucking with me,” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “I’m not! I was dressed as a cat, and she was this like, sexy nun or something.” “Really?” Ellie asks, raising a brow and pulling a face that says, you’re full of shit. “Fine – I won’t tell you then.” “No no, I wanna hear this.” “What’s with the tone? I thought you’d for sure want to hear about my sexual escapades.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” You pull your lips together and raise a brow. Ellie suddenly feels too hot. Suddenly wants to run very quickly out of your bedroom door. Butterflies swirl in her belly, blood rushes to her cheeks, to her neck, and she feels the tips of her toes go numb.

You’ve danced around each other with this flirty banter for a while now, but it means something more now that you’ve said it out in the open.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ellie lies, hoping the red of her cheeks isn’t too prominent in the warm glow of your bedroom. You don’t lose your pursed lips, and Ellie rolls her eyes.

“Just hurry up and tell me about how you fucked your roommate.” “Say please,” you quickly rebut, and Ellie chokes.

The fuck? “What?” She laughs nervously, ignoring the quick electric bolt that shot through her groin, “fuck off.” “Fine,” you bleat, leaning back against the bedframe. “I won’t tell you then,” and Ellie shakes her head, proclaiming, “You’re insane,” and you grin at her, raising a testy brow, “It’s just manners, Ellie.”

When Ellie had imagined the dynamics of your relationship – but not relationship – it was you saying please. Preferably whispering it with your fingers in her auburn hair. Please Ellie, please do that again.

Ellie sits up from your lap, shaking the image away.

She takes in the curve of your brow, and the teasing slip of your lips. She dips closer – sudden, quick – and relishes in the way your mouth falls open an inch.

“I’m not begging you,” she whispers, not bothering to hide how mesmerised she is by your mouth.

“No?” you speak, matching her lazy tone. You nod to her, “I thought you’d be into that.”

Jesus fucking Christ, what’s happening right now? Ellie thought you’d help plan her essay and be done with it – she’d hoped for some flirty banter, but this was different. This was… Ellie leans closer, propped up by her hand that she’s planted beside your thigh. “If I say please, I want intricate detail.” “If you say please, I’ll give you whatever you want.” This girl…

“Whatever I want?” Ellie quirks. “Yeah,” you respond, and you press your forehead against hers, tone breathy as you repeat, “Whatever you want.”

Ellie can think of a lot of things she wants. For starters, she wants to close this gap and finally kiss you, but she says, “Please tell me your story,” and you smile, all teeth.

“It was Halloween.” “You said that.” “n, we were really drunk, and she’s like – straight straight, right?” You say straight like someone would say sorry. “Mm,” Ellie hums, her belly swirling. She hasn’t moved a fucking inch. Her palm is cramping, but hell if she’s going to lean away from you right now. This is a whole other kind of foreplay. “We’re in the bathroom.” “Here?” she asks, needing details – information. What day was it? Time?

You nod, and your nose brushes against hers. Her face blooms red again, and the brush of your touch makes her brain fuzzy. “We’re making out, and I thought she only wanted to kiss, but then she starts tryna take my top off.”

There’s a sincere edge to your tone. Your eyes are wistful, but you’re beaming – spurred by the excitement evident in Ellie’s eyes.

“Things get heated. She’s touching me everywhere, you know, hands just, between my legs, on my chest. Says she’s wanted me for ages but couldn’t say it, I mean, she’s got a boyfriend.” “A boyfriend?” Ellie asks, and fuck, that makes it worse. Or better? Either way, her body begins to ache like it did that morning – when it was just the pair of you and the world was quiet. Thrums electric and Ellie’s suddenly worried about the electric bill. “Yeah – frat boyfriend. Frat president boyfriend.” “Look at you, miss home wrecker.” You roll your eyes, “you want me to finish the story?” “I said please, didn’t I?” “You’re the worst.” “So…she’s taking your top off.” “Yeah. Then she’s taking my pants off, too. Then says, she’s never been with a girl before, can I show her?” Ellie pulls back with a groan. She can’t help it. Pulls back and falls into your lap, imagining you showing her how to fuck.

Her eyes are glazed over, like she’s somewhere else, thinking, about something else. She rubs her face and listens to your sweet giggle.

“Sorry,” she says, settling back, and you hold your hands up.

“No worries, take your time.”

Ellie waits – patiently. Waiting for you to divulge more information. Please carry on, she thinks. Please please please.

She feels like a kid at camp listening to the teens tell a ghost story around the campfire. And then what?

“You made her come?” she whispers, failing to hide the excitement in her whisper. A small, thoughtful smile finds your lips, and you lean down, hair brushing over her face.

Your thigh pushes into the back of her head, and you smell like a forest.

Your room smells like a fucking forest. Pine and vanilla.

The lights are dim, cloaking the room in a warm glow. She swears she hears trees swaying in the distance, but she realises – faintly – that it’s just the blood rushing in her ears. No trees here, she thinks. No bloody forest.

You’re looking down at her, eyes glittering in the warm light. After a stress-filled silence, you nod, whispering, “against the wall, cat ears still on. Made her come so hard it was dripping down my chin.” “Jesus,” Ellie whispers. Her legs fidget, trying to squirm from the warmth pushing between her thighs. She pushes her hair away from her forehead, even those it’s already tucked behind her ears. “Then what?” she asks, moving in your lap. Then what then what.

Your lips curl into a small smile, “Then we never spoke about it again.”

Ellie feels her eyes go dark with the memory. Imagines a film over them — lost in her own brain. Pictures you crawling on your hands and knees, on the prowl with your cat ears sitting pretty.

What was it you said again? That she was dripping all over your chin?

Her tongue peaks through her lips, pretty in pink, and she notices your small smile curve wider. Though, it’s not kind. It’s edged with something, as if you’ve made a funny and she doesn’t get the joke.

Ellie’s belly drops.

A laugh bursts out of your mouth, and she freezes. Nononononono, you didn’t. “I’m sorry—” you start, hiding your smile, and Ellie’s lips open in shock, then she’s snapping to -- jumping up from your lap, red all over.

She’s looking for her coat, hands shaking “nah, that’s not funny,” she’s saying, all while the faux image of you between a girl’s thighs buzzes behind her eyes.

It was her. She was the girl. She’d even imagined taking your cat ears off and putting them on her head. “Yeah, it was – Ellie,” you laugh, reaching for her hand, and Ellie’s body reacts to the touch.

You spin her into you, pouting, “Come onnnnn, I was playing.” “You’re mean for making that up. You’re a horrible person.” “Awhhh, I’m sworry. I’m sworry, come here –” You pull her into you, wrapping your arms around her neck. Be mad. Ellie thinks. Be mad be mad be mad—oh, but you’re so soft and warm.

She falls into you, hands catching your hips — holding you steady, as her head pushes into the curved gap between your throat and shoulder. You hold the back of her neck, hugging her close.

“I’m sorry, that was mean.” “Made me all worked up,” Ellie admits. The all-familiar ache is back. Then again, it’s never far when you’re around. “Yeah?” you quirk, the tone saying: tell me all about it. “Mm.” “Thinking about me with another girl?” She breathes a laugh, then breathes in your scent, the smell causing her to hold your hips tighter.

“You gotta write my essay now, make it up to me.” Your laugh rattles against her body.

“What you on about? I gave you free material to think about.” “What?” she laughs, squinting her face together. She pulls away, and you look up at her, chewing on your bottom lip.

You glance down at her mouth, and a breath gets caught in her throat. “Nothing,” You grin, and she cocks her head to the side, tightening her grip on your waist. “No, tell me. You made fun of me, you gotta tell me.” “I don’t have to do anything, Ellie.” “I’ll get it outta you.” “Yeah, how?” “You won’t know until it happens.”

“Weirdo,” you scoff, pulling away. “Let me walk you home, they wanna do a group meeting about some charity event later.” “Ooo, little miss sorority girl.”

You smack her chest, “Hey!” but Ellie grabs your hand, laughing as she pulls you into her, catching your hips again. You gasp in surprise, hands catching hers, and your chest pushes into hers.

She feels you focus on the cavern of her eyebrow scar, then the dust of freckles over her nose. The wild brush of her eyebrows, and the small, circular, chickenpox scar on her cheek.

Ellie gets confident or forgets the proximity of your relationship — nothing new — and rests her forehead against yours.

The world gets quiet.

The buzz of your music fades out, and all Ellie can hear is the small, clipped, and shaky sound of your breathing.

Your eyes flutter closed for a brief second, and Ellie wants to kiss you. Always wants to kiss you, but this is different. This is new and sudden and sweet. It’s soft. Gentle.

Your fingers graze over hers, and she imagines holding you like this forever.

Imagines doing this, as often as she likes.

All you’ve done together, and you haven’t even kissed yet. Ellie gazes at your wet mouth.

“Wanna come to mine? We don’t even have to smoke; you can just help me with the intro to my essay.” Your lips twist, and a small smile appears. “Ellie,” you whisper, tinged with a double meaning. “What?” she asks, feigning innocence. “I can’t,” you whisper.

She breathes in deep, eyes closing as she presses her forehead against yours. “Not even for a second?” “Ellie.” “Please?” she whispers, looking at you, and your face falls. Your mouth opens an inch, the red of your tongue alluring. When you don’t respond, Ellie slowly dips lower and tentatively brushes her mouth against yours. Your breath catches.

The skin of your lips is pillow soft, and for the first time, she’s able to taste your lip gloss from the source. “Doesn’t please get me anything I want?” Ellie hushes. The music has bled into the background, a hum in the walls of your room. It rattles through her toes and dances through her chest, forcing her heart to thrum with life. Your eyes are half-lidded, lashes brushing over your cheeks when you look at her mouth. “That was a one-time deal,” you manage to tease, despite the nerves radiating off of you. “So, I can’t kiss you?” “I never said that.”

Your tone is dangerous. Ellie’s lips quirk into a smirk. “I didn’t say please though?”

There’s a heated 30 seconds where you pluck up some courage. Ellie can hear the cogs turning in your pretty little head before you conclude that, “manners are overrated,” and press your cherry lips against hers, sticky and artificially sweet.

The world stops in that movie magic kind of way.

Reality flutters to a pause, the music switches off, the natter from your roommates downstairs goes quiet, and Ellie can no longer hear the constant anxious beating of her heart.

It’s just you and your mouth – the press of your lips, no tricks, just the delicate touch of yours against hers.

Ellie is 15 again and playing truth or dare at that camp her uncle forced her to go to.

She’s picking dare and kissing Jessica Carter, the daughter of a man that owned a slew of Ice Cream shops in Salt Lake, and it means so much more to Ellie than it does to Jessica.

She feels the electricity of the kiss pulse throughout her body, like she’s got her soapy fingers in a light switch socket, and as she pulls away and Jessica laughs – giggles, cupping her wet lips, I can’t believe we just did that – Ellie feels the cavern in her chest close just an inch.

She was about to thank her, but then she thought better of it.

Pulling away now, there’s no Jessica, it’s you, and you’re pressing your fingers to your lips like you’re holding them out to a cat, nervous as to what’s going to happen next.

Ellie leans her forehead against yours, lips numb.

You’re breathing like you’ve run a marathon. Then you kiss her again.

Ellie stumbles back from the shock, but you move with her, guiding her back until her legs hit the bed frame.

She makes a quick decision – pulls away and gets back onto your bed, hoping you follow her down. Thankfully, you do – quirk a nervous smile and knee walk over to her, spreading your legs and clambering onto her lap.

You sit back on her thighs with your knees pressed against her hips.

The position is a memory re-lived, except this time, you’re both alert – no sleep to mask the feeling, just the nerves pulsating through your veins. New new new, it’s saying.

Ellie reaches out and steadies your hips.

Taking a shaky breath, she slips her thumbs under the fabric of your shirt and runs the length of your shorts. The skin there burns, heat radiating off of you like a furnace, and it’s as if you enjoy the touch, as you take Ellie’s hands and cup them with your own, keeping them against your skin, before dragging them around your hips.

Ellie catches your eyes, breath lodged in her throat.

It stays there while you run her fingers up and under your shirt, painstakingly moving her hands over your stomach, over your rib cage, and Ellie’s heart swells in her chest as the tips of her fingers feel the underwire of your bra.

Ellie can’t decide what she wants.

There are too many options – kiss you, undress you – and she so badly wants all of them all at once. When you finally drag her palms over your breasts, she feels your nipples pressing through the thin and lacey fabric, and her belly swirls, the pressure pushing low.

Your breath rattles in your chest. “You okay?” Ellie asks, and instead of answering, you bow down to kiss her.

This kiss is different. It’s desperate. Tinged with the need to tell Ellie it's okay, it's okay, as you slip your tongue in her mouth. She groans.

It’s deep and low, echoing around the room, and there’s a fleeting second where Ellie is embarrassed, but you swallow the sound down, hips reacting, pressing into her crotch.

Ellie aches with the memory of before.

She wants to tease you, wants to say, you gonna come like this again? but you drag your lips over to her neck, and she whines pathetically.

Oh fuck, she thinks. Ellie goes liquid, like syrup. She melts into the mattress, hands relax on your breasts, and just – lets you pepper kisses over her throat. Let’s you run your tongue under her jaw, and her hips buck in response. Jolt up into your crotch, and your breathing changes, now coming out in long, deep pulls.

You mark her neck with your mouth, and Ellie feels the suck of your lips in her gut. Her hands go exploring, sliding over your tits, and she rubs her thumbs over your nipples, listening for your breathing stutter.

When you mumble a desperate fuck, into her throat, Ellie suddenly wants you on your back.

She knocks the pair of you over, and you fall back onto your mattress, grinning up at Ellie with a wild smile. You take her in. Eyes flutter over her like butterflies, taking in her statue as she sits on top of you. Suddenly, though, your smile changes. Goes nervous.

“What does this mean for us?” you whisper, and Ellie shakes her head, moving to kiss you again. Now on top, she swells with the feeling of control.

“Don’t think about it,” she mumbles, then tastes cherry again.

Ellie’s a hypocrite because all she does is think about it.

Up all night in bed, thinking about it. Thinking about how she wants you as her girlfriend, but she hasn’t even taken you out on a date yet.

Doesn’t know about your family. Your friends. Doesn’t know your favourite movie, or colour. All she knows is your weed order. The thought makes her sick with shame.

The mumble of her name coming out of your lips brings her back.

You stuff her shirt in your hands, and Ellie wants it off.

Wants your hands all over her, wants to grind her hips into yours like you did hers, with your hands on her hips guiding her.

“Wanna see,” you mumble, tugging at her shirt, and Ellie’s skin prickles.

She drags her hips back, the seam of her jeans pushing against her crotch, and sits up straight. She grins, all teeth, then fists the shirt, pulling it up her chest. The lines of her muscles are revealed, along with a few white scars that dot her stomach and back. She’s wearing a casual cotton bra, but you look at her as if she’s donning silk. “So pretty,” you whisper, blinking up at her, and that shame that sat inside of her dispels. You slide your hands over her chest, and the warmth of them pushes into her bloodstream. “Pretty?” Ellie quirks, needing something to distract herself from the languid movement of your hands. You trail your fingers over her ribcage, then push your pointer up her breast bone, mouth open an inch, ignoring her, and Ellie’s limbs go jelly.

You’ve got your goddamn explorer hat on as you drag the base of your palm between her tits, your spare hand lazily rubbing her hip bone.

“What’re you doing?” she asks, words coming out as a breathy whisper. You flash a small smile, “committing you to memory.” A dangerous pressure builds in Ellie’s heart. Her cheeks bloom red, her skin prickles, and she feels light-headed, as if you’ve removed all the oxygen in the room.

You hook a finger around the elastic of her bra and tug her forward. Ellie catches herself on the mattress beside your head just as you kiss her, pushing your tongue into her mouth and crotch up into hers.

She shudders.

The kiss is all tongue, desperate, as she bumps her nose against yours to taste you. She’s preoccupied with your mouth, so she doesn’t notice your hand sliding between her thighs. When she does, she forgets how to kiss. “S-Shit,” Ellie stutters, caught off guard. Your touch is gentle, just, lazily rubbing your fingers into her jeans. There’s a lot of fabric between you, thus Ellie’s left the chase the friction.

Resting her forehead against yours, she clutches the sheets beside you, rolling her hips into your hand. She blinks at you, opening her eyes, and you’re staring at her like she’s an artwork – trying to memorise every brush stroke.

You bump your nose against hers, flexing your palm. Ellie hums again.

“You sure you wanna do that?” she jokes, clutching onto any semblance of sanity. You give her a lazy smile, lips wet with her spit. “’s ’only fair.

“Not –” Ellie starts, but chokes, your knuckle just hitting the top of her pussy. Her eyes flutter closed, mouth opening an inch, and you must sense the shift, because you keep your hand there, nodding, knowing what she was going to say before she said it.

“Gonna make you come 'cause I want to, not ‘cause I have to.” “Fuck – okay,” Ellie relents. There’s no way she’s going to leave in the middle of this. She can’t. She’d probably collapse mid-way. A pressure pushes between her thighs, hot and constant. Her pussy clenches around nothing and she whispers something. Sounds like your name.

Been a minute since she’d had a hand other than hers between her legs.

Ellie lazily chases your palm, thinking that If she moves too quickly, this moment will poof into a dream. Doesn’t want to scare it away.

To hide her red face, she nuzzles into your throat, roles reversed from that morning, except Ellie didn’t have her hand between your thighs. She tells herself it’s her turn to do that next.

You pop the button on her jeans, and Ellie glances down at your hands, seeing/feeling them tug at the band.

You turn into her head, “Jesus, these painted on or something?” and Ellie breathes a laugh, “Didn’t expect someone else taking them off.” “I need easy access from now on, only sweatpants.” “Noted.” Your smile goes silly, “preferably those grey ones you wore when I came over that time, when I made you dinner.” “Thought you liked those ones, caught you staring at my ass.” “No you did not.” Ellie kisses your neck, “It’s so sexy when you gaslight me.” You huff, “You gonna help me take them off, or watch me struggle?” and a slow grin builds across Ellie’s face. “Wanna see you work for it.” “Well, you’ll be watching for a while. Enjoy the show!” you joke, trying to drag the denim off of her hips. You grunt loudly, brow furrowed as you tug.

Finally, you throw your hands up with a huff, then pout and cross your arms. Ellie’s leaned back at this point, and she mimics your face.

“Defeated by The Gap,” Ellie sighs. “I’m gonna put in a complaint. Tell them that their stupid jeans stopped my girlf—” you catch yourself, eyes widening.

Ellie goes still.

There’s a second where she hears the crowd cheering in the background, but it turns out it’s a kid crying on the street outside.

“What did you just say?” she asks, tone filled with awe. She cannot help the shit-eating grin that splays across her face. It’s so big that you have to cover your face from the shine. “I said nothing.” “Um, I heard something.” “You didn’t hear anything.” “I heard the word girl and then an ‘F’ sound.” “You didn’t! I’m telling you; you’re hearing things. Going crazy.” “Ummmmmm,” Ellie drags, squinting down at you.

She tries to pull your hands away, but you won’t budge. “I heard something!” “I was going to say, girl fellow!” “Girl what?” Ellie laughs, eyes alight with humour.

“Yeah—” you start, pulling your hands away and masking your features. You’re a beacon of control.

“Girl fellow. It’s this new thing I coined. A girl who is a fellow, as in friend.” Ellie squints, “Fellow means boy, you weirdo.” “No it—” you frown. “Does it?” “Yes, have you not seen Robin Hood?” You pause, “No.” “Oh my god!” Ellie erupts. “How have you not seen Robin Hood? I used to be obsessed with it.” “Everything makes so much sense now.” “The fuck does that mean?”

You push your hands into her hips, fingers tickling. “Do you have a pointy bow and arrow at home? A little green hat?” “Shut up,” Ellie laughs, trying to bat your hands away. She catches them. “That makes so much sense,” you start, joking around, “You’re far too into social justice.” “How are you bullying me about world change? You just called me your girlfriend!” “Fellow!” you correct. “That means girl boy!” You grin triumphantly, “Welcome to the 21st century, Ellie.” She rolls her eyes, “you’re so annoying.” “Your jeans are annoying.” “My jeans are cute.” You point a finger at her, “I’m gonna fight your jeans.”

Ellie dips low and kisses you, mumbling into your mouth, “mm, my money’s on the jeans,” and you wrap your thigh around her ass, using it as leverage to roll her onto her back.

You suddenly slide down, standing at the edge of the bed and shoving your hands into the band of her trousers. With a determined look, you manage to pull them down, “fuck your jeans.”

They end up on the floor, and Ellie’s left in a pair of boxers and her bra. She’d clap for you if she wasn’t so suddenly dazed. You appear on top of her, and she automatically wraps her arms around your shoulders, humming contently as you kiss her.

When her brain comes back to reality, she manages to switch positions again, knees pressing beside your thighs. With a tentative touch, you trace your hand over her stomach, distracting her with the wet of your kiss.

When your fingers touch the band of her underwear, Ellie’s breathing changes. It’s all suddenly real.

“Wanna stop?” you breathe, tone sincere and gaze gentle. Despite the bubble in her chest, Ellie has never wanted to continue something more. She shakes her head, eager. “Fuck no.”

Your sweet giggle distills the tension. “Good,” you grin, sliding your fingers lower, “wanted to do this since I met you.”

The tips of your fingers drag over her clothed pussy, gentle and soft. Ellie releases a shaky breath.

There’s just a piece of flimsy cotton stopping you from skin on skin, but she’s so wet that it feels that way, anyway.

Her eyes flutter closed, the sensation lulling her, fueling her with dopamine, and she buries her head in the crook of your neck, flexing her hips to meet your hand.

You drag the corner of your knuckle up her clothed slit, pushing into her clit when you get to the top. Ellie groans quietly, and you grin into the side of her head, rolling your knuckle into her, and she moans.

“Fuck, s’good.” “Yeah?” you ask, and Ellie nods. Propelled by her quiet desperation, you twist your hand and push a finger against her damp clit – the wet fabric showing the lines of her pussy – and roll it gently.

The fabric in the way makes it dirtier, more desperate, and makes Ellie moan pathetically into your neck, forgetting you’ve got roommates. She chases your hand.

Hips stir up, wet heat coiling in her belly and pushing into her cunt. Is this what you felt? That morning in her apartment?

The fire is quick to rise, and it’s only been a couple of minutes of her grinding into your palm when her pussy clenches, heat pushing at the back of her clit.

“Mm,” she hums, inhaling a shaky breath. Her thighs begin to shake. “Baby, you’re gonna make me come,” she hushes into your ear, and she swears she hears you whimper. You turn to look at her, and pout, “Want it on my fingers, Ellie,” you admit, eyes innocent, wide with wonder, and Ellie’s jaw clenches.

Her hips lose their rhythm, and how the fuck is she in control right now? She doesn’t feel that way. Feels like she lost any semblance of control when you flipped her over and pulled her jeans off. “Fuck, okay. Okay. Shit. Take my – fuck,” she stumbles, and you push your fingers under the band of her underwear, asking, “Can I?” in such a pure tone that Ellie has to close her eyes and breathe through her nose. “Yeah baby,” she nods, “s’okay. Fuck. It’s okay.”

You drag your fingers through her pubic hair – eyes on her the whole time – before you stuff your pointer and index against her wet clit. You start to roll the nerve, and Ellie chokes on her spit. Her body shudders.

She’s in your goddamn dorm room in your sorority with your hand down her pants.

You’re watching her intently. Glazed eyes gazing at her features, fingers controlling the way her brows furrow and cheeks bloom red. It’s wholly intimate. Ellie’s slick coats your fingers.

“So hot, Ellie.”

Her body flushes – she has to bury her head in your neck again, where she nods. She grinds her cunt into your hand, forcing you to press harder and roll quicker. “Mm, fuck,” Ellie swears, spit dribbling over her lips, drunk on your fingers, “Fuck, m’ gonna come.” She feels the familiar pressure behind her clit, the heat that sears – almost painful. You twist into her, nodding, saying, “Give it to me El’s.” Then, “please.”

The wave rushes up and pulls her under, rendering her voiceless and still, before it crashes, and she gushes over your hand, chasing the spin of your fingers as she shakes. “Mm, god, god, shit” she whimpers, voice muffled by your neck, trying so hard to keep quiet, but fuck, she’s not in control of her body. She clenches the duvet as her pussy clenches and un-clenches, clit spasming, whole body slick with sweat.

Her hips grind into your fist, eyes rolled back, mumbling curses into your throat, and she’s clenching the duvet so tight that her knuckles go white.

Then someone calls your name.

You freeze. Fingers go still.

Ellie wants to cry, but somewhere in her drunk mind, she realises the severity of the situation.

When you don’t respond, your name gets called again.

“Fuck,” you curse, then “Ellie, baby, I’m sorry, you gotta get off of me.”

Ellie manages to find the energy to roll off of you, and you get up, legs stumbling before you reach the door.

“Y-Yeah?” you call out through the wood.

Ellie lays boneless on your bed, breathing deeply through her nose. Her boxers are pushed low, pubic hair on show, but she doesn’t have the power to sort herself out.

She should be nervous at the idea of being caught, but fuck, her clit still throbs with the memory of your fingers. She languidly blinks at the ceiling, trying to calm her heart.

How the fuck did that just happen?

“Meeting soon, you coming?” the faceless voice calls, and you mumble a curse before saying, “Yeah! Gimmie a minute.”

When you turn to her, Ellie’s already gazing at you. You quirk a small, sad smile, and Ellie nods, understanding.

“Lemme just,” she starts, rubbing her face, “find the energy.” You giggle at her. “Let me help you put your stupid jeans on.” Ellie props herself up by her elbows, beaming, “My top down there, too?” “Got it.”

She manages to shove her jeans on, wincing when she knocks her sensitive clit. You eye her.

“Listen, I—” you start, clearly flustered. You motion to her, “—Would take better care of you after but.” “Whoa – what?” Ellie cuts you off, shoving her shirt on with a frown.

You purse your lips, “like, cook you dinner or kiss your forehead or something.” “You’ve already cooked me dinner, and you can kiss my forehead whenever you want.” “I mean. I don’t usually make a girl come and then dip.” “Oh,” Ellie frowns, “But this is different.” You pout, “Still feel bad.” “Don’t,” Ellie firmly spouts. She takes your hands and kisses your forehead. “I feel good, you should feel good.” “It was good?” you ask, suddenly lit up and eager to hear more. Ellie laughs. Her body is filled with a warm, buttery feeling. She’s still drunk on you, lethargic from coming, and she doesn’t have the space to panic.

Her subconscious tries to tell her everything that has happened that should cause her concern.

She nearly called you her girlfriend, then made you come on her double bed with a flowery bedspread. Now she feels bad because she doesn’t have enough time to give you adequate aftercare. Dude.

Still, Ellie shows no alarm when she kisses your forehead and says, “I’ll call you.”

It’s only when she gets home, looks in the mirror and sees her lips glittery with your lip-gloss, that reality sets in.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams fan fic #the last of us #the last of us 2 #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #smut #ellie williams the last of us #dealer!ellie williams #tlou2 #tlou

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airaibunny · 7 months

Text

momo x reader - “it’s you” (warnings: smut[dom reader], angst with happy ending, sexual boundaries being pushed, crying, self deprecation, fingering, oral, heavy jealousy, spanking, cursing, degradation, slight praise, i feel like i’m forgetting something else…)

a/n: req!(“I’m obsessed with concept of being friends with benefits where the reader or member secretly has feelings for the other and gets jealous. If you could, could you do another friends w/ benefits but with Momo?”)okay, idk how this turned into angst like literally i went into it just wanting to make it rough sex. i rolled with it though, if it sucks pls tell me to stfu and stick to smut. hope you like this train wreck, mind you this was entirely written in 2 hours on a plane so like🙏

HEAVY HEAVY CONTENT WARNING, TAKE THE TAGS VERY SERIOUSLY PLEASE

word count: 2.3k

low moans fill your dorm room as the sweat makes your hair stick to your forehead. with your face between her thighs, momo’s sickeningly sweet scent engulfs your nose. you praise her every sound, “just like that, you sound so pretty,” you coo, “you’re doing so well for me.”

her release comes with a gasp and you greedily lap up everything spilling out of her. your tongue glides up and down her folds, devoted to letting her completely give out.

you come up, wiping your mouth with your fingers and licking her off of them. “you were wonderful as always.”

“hm.” she’s still not thinking clearly, her attempt at a response coming out as a moan. you laugh and get up to find your clothes.

“are you leaving?” she sits up in bed, wiping her hair out of her face. “we’ve been in here too long, they’re going to wonder what we’re doing.” she flops back down. “i’ll be out there in a few.”

after you put all your clothes on, you walk to the door. your hand lays on the doorknob motionless for a few seconds, deciding on whether it should turn it or not.

if you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t want to leave.

momo completely consumes every one of your thoughts. there’s not a single event in your day that you don’t connect to her. you can’t wait for the one or two hours a day you get to have her all to yourself, even if she just sees it as sex. when you’re with her, you swear the world outside could end and you wouldn’t notice. she has become your everything, but you’re not the same to her.

to her, you’re just a friend she casually fucks. nothing more, nothing less. of course you feel incredibly lucky that you at least get to have this, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t yearn for more.

you want to tell everyone she’s yours and only yours, on all fronts.

but you can’t just bring it up to her, you would never be able to move on if she rejected you. even on days when she’s especially clingy and really makes you think she wants the same thing, you still tell yourself you’re over-analyzing.

“did you freeze?” she asks from behind you. you push the door and walk out, not making eye contact with her.

you start making your way to the kitchen to drink water and run into dahyun on the way there. “do you know if momo is in her room?” “she is.”

she walks away, but turns around again before leaving. “is she alone?”

‘why do you care?’

you think to yourself, of course you don’t respond with that, but it takes a great deal of self control not to.

“yes, she is.” you give her a fake smile and continue on your way to the kitchen.

“you’re so great at hiding when you’re angry.” mina teases as soon as she sees you. you roll your eyes at her and grab a glass of water. “were you with her just now?”

mina is the only person you’ve told about you and momo, your feelings for her included. it’s not that you don’t trust your other members; you just trust mina the most. with the others, there’s always a possibility that they might let it slip when they don’t mean to, but you know mina it’s ditzy enough to do that.

“yes.” you take a sip of your water and look down, trying to avoid mina’s gaze. “i’m tired of speaking to you about this, you know you’ll have to confess eventually. you’re destroying yourself, y/n.” she might not be telling anyone, but she sure as hell loves to hammer you about it.

“i know,” you sigh, “but how?” she walks beside you and pulls you into a hug. “you know what i have to say to that.” “yeah, yeah, whatever ‘it doesn’t matter how.’” she’s right, you’re very aware of that, but can’t bring yourself to do it.

“i’m going with everyone else, you coming?” you tell her you’ll be there shortly and let her leave. you stay sitting and contemplating your situation for a few more minutes until you decide to join your fellow members.

as soon as you walk into the living room your eyes dart towards momo, curled up next to dahyun. it instantly makes you see red, and very noticeably apparently because mina shoots you a knowing look.

you sit right across from them, glaring at them. you grit your teeth every time dahyun rubs momo’s leg or turns to whisper in her ear. you know that you all have a very close bond, and this is by no means out of the ordinary, but you can’t handle it when it involves with momo.

you also know she’s allowed to be with other people if so she desires, but if that’s what’s happening, is she really that shameless?

“y/n!?” jihyo yells beside you and you jump. “are you listening or just sitting there?” you are, in fact, not listening, too focused on the two people in front of you.

“sorry, i’m listening.”

“so what do you think?” you stare at her in confusion and your lie becomes evident. “ugh, never mind. i was saying that…” you tune her out again as you watch momo toss her head back in laughter at something dahyun said.

nothing could possibly be that fucking funny.

an hour passes of the same thing; momo and dahyun’s antics being met with your cold stare. that’s why you don’t waste a second when momo gets up and heads to the bathroom.

you make sure nobody can see down the hallway and follow her. she almost shuts the door, but you push it pack and step inside with her.

“oh sorry, i didn’t notice you.” she says, a fake pout on her lips.

“save it.” you walk closer to her, pushing her back until her ass hits the counter. “do you get off by being a slut on display, huh? does having people watch you be a whore turn you on?”

she smirks at you, acting like she’s completely unaware of what you’re saying. you see right through her, her rosy cheeks and labored breathing tell you she’s already dripping.

“what do you mean, are you jealous because of dahyun? do you not like seeing her touch me?” she gets really close, you can feel her breath on your neck.

fuck, even if you can tell what she’s doing, she knows how to push your buttons.

you grab her waist and turn her around, slamming her hips against the counter. she lets out a whine, but you’re too deep in your head to worry about whether it was in pain or pleasure.

“me, jealous?” you laugh, holding her in place, bent over the counter for you. “i just feel so bad for you. are you really that desperate? one girl isn’t enough, you need two?”

you rip off her shorts and panties, delighting in their soaked state. as soon as her ass is exposed, you land a hard hit on it. her back arches and you spank her again, harder. she whimpers with each slap and you can see her pussy growing wetter.

“that gets you really excited, look at that.” you dip your fingers between her folds, a silky string of her glistening slick attached to them when you take them off.

you grab her wrists behind her back, pulling her up by her hair at the same time. you think maybe you’re being a little too rough for a second, but your jealousy completely blinds you.

you shove her once again, against the door this time. you angrily let go of her hair and your hand flys to her ass, spanking her again. your own pussy throbs when you can perfectly make out your hand print on it.

“ow, y/n…” a tears rolls down her cheek and you chuckle at her. “oh c’mon, i thought you liked being treated like a bitch.”

another tear comes, then another. you’d normally ask her if she was alright, but you’re truly not yourself in this moment. seeing her so close with dahyun awakened something you didn’t know you had in you.

you fingers dive right into her entrance without teasing or warning, making her cry out.

“y/n, that hurts!”

her tears don’t stop. you’ve never been this way with her, but now you’re thinking you should’ve done this sooner. she looks absolutely stunning breaking down for you.

“crocodile tears, you know you love this.” she sobs, whining every time your fingers harshly re-enter her.

“they’re not, please…”

you hear her, but you don’t process what she’s saying. “oh shut the fuck up, whore.” another slap on her ass, right on top of the red handprint from before.

“stop, please, stop!”

only when she’s repeatedly begging you to stop do you remove your fingers and ease up, realizing you were basically cutting off her breathing with how hard you were pressing her against the door.

her legs immediately give out on her and she nearly falls to the ground, but you catch her before she does so.

you’re still in shock at what you just did, muttering countless apologies to her. she doesn’t react, just cries.

you hurriedly put her clothes back on and lead her to her bedroom, looking down the hallway to make sure none of the other girls can see you.

you lock the door when you step inside and carry her to the bed. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.” your own tears form in your eyes, you feel like a monster. why are you crying? you’re the one who did this to her. if you love her so much, why’d you do this?

“momo, i’m sorry.” her sobs keep coming, each one deepening your wound even more.

“why were you like that?” she asks, wiping some of the still cascading tears from her face. you stay silent, too ashamed to give her an honest reply. “i don’t deserve an answer?”

“i went too far, i’m sorry.” you turn away, not wanting her to see your tears. she pulls your shoulder and makes you face her. “but why?” your heart breaks as you get a good look at her beautiful eyes completely bloodshot, and her rosy cheeks red and sticky with tears.

“because i’m a fucking idiot, and i kept things in for too long, and i just let them all pour out in the worst way possible. i’m sorry momo, i’m so, so sorry.” you break down, sobbing just as hard as she is. “i’ve,” you think about your next words very carefully, “i’ve loved you for so long, momo. i didn’t know how to say it. my incompetence just ended up hurting you, i’m so sorry.”

you feel even worse as her hand trembles on your cheek, wiping away the tears. you take it into your own, turning your face to kiss it.

“you’re not incompetent,” you cut her off. “no, don’t console me, i’m not the one in need of that.” she moves closer to you, settling in on your shoulder and grabbing both of your hands in hers. you can still see the tears falling from her eyes and onto her lap, only serving to make your own sorrows multiply.

“i haven’t been the brightest either.” you turn your face to look at her and she does the same. “asking you to just have sex with me seemed easier than asking you to be my girlfriend.”

you’re in utter shock for a few seconds, her sentence hitting you like a train.

all of this performing and going around in circles you’ve been doing for so long because you thought she didn’t feel the same way, you could’ve skipped all of that?

you should be ecstatic about this, but you won’t let yourself. you hurt her, you hurt her really bad. how could she ever forgive you?

“i’m so sorry i didn’t say anything sooner.” she starts audibly crying again and buries her head into your neck. you lift her face up, holding it in your hands. “why are you apologizing? don’t do that, please, don’t apologize to me for anything.”

for the first time in however many months this has been happening, she crashes her lips into yours. kissing always felt like a thing for couples in a weird way, which you both stressed you weren’t.

“momo…” she closes the distant between you two again, making your lips connect. you don’t try pulling away this time, you let her take the lead. the kiss is deep and passionate, perfectly matched to her lips. right now, her lips feel infinitely better on your own than they do anywhere else on your body. she’s heavenly; too good for you.

“momo, i’m so sorry.”

“i forgive you, y/n, i’ll always forgive you.”

more tears spill out of your eyes, how could she forgive you? “you can’t do that.”

her own tears still stain her face as she grabs your shirt into a fist, making you foreheads touch. “you do not get decide that for me.” she pauses to kiss you again. “i want you, i want you so bad, and you’re not going to pull away now that i know you feel the same way.” she sniffles, looking into your eyes while coming up with her next words.

“please don’t pull away.” you take her into your arms, you both still gasping for air from crying.

“i won’t.”

you wipe the hair from her face, wanting to admire every little detail.

“i love you so much, i’ll never make you feel like that again, i promise.”

she looks at you with pure admiration in her eyes.

“i love you too, and i believe you.”

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tojivu · 2 years

Text

SUGAR.

a/n “you’re the only one i want by my side when i fall asleep.”

warnings/tags how genshin men look out 4 you! pls don’t Flop i’ll cry (includes childe diluc zhongli xiao)

CHILDE holds your hand tightly as he leads you through the crowd. it was unbelievable how packed the market was today. all he wanted was to get some fruit and stroll around the city—the weather was perfect. the sun was beating down on you both; you could almost feel the hot concrete through your slippers. ajax insisted you put on sunscreen, saying he doesn’t want you to get burns; dragging you to the bathroom while doing so. it seemed like he cared about your safety more than anything else—as soon as he got home, he had started to complain about how he forgot to put sunscreen on himself.

“ajax, stop moving around. you’re making this harder than it should be.”

“it hurts.” he frowns, sucking air through his teeth as the cold aloe vera lotion spread across his skin. you shook your head in annoyance.

“you were so obsessed with getting the sunscreen on me, now look at you.” he doesn’t take well to this, and you know because you look up and see his face; eyebrows furrowed and ears red from embarrassment.

“didn’t want you to get burned.”

so stubborn, you thought—but you can’t help but smile a little anyway.

—

DILUC is, naturally, a very busy man. there was a lot of work that he would need to get done, some taking hours to finish up. nevertheless, diluc ragnvindr would always find a way to take care of you, even when he’s piled with work. most nights, you finished work late—coming home to an empty house wasn’t the most pleasant idea to you. coming home later always meant that diluc would be waiting for you, calling out your name as soon as you step in.

the quiet air was not something you enjoyed. when you were at home, you’d often hear a pen scribbling because of diluc—even the most tiniest sound could calm you, knowing that he’s right there, even if he doesn’t speak at all.

you were puzzled as to why you didn’t hear a shout of your name as soon as the door opened. no greeting came, and you were a bit disappointed. why wasn’t he here? he’s always home before you.

suddenly, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and a familiar red-haired figure pops into the hallway. “y/n, hey, i’m so sorry. was in the shower.”

“don’t scare me like that. thought i was home alone,” you gave a sigh of relief, and diluc welcomes you home with a hug—as he always did.

“i’m never late to anything, y/n.” perhaps it’s the professional side of him speaking, though you can’t help but think something in his soft smile says otherwise.

—

ZHONGLI gets paranoid everytime you cook for him. would you burn yourself, spill oil everywhere? start a fire? he never knew with you. don’t get him wrong, it’s not that he thinks you can’t cook—he just doesn’t want you to get hurt. ever since that one fine evening two years ago (an incident you and your neighbours would rather forget), zhongli has never trusted you to be alone in the kitchen. he fries the eggs in the morning while the most he’d let you do is toast bread.

you find yourself craving a hot bowl of noodles, and zhongli doesn’t realise you’ve left your shared bedroom until he reaches for you in bed—no one.

you’re boiling a pot of water and you can hear rushed footsteps coming down the stairs, and when your boyfriend’s face appears in the kitchen doorway—you know you’re about to get a lecture. his nose is scrunched and his eyebrows are stern, and you think he looks adorable, despite the fact that as soon as he opens his mouth..

“didn’t i tell you to tell me if you’re going to cook?”

“it’s just hot water.”

“let me do it, okay? i’ll drain the noodles for you, then i’ll leave you be.” you know your boyfriend has your best interests at heart, no matter how paranoid he may be. you give up, stepping away from the stove; you can’t complain much anyway, he looks very handsome when he cooks. something about the way he holds chopsticks is very alluring.

—

XIAO holds your hand tight and walks you home, no matter where you are. if you sent him a text saying you were scared, he’d come running even if you were stuck in the middle of a deserted island. he never wants you to feel unsafe, and he does his best to be with you whenever you do feel unsafe. when you both are out on a date in the late hours of the night, he’s gripping your hand and holding you close—making sure nobody but him could get near. he makes sure you get home safe, watching you step into your house and closing the door before he makes his own way home.

“xiao, hey, i think you should go home. i can walk from here.” you tell him. he looked so tired, and you felt bad because all you did was drag him around the city today.

his eyes blinked slowly at yours, as if he was processing what you just said. it was 2 in the morning and you’re not sure if he was going to pass out.

“nah, i’ll walk you.” he insists, grabbing a hold of your hand and taking the lead—he knows your way home by heart now and he hates how it’s always so dark in your neighbourhood.

arguing with him is futile, most times. you choose to accept it, your boyfriend’s hands feel so warm—so safe and tight, as if he’d never let you go.

“okay.”

i did childe and diluc so dirty i am so sorry it’s always rhe gingers — 181022

psst join in on my 300 follower event.. — 231022

#genshin impact #childe x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #childe fluff #genshin fluff #diluc fluff #zhongli fluff #xiao x reader #xiao fluff #genshin x reader fluff #i did them so dirty #sorry no kaeya i hadno ideas for him…

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diaryujin · 11 months

Text

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄

summary: you’ve gone missing, and your best friend chan has no other method of communication other than sending you voice notes.

genre: angst

includes: university au, minho is a thirdwheel/another best friend of you both, overdosing, attempted suicide, coma-ish situation, chan is a S-I-M-P, mentions of you both being drunk, mentions of weightloss and getting paler, chan is a majoring in music here, NOT proofread, lmk if i missed anything else

pairing: non idol! uni student! chan x uni student! fem! reader

a/n: i did this low effort thing bc i haven’t had the energy for anything else pls don’t let it flop i made a comeback i’m out of my blackpink era (/j blinks don’t come after me) (should I make a sequel) song lyrics: lost by (g)i-dle (english translation)

word count: 1K including song lyrics

taglist: @kflixnet

“Hey Y/N. You weren’t at university or your dorm today. Is everything okay? I know you’ve been stressing about…well, a lot, really-” sigh “yeah, so basically, I’m worried about you.” nervous laughter “Cause like, your roommate, Tzuyu told me you were in your room at night, but then you weren’t there when I came to pick you up. I hope you hear this. Take care.”

❝𝙄𝙛 𝙄 𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨❞

“Y/N, it’s been three days. Everyone’s worried, especially me. I know you’ve talked about running away before, but…well, I didn’t think you were serious.” silence ”I hope you’re coming back soon, you know. Uni feels different and more empty without you. Take care.”

❝𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙄 𝙗𝙚 𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪?❞

“A week. I’ve been a bit busy, but I haven’t forgotten you at all. Where are you? I think the police are still searching. They better be, you’re too precious to me to lose.” deep breath “Come back, Y/N. Come back. Everyone’s asking me where you are, and I don’t know and they keep reminding me that you’re gone and everything is haunting me and-” sigh “I’m rambling again. Take care.”

❝𝘿𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄 𝙙𝙤?❞

“Two weeks. You haven’t even seen my messages, let alone these voice notes, but they’re still delivered. Please, Y/N, this isn’t funny anymore- ignore the voice crack. No, I’m not crying. Like- I do care- um- about you…but I’m not crying. I miss you the most. I don’t have a study buddy now ever since you well…disappeared. Kinda falling behind on classes, but it’s fine. I’ll catch up.” weak giggle “Take care.”

❝𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨 𝙗𝙮❞

“One month. Since you’re never going to hear these voice recordings, I might as well just say gibberish or odd confessions, hm?” weak laugh “They’ve given up. Your parents, the police…everyone, really. But I haven’t. I know you’re there – somewhere. I’ve been producing more songs to cope. You know how much I love doing that, I mean- it’s why I chose music as my major. Take care.”

❝𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩, 𝙖𝙣𝙙, 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙯𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩❞

“Two months. You know, today I passed by a wishing well. I threw a coin, and guess what I wished for? I wished you back, Y/N. Come back, please. I’m not requesting you at this point, I’m begging. Everything’s become worse without you, or at least that’s what Minho says. He’s a bit wild, so I’m not believing him. Where are you, mm? I’ll come there, and I’ll meet you – even rescue you if necessary!” faint hmph “I miss you. I miss you loads. Take care.”

❝𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙣 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙩❞

“Five months. Since you don’t seem to have heard any of these, I guess I can really just say shit, huh? Well then, I love you. Like- you know- romantically.” nervous laugh “Yeah, cliche. Dumb move. Fuck, fuck, shouldn’t have done that- but it’s out and true- I guess. Ever since last year when we…ah, leave it. Take care.”

❝𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪❞

“Eight months. I love you. I love you. I love you, Y/N. Please, I need you back. Everything’s so dark without you. You know that you’re my driving force, right? Right? I need you here desperately.” sniffle “Y/N. Y/N. Please. I don’t- I don’t know how I can do this anymore.” whimper “I can’t- can’t lose you. Take care.”

❝𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪❞

“Ten months. Everything hurts. I don’t have the motivation to wake up in the morning, Y/N. Minho says that I’ve become thinner and paler. Other people are saying watered down versions of that. It all reminds me of you. I’m so tired, I don’t know why they suddenly care. Eh, whatever.” dull groan “Shit, I’m ranting again. Ignore it. Take care.”

❝𝙒𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚❞

shaky breath “ Y/N, Y/N, please at least see my messages.” pained whimper “I can’t. I can’t. I need- need you. Badly. Fuck- I can’t bre-breathe.” rattling of pills in a bottle “I don’t want to live anymore. There’s no po-point.” quiet sob “You-You are my muse fo-for whatever I man…manage to…get out of my studio. I love you, I’ve loved you ever-ever since the day we drun-drunk made out.” sad giggle “Yeah, sounds cra-crazy, no?” swallowing sound, gulp “You’re coming back, right? Promise? You are, you are. I’m sure of it.” cursing under breath “Fuck, Minho’s here. Take care.”

❝𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪❞

“Can’t move on from you. I love you too much. I love you, Y/N, and I wish I had the guts to have said it to your face when you were with me. Will you miss me? Maybe you won’t. It’s been a year after all. You’ve probably forgotten about me, about what we had, and frankly speaking? I don’t blame you.” silence “You’re still alive there though, I’m sure of it. Eat well, sleep soundly, drink water, do whatever makes you happy, even if others discourage you, and even if it’s the police, and remember to love yourself as much as I do. I love you from the sun to Pluto and back, note that.” dry laugh “I’ll always have you engraved in my memory. You’ll forever be my first and last thought. Take care.”

❝𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪❞

“Hi Y/N. It’s me, Minho. I know I didn’t talk to you as much as Chan did-” annoyed sigh “I mean, he’s your bestie westie pookie wookie and all that shit, but like- I miss you too. There’s rumors about you being spotted around and you know that I don’t believe in a lot of gossip that goes throught the university grapevine – although I do love listening to it –” slight chuckle “I really want this rumor to be proven true. Make it happen, perform a miracle or something. You always disproved me in arguments, do it again.” silence “Chan, he…he’s in the hospital.” slightly muffled sob “I caught him overdosing on pills, which is what he was doing when he…when he sent you the tenth voice note. A month after that, he tried to kill himself, hence the eleventh one. That was like- three days ago. He’s still…still unconscious, but he’ll wake up soon, I hope. Come back Y/N. We all miss you, and Chan needs you. In his words, take care.”

❝𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠, 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚❞

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lochnessies · 4 years

Text

project triangle strategy ✦ fire emblem: three houses

#project triangle strategy #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem #fireemblemedit #fe3hedit #edelgard von hresvelg #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #claude von riegan #pls don’t let this flop or i’ll cry #mine

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hilariouslyedgy · 3 years

Text

ALL THREE AT ONCE YALL

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30846716/chapters/88280563

#pls don’t let this one flop I’ll actually cry #animaniacs #mine

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neos127 · 3 years

Text

y’all better read this 2.7k nct dream hcs im about to post

i put my heart in soul into it🙄🙄

#it took FOREVER omf #now i need to revise but i’ll post before i sleep #pls don’t let it flop i will cry🤣🤣🤣#!reporting live

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starboystan · 6 years

Text

friends

posting my fic, it might suck but pls be nice I’m nervous

summary: Stan has a secret, he wants to tell his best friend Richie...

words: 3308

here goes nothing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was raining outside the Tuesday Stanley Uris decided it was time to tell his best friend his biggest secret. Seems pretty fitting actually, come to think of it. The rain flowed from the rooftops into the streets of Derry, just like they had 9 years before, on the day Stan Uris first met Richie Tozier.

Before school on the first day of second grade the rain began to fall and didn’t stop until four that same afternoon. A boy was sat at the kitchen table with his mother and father, his feet swinging gently as they were too short to reach the floor. His small tight curls peeked out under the hood of his raincoat as he walked from the front door to the car. It was becoming a Uris family tradition that both Donald and Andrea drove him to school on his first day after summer vacation. It was rare for it to be raining this early into Fall, but little Stan Uris had no complaints. He always quite liked the rain. The gentle patter of rain against his window was something that never failed to comfort Stan on a restless night. Stan got out of the car at school and thanked his parents for the ride. He was extremely formal for a seven year old, a well-mannered and well-behaved young boy. He tucked his satchel under his arm to protect it from the drizzle and headed into the school building. It was very easy for him to find his way to his assigned classroom. He was among the first to arrive, naturally, so he took out his pencils and notepad and sat patiently as his classmates poured in to the classroom.

Six minutes and twenty-seven seconds into homeroom, a dripping wet boy stumbled into the room, tripping over his own feet and apologising profusely. His dark black locks clung to his forehead, a thick pair of glasses hiding the majority of the features of his face. He was directed to the empty desk on Stan’s left. Stan did his best to not be distracted by the boy who continued to fidget and make small noises, obviously trying to get Stan’s attention. The teacher instructed the class to write down a sentence about themselves, Stan was quick to pick up one of his five perfectly sharpened, same sized pencils and jotted down and introductory sentence. The boy beside him sighed with a clear sign of frustration. From the second he walked into the room, Stan could tell that this messy looking boy was unorganised. After a three-minute long struggle, the boy began to ask around frantically for a pencil. No one even considered it, no one but Stanley. It was unusual for him, to say the least. He’d always kept to himself at school, never finding it particularly necessary to collect a variety of friends along the way. But something deep inside pushed him to hold out the third of his five pencils towards the boy sitting next to him “You can borrow mine” he said, the corners of his mouth creeping into a small but welcoming smile. The boy stared back, almost dumbfounded over the fact that someone was helping him. He mumbled out a “thank you” and scrawled down a sentence that was hardly legible to Stan. “Richie, my name’s Richie” the boy says as he hands back the pencil. Stan nodded and said...

“Hi Richie, can we talk?” The house phone was cold against his face. Sixteen years old now, Stan was still fairly quiet to strangers. A whole different story to his friends. Stan was smart and sensible but always had a way of being able to make his friends cry with laughter over a witty comeback or silly joke. “Stanley do you realise that it’s eight in the morning on a Saturday. What’s more important than my beauty sleep?” Richie groaned, his voice giving away that he’d just woken up. “Gonna take a lot more than a few hours to fix you up Richard” Stan rolled his eyes “Can you just come over? This is serious” he said, a little urgently. “Staaaann” Richie sighed “It’s raining, can’t we speak over the phone?” Richie sat up in bed, not yet making any moves to get out of it. “No. You know what? Forget it, I don’t need to talk anymore. It’s nothing” Stan was in a way relieved to say that, his mind racing to figure out a way to expose the secret he’d been keeping for two painfully long years. Richie recognised the tone of Stan’s voice and knew it was urgent “I’m coming”. Before Stan had the chance to protest, the line went dead. Richie made his way down Jackson Street…

towards Stanley’s house, where he spent every minute he could, out playing ball in the yard or trying (and failing) to sit still while Stan looked for new birds to make notes about in one of his special books. The years flashed by fast and the two of them began to expand their friendship. At first just onto two others, and eventually they had a group of seven in total - The Loser’s Club.

The Summer of 91 brought the first signs of hope since the trauma of the summer two years prior. As spring rolled into summer, the sun came back with a familiar face. Beverly Marsh, who had left seven hundred and twenty four days before, was back in Derry. With the group back to it’s full size of seven, the Losers fell back in love with their idle town. But that wasn’t the only instance of love that sparked over the summer. Losing Bev had been hard on everyone, but it didn’t hit anyone as hard as it hit Ben. He realised that he was deeply in love with the fiery haired girl, and he needed to let her know. That brought the beginnings of one of many relationships within the Losers Club.

It was a warm summer night when fourteen year old Stanley Uris came to a realisation. A game of Truth or Dare was spun on its head when Stan pushed himself out of his comfort zone and chose “Dare” for the first time. Six heads snapped up to look at him in shock. He regretted it immediately to say the least. “You have to kiss….” Bev said with grin that was verging on sadistic. Stan clenched his jaw, he’d never been secure within the norm of being straight, and he’d also never kissed anyone. “All of us” Richie chimed in, laughing at the expression on Stan’s face. All Eddie’s talk of germs was racing through his head as he moved around the circle. It wasn’t until he was face to face with Mike Hanlon that Stan became very nervous, fiddling with his sleeves and tapping his toes inside his shoes. It was a fast kiss, barley over a second, but it was enough for Stan to know. He wished he didn’t know. The excitement of his friends quickly died down when Stan left in a hurry, turning back for half a moment to look at Mike before he ducked out of the door and began the walk back to his house. How could he feel like that? Why a boy? What made it so different with him? The thoughts raced around his head the whole way home, and followed him well into the night, keeping him up all night long. He couldn’t understand anything, so he said…

“Nothing, Richard I told you it was nothing” he muttered to the soaked boy who was standing in his doorway in his pyjama bottoms and some ‘edgy’ band t-shirt “Why the hell didn’t you bring a jacket?”. Richie just shrugged and shook his head like a wet dog getting the water off of him “This sounded more important that a jacket Staniel. Can you at least let me in?” he pleaded with his eyes. A sigh left Stan as he held the door open for his best friend “Please just don’t step on the carpet. Dad’ll kill me if it gets wet.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll keep off it. Have a towel or something? It’s fucking freezing” Richie groaned and sat at the kitchen table, causing Stan to visibly cringe. Stan headed to the closet to get a towel for him and returned still frowning at Richie. He had no reason to be annoyed at him, the stress of the situation was getting to him and making him snappy and very irritable. He tossed the towel to Richie and sat down opposite, unsure of where to start. Richie noticed and did it for him “You’re being very…”

“Quiet, even for you. You can talk to me you know, Stan” Richie sounded almost scared. After that night playing truth or dare, Stan went through a lot inside his own head. He was just fifteen, now more closed off than ever before, when he tried to tell Richie the first time. It didn’t go to plan to say the least. The day ended with Stan meeting his lunch again and running home crying. The problem was he couldn’t admit it to himself. No matter what he tried to tell himself, Stan just couldn’t get it out in a way that he could accept. Instead he settled for the idea that he’d never tell anyone and stay miserable forever. But this wasn’t up to him apparently. The Losers we're growing older and to Stans surprise, people seemed to want them around. The parties became more frequent,and hiding became harder. He never drank, didn’t trust himself enough to keep quiet.

The weekend before he invited Richie to his house during the biggest rainstorm in Derry for a long time, The Losers went along to some party at some house out on the outskirts of their small town. “Casey Something-or-Other” Richie had said as Stan drove the Losers up past the Standpipe towards the small suburbs on the edge of town.

The night went as they usually did, Stan slipped off from his friends once they were all busy dancing or talking. He sat himself in an upstairs bedroom until a couple decided they’d prefer to be in there. He wandered down and sat in his car, not noticing the other boy sitting in the back. He turned on the radio and tucked his legs up underneath him, just sitting watching the party go on inside the house and humming along to whatever song that was playing. The sharp clearing of another’s throat nearly stopped Stan’s heart, meaning that the small noise from the boy in the back was met with a yell. The curls on his head bounced as he spun around in his seat to look for the source of the noise. Fear became confusion when his green eyes met the deep, warm brown of Mike Hanlon’s. “Oh, uhhh, sorry Stan, didn’t mean to scare you like that” Mike spoke very quietly, looking everywhere but Stan’s eyes. Something was clearly wrong but Stan didn’t feel right just asking what was up, not after avoiding one-on-one interactions with Mike for almost a year now. “What are you doing in here?” Stan asks nervously, nervous of what he might say and what he might do. “I could asked you the same question” Mike replied quickly, almost defensive. “This happens to be my car, I was just-“ he took a breath and stopped himself from finishing the sentence. How could he tell Mike that he’d been avoiding him without sounding rude. “Just what? Why’d you always disappear at parties Stan? Do you… do you have like a secret girlfriend or something?” Mike speaks slowly and calmly, which makes Stan jealous because he can’t seem to find a way to calm down, his heart is beating wildly and he can’t seem to keep still. “What? No I don’t have a secret girlfriend. I don’t have a girlfriend full stop. I don’t disappear, always stick with you guys. Why’d you want to know anyway?” Stan spoke in a slur, stumbling on his words “Have you been drinking?” Mike frowned, not expecting this from Stan at all.

Stan turned around and flipped the radio off in a swift movement as he shook his head and furrowed his eyebrows, Mike simultaneously shuffled forward in his seat without Stan noticing. “I want to know because you’re my friend Stan, I worry about you. You’ve been pretty distant recently, we’ve all noticed it. I’m in here because I saw you sit in the car the whole time last weekend. I guessed you’d do it at this one too so I wanted to keep you company” Mike said softly, putting his hand on Stan’s upper arm. Stan kept his eyes on the spot where Mike’s hand was touching him, his skin seemed to set on fire under where Mike touched him. “I….I’m fine, you shouldn’t worry about me. I’m okay. You can go in and have fun in there if you want” he doesn’t look up from the connection between them on his arm, a thousand thoughts swam around his head; why hasn’t Mike moved his hand yet? Was he feeling it too? Why does he care so much? These thoughts were interrupted when Mike asked a very quiet question “Can I ask you something?” Stan flashed his eyes up to Mike’s face for a split second “Sure?” Mike took a deep breath like the question held great importance to him “Do you not want to be my friend?” he chewed on the inside of his cheek as he waited for an answer. Stan was taken by surprise, he understood though, of course Mike would think that with the way Stan had been acting around him “Yes, I mean No, I mean….. Mike I want to be your friend. I really do…” a tear fell down his cheek and he was glad he wasn’t facing Mike, but Mike could see, he got ever further forward in the back seat, now very close to Stan “...there’s just so much going on in my head and I can hardly even think straight right now. Nothing makes sense, hasn’t for a long time since I realised I’m… I.. I don’t know, I want to be friends, I really do, I like you, I like you a lot, maybe more than I should and I’m sorry, I’m sorry Mike I’ve not been fair to you but the truth is I-“ he didn’t finish his sentence because a finger hooked under his chin and pulled it to face the boy sitting in the back, who drew Stan into a gentle kiss. The curly haired boy went along with the kiss for a moment before his brain caught up with what was happening. He shot back and spun his body completely to face Mike “What did you do that for!?” his voice was quiet and he was still crying slightly. Mike wiped Stan’s cheeks with his thumbs “I like you Stan. And not the way you’re supposed to like a friend. Like like. And I don’t understand either” The words made Stan feel fuzzy inside, almost like he wasn’t real and all of this was happening in some crazy dream that he’d wake up from any second - except he didn’t wake up. Instead, he leaned forward and wrapped his arm around Mike’s shoulders, hugging him tightly despite the uncomfortable angle due to the car seat. “Come sit here please?” Mike asked, with an unfamiliar look in his eyes. He was unsure, Stan had never seen Mike look unsure before, at least not like this. Stan complied and sat beside one of his six best friends in the back of his mom’s car, not moving or speaking until he felt a strong arm creep around his shoulder and pull him closer. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Stan took a breath and relaxed. He didn’t know what would come of this moment, whether this would seal the deal and give him all he’d wanted deep down or do the opposite, draw the two boys even further away. What he did know was that it felt right. How could something wrong - wrong by the standards of his parents, of his religion, of everyone at school - feel so right?

The two of them just sat there, in the back of Stan’s mother’s car, Stan sometimes crying, sometimes leaning into the taller boy’s chest, until the party was over.

There was no going back from there. He knew for sure and that meant he had to tell Richie, there was no getting around it. That’s why he invited him round on the Tuesday morning following the weekend of Casey Davidson’s. “I have something to tell you. And you have to promise you won’t laugh or get weird or make some stupid joke about it” a monotonous voice comes from the light haired boy facing Richie on the table. Richie raised his hands in surrender and shakes his head “When do I ever make stupid jokes?” he says with a grin. “Richie, please? Cross your heart” Stan narrowed his eyes, his leg shaking slightly under the table. Suddenly Richie became serious, as if the importance of the crossed heart was something as solid as a contract to him. In fact, between Stan and Richie, a crossed heart was one of the realest deals that could ever be made “Cross my heart” he said while forming an X over his chest with an index finger.

Stan’s lungs filled up with air and he slowly let it all out “It’s something I think I’ve known for a while, only I’ve not been able to come to terms with it… until now I guess” he took another breath and looked at the table, foucsing on the tiny detail of the wood grain that he had studied so many times before “I found someone that I like… That I like in a different way from the way I like you or Bev or Eddie. That maybe I even love” Richie smiled and leant forward to pat him on the shoulder “That’s great Stanthony! When do we-“ he was cut off abruptly “Please. Let me finish… I- I like boys. No, a boy. Richie, I’m gay” his eyes crept back up to meet Richie’s slowly, like he was scared of the reaction he might get.

“Stan…” Richie took one of Stan’s hands and nodded at him “It’s okay, it doesn’t change anything, you know that right? You’re still my best friend. Nothing can change that” he sounded calm, almost like he was doing one of his voices, except this one wasn’t to make Stan laugh or annoy him, it was to make him feel safe. Stan searched Richie’s eyes for any sign of falseness or satire but found nothing but warmth, with a small squeeze of his best friend’s hands and a tear rolling down his cheek he opened his mouth to speak again “I love you, you’re the brother my parents could never be bothered to have” With that he stood up and pulled Richie into a hug, not even caring that he was still damp. Richie patted him on the back “I love you too, man. Always been there to look out for me, gotta do my best to do the same for you…” a smirk formed on his lips when he released Stan from the hug “Who’s the lucky fella then? Do I know him?” he gave Stan a playful shove and waggled his eyebrows. Stan snapped back to his normal self and rolled his eyes, although he was still smiling. A huge weight was off his shoulders, and even know Richie was just one of the many people he still had to tell, it was a good place to start.

#pls dont hate it #it (2017)#the losers club #richie tozier #mike hanlon #stanley uris #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #stanlon #stike #it #oof don’t let this flop i’ll cry #okay im done #this is dedicated to stevie and alex #my richie and my mike #love you

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avenging-fandoms · 3 years

Note

PLS he'd come home with a bloody face and blood knuckles bc he got into a fight with a pogue about something stupid, but it actually seems as if he hurt himself and he doesn't stop you from helping him, since you're the only one thats really given him affection

*i know this isn't normally how rafe acts, but sometimes we can imagine things and enjoy fluff sometimes! :)

“rafe? rafe!” you shouted as you lounged in the pool, but he just looked at you and walked inside. you huffed and quickly got out of the pool. you wrapped your towel around your body, sliding on your flip flops and running up to rafe’s room.

the door was closed and you knocked softly. “go away” rafe mumbled and you sighed.

“can’t get rid of me that easy, sugar” you smile as you enter the room, but the smile soon dropped when you saw him sitting on the edge of his bed, knuckles and mouth bloody. “rafe!” you sprinted over to him and sat next to him, lightly holding his chin and turning his head to face you.

“i told you to go away” he whispered and you shook your head, tears softly pooling your eyes. “i didn’t want you to see me like this”

“rafe, what the hell happened?!” you took your towel off and tried to wipe away the blood, but it was dry. “was this a while ago? what happened?!”

“those stupid pogues, yn! there was 3 of them and one of me!" he exclaimed and you watched as he got up, placing his hand on his hip and he took a breath. i sat in my car for a while because i didn't want to come home and have you see me like this"

"rafe.." your voice was soft, heading over to him and replacing his hands on his hips, ear to his chest as you listened to his quickened heart beat. "was it john b and them?" rafe shook his head, and you sighed. "but you didn't see who it was?"

"i did see who it was, yn, i just said they were pogues" rafe's voice had a hint of attitude and you chose to ignore it. you pull away and look up at him, studying the cuts on his face.

"head to the bathroom for me, okay? i'll meet you in there after i change" rafe just looked at you, holding your hand. "what?"

"i don't.. i don't want to be alone, yn" rafe whispered and you nodded, hugging him. rafe let out a soft cry and rested his cheek on top of your head, holding onto you tightly.

"i'm not going anywhere, rafe. i promise. i'll meet you in the bathroom to clean you up, i just have to change before i get hypothermia" you joke and rafe chuckles, sniffling.

"okay" he whispered and kissed your forehead, wiping his nose and heading into his bathroom. you took a deep breath and dug in his closet, finding an old pair of his shorts, tying them so they fit. you took off your bathing suit and draped it over the back of his chair, sliding on one of his shirts.

you put out a t-shirt and sweatpants on his bed for him to change in after you cleaned him up. rafe sat on the edge of his bathtub with his jacket off, a giant bruise on his arm. "oh my boy.." you whisper, running your hand over his hand and kissing the top of it. "do you want to take a shower or a bath?"

"i.. uh.." rafe was shaking, and you hated seeing him like this. normally he was confident, cool as a cucumber. but he was shaking, vulnerable, and it broke your heart. "a.. shower. can you use that nice smelling shampoo?" you smile and nod, running the water and he checks it, nodding. you put the shampoo out and hold the hem of his shirt, rafe placing his hand on top of yours.

you pulled the polo off and held a gasp as you saw his cuts, bruises, and new scars. you felt sick to your stomach. your fingers shook as they hover over the cuts, tears in your eyes. "my god.. rafe.. you should have called me, baby"

"i was embarrassed" rafe was always honest with you. never once did he lie to you, he vowed never to. "can i get in now?"

"of course" rafe stood up and took off his pants, underwear, socks and shoes. even if you two had been dating for 2 years, you still looked away until he submerged himself under the water.

"you're safe now, ray" you whisper, holding his cheek and rubbing your thumb over his cheek.

"can you get in with me?" rafe's eyes finally met yours and you nodded, smiling at him. you took off the shirt and shorts, stepping into the steaming shower. you squirted some of the shampoo in your hand and massage it into his scalp. rafe closed his eyes and sighed at your soft touch.

rafe wasn't used to this. he wasn't used to soft touches, he wasn't used to soft words. rafe was a different person around you, he was kind. he was smiley, he was happy.

rafe rinsed the shampoo out of his hair and looked down at you as you softly touched his cuts, cleaning them and cleaning off the dirt. you stopped when he hissed, and continued when he nodded.

the shower relaxed your boyfriend and you two got out. rafe wrapped the towel around his waist and you wrapped it around your body, rafe sitting on the cover of the toilet. you cleaned his knuckles and wrapped them, bandaging the cuts that were deep and kissing his cheeks.

"yn.." you hum and he takes your hand, kissing your palm. "thank you.. for.. everything you do for me" rafe's voice was quiet and every time he was quiet you had to make sure it was actually him.

"anything for you, rafe. i love you" you smile and hold his chin, kissing him softly. you left the bathroom and dried yourself, putting on the clothes again. rafe dried himself off and changed into the clothes you gave him, laying on his bed.

you opened his balcony doors and stepped out, staring out at the moon and stars. rafe looked over at you and rolled onto his side, resting his head on his bicep. you looked at him over your shoulder and waved him over.

rafe stood up and headed over to you, his arm over your shoulders. rafe was behind you with your hands holding onto his arm. you kissed his bicep and rested your head back against his chest, looking out at the water.

"i wish everything was this calm forever" you mumble against his skin, rafe rocking back and forth softly. "i wish we could run away, rafe"

"soon, i promise. anywhere you want to go" he whispered in your hair and you nod. rafe closed his eyes and laid his chin on top of your head. "i love you"

"i love you too, rafe" you two stood there for a few minutes, soaking it all in, the calm before the storm. "let's go lay down, baby. you've had a long day" you took his hand and pulled him into his room. you and rafe snuck under his blankets, rafe holding you tightly as you traced down his nose. "if you're ever in trouble again, rafe cameron, you c-"

"call you. i got it now" he whispered, kissing you softly. you pulled back and looked at him, hand on his chest. "i promise" you nod and kiss him again, hugging him.

"and.. don't go looking to get your revenge on them. i know it was hard but.. i don't want to clean you up like this again, ray. i hate seeing you hurt"

"i won't, i promise you, sweetheart" he rubbed his nose against yours, thumb against your jaw. he kissed you again, pulling you tightly to him. "i promise" he whispered, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep as you drew patterns into his back.

rafe wanted to cry when he felt your soft touches, the feeling foreign to him. you vowed to him to always be kind to him, and that vow you kept, even when he did something stupid and made you angry, you still scolded him in a nice way. and rafe listened more to you than to anyone when he wasn't screamed at.

rafe felt loved, safe, vulnerable around you. he never felt like that before with anyone. rafe made you feel protected, heard, beautiful. you two needed each other, and neither of you were letting go any time soon.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron blurbs #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fluff #outer banks #drew starkey

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alisblackgf · 2 years

Text

reconciliation

chapter: one! :)

trigger warnings: NONE! just sweet things

pairing: ryan erzahler x gn!reader + nick furcillo x reader at the end (reader will have chemistry with everyone)

summary: after healing from a bad breakup, you decide being a camp counselor at hackett’s quarry summer camp would be a great experience, especially since your best friend emma was going; but then you see ryan, the guy you broke up with, and all hell breaks loose.

taglist: @sweet-daisies @tywrites @walkingus @boggoswife @yawagucci @rainbows-dreams @aspendvd @bloodverz @laracrof7s @raeluvserzahler @jjkk1m @zomworlds @homebyeleven @starjane312 @m-maxie-ie @hardcore0simp @wolfsquad @fallingwings26 @sugxrbxbyqueen @elliesbeautifulwife @renbittt

author’s note: i have an odd feeling that this is gonna flop but oh well (if it does i’ll cry). this chapter is boring but i can’t just jump into the action IM SORRY. also enjoy the nick x reader at the end to make up for the boringness! ALSO im planning to make reader a badass so stay tuned for the character development pls

“hurry up, we’re gonna be late!” emma squealed.

“i’m trying!”

“well, try harder!” she walked over to you, shoving all your stuff into the bag and zipping it up with ease.

“how did you-”

“c’mon!” she grabbed her bag and waited for you outside the front door of your shared apartment. you two had the bottom floor which meant it was less time consuming to get to the car, which also meant you’d be there at least only a little late. you picked up your bag and rushed out the door, and emma locked it after making sure you had everything. as you two started walking to the car, she looked over at you to see the anxious expression on your face.

“what’s wrong?” emma asked.

you shook your head before answering, “what if ryan’s there?”

“we’ve been over this, (y/n),” she took out the car keys and unlocked the car, making her way to the trunk with you following behind. “he won’t be there.”

“what makes you so sure? he’s been going for years. years!” you emphasized.

she opened the trunk of the car and placed her bag inside. you did the same with yours and she closed it.

“you told him you’d go this year when you two were still together, right?” she asked, more of a know-it-all statement than a question. she opened the driver’s car door and sat, closing the door and preparing for a 5 hour drive. you sat in the passenger’s seat.

“yeah? what does that have to do with anything?” you asked, closing the door behind you. she turned on the car and began to reverse out of the parking lot.

“if you’re gonna be there, why would he wanna be there?” she questioned matter-of-factly. she shook her head at your silence. “don’t worry about him, worry about how much fun we’re gonna have!”

“oh yes, so much fun out in the woods...away from all civilization..”

she laughed at your pessimistic response and kept driving to your destination. there was silence for a few minutes, before emma asked you to put on some music. you connected the aux cord to your phone and put on a playlist full of your favorite songs. emma seemed satisfied, so you let it play. you quickly fell asleep after, since you were bored and had nothing better to do for the next 5 hours.

~~~

“okay, we’re here!” emma exclaimed.

“we’re where?” you quickly lifted your head and clearing your throat to get rid of the rasp in your voice. as you unplugged your phone from the aux and placed it in your pocket, you observed your surroundings while getting out the car. the area you were in was pure dirt, with some parked cars. a metal gate surrounded the perimeter of it.

“it’s where we drop off our cars, mr. chris hackett comes and picks us up from here.” emma explained, rolling her eyes at your lack of knowledge. a group of people who looked like they were around your age were standing at the gate across from the one emma had parked at. you two walked over to them after taking your bags out the trunk.

“are you guys also counselors for hackett’s quarry summer camp?” you asked drowsily.

“yeah, are you?” a buff guy with a hat responded.

emma nudged you and whispered into your ear. “ooh, he’s cute!” you rolled your eyes and laughed quietly before nodding at the guy. emma looked around and didn’t see ryan anywhere. she nudged you once more, whisper-shouting that he wasn’t there, and you loosened up at the fact.

“name’s jacob,” he introduced. “what about you?”

you would’ve thought he was talking to both of you if he wasn’t eyeing emma so hard. you left them to hit it off as you took out your phone and attempted to occupy yourself until someone tapped on your shoulder. you turned your head to see who it was.

“hi, my name’s nick.” he held out his hand for you to shake.

“hey, i’m (y/n).” you smiled and shook his hand. he stood next to you wondering what to talk about before you finally spoke up.

“i would be lying if i said your accent wasn’t alluring. are you from australia?” you asked, curiously.

“oh! uh, yeah, i am.” he nervously chuckled, smiling at your compliment.

“how’re the spiders?” you gave a smug look and he laughed.

“they suck.” he responded, winking at you.

“i can only imagine.” you gave a bright smile, putting your phone back into your pocket. “did you...want to listen to music with me?” you asked, unzipping your bag to retrieve the wired earbuds you brought. you plugged them into your phone before zipping the bag back up.

“yeah, of course.” he stammered, quickly but gently taking the one you handed him. he scooched closer to you.

emma subtly poked her head to see what you were doing, and gave a genuine smile when she saw you with nick. she poked her head back in and continued speaking to jacob. both of the conversations were cut short when a van pulled up to you all. you could hear it turn off as a middle-aged man, who you could assume was chris hackett, stepped out.

“ready to go?”

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lostsinthelights · 7 years

Photo

ok so I’m very uncomfortable posting these but I want taylor to know my face (and my dogs butts lmao) and just tell her how much I love her, so here we go 🍃🍂💖 // @taylorswift

#so this is me #I’ve literally never posted my face on here before so #pls pls pls don’t let this flop #I’ll cry #Taylor Swift #mine #personal

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steviespanties · 3 years

Note

can u pls write something about Billy fucking Steve in front of a mirror until he starts to cry?💘

OHH anon you're in luck!! Ages ago I wrote this tiny snippet, so this is a great opportunity to expand on it!! Thank you for asking so kindly.

So, Steve very much likes the sliding mirror door of their wardrobe and the way it can be opened to be right in front of the foot of their bed. It’s hot. He knows Billy loves it, though. He gets this proud, hungry expression on his face when they fuck in front of the mirror that is absolutely mesmerizing to witness.

They don’t do it all the time with the mirror there, but this evening is one where Steve’s on his hands and knees, watching his hair flop into his face and Billy’s flushed, delighted form behind him. He’s exhausted from a long day at the salon and Billy wheedled him into a round of rough fucking with “I’ll do all the work, promise” and his most charming smile. How could Steve resist that? And oh, is Billy keeping that promise.

Steve can see his own mouth hanging open. Wet and pink, drool-slick lips unable to close around the moans that tumble from his mouth. The pace Billy has set is brutal and shakes Steve’s entire body and the bed alongside every enthusiastic thrust. He’s so slick with lube that Billy’s cock glides in and out of him with unhindered, squelching movement that rubs on his inner walls till heat pools in his belly. He’s so close already.

Behind him, Billy shines with sweat and appreciation. His gaze is fixed on their reflection, the way their bodies move together. Their eyes meet and hold each other’s gaze and Steve knows he’s being seen and adored. Billy’s hands roam over his back and down do his hips. One wraps around his dick and gives him a wonderful, mind-meltingly intense upwards twist that makes his balls tighten and his concentration fizzle into nothing but pleasure.

“Fuck,” is all Steve can coherently string together as Billy strips his dick in earnest and the orgasm takes him down onto his elbows, Billy going with him like a heavy blanket draped over his back. His gaze is still fixed on the mirror, where he watches the way Billy’s expression shifts and twists as he comes as well with a groan.

It’s a sort of voyeuristic and self confident pleasure that the mirror fuels in Billy and turns him on. Steve knows this. Loves it, if he’s being honest. They fall to the side and he squirms in the aftershocks that fizzle almost-too-much through his nerves as his hole pulses and his dick gives a half-hard twitch when Billy wraps his arms around his chest and pushes somehow even closer to his back.

"Let’s go another round,” Billy begs him. Steve's brain feels fried and electrified at the same time. Wiped clean from coming, dick wet and oversensitive and yet he wants. He wants all that attention to stay on him. Wants to feel Billy’s skin slide against his and his cock to spread him open one more time.

He moans, half in anticipation, half in lazy protest. “’m tired.” Billy plants a kiss to the side of his throat and sneaks a hand underneath Steve’s head to he can angle him up and around, twist his unresistant form far enough that they can meet in a proper kiss. One that tells him all the ways in which Billy desperately wants him and wants to take care of him. It splits his heart wide open and makes him sigh out a breathless “alright, alright.”

The second round, he barely catches a glimpse of his own face. Not when he’s got it buried in the sheets to muffle his overtaxed whimpers. Billy has somehow managed to shift them far enough around that as he keeps Steve on his side, one leg held up, his entire torso is on display in the reflection in front of them. Steve catches glimpses of his flushed chest. His dick, growing painfully hard when Billy slowly spreads him open and pushes the tip of his cock against his sensitive rim.

It’s a teasing movement. One that entices Steve to get a full view of how Billy unravels him. Every twitch of his body, every kick of his dick. The way his own chest heaves for breath and Billy grins behind him with that hungry, beloved gaze drinking Steve in.

He enters Steve in a smooth, slow glide. Steve can’t help but moan, long and drawn out. Behind him, Billy’s own groan reassuringly vibrates against his back. It’s too much. It’s not enough, pace so slow Steve starts to ache and try to chase more, just a little more with a twist of his hips. The new angle makes Billy’s cock brush over his prostate in a flush of warm pleasure. It’s so fucking good.

Their sweaty, overheated bodies seem to melt together into nothing but syrupy slow friction and heat. He loses himself in it, feels time slip away from him till a floodgate opens and his eyes overflow with hot, overwhelmed tears.

Billy coos into his nape. Plants kisses to the back of Steve’s head and says “you’re doing so well. You’re so beautiful. I can’t get enough of you, baby” and the words swirl through his head like a loop that winds itself tighter and tighter. Until Steve’s filled with nothing but affection and love that make the pain and exhaustion so much sweeter in his pleasure, making his body dissolve into helpless, cathartic sobs.

He catches a glimpse of his reddened eyes and cheeks before he buries it against the sheets. There’s fabric underneath his fingers and then there’s a hand wound through them that he clings to while he shakes apart on wave after wave of love and pleasure. Held together by the man he loves.

finally, Billy drags his dick from Steve in careful movement, having come somewhere between Steve blacking out and basking in the aftermath. Come and lube slip out of him, but he can’t bring himself to care about the mess. They huff at the ache in their limbs. Cuddle closer together when Steve turns around and wraps his arms around Billy’s back, feeling so wrung out he can barely keep his eyes open.

The kiss they share is barely a brush of their lips. Billy gifts him a rare, achingly sweet smile.

#harringrove #asks #bottom!steve #top!billy #mirror sex #hope you like it anon #and thank you in inadvertently aiding me in my Make Steve Cry More 2k22 agenda >:3c

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dancingazaleas · 3 years

Text

eren yeager | best friend’s brother (smut)

ok i’m sure this is kind of surprising since i don’t really speak of eren

also no i don’t want to talk about how this is based off of victorious

warnings/notes: cursing, mikasa and eren are brother and sister, drummer!eren, modern au, secret relationship, everyone is 19, nsfw, eventual smut, slight dubcon, slight vouyerism, spanking, clit slapping, degradation, slight praise, choking, tummy bulge, edging, overstimulation, breeding kink, minors dni with this post pls, tell me if i missed anything

you know exactly who’s all going to be home whenever you call mikasa. but you still ask, like you always have, in order to lessen suspicion.

“it’s just me, eren, and zeke. i think zeke has pieck over tonight,” she sighs in slight annoyance, “wanna watch a movie when you come over?”

you tell her yes just as you turn on mikasa’s street. you both hang up with a goodbye, and you feel excitement bubbling in your gut as your car drives you closer and closer to eren. you practically jump out of your car whenever it’s parked on the curb of mikasa’s house.

you squeal while skipping up to the front door, punching in the numbers on the keypad lock without looking. you shut the door quietly after you enter the home, taking in the multiple smells from all three siblings living in the house.

you’ve got to hand it to zeke, he’s got amazing taste. whenever grisha and his mother died, he inherited a lot of money from them and decided to buy himself a home. however, it changed when he found out eren’s mother died and that eren and their adoptive sister, mikasa, would be going into foster care. and with zeke being 19, a legal adult, he managed to fit the roll as a guardian for the two of them. they’ve all lived together for a couple of years now, and you’ve come to enjoy the dynamic between them all whenever you’re staying there for a while.

“oh hey, (name). when’d you get here,” zeke asks whenever you walk into the kitchen, he’s probably getting himself those finger sandwiches he buys himself.

“just now. mikasa in her room,” you stretch and peek over zeke’s shoulder to see what the fridge contains.

“should be. can you get out of my fridge,” he nudges you back with his elbow, which you ignore.

“do you have any baby belle cheese,” you shove him aside with your hip.

“yeah, we do,” you turn to look over your shoulder to see eren walking into the kitchen.

you have to stop yourself from running into his arms, instead starting to rummage through the drawers of the big refrigerator. zeke leaves the kitchen, but you only know that because eren’s front his pressing against your back and warm arms wrap around your waist and his head head rests on your shoulder to whisper in your ear.

“didn’t tell me you were coming over tonight,” he mocks disappointment while you take a baby bell cheese.

“wanted it to be a surprise,” you smile, stepping away from the fridge and opening the packaging of the cheese. eren still clings to you.

“it was a nice surprise,” he kisses at the back of your ear while he squeezes you tight.

you turn your head to look at eren, puckering your lips for a sweet kiss.

eren, not being able to say no to you, obliges and gives you a sweet and lingering kiss on your lips. he pouts whenever you pull away and plop the cheese in your mouth, moving away from him to throw away the wrappings.

“ask mikasa to watch a movie with me,” he requests—more like demands.

“sure,” you nod, “i’ll see you in a few minutes.”

you trudge out of the kitchen and up the stairs, barging into mikasa’s dark room. you watch her jump in her bed, obviously frightened with the abrupt entrance.

“hi hi,” you chant while closing the door behind you, jumping onto her bed next to her.

“you scared me.”

“i know,” you roll your eyes, “wanna watch a movie downstairs?”

“depends... what movie?”

you hum, “maybe the addams family, something like that.”

“yeah, if it’s the addams family then i’ll watch,” she says, scrolling through instagram.

“wanna see if eren will watch,” she asks you while she likes a post by sasha on her phone. the picture was of her, jean, and connie.

“sure, i’ll text him,” you pull out your phone, immediately pulling up eren’s contact and messaging him.

luckily, you’re able to hide the lovey dovey messages sent from eren. you text that mikasa does want to watch a movie and to be downstairs in three minutes.

“he said yea,” eren hadn’t even replied yet.

mikasa and you get off of her bed, making your way down the hallway and down the stairs while talking.

“popcorn?”

“yea, sounds so good right now,” you sigh happily, “we gonna cuddle?”

mikasa snickers at your question, “of course.”

you laugh a little before pushing her in the direction of the kitchen, settling yourself down in the middle on the long sofa. you pull up the addams family on the tv, smiling gently whenever eren comes in the room with his phone in his hands.

“sit at my feet, i’m cuddling with mikasa,” he scoffs at the claim, but puts your legs in his lap.

mikasa comes back into the room with a bowl of popcorn in her hand and some sodas in her hands. she manages to flip the light switch off in the living room while on her way to put everything on the coffee table in front of you. mikasa sits down when you lift your head, welcoming the weight of your head coming down her clothed thighs.

before you start the movie, mikasa asks eren, “do you have rehearsal tomorrow?”

“yeah. jean and annie’ll be here at like 11,” he sighs in slight frustration just as you start the movie.

“sucks for you,” you snort absentmindedly, pulling the bowl of popcorn into your body on top of your stomach.

eren flicks your leg with his fingers while mikasa ignores the both of you and continues to watch the movie.

during the movie, you notice a text from eren that asks you to stay with him after his rehearsal tomorrow, claiming that mikasa and zeke should be out of the house.

you turn off your phone with a giddy smile. you have a good feeling about tomorrow.

————

you’re laying in eren’s bed while he practices his drumming with his band in a few rooms over. you text mikasa the whole time, who’s telling you about some drama between zeke and her cousin, levi. well, it’s not really drama, levi and zeke just have a love-hate friendship. it makes you laugh, especially since the usually cocky and narcissistic man known as zeke was usually getting his ass chewed out by levi.

“i’m so horny,” eren groans while he walks into the room. menace.

you roll your eyes at him, continuing to text mikasa. eren’s pouting as he flops down next to you, face pressing against your neck.

“didn’t you just get out rehearsal? how do you have energy after drumming for an hour and a half,” you ignore the nipping of eren.

“‘dunno,” he sighs against your skin, sending chills up and down your spine.

you shut off your phone, throwing it to the side and pulling eren from your neck. you kiss him, to which he reciprocates happily, while he goes to straddle your waist.

his hands are already groping at your chest and his breath is already heavy against your mouth.

you pull away, “have you been horny since the beginning of rehearsal??”

he grumbles out a yes while he bites and sucks at your neck. your laughter is interrupted by a gasp when eren bites particularly hard on your neck. his hands creep up under your shirt, only to find a surprise.

“you’re not wearing a bra,” he asks, pushing the shirt up over your boobs.

“didn’t feel the need to,” you mumble with embarrassment as eren’s eyes stare at your chest.

without a second thought, his lips are attached to one tit, sucking hickies onto the skin around your areola. you whimper when he punches and twists a nipple with his fingers, chest slightly bucking up and burying his face further into your tits. eren feels like he’s in heaven.

when eren pulls away, he takes a moment to admire your tits. bruised and abused, glistening with his saliva under the lights in his room.

“pretty,” he mumbles, finally pushing your shirt entirely off of your body.

you wiggle your hips as a signal that eren takes. he’s ridding himself of his shirt and pants before he takes off your own pants. his fingers just barely swipe across the outsides of your thighs, giving you goosebumps.

eren’s spreading your legs apart, staring at the wet stain on your panties. you try to push your hips in his face, but eren swings his left arm around your hips to hold them down. his right hand is teasingly stroking your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear. each swipe of his thumb has your whole body tensing, something that has him smirking.

“please,” you bite your lip while you stare into his eyes.

instead of indulging in your desires, he’s pulling his body away from the spot between your legs. only to take off your underwear, and then settle between your legs again.

“you’re all wet and i’ve barely done anything,” he comments, running a fingertip against your slit.

you whimper whenever eren shoves two of his fingers inside of you unexpectedly. he doesn’t give you time to adjust to his fingers, immediately setting himself a tempo as he fucks you with his fingers.

moaning and acting without thinking, your hand tugs at his long hair. he almost immediately pulls his fingers outside of you, fingertips slapping at your needy clit. your hips buck while you apologize.

“pull my hair like that again and you won’t get to cum,” he resumes his finger fucking, slightly smiling at how your hands immediately go to grip at the sheets now. he’s trained you so well.

“do you hear that,” he snickers while curling his finger, squelch sounds following after.

“cumming! cumming,” you pant a few moments later, eyes squeezing shut.

eren immediately pulls his fingers out of you, resulting in a cry from you. he laughs sadistically as he repeats the process over and over and over again, so much that you’ve lost count, tears now running down your cheeks. he lets you come this time, admiring the blissed out look on your face as you moan wantonly.

but his hand moves to your clit now, listening to your pleading that you’re too sensitive.

“shut up and take it,” he stops his maneuvers on your clit to slap your clit again.

you yelp and buck your hips, starting to open your mouth to plead until he starts rubbing your clit again. you orgasm quickly, back arching against eren’s mattress.

“eren,” you whimper, legs shaking while eren pulls his hand away.

“what do you want, pretty girl,” he sits on his knees, looking down at your crying face.

“more,” you sniffle, small hand reaching out for him.

“more of what,” he raises a taunting eyebrow, catching your wrist in his hand, “c’mon, use your words, you’re a big girl.”

“you... more of you.”

“that’s not an answer,” he reaches down to wipe away a tear.

“want you inside me,” you pout and wiggle your hips again.

“you want it or need it?” he smirks while tilting his head.

you whine, “need it. need you here, ‘ren.”

you guide his hand to your tummy while you speak and eren feels his cock throb in his boxers.

“fuck,” he groans, roughly flipping you over to lay on your stomach.

you yelp, reaching out to hold onto the pillow your head was just laying on. he’s forcing you to arch your back, and the way he forces you to do it is almost unrealistic. he’s tossing his boxers across the room for him to search for later, reaching down to pump his cock in his hand.

his hands lay heavy on your ass, spreading your plump cheeks apart to get a better view.

your cheek squishes against the pillow as you stare at him over your shoulder, needy pout on your face. he chuckles at your eyes closing whenever he finally shoves his huge cock inside of you.

“so big,” you sob, “so big, ren.”

he ignores you, pulling him cock out of you until the tip before slamming his hips against your ass. you yelp as soon as eren starts to thrust in and out of you ruthlessly. so hard that you’re sure you’ll have bruises on the back of your thighs for a few days.

however, his hips still whenever he hears the front door of the house creaking open and a voice calling out.

“eren! i’m home,” mikasa calls out while she shuts the door behind her.

you reach your hand back to shove eren off of you, not wanting to risk the chance of mikasa even hearing you. eren grabs your wrist with one hand while the other slaps your asscheek harshly.

“okay, i’m about to take a nap,” he replies to mikasa, knowing full well she’s already making her way up the stairs.

“okay,” she replies, going into her room. her room that’s right next to eren’s.

“eren,” you whisper, “she’s gonna hear.”

“don’t act so innocent,” he growls, “i bet you want mikasa to hear. to hear just how you’re getting fucked like the slut you are.”

you whimper, “no... no.”

“want her to hear how good you’re feeling,” eren smiles sadistically as you turn your head to bury your face in the pillow.

he hears your whining faintly whenever he starts to thrust his hips again. your moans are being muffled by his pillow, and even so, you’re sure that mikasa knows what’s going on by the sound of eren’s skin slapping against your own.

he puts his hands onto your shoulders, leaning his weight onto you as he speeds up his thrusts. you’re almost screaming in his pillow now, nails clawing at the sheets under you.

“gonna come,” he groans breathily, “you gonna come when mikasa’s in the next room over?”

he watches you nod your head, which makes him bite his lips while releasing a groan.

he whispers in your ear, spitting out a command for you, “go ahead. go ahead and cum like the slut you are. give mikasa a show.”

you moan loudly into his pillow, pussy fluttering around his fat cock as you orgasm.

he fucks you through it, not slowing down his fast and vigorous thrusting.

“hurts,” you cry.

“don’t care,” he says, reaching a hand around your body to grip onto your neck.

he’s pulling you up with him, back flushed against his front as he thrusts wildly. you look like a mess, saliva dripping down your chin along with your tears, eyes glossed over.

your hand touches against your tummy gently, whimpering at the feeling of the bulge that is eren.

“feel you,” you mewl quietly, “feel you here, ‘rennie.”

he presses the hand not wrapped around your neck against your tummy, groaning out. his thrusts speed up at full speed, something he does not do often, but eren’s eager to fuck his seed inside of you.

“gonna cum, gonna fuck my kids into your slutty pussy,” he grumbles, slapping a hand over your mouth whenever it opens to moan.

“you want that, huh? w-want me to fuck a kid into you? maybe then mikasa’ll get the hint,” his voice is shaky when he feels you tighten around him.

he snickers, “fuckin’ slut. tightening around me whenever i spew that shit. you want her to hear you being fucked stupid, huh?”

you shake your head while you shut your eyes again. another orgasm is approaching, and you’re not sure that you can handle holding it in.

eren notices and decides to take pity on you.

“go ahead, cum,” and you do. you gush all over his cock and sheets, hands scratching at his wrist as you scream into the palm of his hand.

“fuck,” he hisses whenever he feels his balls tighten.

he comes not too long after you, finally slowing his pace down to a grind. he lets you drop onto the bed on your tummy, spreading your legs open to admire how his cum leaks out of you.

you’re absolutely sure that mikasa heard, but you’re too fucked out to care. she’ll confront you if she knows, and that’s when you’ll worry.

but then again, your best friend’s brother is irresistible.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #tw: dubcon #eren aot #eren yaegar #attack on titan eren #snk eren #eren x you #eren smut #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager smut #eren jeager #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #aot smut #snk smut

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missluckycharms · 3 years

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can you do a imagine where y/n plays volleyball and she gets hurt and h take care of her?

A/N: hiii! I hope you like this! I also had to look up some details about volleyball as it’s not really that commonly played here in Ireland, if I say something wrong pls ignore it I tried my best. The vaccine is kicking my ass rn, I got my second dose so if this sucks and there’s mistakes pls ignore that also 😭 Enjoy !!

This is college!Harry and Y/N I hope you don’t mind !!

Warnings: talks of smut, strong language and Harry being a sarcastic loveable asshole.

Today was not Y/N day.

First of all, she woke up late, giving her only twenty minutes to get ready and make her way to college, which is usually a thirty minute drive without traffic. She was like a lightening bolt running through her apartment, falling over Harry’s shoes that were just abandoned around her room and trying to find any clean clothes as Harry came over last night and as usual, he distracted her from doing what she needed to do, which was her laundry.

He was asleep while she did all this, her small huffs and puffs picking up his shoes and throwing them into the corner didn’t even cause the lazy log in the bed to move once, his body tucked up under the covers as his face smushed against her purple sheets as he let out small snores, she looked at him and silently wished that was her. She was lucky she packed her gym bag last night before he arrived over, all of her clothes, her ankle braces, her knee pads and her favourite trainers she wears for games all packed into her bag and all she needed to do was pick it up and throw it into the trunk of her car along with her book bag.

She kissed Harry’s forehead and again, he did not even move, he may of given out a slight hum for a grumbled word but Y/N didn’t have time to contemplate what he said, she was rushing out the door wearing clothes that were probably Harry’s as the joggers were nearly falling off her as she ran. She didn’t care though, she needed to be in her first lecture or her grades would go down. She made it to campus with only thirty seconds to spare, she doesn’t know how she wasn’t pulled over for driving faster than the speed limit when she saw the campus come into view. Her body ran through the halls, dodging anyone in her way as she dragged herself to the lecture hall where her professor was probably already starting lesson, his usual morning introduction as everyone set up their laptops or notepads for the hour lecture ahead.

She got a disapproving look from her professor when she slide into a row, flopping down onto the seat and apologising as she rummaged through her bag looking for her laptop. Her professor was already going over what they would be covering today when she realised she doesn’t have her laptop. Then she remembered where it is, it’s in her apartment in the bathroom.

Harry insisted they had a bath last night to relax her after she took some exams in college that day, the pair were soaked under the bubble filled hot water with her laptop propped up on the sink playing a show on Netflix as they relaxed and spoke about their day. She grabbed her notebook and pen and immediately began to scribble down the notes she would have to transfer onto her laptop tonight, if Harry doesn’t distract her again. She knows he might not, he has classes of his own today, his starting later than hers and his classes only being on four days a week instead of five like Y/N, yesterday was his day off, hence why he was being a needy little shit and clinging to Y/N like his lifeline until they fell asleep.

The day dragged out for Y/N, her usual one hour classes feeling like four hours, her notes taking for ages to write up as she tried to keep up with what was being displayed on the board, her lunchtime consisting of her bumming off her friend for a few dollars to get something to eat as she left her purse at home, her friend didn’t mind but she felt awful for asking. When the day finally ended she was relieved, all she wanted to do was get into the gymnasium and play some volleyball with her team to get all the anger she felt today, she was not having a good day and the only things that can help her with that is Harry or volleyball, and because she had training today over their at home game being played next week, she was relieved she could get some stress reliving in before going back to her place where she knows Harry will be — he hates his own apartment as he shares, Y/N only having a one bedroom one that she snagged and Harry being left with a flat thats shared between four people, there’s no privacy there, none.

“You’ve been tense all day, is everything okay?” Abbie, Y/N best friend asks as they begin their warm ups, the two sat on the floor side by side as the stretch their legs and arms getting warmed up for practice.

“Today wasn’t my day, woke up late, forgot my laptop and purse and now I have to go home and type up nearly fifty pages of notes onto my laptop — Who’s idea was it for me to study Biochemistry?” She laughs out, stretching her arms behind her head as Abbie follows suit, the pair watching as the coach shows them what to do, the pair sat at the back to avoid being yelled at for talking.

“I think that was your idea, I certainly didn’t force you to do that. If it helps, environmental studies isn’t easier, I swear I’m constantly writing up lab reports and giving presentations each week” Abbie rolls her eyes, the pair now doing lunges as they continue to chat.

“Shit! I have a presentation next week, I totally forgot” Y/N groans, squeezing her eyes in frustration as she hasn’t even started yet, her mind immediately going to how she has to type up the whole presentation while probably having Harry hang out of her. Harry is studying sports science, in hopes to one day set up his own personal training business. They usually have study sessions together as Harry has just as much work as Y/N, but Harry isn’t as much as a perfectionist as Y/N, he’ll slap together a presentation and call it a night while she has to make it look pretty and aesthetically pleasing.

After a fifteen minute warm up, the girls are already playing a mini match for practice, six players per team, Y/N being up nearest to the net with three other girls. She’s been named as one of the teams best scorers, her jumps are high and her force hitting the ball is something that scares opposing teams when they play competitions. She’s been on the college team for nearly two years now, her whole college course is five years long — she’s aiming for a bachelors degree in Biochemistry, she’s so happy she has something else to do while in here, she knows she would of went crazy if she didn’t have something to calm her down.

They play three games, Y/N’s team wining the first game and the teams tying on the last game due to the positions being switched and she was put to the back to give other players the chance to spike the ball up. She’s back up front on the third game, her body now rested from the small water break they were given in between the games, her body full of adrenaline and ready to play. The game is playing out as usual, Y/N jumping and spiking the ball up and over the net with the help of her team mates, the other team just as good as them as they all battle it out on the court. In the last two minutes is when it all goes downhill, Y/N jumps up to spike the ball, when she lands, she wobbles and falls over, her ankle rolling as she cries out in pain on the court, the coach blowing the whistle to stop the game as everyone rushes around her.

She tries to stand up, she falls back down again, Abbie and another girl holding her up as she shuts her eyes in pain. The coach takes off her ankle brace and sock with her permission, she’s now sitting on the bench as her ankle is iced and checked over by the coach, Abbie helping Y/N by refilling her water bottle when needed, her ankle now propped up on a chair with ice on it as the rest of the team begins their warm downs.

“It’s definitely sprained” Abbie says looking under the ice at her ankle, Y/N wincing when Abbie presses down lightly, jumping when she lets out a small cry.

“Yep, definitely sprained” she says putting the ice back on and sitting down next to her friend as they both laugh a little, the pain easing off with the ice as Abbie distracts her with stories and jokes.

“Y/N, do you have anyone to take you home?” The coach asks, allowing the rest to leave as Abbie stays seated with Y/N.

“I’ll call my boyfriend, thank you for your help” she says as the coach pats her on the back, telling her she can take all the time she needs off while also still being allowed to attend the games to support. She’s devastated about it, but at least she can support her team from the sidelines.

“What happened?” Harry asks running out of his car, the door slamming as Abbie wheels Y/N out in wheelchair given to them by the coach from the injury room.

“Fucked my ankle, doesn’t surprise me honestly, today wasn’t a good day” she sighs s Harry laughs a little, helping her out of the wheelchair and guiding her towards his car that’s parked only three steps away.

“You’re okay now, let’s get you home and rested, yeah?” He says laying her down on the back seat, picking her leg up and resting it on the seat as she winches in pain a little as she adjusts herself on the seat.

“Thanks for all your help, I’ll have Niall come and pick her car up later” Harry says to Abbie, closing the back door and smiling at the girl who’s waving in at her best friend who’s mortified in the back of the car, laughing masking the pain she’s feeling.

“If you both need anything give me a call” she says as Harry nods waving her off as he sits into the car, turning around to look at his girlfriend who’s looking back at him holding in her laugh.

“Only you” he shakes his head laughing as Y/N lets out a loud cackle, knowing he’s right, only her would end up fucking up her ankle even with a brace on it, it’s defiantly a Y/N thing to do.

The car ride home is filled with laughing and a few sing songs as Harry tries to distract her from the pain. He helps her into her apartment by carrying her bridal style up the flight of stairs and placing her down onto the sofa, propping her leg up on the coffee table, raising her ankle up on a pillow as he races to the freezer to find something to put on the injury.

“Okay, all you’ve got is frozen peas” he says placing the green packet down onto her ankle, the picture of peas hilarious as it rests on her skin, the swelling gone down since the gymnasium which is good, as Harry says.

“I’ll run to the store to get you some bandages soon, right now, you need some tea, the sugar will help with the shock you got” he says immediately snapping into Mum mode with her, Y/N smiling at Harry in the kitchen behind her, her head turning and resting on the back of the sofa as she watches him saunter around her kitchen.

“Do you have any homework you need completing? I got all mine done in library period we had today, I’m free to do yours if you have any” he says fiddling with the kettle and switching it on, placing a tea bag into her favourite purple polka dot mug.

“I have to transfer handwritten notes onto my laptop, I can do that” she says as Harry turns around, waiting for the kettle to boil as he looks at her.

“Nope, I’m doing that for you, you need rest! I’m here to help you, I’ll be your nurse” he says turning back around to pour the boiling water into the mug.

“I’m fine Harry, it’s just a small sprain” she fights back, Harry shaking his head as he walks in with her mug filled with warm tea, passing it to her as he sits next to her wrapping his arm around the back of the sofa.

“I’m not leaving you here alone, if you fall what will you do? Get up and walk?” He says sarcastically as she rolls her eyes laughing, resting her head back on his arm as they begin watching the TV before them.

“Also, I expect the same in return if I ever get hurt” he jokes as she slaps his arm playfully, laughing loudly as Harry wiggles his eyebrows at her.

“You’re on top for the next few weeks Styles” she says sipping on her tea as Harry laughs, reaching over to kiss her check.

“I’m always on top, darling” he whispers to her as she pulls back looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Babe, please can you be on top? I had a leg cramp this morning and it might come back” she says lowly, imitating Harry and his deep British accent as he looks at her rolling his eyes.

“I don’t sound like that” he says taking her mug from her and sipping a little from her tea as she takes it back off him with a loud groan at what he just did — he always does it to annoy her, or he’ll dip some biscuits into her tea when she’s not looking.

“Oh yeah, must be what my other boyfriend sounds like” she says riling him up, his head turning to her as she looks at the TV screen laughing behind the rim of her mug.

“You’re lucky you’re injured m’love, if you weren’t you would be over my shoulder and thrown down onto your bed and I’d show you who’s your boyfriend, or daddy as you like” he says wiggling his eyebrows as she groans into her tea.

“It was one time! I said it by accident!” She shouts, turning bright red as Harry laughs loudly, kissing her cheek as she pouts looking down at her mug.

“You know I liked it, it’s okay baby” he says resting her head on his shoulder as she cuddles into him, her empty mug on her lap as she pulls the blanket down from the back of the sofa, placing her empty mug on the floor and throwing the blanket over them both.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you” she says feeling sleepy, her day catching up on her as Harry helps her nurse her injury, his hands fixing the frozen peas on her ankle if they move a little.

“You’d probably break your neck or something” Harry says as she groans looking up at him, his dimples popping out as he laughs at his own joke.

“I’m being nice!” She says as he bends down to peck her lips, their smiles against one another lips as they pull away looking at one another.

“I know m’baby, I don’t know what you’d do without me either!” He says sighing in contentment as she rolls her eyes squishing her face into his chest.

“Harry!”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles fandom #answered asks #anon ask #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles prompts #harry styles blurb #writing #imagine

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