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#this breathes in ways i cant describe
happynewyear-99 · 1 year
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drew this shit for another roleplay
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hinderr · 3 months
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#today on slightly concerning hinderr thoughts hidden in the tags of blank posts is; what if i'd deserved it#like. yknow. every bit of it. everything. i may not have earnt it back then but what if the things id done since and will do in the future#even out the scales and then i cant allow myself to stay the victim any more. what if ill make myself deserve it in the future. yknow#i laugh like my father and i draw like her and when i sit down and listen to any song thats slightly sad im reliving it all over again like#i cant put it down. i cant put it down. i keep picking it up and letting it pierce me through the chest again#took a uquiz earlier and it was the real poetic type yknow? one of the questions was 'where does it hurt?'#there wasnt an answer for 'my chest'. there wasnt an answer that accurately describes the tightness. that claustrophobic feeling like its#hard to breathe. like im miles beneath the ocean's surface. so what i chose instead was everywhere. and its-#this is a very irrational fear i realise. but. alas. here i am#god i want to say all i want is for someone to look at me the way id looked at her but i dont think i can withstand having all that#tenderness directed at me. oh god. is that how itd been for her too#i want to hate. i want to hate. i want to put this down and let it go#i want to tear my skin off my body and let my muscles and sinews breathe. i want to bleed out on the ground until every part of me thatd#been touched by her can just be left behind like an insignificant speck of gore on the ground and i can get up. made entirely anew#and for the love of fucking god finally let it go
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mejomonster · 1 year
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hate panic attacks think they’re possibly the worst experience inside
#rant#i just. they dont end until They end#i am thinking in retrospect that pre life for some awful reason i made a plan to have my body Fighting To Kill me from birth#and like. thats traumatizing and all but not The worst in the sense im used to it#but then panic attacks? god the Only way to make them end is to kill myself#how fucked up. i can breathe i can do everything right but they will STILL go on for 15 minutes to 2 hours no matter how well i cope#so some time sensitive shit happens like fix X NOW or worse happens or talk to doctor NOW to save ur life in hospital#or ur in public NOW and cant escape for 20 minutes it takes to exit public#and its like. okay so i just wont have any brain function for problem solving for 15 min to 2 hours#ill be sobbing hyperventilating shaking and have no problem solving ability for THAT LONG#i feel so helpless. i hate knowing i COULD solve it and fix it and take care of myself but NOPE#brain hit the panic attack mini stroke button jesus christ. so now for 2 hours or less i will be a useless mess#and cannot solve anything or help myself beyond trying to ignore the suicidal impulses.#like at Best i can keep my body breathing and unharmed during a panic attack if ALL goes WELL#but i can't do anything else like drive. like pay a bill. like chat through a problem. like calmly BREATHE#like even explain whats going on cause my entire rational brain is just completely offline while im in literal hell#a panic attack is so awful god i hate them i hate them i dont have words to describe#ive been dying in hospital plenty of times and like enough pure rage and stress is traumatizing for sure#but at least im so angry to survive i can problem solve#but a panic attack? even if i get angry i cant problem solve i just start trying to physically kill myself to make it end#cause illogical panic brain thinks the only way to fix the panic problem is be dead#since like. it is not a fixable problem. its a thing you ride out until its over.
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cinnasweetss · 7 months
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Out Of Bounds (M) - sim jaeyun
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PAIRINGS: jake x female reader, afab reader
SYNOPSIS: in which jake is your little brothers best friend that knows absolutely no boundaries when it comes to you.
GENRE: smut, pwp.
CONTENT: jake is super whiny, one-sided pining, reader is slightly older, overuse of the word ‘noona’, jake def has a thing for older women, mentions of drinking, masturbation (m), mentions non consensual groping, mentions of verbal threats.
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jake is everything but a pleasure to be around. endless flirting, groping, threats aimed at your boyfriend, and other unspeakable things. all done where no one can hear you beg him to just leave you alone, just this once. or hear him grumble about how much he likes you, and won’t stop.
jake is like your brother too, just a little bit more annoying. although his actions can be a bit much, you know he’s a kind hearted boy deep down with pure intentions. even if his actions can be a bit much. it’s nothing you can’t handle.
your never bring this up to your brother either. never would you deny him of a friend just because he has a very insatiable desire for you. boys will be boys! your friends say their siblings friends develop little crushes on them too. but jake’s feelings and wants for you are not little.
so, it’s no surprise that he calls you late at night after a night of drinking with your younger brother. overcome by the feeling of needing to hear his best friends older sister. just to settle him. that’s it.
your phone rings next to your pillow, pulling you from your slumber. it takes a minute for you to roll over, sighing when you pick up your phone and see ‘sim jake’ written across the screen.
“hmm? what is it?”
you know he’s been drinking. that’s why you don’t hesitate to answer. “Just…thinking about my noona.” his noona. you’re always referred to that way. his voice is slow and slurred, hinting at just how much he’s drank by now. “are you drunk?”
you have to say you're flattered. extremely. to be on his mind even when he’s drunk and has likely been around plenty of drunk women says a lot. “a lil- little bit..." you hear an exhale come through the speaker, and another noise follow. "jake, how much did you drink? do you need me to come get you?" you’re sitting up out of your bed, ready to throw on clothes and leave just incase he does need you. there’s a short pause before you hear his voice again.
“Can you- fuck... can you say my name again?" he sounds out of breath, and you can faintly hear some very suspicious sounds coming from the other end. those words mark a new boundary that’s been broken. adding to the multitude of broken boundaries. "what are you doing?" his tone sounded very suggestive, and it makes you stop, pressing your phone closer to your ear. "Thinkin' about you, noona..." he responds, and this time, he moans. "Jake..." you don’t mean to feed into him. not all all. you're just utterly shocked and at a loss for words. but most of all, worried about this would affect your relationship with him. "oh, fuck.” he's shameless in the way he moans, loud and whiny, begging you to say more. "tell me, noona..." he starts, moaning directly into your ear... "y-your panties...what color are they?"
“they’re…red..”
"ahhh, shit." you can hear him struggle with himself like he's imagining you in red panties , likely doing something lewd. "today...in the kitchen. did you like it? when I touched you?" ‘touched’ is too sweet of a word to describe what he did to you. groped, manhandled, fondled, is better. overpowering you when you tried to push his hands away from your chest, beg him to stop before your brother sees. tell him he must learn how to control himself.
“you cant...touch me like that...it isn’t right.” those are words you’ve said to him a million times before. words that go through one ear and out the other without a second thought. "cant help it. fuck, fuck, i'm so close! keep talking, please noona!" you can hear him increase speed in whatever he's doing, which, sounds exactly like he's jerking off.
"you're so pretty, too pretty, noona..." he rambles on in his fit of pleasure. telling you how much he wants to kiss you, and fuck you between very loud moans. "wish I could cum in you instead...agh! I gotta have you...gotta make you mine." his words bring heat to your cheeks despite the vulgarity of it all. "Jake..." you start, the other seemingly seconds apart from coming undone. "yes? yes, yes, noona!" he pants over the phone, whining and struggling to hold himself back from cumming before you get to respond. "maybe one day." those words from you are all it takes, a "fuck i'm gonna cum! i'm cumming! fuck!" being yelled into the speaker as he releases every pent up emotion he has for you in the form of one intense orgasm.
sim jaeyun, is way Out Of Bounds.
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bi-writes · 7 months
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bestfriend!roommate!simon leaves on an assignment, but he needs your help first. (18+)
more bff!roommate!simon (part 9/?)
cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, simon has thicc thighs, lap sitting, fem+m!receiving touching, thigh riding because i cant resist, soft!dom!simon, praise kink, size kink (reader described to be moved/handled easily by him), the mask doesn't come off, simon is a cocky bastard, a lotta angst
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"simon, if you keep moving, i won't be able to finish, quit squirming."
"sorry, luv--afraid you'll prick me with that bloody thing."
you stuck your tongue out at him for a moment before setting back against his thighs. you sat so nicely there, your ass perched on the thick muscle as you worked. you had your tongue between your teeth as you concentrated.
your fingers held a thick needle, weaving it through the fabric of simon's balaclava and the plastic skull plate. he had ruined another piece; he had come home after his last deployment with the skull plate in pieces. he did not explain what had happened to it; you only tried to ignore the streaks of red along the face of it when you watched him throw it away.
you saw him sitting on the couch, trying to sew it together, but his big fingers made it a little difficult; you sweetly asked if you could help. a big plus--you got to sit in simon's lap and bask in the heat of him.
you adjusted, moving around until you were straddling his wide hips. you had to spread your own to accommodate his size, sitting up high to be able to reach the top of his head, weaving the thread through to tie the plastic to the fabric.
"bloody tits are in m'face, luv."
"yeah? never heard a man complain about that before," you laughed lowly. he grunted in response, a gloved hand wrapping around your waist to hold you steady. "what? you don't like 'em?"
he clicked his tongue, shaking his head, and you laughed again, continuing to sew the plastic to the fabric.
"you're gonna look so scary," you smiled wide. "you like looking scary on the field?"
"keeps the little ones at bay."
"everyone's little to you, simon."
"aye."
you snorted, settling in his lap as you were almost finished sewing the mask. you tied off the thick thread when you were finished, using some scissors to cut the excess fabric. you met his eyes as you sat there, and you smiled at him; maybe he did look intimidating, but all you could think about was how those pretty eyes sparkled last night when he came into your hand and how much you were going to miss that look when he was gone.
"the paint, simon?"
he held up a small jar in one hand, and you took a brush from the coffee table and began to draw lines down the face of the mask. you passed over his dark eyes, winking at him playfully before doing the same line on the other half of the mask. you put the brush down, dipping the tip of your manicured finger in it and then starting to draw the lines down where the mouth of his face would be.
you could feel his warm breath against your finger, and you cupped his cheek with your other hand, holding him firm as you drew along the mask.
"i'm going to miss you, simon," you whispered, swallowing hard. you avoided his eyes, focusing on drawing along the cloth. you let out a shaky breath. "i-i mean...i always miss you, but now you're gonna be gone and...whenever you go, you go for a long time, and--"
simon squeezed your waist gently, quieting you. your bottom lip trembled a little, and you looked down, away from him.
"i-i'm sorry. i don't mean to get upset. it's stupid."
stupid. there was nothing stupid about being vulnerable. nothing stupid about baring yourself, being naked to someone in more ways than just the physical. the sex was easy together; it was everything else that simon fought with. feeling. being. loving. the mundane of that love, like coming home.
and coming home was not easy.
"'s not stupid, luv. i know i leave y'here. i know," he shook his head. "i don't do it on purpose, y'know that."
you nodded, "yes, yeah...i know. it's your job. and you're good at your job, and you made a commitment to your team, and they rely on you like you rely on them--i-i know the reasons." you smiled sadly. "i know. i just miss you...that's all."
there was an itch in the back of your head, a hoarseness lodged in your throat--sometimes you wanted to just keep talking, because forbid this be the last time i say it to you.
he hummed lowly, sliding his hands down low and cupping both sides of your ass, bringing you close. you wipe your hands off of the paint, sighing deeply, relaxing as simon leaned back against the couch and held you near. your hands circled around his neck, hugging him back as you breathed in each other--your scent, the sounds of your breath, the feel of each other's warmth.
you cleared your throat, smoothing your hands down simon's cheeks.
"let me get you geared up, yeah?"
you didn't wait for simon to answer. you picked yourself up off his lap, going to where he had his things laid out. you picked up his tactical vest, holsters, his skull-painted gloves, and you brought them back to the couch. simon sat up as you draped the vest over his head, fitting it over his shoulders. you untucked the hood of his jacket from under the vest, making sure it sat right before fastening the straps and making sure it was secure. you tugged on the straps just to make sure, your eyes skimming over the British flag on his chest and the prominent letters spelling SAS.
you busied yourself with switching out his gloves now, replacing the plain black ones with the painted-skull bone gloves. you didn't react to the calloused fingertips or the jagged scars along his hands. simon was so beautiful--every part of him was.
"i'm really proud of you, simon," you said softly. he hummed lowly but said nothing. you kissed his cheek gently, trying to meet his eyes and smile at him. "have i ever told you that?" simon shook his head, his eyes raising to stare intensely right into yours. you bit your lip. "well, i am. proud. you've come so far. they would be proud, too."
you didn't have to specify who they were. simon didn't flinch, but his eyes flickered.
you reached for one of the thigh holsters, sitting back and motioning for him to stand. when he did, you tried not to think about how much simon towered over you like this. he was taller than you, so much broader, taking up so much of your space. you reached up and started to fasten the holsters around his thigh, your fingers skimming the taut muscle there as you buckle it around him. you didn't comment on the fact that you nearly had to loosen the strap all the way just to fit around the thick of him.
you reached for the other holster, fastening it around his other thigh and looking up at him after you had finished. fuck, he looked good like this. he looked so much bigger--the width of him was greater, with you seated, you had to bend your neck back far, and having his back to the window cast low shadows over his face, darkening his gaze and giving him an eerie backlight. but you would never be afraid of simon--even all dressed up.
your lips part gently when his gloved hand cups just under your chin. you mewled lowly, looking up at him with those big eyes and a soft voice. simon knelt down suddenly, widening his thighs to cage you in on the couch and keeping a gentle hold of your chin.
"'m gonna be back before you know it, luv. sittin' right there--" he tilted his head to the spot to your left, "--y'know that, right?"
you broke out into a soft smile, bouncing a little as you nodded your head. simon clenched his jaw under the mask--fuck, you were so cute, so fucking sweet. there was nothing more comforting than knowing you were waiting for him when he came back--that you would be sitting here just like this, with this little smile on your face, your eyes so wide and pretty.
"i know," you whispered. you leaned over, smoothing your hands over the front of his vest before absentmindedly playing with the straps of it. "i know, simon. still going to miss you."
you don't meet his eyes. it was hard; simon was an important part of your life. any time you lived in his absence, it was lonely. now that you lived together, it felt that much lonelier--there was a room cold and unoccupied, an empty seat at the table, a spot on the couch without him in it. his voice soothed no nightmares and his warmth took away none of your shivering. you never told him that when you called; you only spoke of the meal you had cooked that you told him he would like and the annoying step at the entrance that the landlord still hadn't come to mend.
"c'mere."
simon smoothed his gloved hand down your chin, wrapping his fingers delicately around your throat. with a firm grip, he guided you into his lap as he sat back against the couch again, your body easily settling between his thighs again. your face relaxed, cheek smushed against his shoulder as you pressed your lips to the fabric over his neck. you sighed deeply, legs resting on either side of one of his thighs.
your head tilted back, your eyes peeking up to look at him. he moved his own head to the side, and beneath the skull, you could see those pretty dark eyes--beautiful, undeniable need in them. simon was terrible at hiding what he felt behind his eyes--they were warm, and his pupils were dilated, and you wondered if he saw the same pretty things in you that you saw in him.
your eyes fluttered when you felt one hand slide down the length of your spine. a warm, gentle hand, smoothing along the back of your shirt before cupping one side of your ass. you whined, a soft little sound escaping as you jumped slightly. your legs squeezed around his thigh, and you let out a gasp at the gentle grind. you reached up and cupped one side of his face at the first trace of pleasure, your lips pressing to the other side of it as he encouraged you to do it again.
you did. following his guiding hand, you dragged your hips up again, a strangled moan leaving you as you grind against his thigh. but it wasn't enough--as you moved, you whimpered against simon's face, letting out hot breaths of frustration. your jeans were too much of a barrier, not allowing for enough stimulation, and you felt pathetic when you heard simon's low chuckle.
"awww, sweetheart...look at ya..." he reached up with one paw of a hand and tangled a gloved hand into your hair, tugging on it firmly. he grunted as he watched your mouth fall open, slack jawed, drooling a little as you squeezed your thighs around his own. "look at tha'face. fuckin' beautiful, innit? that face you make when you want your cunny all nice and wet...when you want it pet..."
you cried out at that, nuzzling your face into his mask, kissing at the fabric and licking over the strong line of his jaw and hoping to god that he would have mercy on his pretty little roommate. that he would have mercy on her pretty face, on his name tumbling out of her mouth, on the way she grinded on his thigh like a lovesick bunny in heat.
"sound pathetic, luv..." he gripped the back of your neck, holding you at a distance now. he gripped the front of your jeans roughly, undoing the button and pulling the zipper down. "now be a good puppy and take 'em off."
you shimmied out of your jeans, slipping them down your legs and kicking out of them. you were about to slip your panties off, pretty pink lace that hugged your ass so cute, but simon stopped you, forcing you back down to straddle his thigh.
"i like these," he murmured. "want them on."
you smiled, putting both hands on his vest. you gripped it tight, as tight as you could handle kevlar and bulletproof material, and then you nuzzled your face into mouth of his mask and began to ride his thigh. you were shaking. the straps of his holster were catching on your clit, and your hands were growing clammy as you tried to hold onto him for stability. you wanted to be good. you wanted to show simon how good you could be, how if he just unzipped his cargo pants and dropped them low enough, you could ride his cock so good, he'd see the fucking stars.
you hitched yourself higher on his leg, your thighs squeezing around the meat of his thigh, and he grunted lowly when your knee met his crotch. as you bounced, you rubbed up against him, and you squeaked when his gloved hand gripped your hair roughly, forcing your lips against the front of his mask. your mouth dropped open into a silent scream, a choked moan leaving you, and you kept going. you needed to show him, he needed to know--he needed to know that you wanted him, that you wanted this.
you let one hand drop, fall from his vest, and he growled out a string of angry curses when that soft hand gripped his cock through his pants. it was rough, a little aggressive, and you met his eyes easily.
"i want it--i-i want it--!" you cried. "i w-want more--"
he chuckled, and you felt tears prickling the edges of your big eyes as he laughed. your heart ached because you knew he was laughing at you. you sounded broken. you sounded lost. you sounded pathetic, but you couldn't care, you just couldn't bring yourself to. you needed more with simon.
you were tired of the in-between. you were sick of what if, when, the maybes that surrounded the unspoken thing between you. every grind of your hips, every drop of your slick that dampened his pants, all of it was just something in you screaming what are we?
he called your name, and you wanted to care about what he thought, but you needed him to know. you slipped your arms around his neck, moving until you straddled his hips, pressing your cunt right over the hardness stuck in his zipper and continuing your desperate pace.
you were going to make him understand this feeling inside. the gnawing in your chest--the thing that wanted to be outside so bad, it would claw its way out, it would force its fingers through your throat until simon could see that this wasn't a mistake.
this wasn't forgotten moments that lingered after dark. this wasn't the inevitable of a man and a woman who lived together. this was the catalyst of a bond too strong. two things, unable to be taken apart, to be reduced to separate things. there was not a simon riley without you, and there was no you without simon riley, and if he couldn't understand that, you didn't think you would survive the homecoming.
so you were going to fuck simon riley until he understood the knot was tight, and it would never unravel.
"kitty, wait--"
but he couldn't stop you. you swallowed his words, moaning desperately against the mask, your hips chasing the warm buzz that was creeping up your chest and down your thighs, your toes clenching as you notched the tip of his cock right up against your clit and fucked yourself harder against the smooth fabric of his pants.
"kitty--fuckin' christ--"
you sobbed, squeezing the back of his neck as you soaked his pants. your hips stuttered, small little circles that you made as you tried to ride out the trickle of warmth that was covering you like a comforting, pleasurable wave. your body relaxed, and you sucked on his jaw through the mask, tasting the musk and cigarette smoke that lingered there.
"simon--p-please--"
he grunted, pressing on the back of your head to tuck your face into his neck. you sniffled, moody and emotional from coming so hard, and you shook your head.
"y'r not ready for it. not time yet."
"i am," you sounded like such a baby. a cock-drunk pretty little roommate that needed something so desperately, she was so scared of what she might do to have it. to have him. "i am, please--"
"luv--"
"it's not fair," you gasped, pulling back from him. you stared up at him, and he hummed lowly, reaching up to wipe the tears that gathered under your eyes. "it's not fair, why--why can't i--?"
he tsked, clicking his tongue as he got to his feet, and your eyes lowered as he cursed under his breath, adjusting his pants, and you felt a sliver of victory as you realize that you made simon cum in his pants like a teenager.
"i w-won't wait forever."
the air in the room changed immediately. it came out of your mouth faster than you could stop it, and you tensed against the couch as his head turned, snapping to look at you.
"wot? wot did y'just say?"
"nothing."
"look at me."
you grit your teeth as he leaned down and knocked you under the chin, forcing your head to tilt back.
"wot did you just say?"
"nothing," you repeated, firmer this time. his eyes narrowed, two black, dull eyes staring down at you. his gaze was intense, and it was meant to scare you, but simon could never scare you. deep down, you knew he would never hurt you, at least not physically.
emotionally, simon had your heart in his hands, and those hands were not made to nurture. they were made to make pretty roommates cum and to pull dirty triggers. but nowhere in that did it say they were made to love you. nowhere did it specify he would keep it safe. you had given it up, before you had even realized, and he was playing you like his favorite instrument.
but simon didn't know how to play music. and there was a part of you that knew nothing about this was in tune.
when he goes, he doesn't say goodbye. and when you cried, it echoed in an empty room.
you would not wait forever. i will not wait forever.
he will not wait forever.
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ellecdc · 6 months
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Mother..... im so sorry 😭😭 but i swear this ones fun!!
What about another part to poly!moonwater where theres a party but Reg and Rem are running late.
Reg: * anxious and fidgety*
Rem: you know we dont have to go
Reg: no no no we most definetly do, anyway its not that. You havent seen y/n in this environmemt before have you?? She thrives in this kind of environment.
Rem: cant be that bad.....
Reg: 😶 think of Potter, Barty amd my brother in one person.
Rem: 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🥲
So when they get there reader is dancing on tables with Barty and Siri. Just the kind of person who lets go in that kinda vibe, doesnt even have to drink, its just the atmosphere that causes her personality to do a whole 180°. The kinda person you habe to but an airtag on so you dont loose them
I love it I love it I love it I love it
poly!moonwater x fem!reader
CW: mention of drinking, drunkenness and alcohol. Friends looking after their drunk friends. Friends bullying their other drunk friends (lovingly)
Remus was thankful that tonight’s Hogwarts party wasn’t being hosted in Gryffindor tower. Not only did James and Sirius get far too invested before, during, and afterwards, but it was also just harder to enjoy on account of watching what was basically your living room be trashed by a bunch of drunks. 
But tonight, he was going to be able to enjoy a nice time with his friends without any of the responsibility of having to clean up after said friends. 
And better yet, he was going to enjoy a nice time with you and Regulus; the first party the three of you would attend together as partners.
You had been very excited for tonight and had volunteered to help set up, whilst Remus opted to wait for Regulus who had quidditch practice before hand. 
And Remus was currently very happy with his choice as he got to watch Regulus change out of his quidditch gear and into his party attire.
“Would you quit ogling me, you fiend.” Regulus muttered as be buttoned the cufflinks into his dress shirt. Remus would have made fun of him for dressing so formally to a dorm party if he didn’t look so bloody good.
“Nope.” He said, popping the P.
Regulus rolled his eyes, but Remus could see a small smirk playing on his lips.
Regulus let out a steadying breath and turned to Remus. “Are you ready?”
Remus smiled before puckering his lips instead of answering. Regulus looked like he thought he should be annoyed, but ultimately gave in and pressed a kiss to the werewolf’s lips, hovering slightly above him as Remus sat reclined onto his elbows on Regulus’ bed.
Regulus pulled away all too quickly for Remus’ liking and began fussing in front of the mirror again, clearly anxious.
“Are you alright?” He asked gently, sitting up properly.
Regulus sighed but nodded in the affirmative.
“We don’t have to go, you know.” Remus tried, mistaking the boy’s nerves for being reclusive.  
Regulus kind of snorted at that and looked at Remus with a raised eyebrow. “No, we should go. In fact, we ought to go...like, now.”
Remus felt his brows furrow as Regulus headed towards the door, getting up and following him out obediently.
“This isn’t one of those ‘if we go sooner, we can leave sooner’ tactics, is it? Because with James and Sirius, I promise you that won’t work.”
Regulus laughed. “No, though I’d like to point out I am not afraid of those sods.”
“Well, who are you afraid of that has you sprinting to Ravenclaw tower right now?” Remus asked, causing Regulus to grimace a little guiltily as he slowed his stride for the lycanthrope. 
“Sorry... I guess you haven’t seen Y/N at one of these?” Regulus asked.
Remus realized then that your paths had never really crossed until this year, being a year below him and hanging out with a different crowd. “No, I guess not. Why?” 
Regulus laughed. “Oh gods. You’ll see.”
“Come on, she can’t be that bad.” Remus said with a scoff. 
Regulus rolled his eyes and smirked. “If I had one way to describe Y/N at a party, it would be a combination of Potter after a quidditch win, Sirius after four shots of firewhiskey and Barty.”
Remus’ steps faltered as he put the pieces together in his head. Regulus paused as well, making eye contact with him before understanding seemed to cross between them, and they both took off in a sprint towards the Ravenclaw tower. 
As they rounded the last spiral of the staircase, they stepped past the silencing spell that had been placed around it and could feel the vibrations from the music booming in the room. 
A third year Ravenclaw who had been paid for their service in Honeydukes chocolates answered the riddle to allow entrance to Regulus and Remus, and the sight took Remus’ breath away. 
You can dance! You can ji-ive.
You were standing dancing on the mantle of a grand fireplace with Sirius on one side of you and one of the Prewett twins on the other.
Having the time of your lives. Oooooh.
James looked like he’d been trying all evening to get up on that mantle with you guys, but in his inebriated state, Lily was easily preventing him from doing so.  
See that girl!
Both Sirius and... Fabian (if Remus guessed correctly) knelt to dramatically point at you who quickly struck a cheeky pose, earning the three of you cheers (but Remus was sure most of the applause was on your account).
Watch that scene!
Sirius pretended to play a riff on a guitar and Fabian did a scary looking spin from his place on the mantle whilst you opted to shimmy your shoulders in time with the music. 
Digging the dancing queen!
And to Remus’ absolutely horror, Fabian launched himself off of the mantle, seemingly making his mark by landing on the couch but apparently, he hadn’t taken into account the springs in the sofa which promptly launched him back off of the couch and had him landing on the wooden coffee table, causing it to splinter and break underneath him. 
Sirius looked like he was going to either fall off the mantle or piss his pants from laughing too hard, clutching your arm as you laughed along with him. 
Over Remus’ dead body would Sirius fall off a fireplace mantle and take you down with him.
He bodily moved through the crowd and stepped over Fabian without a second thought to stand below you (and Sirius, technically). Remus’ heart rate skyrocketed even more standing here below you, seeing as he was about 192cm (~6’3) and the mantle stood basically at his eyebrows.
He wanted to chide you, but your face cleared beautifully once you recognized who was standing below you.
“Remmy!” You cried as Sirius cheered “Moony!”
“I know I call you ‘dove’ baby girl, but that doesn’t mean you can fly!” He called up to you, any reprimand likely belittled by the beaming smile he was shooting at you. 
He held his hands up to you, and you quickly abandoned Sirius’ arms in exchange for his. With his hands under your armpits he gently lowered you back down to your proper height (which Remus much preferred). 
“Hi Rem!” You cheered at him. “I missed you.”
Your words were clear and loud if a little slurred. 
“I missed you!” Remus replied with a smile as Regulus quickly added “how many drinks have you had?” from his place behind him, apparently having made sure his ‘idiot brother didn’t break anything on his trip off the mantle’. Remus had sort of forgotten Sirius was there at all, to be honest. 
You seemed a little worried at Regulus’ question before he quickly added “I need to know how many I need to catch up to you, mon chéri.”
“Nice save.” Remus muttered to him.
“Uhm, maybe four?” You offered.
“Got it, think you can handle a refill?” He asked, placing a kiss to your temple. Remus wanted to eat the two of you up, you were just so cute.
“I’m on water for a bit!” You cheered back at him.
“So smart, dovey. Nice call.” Remus praised you. You beamed back at him in response. 
“S’not fair!” James shouting interrupted your chat.
“I’ll go get you a drink too, okay?” Regulus whispered into Remus’ ear before quickly taking off, clearly not interested in the whining of an inebriated James Potter.
“M’not ‘llowed to dance on th’mantle, m’not allowed to-to play with the play with the suit’s o’armours. Why’d I even come.” James cried miserably between hiccups.
“James, you cannot sword fight with the suits of armours, you will lose. When you lose a sword fight, you die.” Lily reprimanded, clearly at her wits end with her boyfriend.
“Awe, tough hand mate. Hey! Can I challenge you to a chugging contest?” Remus said, clapping James on the back.
James seemed to brighten up at that as Lily quickly scowled at him. Remus offered the redhead a wink as he plucked your cup of water out of your hands and handed it to James.
“’kay, but no cheating!” James called to Remus. Remus figured James was too drunk to realize one couldn’t really cheat at a chugging contest, but Remus didn’t plan on winning anyway.
Regulus had returned at the perfect time for Remus to take a drink and bring it to his lips. James, in his enthusiasm ended up wearing most of the water, but claimed he won after downing the rest of it.
“No way James, I want a rematch!” Remus called, grabbing the new cup of water Regulus had brought over for you - quickly promising to make it up to you - and handing it off to James.
The group ended up being able to keep James entertained by challenging him to ‘chugging contests’ whilst handing him cups of water until he had to pee. 
Remus got to watch you flit around the party, dancing to your hearts content (though, he did make sure to discourage you from anymore high surface areas. When he couldn’t, he made sure to spot you from below), and even convincing Regulus to ball dance with you, even though it was to the likes of Jackson 5. Though you quickly abandoned him for Sirius when Play That Funky Music came on.
Remus was sat in a large cushioned chair with Regulus in his lap as they watched you, clearly in your element. 
“Gods, she’s fun.” Remus whispered to his boyfriend. Regulus breathed out a chuckle and leaned further into Remus.
“She is. She can be trouble sometimes though. Probably good that Barty’s nowhere to be found.”
Regulus’ voice trailed off confusedly at the end.
“What is it?” Remus asked, but you came barrelling over to them, slightly sweaty and breathless from your dancing.
“Hi.” You breathed excitedly, falling to your knees in front of them.
“Hi dovey! Having fun?” Remus asked, bringing his hand not currently holding his drink and wrapped around Regulus’ waist to caress your face. His heart squeezed as your eyes closed and you leaned into the touch. “S’much fun.”
“Amour, where is Barty?” Regulus asked.
Your eyebrows furrowed momentarily before a cheeky smile crossed your face as you remembered.
“Oh, he’s...hanging around.” You offered vaguely. 
“Should I be worried?” Regulus asked cautiously, earning him a snort from Lily as she hauled a nearly sleeping James over to the couch beside them.
“The sod was swinging from the chandelier and got stuck. None of us bothered trying to get him down – he’s fast asleep.” She explained, gesturing to the ceiling with a nod of her head.
Sure enough, nearly right above them, Barty was passed out cold as if he were simply swinging in a hammock. 
“Hm...” Regulus deadpanned, narrowing his eyes at you. “Amour, did someone bet Barty that he couldn’t manage to get to the chandelier?” 
“No.” You answered quickly, defiantly. Regulus continued staring impassively at you until you sighed. “I bet him he couldn’t get down from the chandelier.” 
“And she was right.” Lily added, giving you a fist bump.
Regulus let out a long suffering sigh, causing Remus to chuckled and rub his side placatingly. 
“Fair enough, sweets.” He conceded.
“Easy for you to say.” Regulus muttered. “You aren’t responsible for getting him down.”
“Just leave him up there.” Sirius commented; he wasn’t quite as drunk as Remus expected him to be, but his movements were still sloppy as he moved to sit on the floor beside you. “That’s apparently what friends do.” He said pointedly, glaring at Remus and sticking his tongue out at him.
“I had more important priorities.” He said, winking down at you.
“Are-are you s,saying that Y/N’s more impo- important than your mate, Rmussss?” James said – barely – through hiccups.
“Certainly prettier priorities.” Regulus commented.
“Oi!” Sirius shouted far louder than necessary. “You take that back!” 
“I’ll do no such thing.” Regulus responded casually. 
Sirius went to stand from his place, no doubt to try to roughhouse his brother. 
“It’s okay Sirius. I think you’re very pretty. Next time, you can be the dancing queen.” You placated. Sirius turned to look at you like you hung the moon.
“Really?!” He cried. You nodded, causing the sod to launch himself, tackling you in a hug and causing the two of you to fall over.
“Oi! Don’t crush my darlin’ girl, Pads!” Remus called at the same time as Regulus spat “if she has so much as one fucking bruise Sirius, I swear to Salazar...”
“Do forgive him,” Lily commented, “he was just informed he could be the next dancing queen.”
“Why mess with perfection? I happen to think Y/N was a wonderful dancing queen!” Marlene called from somewhere behind Remus.
“I MISSED DANCING QUEEN!?” Barty screeched from his aerial prison above them.
Regulus let out another long-suffering sigh as he stood, lifted you up out of Sirius’ grasp and placed you in his vacated spot on Remus’ lap. “I’ll go get my broom to get him down...”
“How’d you manage to win that bet, dove?” Remus whispered as Regulus disappeared through the door, pressing his nose to the pulse point of your neck.
“Sticking charm.”
Remus chuckled and felt the breaths leaving his nose bounce off your skin and back into his face. 
“My cheeky little minx.”
931 notes · View notes
fluorynn · 5 months
Text
🔷 — 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐫 | 𝐧. 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 ( one-shot )
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Aged up!tattooed!Neteyam ✗ fem!human!reader
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 / 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 : AGED UP!NETEYAM — don’t like it? Please don’t read! implied!smut, spanking, teasing, heavy touching, tattooed!Neteyam being obsessed with reader’s tits, implied sex on the beach—Neteyam just loving on reader’s body, no mention of exomask, guys shsjdkdkdk—
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.5k+
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : @bambithewriter @rivatar @jioohyo @property-of-neteyam @pandoraslxna @xstarsdiary @xylianasblog
author’s note : neteyam with tattoos. The vision, THE VISION GUYS. Lemme know what you think😭😭
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“You see now, narlor ( beautiful ), these right here—” The pair of tattooed hands which belonged to Neteyam had skidded from your bare waist to the scarcely clothed plumpness of your breasts, the perkiness of your nipples. Hands which held a great convenience in engulfing entirely, slender digits practically entwining around the expanse of your back from how much smaller you were than him, his palms delicately kneading the soft flesh. “These lovely girls brighten my day. If I am upset, they commit to making me content. If I am stressed, they relieve me. They relieve me far better than anything else on Pandora.”
While your current sitting position upon his tsurak made it much easier for you to meet him at an eye-level as he was within the water, the pressure of his touch accompanied by the hefty weight of his elongated frame leaning forward pushed you further against the squirming tsurak.
“Teyam, baby,” The pair of dainty hands which belonged to you splayed over his ink etched shoulders to keep him from leaning forward. Hands which held purposeless strength when it came to be compared to Neteyam — or any other Na’vi for that matter. A giggle bubbled from your throat from the way that your ridiculously tall lover’s accent emphasized his words spoken in English while his affections dawdled every inch of you. “You play too much, you know that? I mean, you can’t be serious.”
“Uh, yes I certainly am fucking serious.” The edges of his mouth twisted downwards, a form of a crease upon his striped forehead. “I adore every part of you, tìyawn. From those pretty eyes and pretty smile, that soft belly and thighs that are so plushy and drive me insane,” The extent of his tail wreathed around your thigh, its length nearly taking up the entire limb. “And do you want to know something else, hmm? Just by receiving a look from you after a long day of training, swimming and patrolling makes me so content…but when I get the opportunity to do more than just look at you, and I get to touch you,'' His head canted back, the subtle clink of his plaits accompanying the groan that breathed into the star-filled sky, and the desperate sound was nearly enough to make a whimper drawl out of you. “Great Mother, words can’t describe that amazing opportunity.”
Your bottom lip curled between your teeth, gnawing the supple flesh at the flawless sight you had of the pillar of his throat; the vivid twinkles of Neteyam’s freckles clashing beautifully with the velvet blues of his skin beneath the night’s glow. The honed structure of his jawline contrasted beneath the beads of necklaces and tattooed art you had taken a passionate liking to.
His kuru was still entangled in the bond with his tsurak, mind giving a command to gently swim you to the coastline of Awa’atlu. While Neteyam followed along, that does not mean he paused the leisurely journey his touch made around your body; brushing from the outer curves of your breasts, finger pads grazing below your ribcage to encircle around your waist before a brim of some sort of curiosity crossed his features. His hands then deftly slid beneath you, and forgotten was the tsurak the moment the shore came to view.
“And this? This perfect ass of yours is so damn good for me, my love.”
The sharpness of his large palm colliding with the meat of your ass reverberated through Pandora’s atmosphere followed by your yelp of a stunned ‘hey!’. Stunned from both the vulgarity of his tongue and the outburst of his actions.
“Forgive me, narlor.” He chuckled endearingly, not resisting the urge to smack your ass once, then twice, applying almost all of his strength to the pressure which sent a wave of scorching heat across your neutral toned skin. You reached for him, planting your hands over his damp chest, the density of your lashes fluttering down as gleaming incisors scraped over the flushed apple of your cheek, softly biting down in a teasing manner until wisps of giggles flew from you.
“Yeah, that is the best of the best right there, is it not?” He mused, ear flitting near your jaw emphasizing his content. One arm now fully enclosed around your midsection, your forearms resting upon his shoulders while he made his way out the water which was halfway up his torso. He didn’t need to see to know which way he was going though. While he was entranced in the pretty depths of your eyes and let his forehead hover over yours, he was certain where he went.
“Well then, I believe I’m glad I could be of use to the mighty warrior.” you replied, the breathless and amusement of your voice bestowing how much you reveled in his act as one of your hands delicately soothed over your sore cheek. The other admiringly traced over the tattoos encircling his bicep, twisting and turning up across his defined collarbone and skimming up his neck, cheek, and temple, telling a story no other human would understand but you. Fingertips fiddled over the adorable flickers of his high perched wars, and soon threaded into the cascade of his dark braids.
He perhaps was not the only one completely enamored with every detail of his lover. But could you really be blamed? Every part of Neteyam was beyond captivating.
“Irayo ( thank you ).” Sharp incisors collided with the brilliance of his smile, squeezing his hold around you. In one smooth motion within the water, thanks to his inhuman strength, he hoisted you a bit higher so your legs now wrapped beneath his arms, chest now flushed against the length of his broad one, feeling the muscle’s tight coils, the immense heat he radiated despite being in the cool water.
You chewed your lip at how his large hand pushed into the small arch of your back, the subtle swirls of his tail due to excitement because of such proximity stirring you within.
Neteyam acknowledged how much you enjoyed being manhandled by him and him only — whether it be gently or unruly — and he never wasted any chance given to take action on it and witness the vulnerability you gained when he did, making the most of it in his time spent with you.
Long fingers glide up your throat, long enough to engulf the entire base, the index one curling around your jaw. His thumb gently pushed your chin up and slanting your head slightly up until you were met with the warrior’s resplendent irises.
“Yet do you know what, who else is the cause of my content?” He inquired, raking his (appealing) tongue over his lower lip.
The simple act had your thighs clench hard around him, a throbbing pulse flaring to existence between.
“N-no..” Lies. It was more than obvious by the feign of innocence glazing those pretty doe-like eyes.
His own eyes, gleaming and fierce, called out to you. Silent to others, yet soaring for your soul. His senses more than feel the spasms of heat from your every fiber, every curve. He released his hold on your face, both hands now enveloping your ass.
“You are certain of this, yawntutsyìp?”
“U-uh huh, yeah…” anticipation swelled in your chest as you shakily exhaled, mentally cursing for not having anything to physically support yourself other than Neteyam’s grand body. By now, his feet were already amongst the sand and you’re still being held up by him.
Without taking his sharp gaze off you, he slowly, so very slowly started to descend down to his knees in the middle of the beach. Though with his descent brought the ascent of your body, the intoxicating scent of your essence being inhaled by his flaring nose while your legs dangling over his shoulders. You could have been afraid, yet the trust felt for him and arousal growing outweighed that fear, and instead you let him do whatever it was he pleased.
He knew this from the mischief that struck his features as your back subtly met the damp sand, as you shuffled until you were propped on your elbows to look down at him and his large body slithered down, gazing up at you with love and lust.
He traced the abstaining desire on your face, thrill surging through the warrior. His face nestled against your tummy while nimble digits undid the twines of your own tewng, his nose and puckered lips feathering over the bare skin of your thighs while his hands slid lower and lower…
Eyes fell to the between your slightly parted legs, taking in the glistening appeal, and a soft smirk twisted his lips up. “May I show you just how much she makes me content?”
“I-if that’s what you wanna do…” Even you could not fall for your poor attempt at the facade of nonchalance.
His smirk spiraled, two fingers brushing down said curve between your thigh and hip bone before dipping down to your pussy the very exact time a wave came crashing along the shoreline, and if it weren’t for the shielding of his body you may have been caught in it. But somehow, the harsh sensations given from the ocean deliciously twisted something in your stomach when it came upon Neteyam’s silhouette, in a trance at the predator-like swivels of his tail.
He grinned widely against you, “Narlor, what I am about to do to you and my girl is going to make us very, very content…”
719 notes · View notes
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The way im still thinking about plug!fontaine 😵‍💫😵‍💫. Now i cant help but think about Hobie and the reader getting high together for the first time (it would be her first mostly). The way u described that shotgun part in that fic was so good. And it’d hit even more different if Hobie is usually the one getting you all flustered and now you’re high off ur ass and sum purring so now u just start teasing him and saying things he likes AHH I LOVE HOBIE 🤭🤭🤭
Me toooooooo ( ^-^)ノ∠※。.:*:・'°☆ I hope I didn't stray tooooo far from the request lol
high! hobie brown x high! reader | ( obvi nsfw 18+)
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▪︎• you couldn't really give an explanation for why you haven't smoked weed, eaten an edible, done mushrooms or at least gotten high off your shit at least once. you weren't against them, in fact, you knew a lot about them and their medical purposes and benefits. but you still haven't try em.
▪︎• which is surprising cause most of the people you hang around consumed weed. some on a regular basis. and that includes your boyfriend. hell, you met hobie while he was smoking a joint on the balcony of some random house party.
▪︎• you remembered how when he asked if you wanted a hit, you broke into a stutter trying to explain why you declined. he just gave an understanding nod, then pulled his spliff back to rest in between his lips.
▪︎• you felt sorta insecure about it. even though it wasn't that big of a deal to anyone around you. it was to you. you felt like you were missing out on something. this feeling hit you most whenever you watched hobie smoke.
▪︎• you sat on the opposite end of the couch watching as hobie made a joint. his nimble fingers wrapped the paper so easily. like it was second nature. with a quick lick to seal, he had the blunt ready. it rested perfectly between his pretty lips as he searched his vest for a lighter. you wanted it.
"can I get a hit hobie?" he paused his search to turn his attention to you. he looked at you for a bit before he gave you a slight smirk.
▪︎• once he found where that lighter was, he motioned for you to sit closer. you did. you watched intensely as the orange glow of the fire made this all too real. you actually gonna taste your first blunt. and with your boyfriend no less.
▪︎• you felt the familiar feeling of his warm, coarse hands cupping your chin. and the other around your waist, tugging you closer to him. hobie pulled till you were seated on his lap.
▪︎• you were practically pressed to him. you felt the warmth of the blunt, sat between his lips, on the side of your face. you could tell how the blunt would taste from the second hand smoke alone.
"nothin' to be scared of doll. this shi' gonna make you feel real good, trust." he returned your quick nod, then you watched as he inhaled and pulled the blunt from his lips.
▪︎• hobie blew a cloud of smoke in your face, you quickly gathered your senses and inhaled what he gave you. you felt your breath stifle, then the coughs came. you wanted to move back, but his hold on you chin kept you in place.
▪︎• he wanted you to hold still. no running. just taking what he gives no complaints. he knows it's overwhelming, but let him do this. in no time he's gonna have you taking shotguns while he's giving you backshots.
▪︎• he did this multiple times, each time giving you a kiss each time you did better. once he was satisfied, he moved the spliff to your lips. you eagerly took a sharp inhale of smoke. you burst into a fit of coughs. it was embarrassing. you were doing so good. probably you inhaled too hard.
hobie was patting and soothing your back. once the coughs died down, he coached your breaths till they were steady again. "got a little excited huh luv?"
▪︎• he made you get a second inhale this time, he pulled it back once you had enough. you took a couple more with barely a reaction, except for the little stings in your eyes.
▪︎• he was right you do feel so much more relaxed. you rested your head in the crook of his shoulder, tracing little shapes in his jaw. he hummed whenever you would suck a little too hard at his neck, or moved your hips about too much on his lap. even a couple whispered ' you're pretty baby' and 'my gorgeous 'obie'. you giggled at how bashful he looked. he never got shy.
▪︎• you don't know where your sudden urge for sex, or confidence came from. but you loved it. and so did hobie, especially since he was pushing your hips to rutt against his bulge even more.
" 's the weed makin' you act up huh darlin'. I kno'. it's 'ight, I feel it too. mhmm fuck- should do this more often huh? yea?"
▪︎• despite you teasing earlier, you could barely answer him verbally. you were too preoccupied trying to soothe your ache. you knew he could feel your cunt even through the layers of fabric. and you surely felt him too. if it wasn't for the clothes his tip would be pressed into you by now.
▪︎• soon you two became too impatient for the frivolous grinding. and that's how you found yourself with your back against his chest, legs splayed, your panties pulled to the side and hobie's cock slapping against your slit.
▪︎• you two were absolutely spent, just from the sensations alone. 'why wasn't he in you yet fuck. this shit hurts, it's just working you more.' sure the slapping was hot, but it wasn't gonna cut it.
"b-baby?"
"yea darlin'? what's wrong? too much?" you gave a let out a frustrated whine, he soon realized what his baby wanted. and he was more than happy to oblige.
▪︎• you watched as he dangled the blunt in front of you. once you took it between you lips. he gave you once last kiss on the cheek, and told you that he'll stop when the blunt goes out.
▪︎• you felt your entire body seize up as his full was slammed into you. you've taken him unprepped before, but not from his angle. the stretch was different it was like his length was pushing down in you. it felt so good.
▪︎• he kept his promise and didn't stop till the blunt finished. no matter how the ash was knocked onto your tits, he pulled out your bra just so he could grope them. no matter how you whined at how sore you were, or that his couch was messy from how much slick he forced out of you. no matter how much you babbled to him in words not even you could understand. he'd just nod along like he understood you.
▪︎• once the blunt flickered once last time, you let out a groan once you felt his length ease out. sure you were just crying that you couldn't take anymore but you also couldn't help but squeeze one last time.
▪︎• you knew you were both still high as a kite. you lazily lounged on his couch, till the high sensation ceased. once it did you made him swear to smoke with you again tomorrow, you're lucky that's the day his plug was gonna hit him up.
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neoplatinum · 6 months
Text
opposing worlds | kim chaewon
summary: rooming with kim chaewon was a terribly bad (good) decision.
pairing: roommate!chaewon x roommate!reader
themes: enemies (?) to lovers, college au, fluff, very minor angst, chaewon is a micromanager!, implied sexual content, yunjin!
wc: 3.0k
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even though its below freezing outside, with a red nose along with frozen ears, you refuse to enter your apartment. fearing the demon that you live with, her legal name being kim chaewon.
a major pain in your ass is how you would describe living with her. you would rather step on legos than to live with her, but with limited on-campus housing you have to deal the cards that you've been dealt.
so you pace outside, on the welcome mat, biting your nails. just getting the courage to walk back into your apartment. one that turns into a war zone whenever chaewon's being a stickler for rules and regulations (ones that she's made for the apartment). you finally stop pacing when you feel the confidence back in your body.
"i'm not letting her dictate what i can and cant do." you say to yourself quietly, this was ridiculous. not being able to enter a space that you pay for just because chaewon was a micromanager pissed you off more than you would like to admit.
as soon as you enter the apartment, you're immediately hit with the silence of the apartment. it's odd, and you can feel a pair of eyes staring at your back. you pay it no mind as you slip off your shoes. you turn to the sight of chaewon with her arms crossed, standing in that familiar stance of authority. letting out a heavy breath, you know, watch her folded arms, tense jaw, and the most telling sign: her foot tapping rhythmically. so you walk towards her, like a child ready for scolding.
"what's it going to be tonight, chaewon? cleanliness, manners, etiquette, or are you going to comment about my clothes?" you explain, frustrated. It seems you can never get things right around miss perfect.
"cleanliness!" she exclaims, pointing at the many dishes piling up in the sink. you grimace at the sight, just remembering it was your turn to do the dishes. "look at our chore list! it's your week!" she continues point at the very detailed chore poster, your name in big bold red letters.
you groan and grab some gloves, preparing for the long lecture about cleanliness and maintaining a proper space. while you are busy washing all the bowls in the sink and placing them on a drying rack, chaewon begins listing off reasons to always maintain a clean apartment—a lecture you have heard far too often.
"enough, chaewon! i am not five, and i don't need to be lectured on why I need to wash the dishes for the 50th time!" you shout at her, cutting her off from her outburst. she stops, and you can see her lips waver, and her hands are balled into fists.
"then stop acting like a five-year-old!" she shouts back at you, stomping to her room and slamming the door. you wince at the sound, feeling a little guilty for yelling at her, she just really set you off tonight.
so you stand in the kitchen all alone with the sound of running water comforting you. feeling the weight of your words, you feel bad that she has to reprimand you for things you should figure out on your own. with a final dish on the rack, you sulk back into your room, thinking of ways to apologize to your roommate.
--
"chaewon?" you wake up early, feeling guilty that you yelled at her. even though you were tired of the lectures, you knew it was wrong to yell at the girl. you tried making a breakfast that she would like. so with a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of her favorite green tea, you carry the tray towards her room and knock on her door.
"what." her voice is flat and monotone. you shrink into yourself before speaking again.
"i made you breakfast...listen i'm sorry about yelling at you. i shouldn't have and i let my emotions get the best of me. could you open the door?" you explain, feeling awful just remembering her face when you yelled at her.
the door opens slowly and behind the door is an upset chaewon with puffy eyes and a bunch of tissues in hand. you slowly walk in and place the tray on her desk. she's busy with her schoolwork it seems, but it also looks like she's been busy crying with the pile of tissues in her waste basket.
it's weird being in her room ever since you found out how high-strung she was. so you have always steered clear of her room, this is the first time you've been inside. noticing how decorated the room is, it's cute, oddly. it's what you expect of chaewon's room, clean and proper. with a splash of green everywhere, that must be her favorite color.
she stares at the bowl of oatmeal you made her, eyeing it wearily. you groan at her.
"i didn't poison it, if that's what you're thinking." you comment quietly. she nods and sits down in her chair to eat it. you wait patiently, not really sure what to do. maybe waiting for feedback at this point. she just nods and you finally feel your shoulders release tension.
"phew." you say out loud.
"thank you for breakfast, i'll stop lecturing you so much." she says quietly. you nod, a little shocked at how dismissive she is. walking out of her room, you still feel a bit awful, maybe you should invite her out somewhere.
before you can begin to ask her, chaewon is already closing her door behind her. you're just grateful she accepted the peace offering.
--
she doesn't comment on your poor behavior in the next couple of weeks, you just feel inclined to do the chores that have been laid out. you don't hear from her for a while, feeling her absence in the apartment.
some days, when you're past boredom, eyes glued to the ceiling, and daydreaming of becoming rich. you think about chaewon and why she's so persistent about cleanliness. you always thought it was a bit extreme, but you never came back to a messy apartment. so you could appreciate that, you just hope she goes back to her own noisy self.
it's become strangely quiet in the apartment without chaewon's constant annoyance towards you. whenever you step outside in the living room in hopes of seeing chaewon, she's never there. your mood is considerably worse without a person to argue with.
you purposely leave out clothes on the floor for her to scold you, but she never comments on it. just stares at it and walks into her room. so with a dejected face, you pick up your own clothes. you hate to admit that you missing your nagging roommate.
--
"is that chaewon?" your friend shouts into your ear. saturday night out, and instead of staying inside with the awkward tension with chaewon, you're out here to party your anxiety away.
the thing that irks you tonight is that this house party is definitely a fire hazard—way exceeding the maximum number of occupants. you remember chaewon telling you to never stay in a place that breaks the maximum occupants.
you turn your head up at the question, looking around and you finally spot your roommate across the room. all you can conclude is chaewon is stupid drunk—dancing like her life depended on it. people all around her are egging her on, and chaewon breaks out the robot, making you laugh.
then some guy starts getting near her to dance with her, you frown at the sight. setting down your cup as you make your way to the other side of the room.
"woah buddy, back up." you put a hand between the dude and chaewon, he flips you off before walking away. you are about to chase after him to give him a piece of your mind, but then you remember chaewon in front of you. blearly eyes chaewon, with her stumbling and drunk laughter filling your senses. she refocuses her eyes, and they land on you, eyeing your outfit.
"what are you doing here?" she asks in a slurred tone, her finger wagging in your face.
"i could ask you the same thing." you raise your eyebrows, confused by the sight of miss perfect student chaewon partying on a sunday night. she scoffs at you.
"don't tell me what to do." she crosses her arms as best as she can, definitely feeling the drunkness.
"don't tell me what to do." you mock her tone, laughing at her when she gets mad at you. she starts to walk away, but you grab her arm. "hey, let's go home. it's late."
"no! let me go." she stomps her foot like a child.
"alright, let's do this the hard way." you say and and hoist her up, carrying her out the stuffed house.
"let me down! i'm not done partying." she shouts. you pay her no mind as she tries pushing you away. you laugh because she really isn't trying that hard.
so you take her back home, walking down frat row until you reach your apartments. by then she's fallen asleep, arms wrapped around your neck and snoring lightly. it's cute seeing chaewon so relaxed, you're glad you found her, it's been weird being at home without her. you hope whatever is happening between you two just returns back to normal.
you fumble around with the key to your apartment, and with a final push you walk into her room. unwrapping her arms from your neck, as you set her down in her bed. you admire the way chaewon looks in makeup, gorgeous and very serene.
but you also know that chaewon hates going to sleep with her makeup on, so you rummage through her makeup drawer, finding makeup wipes for her. you take the time to gently wipe all the makeup off, finding it peaceful and fulfilling to do so.
she fusses a bit when you wipe too hard. you pull back and let her calm down, before wiping the rest of it off. throwing the used wipes in her waste basket. when you turn around, you see her knocked out cold, laying like a starfish on her green comforter.
you smile at the sight and then roll her under her comforter, tucking her in. with light footsteps, you close her door, and return back to your own room. the smile never leaves your face.
--
it's been about a week since the party, chaewon was embarrassed that you had brought her home. so she bought you coffee and a muffin nearly every morning.
she lets you explain that night from your point of view, her face goes red at the embarrassing parts. you purposely leave out the part where that guy was trying to dance with her. for some reason, you feel upset when you talk about it, maybe he just looked too creepy.
she dissapears into her room soon after, something along the lines of, "i need to process all this."
later that night, you're writing on your laptop when you hear chaewon's door open. the sight of her in a nice form fitting dress and her hair done up, your jaw drops and you jump to your feet.
"where are you going?" you ask. she's checking her purse for something. she looks up at you confused.
"a party?" she states like it's so obvious. your body is jittery at the idea. you think quickly, she's not going out by herself. what if she gets kidnapped?
"wait, let me go with you." you say as you rush into your room to get ready, no way you're letting her go to that party alone. you need to fend off the creepy men for her.
"why are you going?" she asks from outside the doorway. a little confused at the sight of you throwing clothes everywhere. she even steps inside to pick up the clothes now littered all over the floor.
"just cause." you say and grab your outfit. rushing into your bathroom to change. within a few minutes you walk out ready to accompany chaewon.
she's on her phone waiting for you, and you examine her outfit. you rummage through the closet, looking for a nice warm jacket. slipping it over her shoulders as you both set out for the night. you miss how chaewon's cheeks warm at the gesture.
--
it has started becoming a regular habit: if you can't attend the party with chaewon, no matter how late or wasted she is, you always pick her up from the party. if she was too tired or drunk, you would help tuck her into bed.
oftentimes, you even had to help her puke her guts out from drinking too much. but that was never a pretty sight, so you try and get her to puke her guts out before she enters the apartment.
one night, she ends up just crawling into your bed. when you fall asleep, you feel her body warmth against your body. she makes herself comfortable under the blanket. wrapping her arms around your torso as she lays against your pillow.
you move yourself further off the edge of the bed as she scoots closer. she mumbles something about how warm her bed is, and honestly, even with her taking up your personal space, you don't mind.
it has somehow blended into a habit to sleep together every night when she came in the next night, and without a word, slipped under the comforter again. you let her, too scared of saying anything in case it scared her away. it's become a nightly thing to just sleep in the same bed together...even when she's not drunk.
--
"you two do what?" yunjin is staring at you with her food half chewed.
"dont talk with food in your mouth, you're going to catch flies." you comment.
"oh great, now you sound like chaewon too." yunjin bites her food. you decided to contact yunjin in hopes of figuring out what to do with this new "development" with chaewon. the habit of her sleeping in your bed with you. sometimes you wake up and catch chaewon staring at you.
"so you two sleep together in the same bed, brush your teeth together, go about your morning and nightly routine together, and even cuddle...platonically." yunjin questions you, but the sarcasm is dripping as she says it.
"yes." you answer.
yunjin takes a deep breath before starting up again, she didn't think you were so dense. "dude, chaewon is into you."
"no she's not, just two months ago we were at each other throats. don't you remember?" you ask.
"of course i remember, oh my GOD, is this my real life enemies to lovers slow burn 10k words fic in real life?" yunjin says to herself towards the end.
"you seriously have got to get off the internet." you cross your arms staring at the girl. "you aren't helping, by the way."
"help with what?" she asks, a little confused.
"what do i do?" you ask her. ever since the new habit of chaewon and yours, you've been going through your days all confused, always thinking about chaewon.
"you either grow a pair and confess you want to be more than 'sleep buddies' or you wuss out and just let her continue doing this." she says plainly.
you disregard her comment, "forget what i said." you say. yunjin just shrugs and continues eating her meal, letting you sit with your own thoughts.
--
so you do wuss out like an absolute coward. just letting the unspoken words take over you and chaewon's sleeping arrangements. you let her continue to invade your space, moving her stuff into your room. her decorations, her clothes in your drawers, and just recently she moved her desk into your room, placing it just next to your desk.
you were shocked at the arrangement but couldn't find the confidence to comment on it. it's weird; now you two practically exist in each other's space all the time; just two months ago, you were cursing the world for giving you chaewon as a roommate. now you can't imagine going to sleep without seeing her and her hair roller every night.
sleeping together turns into unspoken dates: going to the movies together, going bowling, getting groceries together, and even going to high-end restaurants together.
it's like you're dating unofficially. those were the exact words your friend told you when he came over to visit. when you let him into your room to show off your movie posters, he immediately thought you had a girlfriend, you had to explain to him how it was just chaewon.
he looked at you like you grew a third eye, confused at how chaewon went from most annoying person in the world, to someone who sleeps in your bed every night. you try not to let those words mean so much, but secretly you're hoping you can officially date her.
--
one night, you go out clubbing with chaewon; she looks gorgeous in her tight dress and her hair laid out, showing off her dancing to you. you recently found out thar chaewon was part of the dance team, often visiting her showcases. now you enjoy just watching her let loose, like a free soul, not bounded by her own rules. its beautiful to see.
by the third song of you two circling each other on the dance floor, you kiss her. pulling her into your embrace, hands reaching her back and pushing her closer to you. she welcomes the kiss and lets you pull her closer. hands running up your hair, tugging lightly.
you make out with her against the club wall, and drag each other home with urgency. laughing loudly in the streets like teenagers in love.
"be mine." she breathes into your ears that night.
"only if you're mine too." you kiss her shoulder, and she nods.
--
yunjin visits you two the next day, screaming at the sight of you two in your bed and covering her eyes immediately. you wake up horrified with chaewon clinging onto you as yunjin screams for the whole apartment complex to hear. she slams the door closed and runs out of the apartment. you and chaewon both look at each other before laughing loudly.
even though yunjin avoids both you and chaewon for the next two weeks, you don't feel an ounce of regret. you can honestly say that rooming with chaewon was the best decision of your life.
--
a/n: i feel like chaewon fits enemies to lovers really well but maybe that's just me. didn't really proofread this one but anyways. posting this piece first because it was decided by the people! i hope it was worth the wait! stay safe and stay healthy everyone!
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seventies-arcana · 1 year
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PAC: you're someone's muse; this is how they'd describe you
good evening lovies, i hope tonights super moon is treating you well. in this pac reading, you will find out how someone would describe you if you were their muse. this reading is purely for entertainment and enjoyment purposes.
ask upon your guides/higher self to help guide you to whichever pile/photo you should pick, then read the corresponding message. images are not mine
pick a picture to begin✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
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pile one (the field): pleasing + give way
you are such a pleasing and enjoyable person to spend time with. the things you are able to do, no matter how minuscule you might find them to be, are awe-striking. there's a passion behind your eyes that adds to the radiance that surrounds you. with this, you are very attentive. you remember things people say which makes others feel seen in a way they've never felt before. you're down for whatever in the best way possible and it makes you someone that could only ever be described as fun to be around. you're adventurous at heart and consider home to be wherever your loved ones are. this makes people feel safe around you. the smell of late summer, campfires and sunflowers is something to be associated with you. you're a breath of fresh air.
pile two (the clementine): care + apple of the eye
oh, you are just so sweet. so kindhearted. you care for people so deeply and love so wholeheartedly. you make people see their insecurities as something to find beautiful. your hugs make people feel protected, it is easy to fall asleep when wrapped up in your arms. your eyes are mesmerizing, so easy to get lost in. one moment, they are doe-like, the next, the exact opposite. it's the way you flirt with your eyes that makes others feel so weak in the knees. but this doesn't make you cheeky. in fact, you are loyal and committed to the one you love. because when you love, you love intensely. you are a romantic at heart. your energy is reminiscent of candle lit homemade dinners that begin a night of endless cuddles. of fresh florals and luscious baths. you are a place of comfort.
pile three (the cat): challenge + puppy energy
you will never lower your standards or settle for someone who isn't what you want, and that is just so attractive. you know what type of relationships you want and that adds to your appeal. not just anyone can be the reciprocator of your divine affection. you speak to people once and they cant help but want to learn more about you. you're siren-like without even intending to be. once you truly let someone into your heart, you become such a lovable softie. you are so sweet and wholesome when you love, no one would ever guess it. your reminiscent of fresh linen blankets in perfectly cool rooms. your touch is soft and soothing. when you smile, genuinely smile, it brightens the mood of anyone around to see it. to be able to receive the love you give is one in a million. you are unlike anyone else.
pile four (the beach): no judgements + new perspectives
you are the model example of how everyone should be. you are accepting of people, no matter their status, and care deeply for those who may have been overlooked by others. you treat people however they treat you. you know your worth and will never let someone tarnish it. you are unapologetically yourself and that is something so rare to find, it makes others captivated by you. nonetheless, you are mysterious. you savor some aspects of yourself and only show them to the people you love. these aspects of you are the most rewarding thing to experience. every now and then, you can be mischievous. but it is all in good fun. you are filled with surprises and each one of them adds to your allure. you remind others of violets and nights spent walking along the coastline. you are utterly captivating.
please like, follow, and reblog! i appreciate it a lot :)
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savingcrxws · 1 year
Text
EYES ON FIRE | just pretend
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[ next chap ]
synopsis. you and carmen start off on the wrong foot and richie stirs the pot.
word count. 3.5k
warnings. language, hardly proofread but i tried
authors note. lets goooo, this is based off of this headcanon that i would recommend reading before this chapter(kinda treat it as a prologue)--lets get to part one!
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"Richie, you dick."
If you had a dime for everytime Richard Jerimovich managed to inconvenience you, you could probably buy the Bean three times over.
But this, this really takes the cake. 
“Well if it isn’t our little college graduate here in good ol’ Orleans Street,” Richie cheers, throwing his hands in the air in fake surprise as a smirk rises slowly onto his face. You feel like if you were to glare at the man any harder, you might actually make his head explode.
“What brings you here, sweetheart?”
You take a minute to try to collect yourself before you absolutely blow up in Richie’s face. Carmen stands directly across from you, just behind the bar, dressed in a dirtied white tee stained in a sauce of some kind. He’s very obviously avoiding eye contact with you, leaning over the bar and seemingly very interested in the walls around you. 
“If I recall correctly, you asked me to come here, Richie,” you grit out, gripping the tote bag that hangs over your shoulder tighter. You press your lips together before a choice few words slide from between your teeth.
You see Carmen tense up at what you said, shoulders hunching up before dropping almost as quickly. The dirty blonde brings a hand up to his forehead in what you can only assume to be pure disbelief. 
You continue. “You called me literally like, two hours ago.”
“Really, me? You sure it wasn’t another Richie? Maybe a Rick?”
“Richie, please don’t piss me off right now. I swear to God–”
A loud slam interrupts the developing argument and nealyr sends you flying out of your skin.
Your eyes dart over to Carmen, whose hands are splayed flat across the span of the bar. His head is tilted down, curls falling to cover almost all of what you could see of his face. He takes a breath before turning his head to look at the older man behind him. 
His face is a bright red, angry flush sinking down past the collar of his shirt.
“Richie, you motherfucker,” he grits out, dragging a hand down his mouth before slamming his fist on the bar counter, rattling the plates and miscellaneous cups that littered across it. Richie tenses up behind him, catching on to the anger almost radiating off of him.
"Why the fuck would you invite her here?" Carmen yells, speaking of you like you weren't only a couple feet away from him. You frown, insulted at his disregard of you.
"Oh believe me, I hardly am jumping to be here myself, Berzatto." You spit.
Richie raises his hands in defense, taking a step back as Carmen bucks up towards him. “Hey, man, don’t shoot the messenger.” He casts a stray hand in your direction and Carmen’s eyes instinctively follow, making eye contact for the first time since you entered the restaurant.
The heat of his stare was strong, something that you could best describe as a blend of anxiety and anger. You notice that his eyes trail up and down your form, not in a "checking you out way" and more of a "I cant believe you're here right now" way.
“Bug usually never responds to my messages! Honestly, how was I supposed to know she would now,” Richie continues, still trying to maintain distance away from Carmen.
Carmen seems overwhelmed, split between jumping at Richie for his fake naivete or running a million miles away from you. He curls his hands into fist, and for a second, you think he's going to throw a punch. Quickly though, Carmen steps away from Richie and casts one more look towards you.
You wait for him to say something to your face, but he doesn't.
“I’m leaving,” Carmen mumbles under his breath, taking in another deep breath before abruptly turning and throwing open the kitchen door. The swinging door flies out and hits the wall, a sudden crack that you are sure would leave a dent later.  Almost immediately, you hear the sound of distant bustling and pans clattering around. 
A voice yells out in confusion. “What the hell, Jeff?”
You bring a hand to your forehead, feeling a headache incoming. It couldn’t have been more than three minutes and simply being around Carmen had given you more stress than you’ve had in the past week. Casting a glance up at Richie, you give him a final glare. The man simply shrugs his shoulders and gives a charismatic grin. “Well, that was pleasant wasn’t it, bug?” 
“Ayo, Richie, what the fuck is up with Jeff,” a voice questions as they walk in from the path of destruction that Carmen left in his behind. The owner of that voice is none other than Tina, and for some reason, seeing her alleviates at least some of the headache you feel pulsating across your skull. Tina casts a confused glance at Richie, who simply points over in your direction. Tina’s eyes follow and when she makes eye contact with you a familiar smile drapes across her lips. 
"Oh, well now I understand why Jeff's so pissed off."
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"Yeah, and then the asshole has the nerve to act all coy, like he didn't blow my phone up with messages begging me to go down to the restaurant," you complained, throwing your head back to take another gulp of the wine in your cup.
In front of you, Sugar swirled her own glass of sparkling grape juice, shaking her head in disbelief at the absurdity of it all.
Shortly after Tina had walked out, you had left the restaurant (not before flipping Richie the bird) and immediately went to text Sugar for a rant session. Being the absolute angel that she is, she agreed almost immediately, stating that she had some qualms she wanted to rave about as well. Two glasses of Merlot for you and some non-alcoholic beverages for Natalie later, you two were sitting on the two ends of Sugar's couch, the TV playing a rerun of Selling New York as background sound for your current conversation.
"Yeah, Richie is a jerk." You nod in appreciation for her understadning your annoyance.
"And don't even get me started on you-know-who's reaction? He barely even acknowledged my existence!" You throw your free hand in the air. "Speaking about me like I wasn't right there?"
You release an exasperated sigh. "The ego on that guy."
Natalie hums, taking a languid sip of her drink. "Well, that sounds like Carmy alright. A tiny little ball of asshole-ery at any given point of time." The blonde reaches a hand over and places it on your knee. "Sorry my brother is such a dick."
You give a small smile at Sugar, resting your own hand on top of hers. "No need, it's clear you took all the 'sane person' genes in the Berzatto bloodline." Your joke pulls a giggle out of Sugar, the slight truth of her statement not missing between the two of you.
"But enough about me," you place your glass down on her coffee table before continuing. "What's going on in your life Nat?"
You listen as she rants about the stress of preparing for a bringing baby into the home. She talks about how those Al-Anon meetings she regularly attends are going, and how her one coworker Bryson seems to have a vendetta against her.
After a moment, Natalie coughs slightly, eyes darting across the living room in thought before returning back to you. "And well, I hate to keep talking about Carmy but..."
The smile drops quickly off of your face as Sugar trails the last word. "But what, Suge?"
"Buttt, Carmen's trying to rebuild The Beef," Sugar peers down into the contents of her glass as she speaks, "he's rebranding it as The Bear, and I've been trying to help him and the crew get everything sorted before they start tearing the building down."
You press your lips together tight at the mention of the familiar name.
"Personally, Carm, I don't see much wrong with the restaurant now?"
"The place is held together by a roll of duct tape and a dream, bug, I don't think you have to look very hard to see some issues."
You glance up at him from your position on his chest, looking as he gazed up at the ceiling of your bedroom. While his gaze was physically directed at the old glow in the dark stars scattered across the ceiling, you could tell his head was in a total different world.
"So you want to start a new restaurant?" You question, watching as Carmen shakes his head as soon as the words leave your lips.
"Nah, I just want to make it better, ya know? For Mikey, and Sugar, and Ma."
Sugar, noticing you are distracted, stops her sentence and gives a little frown, watching as your gaze drifts off somewhere distant.
Despite the years that have past, she knows that you still have feelings towards her brother. She was there for most of it, watching as you and Carmen went from daily hangouts to a weekly phone call, to a monthly check-in text, to, well, nothing.
She consoled you through most of the grieving phase of a post-breakup, like you had done for her a couple of times before. And after a few weeks of busting into tears anytime his name was mentioned, you began to heal, and focused those strong emotions towards improving yourself.
Natalie let a wistful sigh, pulling you out of your thoughts. Shaking the fog away, you give a remorseful smile at having basically cut Sugar off midway through her spiel. She gives you another small smirk before shaking her head, dismissing your silent apology with a wave of her hand. She draws another sip of her sparkling juice.
"But Carmen has been driving me up the wall with all the shit he wants me to help juggle. If I schedule one more appointment I might pull my hair out."
"Oh no, please don't do that, honey," Pete calls out from the kitchen, very obviously having been listening in on your gossip time from the kitchen table. Sugar gives off slight grimace at Pete's abrupt callout at her obvious exaggeration, shrugging her shoulders and giving a placating call back towards her husband.
Reaching back towards the table, you grab the wine glass from earlier. "Do you have anyone to help you? You know I have some connects who can manage the money and strategy end?" You offer, more than willing to alleviate some of the stress from your friend's shoulders.
"Yeah, can I have that guy who assisted you when you managed La Raison?" Sugar teases. "I have no idea how you managed to help that business go from near bankrupt to one of the best sellers down Michigan Avenue."
"Carter? Yeah, no. That dude was an asshat. He was more useful kissing up to the store owners than actually doing his job," you shake your head at the mention of one of your old employers. Since graduating, you had taken into strategic and financial management for businesses across Chicago. La Raison had been one of your main businesses for a while, the owners soon becoming close friends of yours.
You loved what you did, though business management sounded like a right pain to most, you found joy in being able to rub your braincells together and actually make a difference. Plus, the pay wasn't too bad either.
Sugar chuckles. "Yeah, well, I wish I could just have you as a little angel on my shoulder, giving me all the answers to all of these problems that keep popping up."
Though she was joking, you can see the way her brows furrow simply thinking of all of the things that she has to do. You could only imagine the stress she is under right now. Balancing opening a new restaurant with her ever-present family dilemmas, and a baby on the way?
Natalie was beyond used to extensive stress, so you know she won't verbally express all of her worries. But the thought of Sugar carrying all of that on her shoulders draws a slight frown on your face.
Before you know it, the thoughts are falling from your brain and past your lips.
"What if I helped you manage the place."
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You honestly do not know why you offered to help manage this fuckery that is disguised as a restaurant.
Shortly after you had offered to help, it was as if Natalie had died, saw the light, and returned back to Earth. She squealed like a teenage girl and thanked you profusely. While she shaked you and explained all the things that needed to be done, you slowly began to realize the implications of your offer.
You, helping Natalie manage Carmen, your ex-boyfriend's, restaurant. A responsibility that would obviously take months.
And honestly, you were tempted to withdraw your offer despite the happy squeals of relief that Natalie was letting out. That was, until the tears of relief started pouring from her eyes.
Those pregnancy hormones really guilt tripped you.
Now, a week later, you're back at The Beef. Well, you suppose The Beef is gone officially now, the rusting sign pulled down from its former position hanging above the restaurant entrance.
"Why the hell did I sign up for this shit," you question out loud, watching as Manny and Angel pulling out a broken sign from inside the restaurant. Sighing, you reach into your bag and pull out a cigarette box, pulling one out before digging for your lighter in your back pocket.
"Mami, what are you doing here?" You turn around at the voice behind you, cigarette hanging loosely from your lips. Tina stands behind you, a smile stretched across her lips. "Seeing you two weeks in a row? Someone must be dying."
You smile, opening your arms for a hug that Tina reciprocates. "Oh you know, I'm here to save your asses from complete and utter failure." Tina gently pats your back as you pull apart, and it makes you regret not checking in on her and the rest of the crew more often.
"Missed you, T." You mutter, a small grin pulling up on one corner of your mouth.
"Missed you too, mami," Tina pats your arm before wrapping her hand around your elbow. "Now, I'm not trying to step on your toes but...you do know who your helping out right?"
You grimace at her implication, the reality hitting you once again. Behind those glass windows stands the man who took your heart and literally tossed it away like it was nothing. Took all of those years that you had spent together and wasted it away.
Broke up with you over fucking text.
And now, you're about to walk into his restaurant and help Sugar, and, consequently, help him fix this fuck up.
Talk about fate.
"Yeah, T," you start, letting her guide you towards the entrance of the restaurant, where you see Marcus and Fak carrying out some lockers. You wave towards the men, to which Fak responds with such enthusiasm that he drops some of the lockers on the ground, much to Marcus' chagrin.
You grimace before continuing. "Just helping my asshole ex because his sister is my bestie."
Sugar had texted you that Sydney, Carmen's former sous chef and business partner, had been more than happy to hire you as a strategic manager for the business. Although she didn't mention it, you knew that a certain dirty-blonde was not so excited at mention of you coming to help.
"He knows we need the help, no matter how fragile his tiny little ego is," Natalie had told you, a knowing smile on her face.
"Don't lose your head, boss." Tina teases, pushing you first through the doorway. As you finally enter the store, you take note of the pure chaos that is the restaurant.
Plywood and debris scattered across the flower, miscellaneous kitchen supplies and utilities lining the walls. Ebraheim and Sweeps were taking a sledgehammer to some random panels, while Richie was yelling something from the kitchen. As you take in the madness, Tina pats your elbow before heading back towards the kitchen.
"Welcome to The Bear!" Richie calls out as soon as he notices you. Spreading his arms out in what you assume is a hug, you only offer him a solid stare. Richie drops his arms and heads towards you despite your very clear disdain for him at the moment. "Glad you could join the team, bug."
"Richie, why the hell are you covered in black dust?"
"Inconsequential, sweetheart," you roll your eyes at his response before stepping over the debris in front of you.
"Where's Nat, Richard," you question walking behind the bar and towards the office in the back. Richie grumbles something under his breath before shouting out 'office.' Busting through the kitchen door, you note that the kitchen is just as messy as the front of the house. Stepping over black dust on the ground, you tread over to the office.
"Suge? You in there?" You call out, peering over the corner and into the office. The room is unoccupied, filled with nothing but discarded papers with miscellaneous phone numbers and sprawled writings.
You make note of what you know to be Nat's handwriting, eyes trailing over all of her notes for appointments and scheduling. Your eyes also rove over the chicken scratch that you also know to be Carmen's scribbles. Placing your bag down on the desk, you sit down in the rolling chair and decide to wait for Sugar to come in.
You grabbed a random pile of papers and attempted to digest some of the information being presented to you.
Bank statements, IRS requests, insurance, licenses, permits.
Judging by all the shit that needed to get cleared just for the restaurant to legally be open, your surprised that Mikey wasn't being physically chased down by the IRS and thrown into jail.
"Hey, Sugar, Syd and I are going to work on the chaos menu tonight so I'm going to leave the rest up to you, okay?"
Carmen slings around the corner, too focused on pulling his coat on his shoulders to notice who exactly was sitting in the office.
Instinctively, you freeze at his sudden appearance in the doorway, breath caught in your throat. At the lack of response, Carmen finally looks up and makes direct eye contact with you.
His blue eyes widen, clearly not expecting you to be the person in the chair. You rack your brain over the next move to make, the silence continuing as he just stands in the doorway and practically gawks at your existence.
Deciding that staring indefinitely at each other was probably one of the worst things you can currently think of, you clear your throat to break the silence. That seems to break Carmen out of whatever state of shock he seemed to be in; you watch as he awkwardly wrings his hands, like he was at a lost of what to do next.
You're half-expecting him to make a repeat of the last time you saw each other and storm away from you. However, Carmen just stands there, eyes darting from you to random objects in the office then you again on repeat.
Both of you are waiting for the other to say something. To yell, chastise, and start an argument.
Biting the bullet, you start. "Hey, Carmen."
He seems to be taken aback that you even uttered his name, eyes meeting yours once again. You almost forgot how blue his eyes are-so bright that they're almost clear.
He nods in acknowledgement before saying your name to greet you in return.
Awkward silence fills the room once again. While you know that Carmen is hardly a conversationalist, this has to be the most painful quiet you've ever experienced.
Be amicable, you think to yourself. He's your boss/business partner now.
You're doing this for Sugar.
"Umm..," you trail off, eyes scanning the office around you in attempts to find something else to talk about. "I tried to find Nat, but she might have gone A.W.O.L"
Carmen nods his head a couple of times, a soft hmm leaving his lips. You can tell that he wants to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue but sealed behind his lips.
"Yeah, ok-okay, yeah." He nods rapidly, crossing his arms across his chest, lowering his gaze down to your shoes.
"Yep."
God, someone shoot me now.
Carmen clears his throat. "I-I-uuhh, you know, Sugar really appreciates the help."
You nod, licking your lips out of habit. "Yeah, she's told me."
"Yeah?"
"Yep."
Just when you were about to figure out a way to turn invisible or sink into the floor, Sugar rounds the corner and lightly bumps into Carmen's back. She lets out a noise of surprise from her throat and Carmen jerks forward a little.
"Carmy, why the fuck are you standing in the fucking doorwa-" Sugar cuts herself off when she spots you over her brother's shoulder. She makes eye contact with you and you swear you see a little mischief in her eyes. She pushes past Carmen to step inside of the office, crossing her arms over chest to assess the room.
You, sitting in the office chair, papers still grasped tightly in your hands and your lips practically licked dry from your nerves.
Across, Carmen stands angled towards Sugar, almost trying to physically minimize the amount of eye contact you two share.
Natalie surmises that she just saved the both of you from a very awkward moment "Oh, shit. Didn't mean to interrupt."
"No-no, uh, you're good, Sugar," Carmen sputters out, face flushing a bright red. He brings a hand over his mouth to physically stop the word vomit that was about to fall out of it. "Umm, was just gonna tell you that Sydney and I are leaving to work on the new menu."
Sugar's eyes dart over to you again, sitting stiffly in the office chair. She raises her eyebrows in question but you subtly shake your head.
Let's not talk about it right now.
She nods in acknowledgement before turning to fully face Carmen.
"Okay Carmy, you're good to go. Me and Bug here are just gonna get some paperwork sorted." Carmen looks in your direction at the use of the familiar nickname before he hmms again.
He takes a step back and waves his hand in goodbye. "All right, bye Sugar," he's fully outside of the doorway now, but he pauses before leaving you and Sugar's line of sight completely.
He stands there for a beat, running whatever thought across his mind a couple times. Finally, like he settled on an answer, Carmen gulps and raises his head to look at you.
He nods his head and whispers out your name and a goodbye, followed by a swift exit out of the kitchen.
You're practically stuck in the chair, the past five minutes having been a complete whirlwind. The kitchen door whips against the wall in a crack, the squeaking echoing from your place in the office. Your gaze is still focused on where your ex-boyfriend had stood not even a couple of seconds ago.
"Well," Sugar starts, a knowing smile across her face. "That wasn't as violent as I thought it was going to be."
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requests to be in the taglist for this fic in the replies below or send me an ask! thank you all for reading!
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paiges-1vur · 1 month
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from across the crowd pt. 2… and as always enjoy loves <3 🏀⚡️🪩
“you probably have a boyfriend.. right?”
I heard what she had said, but it was like the words didn’t register in my head for another minute. i blush for a moment, and look down before looking back at her, smiling. “no..” I say giggling slightly. why am i acting this way? Tiff lock in. she seems genuinely surprised, but before surprise another emotion crosses her face that i cant decode. “a beautiful girl like you must have a boyfriend, though” she says in total surprise. she must think im lying. “no.. no boyfriend haha” I say trying to calm my nerves. why am i so worked up right now?
“well im sure your ex boyfriends regret ever leaving you, or letting you leave” she says, flattering me. i tense up for a moment. how do i put this? “ive.. never uh- had a boyfriend” i say shyly, slightly embarrassed. i can tell my cheeks are red, but i cant do anything to hide it. “no way..” she says quietly matching my volume. she pauses before speaking again. a smirk spans over her face and she puts her hands in the pockets of her sweats. my eyes flicker down to them for a minute. my breath catches in my throat. im suddenly brought back to reality by u the sound of paiges voice, louder this time. “did you hear me?” i look up to see paige a little closer than before, hovering over me. a smirk that can only be described as devilish on her face. shit. she saw me. “uhm, im so sorry, what did you say?” i say hurriedly, my face even redder than before. nice going tiff way to be nonchalant. “dont worry about it” is all she says in reply.
she looks back down, into my eyes. “whats your name, pretty?” she asks me intently, looking down at me. “my name is tiffany but my friends just call me tiff” i reply, proud of myself that i didnt forget my name. “tiffany,” paige says it again. “even your name is cute huh” i cant help but blush and look away from her for a moment.
theres silence for a minute. but not necessarily awkward silence. just us co existing with each other. i decide to say ‘fuck it’ and be bold. when is the next time im ever going to talk to a hot basketball player, who by the way seems to be very into me. i break the silence. “paige, if you want to know anything, just ask me” i say in a low voice. i could tell something was puzzling her. she knew i had never dated a guy, so im sure she was wondering if im into guys at all.. she looks down at me, her voice dropping an octave. she moves a little closer to me, and we are still in the tunnel towards the locker room so its just us still there at this point. she leans into my ear, and whispers “so no boyfriends.. hm” i can smell her scent even stronger than from her sweatshirt and it’s intoxicating. my eyes flutter closed, breathing her in. she pauses for a moment and i can hear her breathing, “no..” i reply my voice breaking slightly. just when i think shes about to question me farther she leans away from my ear. “just wanted to make sure i heard you right.” she says smirking at me.
she then reaches down next to her and grabs her bag. she puts it on and grabs her glasses, also putting those on too. i secretly hope this moment never ends. “so, will you be out celebrating the win at teds tonight?” i speak up and ask. her eyes flicker to me, still in her hoodie and she smiles. “will i see you there..?” she asks looking at me. gosh. how is she even more sexy with her glasses on. “i guess so” i reply, biting my lip.
she looks me up and down one more time. i can tell seeing me in her hoodie is making her think of a lot of different scenarios right now. “i need to go find my friends,” i finally speak, “but it was really great to meet you paige… i guess i’ll see you tonight.” I say smiling, trying to process everything that just happened in the last 20 minutes. she smiles back at me “here, let me walk you out” she walks over to me. we walk out of the stadium and i look over and up at her. she really is big. my croatian genes may have made me a lethal face card, but in the height department they lacked. heavily.
I spot my friends car and stop walking, before looking at paige. this was a sight. she had pulled on pj pants after the game and had her keys hanging out of her pocket. she had also pulled the hair from her ponytail into a messy bun. i also never would have guessed that paige had glasses. but then again, i had only known the girl for less than an hour. i move closer to her and pull her into a hug. “it was so nice talking to you, ill see you tonight paige.” i say, making sure the hug stays somewhat friendly. she bends down to hug me, and her scent floods my senses once again. “bye tiff, ill see you tonight love” I walk over to the car before really thinking about what she said. before i get into the passengers seat of the car i look back at paige. shes standing with her hands in the pockets, and her stance looks quite intimidating. as soon as she sees me get into the car safely she turned around and walked to her car.
i sit down in the passenger’s seat of madisens car. i buckle up before i look up to see everyones eyes on me. their mouths are wide open and theres silence.
“what?” silence.
“TIFFANY KAY TELL US WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK JUST HAPPENED”
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eustasskidagenda · 11 months
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omg hi hi! i adore your writing so much :3! if its alright with you, could i get headcanons for how crocodile, law, kid, and ace would be with an autistic s/o who loves to infodump, but is nervous to do so. theres always this odd bit of shame that accompanies infodumping for me because i get so excited i cant properly articulate myself *lays down* its just a mess of stimming, stuttering, and laughing at my own jokes. i feel embarrassed after, even if its totally an illogical response. im unsure if you write for autistic y/n so feel free to ignore this if you dont. thank you so much <33
☆Crocodile, Law, Kid & Ace with an autistic s/o who loves to info dump 
Hello, dear anon! I'm not used to write autistic y/n, because I don't know enough about this and I wouldn't like to be harmful. However, the situation you're describing is something close to ADHD, which I know well. So I've made some additional researches to be sure and come up with something, I hope you will like it. Thank you for your request, it was a sweet one ♡
CW : g/n reader, slight curses for Kid, fluff 
WC : Around 1,500 words
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Crocodile 
Crocodile doesn't talk much, he's always serious and quiet. It's just that he's often thinking about his business and plans. But he's a good observer and would immediately notice if you want to say something but are too nervous to do it. He knows you perfectly, so he would recognize the way you're fidgeting.
He's a man with good manners, so his first reflex would be to lock the door and make sure no one can enter and destabilize you. When it's done, he will point his chair towards you.
"Sit. I'm listening, y/n." 
Actually, he likes hearing you speak during hours. He knows it's a way to express your love and feelings. He's flattered that you want to share your world with him. Go ahead and speak, he will listen. Even if he's just nodding or commenting short sentences in response, he has a good memory and will remember everything you said to him. 
If you're talking too fast and start to get really flustered, he will let you know that you're speaking too fast, like 'y/n, what did you just say?' 
Your hyper-focus and info-dumping are appreciated by Crocodile because he enjoys learning new things and you're a source of knowledge. Maybe he's impassive and struggles to express his feelings, but sometimes you will hear him talk about what he learned with you, so clearly he listened to every single word. 
"Don't be ashamed, it was interesting. Can we talk more about this specific point?" 
If you say something that he is really curious about, he has no shame asking for more. It's a way for him to express his genuine care for you. For him, it's a way to prove to you that even though he's always quiet, he cares.
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Law
Law is similar to Crocodile in his lack of emotional expression and limited speech. He is always busy, struggling with his parasitic thoughts and taking care of his patients. Finding some private time with you is a challenge for him. 
If you run into Law with excitement about your passion or new hyper-focus, he may feel embarrassed because it's not the perfect time for him. Autism is something he knows about, and he is an intelligent and educated man. And, he wants to make you feel safe and comfortable. 
"I'll be yours in a moment, y/n-ya."
He has a complete understanding of you and is an excellent observer. The way you're already blushing, fidgeting, and swallowing nervously. He can even hear your heart racing. So first thing first, he will tell you to take a deep breath. After all, he’s a doctor. 
"What do you wanna talk about?" 
As Crocodile, he's a great listener. When you're full of passion and excitement, he thinks you're cute. He likes the sound of your voice. He loves when you want to find him and talk about your passion, because you're offering him a break from his work. If you weren't there, he would be stuck either in work or in his own head. When he's with you, he can forget about his dream of avenging. You're his safe place, truly. 
He doesn't speak a lot. But he is listening.M and asks questions from time to time.
"Yn-ya, there's been no urge. Take your time." And if you're stuttering a lot, he would just say nothing because it's pointless to make a remark, as long as he can understand what you're saying, he will never say something about your elocution. 
"That's interesting, where did you learn that much?" 
Law is a curious and intelligent man, so he likes to learn more about almost everything. If it can help him with his plans or maybe his patients, it might even be beneficial for him.
During your bedtime together, he would ask you to talk about your passions. The way you talk and laugh is like his own lullaby. When you speak, he can find inner peace because it shuts down all the voices in his head. He might fall asleep sometimes when he feels tired. It's just that you're providing him with some relief. When he wakes up, he would be deeply sorry. "So, yesterday, you stopped at this precise point… what were you trying to say after?"
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Kid 
Kid is so goddamn loud. And really passionate. He's focused on his goal of becoming the next PK and has loved mechanics and robotics since childhood. He would be aggressively sweet, like frowning when he notices how stressed and nervous you act towards him. "Hey, Y/N, why are you so fucking nervous? Just speak" 
He thinks you're cute with your cheeks all red. On the flip side, he's a bit confused. Why are you nervous? Is it his fault? He knows he's loud, hard to love and rough, but he cares about people he likes. Have you seen how he acts with Killer and his crew? He loves his people. 
And, as a punk, Kid is marginalized. He knows a lot about being different, and if you feel ashamed about it, he can understand. "Come on y/n, let's find a private place" 
Grab your wrist in an aggressive yet sweet way and lead you to his workshop or bedroom. He sits you on the bed with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised. "Now we're alone." 
So, you start talking nervously. It doesn't matter if the topic is interesting to him or not, he will listen. Because as I said, Kid is a passionate. Everything can be made interesting by passionate people. So, yeah, talk about birds, cakes, plushies, or anything stuck in your head. He will like it. And he enjoys the sound of your voice. He’s even flattered to be your special someone, the one you’re looking for when you need to talk. It fuels his ego and pride.
He will deal with your stuttering as he deals with Killer's laugh. He'll shut up and smash all the people making fun of you if there's something you hate about yourself. You're his s/o, no one can laugh at you and continue to live without facing his rage.
"Goddamn, slow down" yes, not the best with kindness, but at least he's paying attention. 
He wouldn't help but think you're really cute, with your eyes shining as you finally manage to relax and express how passionate you are. He understands your excitement because when he talks about robots, music, punk or weapons, he's exactly the same. 
Kid is not the most culturally advanced, it depends on the topic. He enjoys learning new things thanks to you or Killer, it's important for him to be credible, and he hates looking inferior in front of others. 
"See, there was no reason to be that nervous" When you finished speaking.
Just poke your cheek, grin and leave a mark of lipstick on your front-head before returning to his activities and yelling proudly to everyone he knows everything about the subject you just info-dump about.
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Ace
The sweetest. Ace's personality is both compassionate and protective. He grew up with Luffy, so passionate and talkative people are something he knows a lot about. As he's proud of his brother, he's proud of you and can listen to everything you say for hours. 
"Y/N, is there something wrong?" 
Yeah, he would immediately notice that you're starting to get nervous. His first reflex is to find a more private place, if that's not already the case. He wants to do everything to make you feel safe and loved. If it's winter or just cold, he would even use his DF to warm the room. As soon as you're all comfortable, he'll run his fingers through your hair. "You know I will always listen." 
Ace doesn't speak a lot about what's on his mind. He's way too stubborn and always struggles with guilt due to the blood running through his veins. So he enjoys having someone like you. Your voice is soothing him, and he loves how passionate and honest you are always. 
For him, it's even amazing and unreal to have someone talk to him. You're treating him like a normal human and not a failure, because he feels like it often: unloved, unwanted and unworthy.
"Sweetie, you don't have to rush, we have the time, I'll always listen" if you start to speak too fast.
Would entwine his fingers with yours when you're stuttering and laugh heartily at your jokes. You remind him of his dear little brother. He feels lucky to have you by his side. 
"I could listen for hours." And he's totally honest.
If someone makes fun of you, he's truly mad. You are as significant to him as his brother or Whitebeard. And if someone makes fun of his loved-one, Ace is merciless and really impulsive.
"Please, say more about this specific point!", "Oh, really, that's so funny?" He wants to make you talk even more. Until you're finally relaxed and able to speak without stuttering, blushing, or anything else. He doesn't mind it, even if it lasts for hours. Once you're done, he has his usual sweet smile on his face. "That was so interesting, why are you so embarrassed?" 
So you explain to him that you feel embarrassed about your info dump because you're afraid to annoy people or talk too fast etc." It's alright, you won't bother me." 
You're his sunshine. He feels loved with you. He feels more than just the son of someone; he's just Ace, and that's the most beautiful thing in the world for him.
Such a sweet boy. ♡
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jymwahuwu · 11 months
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I was wondering. . What if scenario where darling finally escaped jing yuan by dying and jing yuan had felt all emotions at once anger, furry, sadness, despair, agony. He just cant move on from darling he waited and waited for her next reincarnation and. . Finally after so long of waiting she was finally here standing, breathing and alive
And his not so kind once he kidnapped darling once more and had locked her on his (their) shared bedroom then he just basically fucks darling to the hell and back after so long and he makes her cum and darling felt overstimulated and had kept crying to him to slow down and trying to push him away because who in the right mind would suddenly pull a strange onto some person's house then fucks them into oblivion?!
(Basically idk why im horny or maybe its because i have a period idk anymore-)
From Cloud anon!
thank you cloud anon<3 hesitant to write this…but i love the thirsty ending 🫣 for Jing Yuan, if his clingy and sweet side can't keep you… he doesn't mind getting rough…?
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CW: yandere, angst, non-con, kidnapping, overstimulation, (mentioned) death in the past
(The relationship between the reader here and Jing Yuan’s past life is described in a rather vague way. Please DON’T send me requests and comments about angst and take revenge on yandere. I’m tired of receiving those 😭 Please read the rules.)
That's a really rare concept for long living species; life blooms in the spring and withers in the winter. Jing Yuan placed flowers on the coffin, and… still… worked and lived as usual, arranging Luofu's daily affairs at the seat of divine foresight. People whispered- they said, Look. The general is so ruthless. His only lover in centuries had withered like a flower, and he was unmoved.
Jing Yuan knows that he can still live as usual, but there is an empty gap in his heart, which often aches, but he still chooses to keep you in his heart instead of letting time pass by. No loss can cause Jing Yuan to stagnate, he just lives with wounds. He regretted not leaving more holographic records and replayed the few videos you had, over and over again. "mm- Jing Yuan-" Your lips parted slightly, a record of a time when you were so annoyed that you blocked the camera with your hands and giggled while eating ice cream. That was - that was when you liked him, right? The general sometimes wonders - are you tired of him pestering you like that? He apologized, apologized, apologized bitterly - but you wouldn't hear it again. In the end, he still couldn't keep you, you flowed away between his fingers like floating sand. What had hundreds of years left for him?
Reincarnation - Jing Yuan really found you, in another galaxy. In the dim light, you are standing on the street, laughing and chatting with your friends. A familiar frown and a sweet smile, and when talking about interesting topics, the clear and sweet laughter leaked out. Similar facial features, similar movements and expressions are the imprint of the same soul. Jing Yuan suppressed the urge to take you away immediately, knowing that he must first find out your identity in this life. He removes every possible obstacle and takes you away.
Locked up in a room, in the general's mansion. Since you didn't like being able to travel freely among the stars in your previous life.
To you, you who have no information, this is really the cage that abruptly descends. Be sent to the Xianzhou ship by the people of your planet. Your hands are locked with a bunch of locks made of solid space material, but they are wrapped in plush fabric as if to prevent your wrists from getting hurt. The burly man with long white hair, said to be a general named Jing Yuan, caresses your body desperately - desperately. Lots of sticky, dazzling kisses. His tongue dipped into your mouth to search. Tears…tears? This mysterious man doesn't shed tears when you look at him, it's like the tears have dried up. Your thighs and calves were tied together and spread apart, forcing you to expose your most private parts and squirt on his thick fingers for hours. Orgasm is no excuse to stop. After your struggles and twitches, those fingers didn't slow down at all. The cock is buried deep inside you without any suspense after the warm-up is completed. The tight walls contracted and the liquid spread outward.
You are confused - confused, orgasming in pleasure, wanting to push him away (but your hands are tied), asking who he is and why he treats you like this while still maintaining your senses, and all you get is silence. It was the silence of not wanting to repeat the old dreams. From behind, his entire crotch is pressed against your ass, and even your hands are pressed by him, rocking and pounding you back and forth, occasionally kissing your cheek in a daze. Face to face, staring into your eyes, the lower body is closely connected. On top, you were forced to ride him, swinging your waist. From the side, a strong arm lifts one of your legs and slowly inserts it. In front, sucking and servicing that cock for hours. Seed and fluid oozed from the connection. There are two trembling vibrators stuck to your nipples. What a mess.
After making up for some of the love he hadn't had in hundreds of years, the general felt more at ease. Jing Yuan's hands wrapped around your shoulders and waist. You wanted to hate him so much- hate him, but he read you bedtime stories and space. He prepares rich meals for you, toys to relieve your boredom, and kisses your forehead. He promises to take you out, but not now.
Not now.
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calicoheartz · 5 months
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Can you write a Caitlin Clark where she always tapes her ring finger before the game and people find videos from way back in high school of her doing this tradition, after a Iowa game she gets interviewed about the tradition, and everyone pays attention even her teammates bc she never told them the reason behind the tradition which was bc she married her high school sweetheart and knew ever since they got together she was gonna marry her
The Promise of Always ; Caitlin Clark ﹒⟢
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summary : you and Caitlin being highschool sweethearts ♡
wc; 346
warnings : none , just fluff :)
my master list ㇀♡
a/n : im trying my best to finish up the rest of the reqs , there will be a lot more new content by the end of this weekend ❤️ enjoy ◡̈
Caitlin stood at the edge of the basketball court, her fingers deftly wrapping tape around her ring finger.
The star guard was always known for her pre-game routines. One such ritual, unnoticed by many, was the habit of taping her ring finger before every game. A tradition she had carried since her highschool years, with the reason behind it only being known to her, hidden beneath the layers of tape and unspoken memories.
But as Caitlin’s fame grew, so did the curiosity about this particular ritual. People began to notice the taped finger and wondered about its significance. However the point guard kept her reasons to herself, never sharing them even with her closest teammates.
After a particularly thrilling game against a fierce rival, where her skills once again shone brightly, a reporter finally mustered up the courage to ask her about the mysterious tradition.
Caitlin, surprised by the question, remained as composed as ever, paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. She then glanced at her teammates briefly, realizing she never truly explained the reason behind this tradition of hers.
Taking a deep breath, she slowly began to speak. Sharing the story of the time where she met and fell in love with her highschool sweetheart, claiming their bond had been strong from the start, and as they grew older they knew they had to make a promise to eachother. A promise of eternal love and commitment.
“We always knew we were meant to be together,” she explained, “So I started taping my ring as a reminder of the promise we made to eachother long ago. Especially since I cant wear my wedding ring while playing” she giggled.
As the interview spread across social media, videos from Cait’s highschool games resurfaced, showing her taping her finger, a simple but gesture that is so deeply personal yet so powerfully symbolic.
Not long after, pictures of your magical wedding day and quiet engagement were posted to the guards personal social media, no longer feeling the need to keep your whirlwind of a romance a secret.
her post 🥹❤️
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liked by : paigebueckers , katemartin03 , and 256,000 others
caitlinclark22 happy anniversary to the person who completes me. My other half. I love you more than words can describe , thank you for giving me the strength and courage to continue with my dreams. I’ve adored you since I was 16, and I will continue to adore you until the end. I love you y/n ! 💍
-
sorry this was so short!! i tried not to stray too far from the prompt so lmk if u want more details! tysm for reading 😊
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coeurify · 2 years
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perfect girl lll | ellie williams
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pairing & word count: ellie williams x fem!reader. modern college au, drug dealer ellie. part 1&2 here, read that first. wc: 11.3k
description: ellie williams and you can never seem to see eye to eye, but you always end up back at each other’s feet.
warnings & tags: 18+ . more fluffy than the others. dramatic lesbians who cant stop arguing. mean!reader, slightly less mean!ellie. slightly toxic relationship. jealousy, drinking. in depth talk of weed and smoking it. (i tried my best. may be a stoner but i cant describe it for shit) cut off sex at the start, semi public sex later, name calling (ellie calls reader a slut at one point) and rough treatment. the whole works. a slightly happy ending tho !
The sun isn’t the first warmth you feel against you when you wake. It's much heavier, hotter, unlike the lukewarm dashes of sun that come through your dorm window. This warmth breathes against your bare skin, presses down on your stomach from its spot above you.
The warmth is much more annoying than the light of the sun, and has the name Ellie, which you grumble as soon as your eyes open.
“Ellie,” your fingers move to push her haphazardly thrown arm and body off of you. You aren’t sure how you had ended up tangled together like this, but the weight of her face in your neck and her chest half over you is enough to send a sort of regret coursing through you, a deep ache in your veins. It’s too close, too much.
The other girl groans, slapping a hand out and over your mouth as if to shush you. For a moment you debate biting down on it, but that would probably be against your better judgment. Instead you move your face away and scooch to the very opposite end of the bed. You ignore the way your body involuntarily shivers at the lack of Ellie’s body heat, body turning uncomfortably.
Your eyes search around the room, stomach swooping low at the sight of all the clothes on your rug. The reminder of the night before makes your fingers run against your neck, hissing when you press down on a bite mark. You finally find what you were looking for, the small blinking numbers on your electronic clock. It was about a quarter before nine, and for once you had no place to be beside whatever Saturday party you were sure to be begged to attend later. But you had the sudden urge to get up and go.. go somewhere other than the blinding heat beside you. But no excuse was valid enough in your mind to leave the sleeping girl beside you, despite the uneven beat to your heart.
Ellie had stayed the night. You had slept naked with her, shifted around multiple times through the night to rest comfortably against her, pulled blankets from each other.. you woke up with her lips against your skin..and you weren’t sure how to handle it. It went against everything you stood for. Hiding a guest in the sorority house, letting yourself fall victim to the awful hookup culture with a piece of shit. An absolutely gorgeous piece of shit. One that you hated, but didn’t seem to be able to stick to that particular feeling all too well.
Your nose crinkles at your brain's own thoughts, embarrassed you could call Ellie gorgeous, like that was the most awful thing to admit.. You finally move to sit up, arms wrapping around your own chest to hide the flesh from certain eyes that may pop open. The skin there is slightly sticky with sweat, and you move to disappear off the bed and into your bathroom. You aren’t able to do so, a hand from the side of you pulling you straight back down onto the bed with a thump.
It’s Ellie’s hands of course, tired green eyes blinking at you as her body shifts to the side so she can watch you. The way Ellie’s pupils shift around your face and then off to the wall makes you think she may also be having a moment of anxiety at the current situation, but she seems much better at hiding it.
Neither of you however are good at real conversations that arent insults or fucking, apparently— so its a bit awkward when she says, “Good Morning.” Ellie looks almost nervous, something lingering in her eyes while she looks at you. Almost admiring you.
You can't deny that she looks pretty. Her auburn hair usually pulled half up is instead slightly tangled and all over her cheeks, messy from a night of tossing and turning around in the small college bed. You want to reach forward, push it behind her ears and watch where it falls against her jawline. You can still smell a twinge of weed and whatever cologne she uses on her, but now it's overtaken by the familiar scent of your sheets instead. Something about Ellie smelling like you makes bubbles rise in your chest— and you have to look away for a second before you start actually moving to touch her.
Your tongue swipes over the dry lips it finds, searching for your next words, “Morning. I was getting up to take a shower, you were all over me in your sleep last night.. Im sweaty,” muttering, you find comfort in the, “annoying by the way..” you add.
Ellie relaxes into the banter as well, seeming too happy to rid the room of the tension that had begun to fill the space. “Annoying? I woke up cold as fuck like three times because you stole all the blankets. And you snore.”
An offended gasp rises in your throat. “I do not snore you dick!” Reaching an arm out to shove her, you leave your chest exposed again, the air nipping at the skin. You realize this after a split second, scrambling to pull the blanket to cover you instead.
It makes Ellie snort, barely moved by the very light attack on her shoulder. “You definitely do snore..” her gaze moves to the blanket pulled up to your chin. “And I think it’s a bit too late to cover up for me now, honestly.”
The words make your stomach turn, a burning reminder of the now repeated actions that had taken place with her. She was right, having seen every inch of your body by this point, every spot usually hidden from the outside world had been drunk up by her eyes at least once. Instead of focusing on how warm that made you, your fingers reached forward to pull at the sports bra she wore, smiling when it slapped back into place and caused a surprised yelp to leave Ellie.
“Yea, pretty unfair though, I slept naked and you're all—”
“Not?” Ellie finishes, smiling lopsidedly at you. It feels oddly intimate, joking around with her like this while lounging on the sheets you both had skewed off their places on the mattress.
“Yea.. that’s why i'm all sticky and sweaty and you aren't.. dick.” you scoff, not really all that mad. Not as mad as you wished you were.
“Well..” Ellie moves to tower over you, arms on either side of your covered frame. “Since I apparently smell bad,” she mumbled— calling back to your multiple comments from the last party— “I guess I don't mind a bit of sweat,” and then she's dipping down, sniffing dramatically at your neck. “Ugh, disgusting.. you do need a shower.”
You make a face, squirming under her. “Shut up!” It’s hard to hold back the smile her ticklish breath against your throat brings, hurting your reddening cheeks at the effort.
She responds by pressing a loud and sloppy kiss on your cheek, chuckling in a way that squeezes your ribcage so tightly it feels it may snap. Her leg presses against you just enough to make something tumble around inside you.
“Stop slobbering on me,” you whine, all too loudly. The words drag out too long, the tone too breathy. You both pause, Ellie raising from her place on your cheek.
There's an invisible line you just hopped right over, spilling away from the quiet and sleepy morning and more into something you knew. The hitch in your voice that Ellie had come to know much too well sent you both nose diving out of that too intimate moment and straight back into the burning you had grown accustomed to.
This look, the one where she is much more awake— focused on your parted lips, you could deal with this. There was no awkwardness about her gaze, no hidden affection like that of when she said good morning, the one that made you want to curl away. This look you knew, this look you both knew what to do with.
Ellie let out a breath, something you couldn’t quite understand going on in her mind. Maybe something similar to your own, falling into one of the only two things you know how to feel together, want.
Her head is dipping down again, this time less jokingly and more clearly focused. Her lips press a softer kiss at your cheek this time, and then on your jaw— pausing for your reaction.
“You want me to stop this?” Ellie asks, a tad more breathy now. You suppose neither of you can really help this sort of reaction around each other. It was easier than addressing the other, softer feelings blooming.
You still hated this, the way she always makes you answer her, makes you say what you really want. Hate the way it makes you all dizzy, makes your thighs squeeze a bit tighter. You’re too tired still to put up a fight now though, giving into her much easier. You won't admit that it was becoming harder to deny her, that that absolute anger you used to find from the way she made you feel was slipping steadily away with each new kiss.
“No, keep going,” you sigh out, hand finding her hair, playing gently with the locks that only reach the middle of her neck. When she shivers from the fingers against her scalp, you smile.
Ellie is also smiling, though for a different reason. That being your immediate answer to her question. “It’s really easy to seduce you, ya know?” she jokes against your skin, biting at the flesh near your collarbone.
“Are you calling me easy?” you accuse, a pout building on your lips. God, you wanted to smack yourself, smack away the dripping feeling down your throat of affection that comes from her teases. Like syrupy sugar in your mouth that you couldn’t swallow. You wanted to feel angry again, wanted this to go faster.. rougher. But neither of you had that in yourselves right now, and neither of you really wanted it. Even if you tried to convince yourself.
“Only for me of course, princess..” Ellie continues, thumb pressing over the still sore marks on your neck. When you whimper, it makes her push harder, drawing another sharp whine out.
“You look so pretty with these,” she compliments, bubbling up that odd mixture of push and pull you felt from the all too sweet tone. It's creating something awful inside you. A swarm too violent to be butterflies in your belly. No, these were wasps, evil and mean.. ruining every bit of your insides. You can't get them out, unable to cough out the stinging that each soft touch from ellie inacts.
You only hum in reply, nails still playing in her hair as she peels the blanket off of your body to kiss lower. The air, though warm, makes you shiver. Maybe just from the pure exposure of it, goosebumps pricking at your skin.
“Been dying to taste you ever since the party, can I?” Ellie’s words are slightly quieter due to her lips on the swell of your breasts, and then they wrap around your nipple. your hips shoot straight up from the feel, eyes squeezing shut to welcome in the blackened vision. Heat erupts out of you with the next tug of her lips, burning your skin from top to bottom, numbing your mind with such a simple touch. Her eyes flick up, teeth scraping against the now hard nub.
You nod quickly, “yea- please, el..”
Maybe it should be a bit shameful that you spread your legs so quickly at the words, that while she works on your nipples you are dripping onto the bedsheets under you, something you would have been starkly against if it was anyone else.
The only noises as she continues her trail of kisses down your stomach are your own needy breaths and the slight blow of the air against the trees outside. You can hear the creak of floorboards to your left, all the other girls in the house sure to stir awake soon. The realization almost pushes you straight up, an all too real reminder of your current predicament. Your heart stutters, breath pauses, and even if Ellie can blame it on her lips, you can’t. Shooing the shame away you instead focus on how she’s nearing your thighs, her hands pressing your them open.
“Already wet,” Ellie chides, burning your face as your eyes make friends with the ceiling. You watch the slight texture of the white surface as if it can stop the embarrassment that pools in you.
Her lips find a new mission of a place to mark up, the target being your thighs. The sensitive skin is bitten into, and you clamp a manicured hand over your mouth. Squirming on the bed you breathe into your own palm, eyelashes fluttering against a finger. The smallest of touches from Ellie got you worked up, so her lips so close to where you needed her.. it ruined you. Your clammy palm stops the noises, muffled and quiet. Your hips buck needily, making her head move with it.
“Calm down baby, barely gotten started..” her voice is rougher now, and you can hear her swallow as she takes in your weeping center. Finally pulling your gaze away from the ceiling to instead look down at her, you are met with a very flushed Ellie, lips puffy from their previous assault on your thighs. It’s enough for you to feel faint, eyes blurring at how much it turned you on.
“Ellie..” you whisper, words harsh, “stop teasing.”
Ellie rolls her eyes, tsking at the attitude. “Cant enjoy my girl?”
My girl, My girl, My girl. it repeats in your head over and over, squeezing your nerves around its twisted little syllables, tilting your vision. Two simple words, ones you don’t think Ellie thought even twice about, something she probably says to every girl she's been with.. they send you completely off kilter. You can’t tell if you feel nauseous because you don’t like it, don't like her acting like she was anything to you.. or if the queasiness and watering in your mouth comes from the need to hear her say it again.
But you aren’t. You aren’t her girl, and you don't want to be.
With the first lick of her tongue on your folds, your mind falls back down into the moment. No longer able to focus on the swirl of panicked thoughts in your mind. Your fingers tug her hair harshly, legs wrapping around her as she licks deeper. You let yourself ignore the words she so casually just said, and instead focus on her between your legs.
But as your toes curl, mouth falling opening.. the other shoe drops. A loud knock at your door startles you, enough for you to immediately shove Ellie’s face away, palm pressing harshly at her face as you kick away. It was a bit aggressive, and she pops up from your thighs groaning and pressing a hand to her now red forehead. Her lips are glassy with spit and your slick as she turns to look at the door. It makes your breath stutter.
“Hey, some of us are gonna go out for some brunch to talk, wanna come?” The shrill voice of your sorority sister Ali passes through the wood door, followed by a smiley sounding Dina, “and pleaseee come to the party tonight!”
Ellie watches you carefully, studying the way the color has drained from your face. How your ribs move up and down with hard breaths, how you pull your knees up to your chest to put space between the two of you. Ellie is literally witnessing you completely close back off as a blanket wraps around your frame, acting as a shield from her. The wasps finally are spilling out of your mouth with a jumble of words, “Yea, i'm not busy. Give me like twenty minutes ok?”
You won't even look at Ellie as you stand, shaking like a damn leaf as you kick around the clothes on the rug in a fit, moving after to the dresser. Quickly underwear is tugged over your hips, followed by a shirt.. and a skirt, all in complete silence.
Ellie has not moved an inch, looking on as you run around like a scared mouse about to be caught by a housecat, eyes wide and beady as you make sure your door is locked. She only is made to move when you throw her sweatshirt at her.
“You have to- you have to leave, sneak out.”
The words hang in the air, finally meeting her eyes. For a moment she seems frozen, mulling over the words you said, taking in the way her hair had blown back when you tossed her shirt to her. The moment dies, her face morphing into one of disbelief.
“Sneak out?” Ellie repeats, sounding literally dumbfounded.
“No one can see I have someone in here for a hookup,” the word burns your tongue, “especially not you.”
As soon as you say it, you feel the difference. The air in the room has gone cold, wasps now free from your stomach stinging harshly at both of you, though they flocked to Ellie more with every avoiding language you used.
“You’re unbelievable, really.” Ellie scoffs, sweatshirt pulling over her head. Her voice is low, completely emotionless in a way that makes you feel a little sick again. That light had switched off inside of her too, and you both watched on as the other stiffened, painting over the dreamy-ness of the morning instead with that known anger you feel in regards to each other. The one you had for months, bubbling right back up.
“Excuse me?” You narrow your eyes, moving to pull on flats, distracting the trembling of your body.
“I spent the night in your bed, I was just in between your thighs..” Ellie stands up, moving across the room as her voice raises, causing you to shush her quickly, eyes widening. As if this was the worst of your problems right now.
“Those are my marks on you. And you’re gonna kick me out and act like nothing happened, again?” Ellie accuses, shaking her head. “You know, for a second I thought- ” Ellie blinks, stumbling over her words.
You pause. Thought what? Thought you felt something? Thought last night changed you two? If Ellie had guessed any of those it would have been a bullseye, an arrow straight into your thumping heart. But never would you admit it.
“Fuck It doesn’t even matter. You are still the same stuck up bitch you’ve always been. I'm over it,” Ellie grumbles, adding another gut punch with the use of your name following it.
“Why are you being a dick Ellie? Its the fucking rules of the sorority.” You shake your head incredulously, motioning to her like she’s acting crazy. Like she has no right to be embarrassed by the fact you were shoving her out like some mistake again, after the fight that happened about the same thing last night. Here you are again, pushing her back and speaking with venom laced in your tone. Acting like that bitch you always were at parties, arms stiff against your chest.
“We both know that's not the reason,” Ellie goes again reading your mind, calling you out on every thorn coated excuse you spit.
“Stop being so dramatic and get out,” you hiss, no longer able to press any sensibility into your actions, too taken over by the feeling you use everyday to shield yourself, anger, avoidance, harshness.
“Okay, fine, no more.” Ellie says suddenly.
Your lips part to ask what she meant, but it's no use, she beats you to it.
“I'm not gonna get played like some toy for you again, the hook-ups,” she spits the word, “are done, i’m not fucking with you again. Not entertaining your game anymore.” The words shove you straight into a bucket of cold water, drenching you with a harsh shiver it brings to your spine.
It's the first time today that you realize you cannot just keep breaking the tip of a pencil and ask it to still write. The wood will scrape nastily against the paper, no words will come. You can't keep pushing Ellie and expect her to allow the little game you have played for months to continue. Especially not the more physical one that began two weeks ago.
Still, you press on, covering your whole body in stone. “Hook ups, Ellie. That’s all it was, haven’t you had them with half the fucking school?”
Ellie shakes her head again, pants tucked back on and backpack over her shoulder. “Yea. That’s all it is.”
She leaves through the door with a harsh slam of it, and you know better than to follow her and make sure no one sees.
Angry tears brush at your eyes, throat closing with the need to scream into something.
Ellie fucking Williams.
Why did it matter so much to you that she just left? For months you were completely fine shaming her to the depths of hell, you were fine with the insults and banter that you got at each party, where you picked out small bits of information about each other in between insults.
But that had changed the minute you were locked in that room with her in that frat party. It changed the moment your voices both pushed out words about how you had wanted this, leaving the admittance that you thought about each other out in the air. It only got worse the second time you welcomed her between your legs, kissing her like she was more than a hookup.. telling her you wanted her to stay the night.. falling asleep on her.
It had all been changing over and over since that first press of your lips to her own. You didn’t like it. Didn’t like how out of control it made you. So you instead will wallow in your own self destruction to keep that sense of control.
You aren’t sure how long passes before you move to change into a high necked shirt to cover the marks and walk out the door, but you will yourself to ignore the thoughts. You find your friends and walk out the door, acting like you haven’t just had the worst morning of your whole year.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
You’re warm again. Your legs hurt from the walking you had done with an empty stomach to this house on the very edge of campus, building a burn in your thighs. The uncomfortable amount of color corrector and concealer on your neck is beginning to feel sweaty, and you pull the neck of your top up a bit.
You had complained to Dina right away when she told you what frat tonight’s party would be at. It was over brunch, where you ordered nothing but a drink, unable to eat anything due to the constant swirling in your stomach. All of your sorority sisters had absolutely beamed when you agreed to go to the party, though your reasoning may be a little.. out of place. When you learned where it would be, your nose tilted up in disgust at the thought of the awful walk you had done a dozen times.
It was as bad as you thought, heels stretching against your shoes as you neared the house. Seriously, who puts a part of campus on a hill like this? It seems a bit inhumane to you.
When you reach the door, your feet pause, bumping into whichever of your friends is right behind you. “You scared or something? Parties can’t bite,” Ali giggled, making you shake your head.
No, but someone who may be inside this party could. One that you had pretty heavily pissed off this morning. The music is heard even from the door, and when you step in, that familiar heavy muggy feeling wraps around your body, curling your lip.
“I just dont get how you all enjoy these things, it feels like a sauna and smells like a fucking dump,” you mutter to her ear.
Dina pushes in, bumping her arm against your own. “You would enjoy them too if you let yourself relax a little. Always so strung up,” she shakes her head and pouts. The comments like those you receive daily usually slide off your back with no second thought, but for some reason that one stuck.
“Maybe,” the next words that you say felt foreign coming from your glossed lips, and a little fake, “I’ll try to relax.”
Dina grins even brighter, Ali clapping next to you like you had just won the fucking lottery or something. A tight smile presses to your mouth as you let the two girls drag you in along with the rest of your group.
The agreement wasn’t for the benefit of your friends, really. It was for your own sanity and a hopeful resolve to the awful sickness in your stomach and tightness in your muscles. You would blame it on the fact you had gotten worked up without relief this morning, not the way your chest hurt at the thought of the girl who had caused it.
Of course your words didn’t mean you would immediately follow Dina into the middle of the crowd of dancing college students, some of whom were embarrassing themselves by trying to climb on a table. No, you were still you. So you called it a cesspool with a scowl on your face when Dina suggested you dance. Instead you promised her you would talk to people and have a few drinks then meet up with them later if you were drunk enough to dance. Dina took what she could get.
So you made your way to the drink table, of which was tucked neatly in front of the sliding door that led to the backyard. You press your hair behind your ear as you lean over it, inspecting all the bottom shelf liquor that was already almost empty. For once you had left your hair mostly down, too much of a fuss to put it up and rid it of all the fly aways. Settling instead for pulling only some of it back with a pretty little bow that matched the shade of your skirt. Again, not exactly frat party material... but when had you ever dressed appropriately for them?
Your nose scrunched as you finally decided on the most untouched looking tequila, pouring a hefty amount into the solo cup your nails scraped against. The first sip makes your throat sting from the taste, but you refuse to add any of the juice that was left uncapped beside you. Always picking the harder option, apparently.
A giggle from behind you pulled you from the spit pooling in your mouth, and you turned to find the lips it belonged to. “Ellie, pour me a drink?” The voice asks, freezing you completely.
A very pretty girl tugs a tattooed arm to the opposite end of the table, the girl’s black painted nails dancing over the worst choice of vodka. Your eyes attach to the owner of the arm she’s dragging, stomach swooping when You are met with the side of Ellie’s face. It had been only a little over 12 hours since you’d seen this view, and it still made you woozy all over. Her face isn’t as hard as it had been this morning, when you fought with her and made her leave. No, Ellie looked generally relaxed, the pretty college girl on her arm probably the cause.
“Not sure you’re asking the right person, alcohol isn’t really my strong suit..” Ellie chuckled, still not having noticed you. When her eyes remove from the head of brunette hair she was focused on, the green instead focused on you. They drop back immediately, paying you absolutely no mind.
It makes your jaw click, unreasonably angry at how she could glance over you like you were a fucking brick wall. Your lips find the edge of the cup again, gulping down too long of a sip. Retrospectively, this was an awful idea, one that left you almost gagging as you pulled away, the liquid dripping from the corner of your mouth as you force down the last swallow. But it got Ellie’s attention on you again for a moment, her words stuttering just slightly as your fingers grip around the bottle, greedily taking that instead of the solo cup. So really it may be worth it. Not that you cared about Ellie’s gaze.
The wasps are making home in your stomach again the moment she looks at you again, almost curious. You swallow their buzzing down with a swig of the glass bottle.
You turn on your heel, annoyance only growing as you see the brunette lean onto Ellie. The tequila induced heat in your belly is fanning the flames already there. You had no right to be mad at Ellie, and a more reasonable part of your brain knew that. But the way she smiled down at the girl made you want to rip your fucking hair out.
Your feet plant heavily a few feet away, leaning back against the wall as you finally feel the liquor start to settle. Your eyelashes flutter, working hard to keep your attention in the middle of the party and not the chorus of voices to the side of you. You didn’t care what Ellie was doing. She was just a hook-up that ended badly. Your inner voice repeated similar phrases, trying to coax you into a false sense of security with the lie. It works only on the surface, your pupils still glancing over quickly every few seconds.
The straw that breaks your back Is when Ellie turns, leaning against the wall so the pretty girl can stand close to her as she fishes out a lighter, placing what you assume is a joint between her lips. The lighter is handed to the brunette, who flicks it to life and leans in even closer, lighting it for Ellie.
She’s fucking showing off, taunting you, you’re sure of it. Even if she doesn’t glance your way once, you are convinced of this. Maybe it’s a little egotistical to assume, but you were nothing if not sure of yourself. The bottle in your hand is brought up for another sip before you set it carelessly down on the floor, marching away from the scene.
It isn’t long before what you were looking for happens, a taller man stopping you in your tracks as you wander aimlessly around the party, avoiding finding auburn hair in the crowd. He smiles down at you, and you almost say finally out loud. One sway of your hip while you walked and they were on you like flies.
Men are too easy. Fun little tools for you to finally use with reason. Tonight’s reason being to distract yourself from a certain body pressed into some corner of this house. A little deeper your mind whispers it’s also to piss off that same someone, who you had no business bothering anymore.
The stench of weed is what you notice first about him, and then the blonde hair. Your nose almost crinkles when he smiles. Its too bright, too confident for how close he is to a girl he doesn’t even know.
Or maybe he does, saying your name as he greets you, “Haven't seen you at one of these in a while, where have you been?”
It takes everything in you to entertain the small talk, fingers toying around to find where you had hidden your lip gloss. Finding it in the waistband of your skirt, you eye him as you apply it with a hum. His eyes follow every movement. Like you said, easy.
“Yea.. I was really sick, What’s your name again?” You tilt your head, blinking curiously.
“Gabriel,” the blonde introduces himself, grinning again in a way you could never find charming. Not how you did with a freckled cheeked smirk.
“Right.. how have you been?” You play into the conversation, which seems to shock the smile right off Gabriel’s face. You were actually giving some frat boy the time of day? It probably would stun anyone around you, more so when you leaned forward and pressed a pretty finger on his arm, dragging it down to wipe at some blue liquid. “You had something there,” you explain, glancing up.
Gabriel seems all too worked up from the smallest touch, sending a wave of confidence through you. “I've been uh— been good. Started selling some bud a month or so back, get it from my dad’s friend..”
“Mhm..” you nod, tuning out his voice as someone walks behind him, auburn haired and laughing as she tugs the same brunette with her still. They find the couch that was nearby, still in your sightline as they sit. You swear you see her look over toward you and stay there for a second, but Gabriel’s voice is distracting you too much to tell.
When it comes back to the forefront of your mind, he was going on and on about selling weed, and you can’t help but think of Ellie again. She was never this annoying about it.
“You know, I give a pretty girl discount..” he says, stepping closer as a hand reaches out to play at the hem of your skirt. You have to fight the urge to slap it away, not wanting his probably dirty hands on the clean fabric. But the comment actually intrigued you, despite your pure hatred for the substance.
Maybe it was a way to subdue that ever growing anger, putting your lips to one of the two things you never wanted to. Your mind had fallen to this place last time you saw Ellie smoke, fogging over your previously bad experiences with weed. That curiosity was creeping up again, and the thought Ellie may see you with a joint in your mouth after shaming her daily for it, it made you a sick sort of excited. It was becoming useless to deny this whole.. scene wasn't about getting a rise out of Ellie, but you would still try as you say the next words.
“Yea? I’ve never really smoked actually, I'm kinda curious..” your voice drops a bit lower, flashing your pretty eyes up at Gabriel. Yea, that definitely was what this was about. Not about the way your throat tightens when you see Ellie throw her head back in a laugh behind Gabriel.
“And I’m kind of curious about this pretty skirt,” Gabriel says quietly, sending an uncomfortable tremble over your body. God, men had some fucking nerve. Still you play into it, leaning on your tippy toes to press your lips to the shell of his ear, ignoring the bile rising in your throat. You’re speaking to him, but your eyes are dead set on the couch behind you.
It isn't his hand settling on your waist that makes you jump, even if he would think that. No, it was the gaze that shifted up to you from the couch, hawkeyed on your lips that began to move against Gabriel’s ear.
“Maybe if give me that pretty girl discount and make it worthwhile— I can give you more interesting things to be curious about,” your breath hits Gabriel’s skin, and you like the way he shivers from it. Nothing else you like however, definitely not the words you pushed from your lips. The tequila made it easier, slipping weightless promises against the boy you would definitely never bother with again.
It works like a charm, your lips dripping with honey as you pull back, smiling while Gabriel scrambles through his pockets, pulling out a rather shitty looking joint. You weren’t exactly skilled on how they should look, but it sure isn’t this. The paper is crumpled slightly in places, building it uneven and a bit sad looking. You don't comment on this, and keep yourself from scoffing when his fingers reach forward to open your palm and place it there, the pads of his digits lingering a second too long.
“Try it and then come back and let me know if it was worthwhile,” Gabriel emphasizes your own words back at you, and your fingers curl around the joint. You couldn’t help but find him stupid for this, wondering how much of his inventory he had lost by girls playing a similar game. It would have been smarter to offer you smoke with him, but the blonde was far from that.
You manage one more brush against him before you send him a smile, turning around. “Will do, pretty boy.”
Your feet pad against the wood floor as you make a point to take the long route to your next destination, passing right by the couch. You can feel heat crawl up the nape of your neck, a strong set of eyes on your every move as you pass by. Purposely you ignore the burn, the refusal to give in to the pull it made you feel.
You swoop around the edge of the room, searching around until you find the head of black hair, bopping around to the song currently blasting on the speakers. You step over wrappers and poorly discarded cups as you trudge closer, unfortunately, to the middle of the crowd. The joint is still tightly tucked in your palm, which allows no space to wipe the grime you can feel building on your body from the shared heat the group was forming.
“Dina,” you call out, making her turn away from who was pressing against her. It takes you a moment to realize it was Jesse, his face bright red from the drinking and dancing. You greet him with an awkward smile before moving close enough to Dina that you can whisper in her ear.
“Do you have a lighter?”
“What?” Dina shouts, ringing your eardrums. You scowl at her, causing a sheepish smile to bloom on her face.
“A lighter,” you repeated, Dina’s eyes shining when she understands.
“Oh! Yea,” her hand leaves its place on Jesse, rummaging through the pockets of the pants she was wearing, pulling out a mini red lighter. “Here babe,” she grins, and you want to kiss her cute cheeks for not asking anymore questions.
You swipe the object with your free hand, saying something about seeing her later before pushing quickly out of the pile of college students, back to the comfort of the edges of the too small room.
Your legs push you forward, huffing at the gross feeling lingering on your clothes as you find the sliding door again. You push away the drink table to get through, pulling it closed behind you.
The cool night air wraps around your skin, and you can finally fucking breathe out. It felt like your chest had been building up one big heave all night, only able to escape the moment the cold breeze met your lungs. It pushes into the darkness in front of you, the only light that of the colors that bled outside from the glass door, flashing every now and again. A small flickering tan bulb sits to the side of the door, but that barely lights more than the color of your shirt when you sit directly under it. You stumble slightly, the liquor in you having more of an effect than you would like to admit.
No one else was out here yet, the party still building up in stamina, no one but you willing to tear away from it for fresh air. You pull your skirt under you, regretting it instantly when you shift against the concrete stair. You could practically feel the threads ripping. That was the smallest thing on your mind however, instead opening your palm to show the tiny joint.
Honestly, you hadn’t a clue what to do as you raised it between your thumb and forefinger, feeling it. Your free hand fiddles with Dina’s lighter, sparking it.
You swipe through film reels in your mind to try and remember the proper way to light it, and every single option has Ellie’s face. Any semblance of an idea you could find regarding this type of thing would always include a memory of Ellie. Ellie at some party, spitting remarks at you as your eyes trace the way she holds whatever smoke she has between her lips. Ellie handed a neatly sealed bag to some student, fingers flipping through the cash she received for it. Ellie showing someone how to smoke for the first time.
Ellie, Ellie, Ellie. A strange lump rises in your throat to know she isn’t the one actually here to help you with this, but you swallow it down as you dip your mind back into each red coated memory, pausing on one in particular, a clearer study of Ellie’s fingers slightly twirling a joint as she lit it, looking to get an even burn.
You follow memory Ellie’s actions, and sigh when a red ring wraps around the tip of the joint. You debate for a long second before bringing it to your mouth, sucking in. It felt wrong to do, completely alien as your gloss sticks slightly to the tip. The long pull you take draws a large cough from you as you lean forward and pull the paper from your mouth, throat burning.
If anyone else was around you would be embarrassed, your usually steady demeanor totally falling down as you shake slightly from the tipsiness and bad hit you just took.
Your throat aches, but you much prefer that burn to the one that sat heavily in your chest all day. The rising level of dazedness continues as the tequila works its way though your system, now accompanied by the baby hits you continue to take from your burning joint.
You can’t be sure it's even doing anything, the quick intake and push out of the smoke you have going on. If someone was here to teach you, maybe it wouldn't be burning to ash faster than the hits you were taking.
Your eyes fall in front of you, at the almost pitch black backyard, thrumming with the sounds of crickets and leaves. It’s more comfortable than the base you can feel pounding against the door. Tilting your head up, you let your dizzy eyes focus on the stars, tracing constellations you could find. Sometimes something like this could be your only source of peace.
Your hand raises, covering the light with your pinky, watching the way it still spills out from the sides. A particular patch draws too much similarity to the freckles that coat Ellie under eye, something you would much rather trace with your finger. The moment of peace dies.
Your hand drops at your mind’s tricks, unable to go even a moment without some vision of her clouding your actions. The awful games your conscious plays on you continues with the scraping sound of the sliding door, a voice too similar to Ellie’s asking “You out here alone?”
It sounds like her, but you assume you misheard. Waving one of your hands back in a ‘fuck off’ motion to whoever it may be. It happened to be the hand holding your joint, causing a bit of ash to fall against your hand with the rough movement. “Ouch,” you pout to yourself, assuming the stranger would turn on their heel and leave, as they usually do.
The motion only pushes this person on though, slamming the door closed, feet padding on the concrete.
You turn, ready to berate whoever was ruining your alone time, but it really is Ellie. Her shirt is slightly hanging off to one side, hair pressed behind her ears. Its the closest look you’ve gotten so far tonight, and the devil on your tipsy shoulder says you should tell her pretty face to fuck off.
You don’t, made completely wordless as she leans down over you. Ellie rips the joint from your fingers, inspecting the flimsy paper and wet with gloss tip. You had only gotten a third of the way through, apparently. You blink quickly as she steps to you.
“You're smoking, and it's not even my weed,” the taller snickered, letting the still burning joint ash off onto the cement while she towers over you. You want to slap her, demand she gives you back your shit and leave you alone like she had claimed to be doing from now on. Instead you just start talking.
“How’d you know it was me?” You ask, eyeing the auburnette as she fiddles with the object between her fingers.
“No one but you would wear a fucking bow in their hair like that to a sleazy frat party.”
Scoffing, you hold your palm out so she can hand back the joint. She refuses, not even paying mind to your motion. It makes you bite down on your lip to keep from swearing.
“His bud fucking sucks by the way, thats why no one buys from him. And he can’t roll for shit,” she flicks her wrist to enhance the words, the uneven and poorly packed joint acting as something to follow with your eyes.
Ellie continues babbling, like this was some normal conversation between friends, “He charges way too much for a fucking eighth of his basically brown, dry shit. I’m sure your throat hurts from it right now, hm?”
“Ellie,” you interrupt, pushed on by the liquor dripping down your stomach. “Why are you out here?”
Ellie’s jumble of words stop, the joint completely out now as it stays clenched between the long fingers.
“I was coming out to smoke,” she shrugged, “I knew the stars were gonna look nice tonight and it was getting too busy in there to sit on the couch. Didn’t exactly expect to find ms perfect had already claimed the smoke spot.”
Ellie mentioning the stars you had just been staring up at makes you swallow into your dry throat, trying not to allow your mind to wander to the questions about Ellie’s apparent knowledge.. or at least like, of the night sky.
You don’t meet her eyes, “don’t you have a girl to entertain?” it's leaking with obvious jealousy when you say it, slightly slurred by your glossy lips.
Ellie dances around your comment, ignoring your attitude. “Are you drunk right now?”
“Are you drunk right now?” you retort, a voice unlike your own— one shrillier and more childish, mocking her. You say it before you can stop yourself, immediately embarrassed by the comment.
You really need to stop drinking tequila, and being around Ellie, seemingly the only two things that can make you this immature and impulsive.
So impulsive that when Ellie throws your joint out into the grass somewhere and takes a seat next to you, you don't immediately stand and hit her. You just keep on pestering.
“Seriously, I thought you,” you raise your digits to make air quotes , “weren't entertaining my game anymore,” your hands wave as you do a very bad Ellie impression, lowering your voice to repeat the words drilled into your mind this morning. Ones that had played in your head like a tune you couldn’t get out, a recording pressed to restart over and over. You treated it like a joke, a taunt.
“I’m not. Just sitting to have a smoke..you just happen to be here,” Ellie muttered, looking at the tree line instead of you.
“Go smoke with that brunette,” you reply in a clipped tone, no longer able to bite back the overflow of bitter comments about the pretty girl who had been longing all over Ellie inside. Ellie doesn’t ignore it this time, hitting back with her own jab.
“Go be a slut with Gabriel for a joint again.”
Your face turns red, ears ringing as she admits she was watching on to your little show with the blonde man. The liquid in your stomach threatens to cause a spree of mean responses at her comment despite this, offended by the harsh words as much as they warmed you. But you only manage, “Fuck you. Maybe I will, you just threw mine out.”
Ellie shakes her head, almost looking regretful for the comment. She pulls out one of her own pre rolls from a little tin in her pocket, the one she always carries. You could never make out the design on it before, always having been much further away when she pulled it out previous to now. It has sharpie drawings all over it, which you assume she does it herself, but she's tucking it back away before you get a look.
This one was much more even and tightly packed of course, no sign it had been pressed together by nervous hands. Ellie hadn’t lied in her ramblings, but that only annoyed you more.
“If you’re gonna smoke, smoke my shit.”
You glance at her for a moment, at the outstretched fingers leaning toward you.
“I don’t even think I did it right,” you admit quietly. It hangs in the trees for a moment, blowing with the twigs that hang from them. It’s a small nudge, an agreement to for at least for a moment ignore the way Ellie was purposefully ignoring every question you asked. Ignoring this morning. “I don’t feel anything but tipsy, nothin like what people say it feels like.”
Maybe weed just didn’t work on you, someone cursed to always be so uptight. Or maybe you just were shit at smoking.
“Well it’s not gonna feel the same when you’re already drunk,” Ellie scoots a bit closer, just barely brushing your arm as she lights the tip of the paper, watching the even burn follow.
“Gettin’ crossfaded feels different from just being high. You might not like it.”
It's too embarrassing to ask what crossfaded means, but you use the context of the situation to assume it has something to do with drinking and smoking at the same time. “Still wanna try,” your eyes land again on the pre roll, knees turning to face in toward El, jean clad legs bumping against your own bare ones.
“Don't be so needy,” Ellie mumbled as the joint is pulled just slightly between her lips, taking in a much larger breath than you had ever done.
The word makes your legs shift, warm and searching to rid the slight pulse it caused. Ellie’s eyes immediately glance down to them, noticing the reaction even more than yourself. She doesn’t comment on it.
She takes one more hit before passing it to you, steadily slotting it between your thumb and pointer finger.
“Wipe your gloss off,” she instructs, making you look at her curiously. “You don't want to make this part wet, and only put your lips on it a bit.”
You follow her directions a little too well, free thumb wiping across your lips, a blaze of green following the motion intently. Then the joint is placed, this time more gently, between your lips.
“Good,” Ellie nods, making you shiver slightly. The word wraps around your throat, squeezing like fingers, dizzying your head more than this smoke ever could. You internally slap yourself, screaming to get a grip, to stop this flood of feeling again.
“Now take a breath in, a big one, but if your throat starts to sting even a little, blow out right away, don't try and finish the hit. It’ll make the cough worse.”
The step by step instructions help just as you had imagined it would, a much smoother drag happening following Ellie’s words. She watches on carefully, and from the corner of your eye you can see her swallow at the same time the smoke pushes past your lips, out into the backyard air.
“Take another,” Ellie adds after a beat of silence, and you doubt this one is for your own sake. You listen like a dog being bribed with a bone, your version of treat being Ellie’s attention fixated solely on you. With another pull, your head tilts back and up to the stars again, copying a move you had seen Ellie do at countless parties as you blow out.
The joint is pulled from your grip before your chin even tilts back down. Ellie’s gaze is set straight ahead again as she takes a few puffs of her own, jaw much tighter than before.
You can't help but ask a little slower, “Did I do good?”
The game Ellie vowed to take an axe to was starting up again, pushing the line between you two again, like you had any right to do so. Like your scissors had any right to cut the string threaded between the two of you. But it was already fraying, blade taken to it one too many times.
Ellie does her best to knot it back together, “You did,” falling from her muffled lips stiffly. But her metaphorical hands are shaking, unable to tie that knot as your eyes glance at her hand that’s near her mouth.
“You did good,” she repeats, smoke puffing out with her words.
You nod, settling for this as an answer as you tear away from watching her smoke, staring up to continue finding pictures in the sky.
A few moments pass, building the thick fog of tension between you as the feeling finally hit. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut, the whole damn planet spinning for a second before it settles into a more liveable feeling.
It's the first time your body doesn’t feel heavy, first time you aren’t acutely aware of your skirt dirtying beneath you, hairs falling from the white colored bow. For once you don’t give a fuck what you may look like— though the crossed feeling may not be the only component to this, the person sitting next to you also seeming to lull you into an unusual allowance to let go.
“How does it feel?” Ellie questions, you can feel her hot breath on you now, her face turned to face your cheek, watching your chest move slowly.
It takes a moment to find your voice, a little embarrassingly too far gone from such a small amount of hits, though you guess mixing this with the tequila was probably more likely the cause. “good,” you lick your dry lips.. frowning slightly when not met with the usual wet gloss. You don't mind too much right now, instead set on answering Ellie’s question.
You aren’t even sure how to describe the feeling, words not being able to mesh together correctly to find a proper explanation, only able to ask, “I wanna take another,” head nodding toward her.
You turn your head, still tilted back slightly as you raise your fingers to take the joint. Before you can, it’s already against your lips. Ellie is holding the joint for you, and that string that laid between you two has fallen completely to your feet. The game back on.
You catch her eyes as you take a breath in, her pupils blown wide and slightly red, just as high looking as your own.
You aren’t sure what pushes you to make your next move, maybe the weed, maybe how pretty Ellie looked when she pulled the joint away from you, lip trembling gently with a breath. Whatever it is, it pushes you forward, pressing against her lips.
Her lips part slightly immediately, opening up as the smoke from your hit pools out between the kiss, hot enough to burn your eyes that quickly close. Her tongue swipes over your bottom lip, wetting it a bit more before pressing into a deeper kiss again. You aren’t sure where her joint has gone, but soon both hands are free and on your cheeks, pressing into the fat there, forcing you to stay connected as lomg as she deemed.
By the time she lets you pull back from the now sloppy kiss, drool pulls at the corner of your mouth, and you’re wheezing for a breath. But you still chase her lips, only pushing her further back.
“We have to stop doing this,” Ellie whispers against your neck as her hands move to grip under your thighs, lifting you up to her lap, your eyes meeting the glass door— reminding you again that if anyone looked a little too closely they would see you. You blink hard, not making out any bodies near the table.
It takes another second for you to recall Ellie’s words, “doing what?” you ask, a little more breathy as Ellie’s lips find your jaw.
“Fucking instead of talking. Never ends well,” Ellie says, still continuing her trail of wet kisses, pausing to wipe away the makeup covering your hickies. She doesn’t bite over them this time, instead just lazily pressing soft lips over all of the half covered bruises.
“Third times a charm?” You try, eyes deadset still on the flashing colors of the door.
Ellie’s hand falls down your chest, pushing up under your shirt to find your boobs, kneading the fleshy fat, tweaking your nipples a little too meanly, sending a wave straight down to your lower belly. You whine, mouth falling open with a small series of gasps.
“What’re you looking at? Look at me,” Ellie whispers against the ear closest to her cheek, words willing your head to not fall against her neck, instead pulling back to look at her, grumbling when her hand falls from its place in your shirt.
You knew how she played by now, sensing her next movements before she can even play them, so you don’t dare ignore her question. “The door.. was making sure-” head spinning deliciously when her cold hand pressed under your skirt, pushing your panties to the side, swiping the pad of two fingers over your weepy slit, “making sure no one was looking.” you finish.
Her hand appears again from under your skirt, a devilish grin pulling at the features of her face you can barely see. “Doesn’t really seem like you give a fuck if someone sees,” Ellie chides, the fingers popping into her mouth, you see her cheeks indent slightly as she licks your wetness from her fingers, replacing it with that from her own tongue when the digits fall back out of her lips, and back down to its original spot, sliding over your cunt again.
“Maybe that's what you need,” Ellie begins, tracing you by only dipping the finger in very slightly, feeling the throbbing muscle. You know where this is going, you can already taste the degrading words about to come on your tongue, and you happily will lap at whatever insult she has coming. Your head is dizzy enough already, limbs slow moving as they grasp at her shoulders, trying to grind yourself down into it.
“Maybe you need to get caught,” Ellie hums as one finger finally bottoms out in you, a sweet whine drawn from you at the sensation. “Maybe that’ll get you to stop acting like such a bitch about sleeping with me..if its all out in the open,” she emphasizes the words with a slow thrust, the wet sound echoing in the air, the thumping beat from inside the house behind you falling as a backdrop to the much louder sopping wet sounds.
“You want that, princess? Want someone to find me fucking you open on my fingers? Maybe that asshole you talked to? Bet he’d love to see my girl bouncing on these fingers.” Ellie continues, a possessive tilt to her voice. You have half a mind to bring up the brunette she was with, but then she’s pressing another finger into the mix and scissoring them inside you ever so lightly, exploring the walls that squeeze around the long digits. The pet name falls so easily from her lips that it takes you back to before this morning, when everything was just slightly less messy.
“Fuck,” you whine, forehead falling against her’s, willing yourself to hope that the drink table in front of the door covers you enough, that if someone passing by looked all they would see was two shadows likely kissing. The shaky logic just made it even more exhilarating, grinding down on her fingers. “No, I don't- don’t wanna get caught,” you whimper, but make no effort to stop the movements.
Ellie’s breath mixes with your own as you keep yourself close, chin tilting in to speak directly against your lips, “too dark for anyone to see..” she assures, easing your mind slightly, “unless they look a bit too hard,” Ellie murmured, then pressing forward to kiss you again, which you graciously accepted.
Her fingers move in and out at an excruciatingly slow pace, playing with you before speeding up gently when you cry out at the curl of her fingers. “El, more— please,” you ask against her lips, words swallowed by her greedy mouth, kissing you again with swollen lips.
“Askin so nicely,” Ellie praised, rewarding you with a quickening pace, sucking a large gulp of air into your lungs. Your head swirls above your body, too overwhelmed by all of the mixing sensations to continue the kiss, just breathing into her mouth, nose brushing against hers. For being in such an open place, it feels rather intimate and soft, directly opposite to the words that spew on from Ellie’s always moving lips.
“You wanna come? Wanna soak my fingers for me? Right here where anyone could walk out?” Ellie cooed the words, taunting you again with the one thing you feared. It doesn’t matter anymore, the tangles in your belly making it useless to fight her words. You nod dumbly, any speaking choked in your throat.
“Words, baby..” Ellie chatisizes, slowing her fingers. The loss of friction has you babbling quickly, whiny sounding and completely out of it, “No, el please keep going. I w‘na come, please let me come,” you beg against her, loud enough for her but a whisper to the rest of the world.
Ellie makes a noise of approval from your rambling, quickening her pace again, this time rougher, tips of her fingers always hitting that spot that makes your knees buckle and hips buck. The high that's settling over you like a fog only makes it feel even better, each touch of her other hand against your skin has you trembling, feeling like a thousand little satellites lighting across your body. Your head falls, watching the leaf ink of her arm move back and forth with each push of her fingers, your folds drooling around her fingers. Her thumb come to circle your clit— which has you trying to slap her hand away at the burning feeling, almost too much.
Ellie’s free hand dances up you, fingers finding home on your neck, squeezing enough to make you look up, forced to meet Ellie’s searching eyes. “You can take it, keep looking at me,” she breathes, squeezing her hand enough to make you sputter, eyes burning. It pushes the lightheaded daze you're in further, even stronger now as you feel yourself clenching around her, a new wave of wetness following each slick sounding plunge into you.
You follow the order, blurry eyes focused directly on hers, pulling your heart in five different ways as you blink quickly, tears clinging to your lashes as the squeeze on your throat continues. Ellie is looking at you like you are the only thing she’s ever seen, enamored by your parted mouth, sticky strings of spit connecting your lips, by your flushed cheeks and teary eyes. She’s looking at you like you are the stars above her head, and thats what sends you tumbling into your orgasm, that look.
It comes with a loud cry, struggling to bubble through your tightly gripped throat, searching for another gulp of air as you shake in her lap. It's the most intense orgasm you think you may have ever felt, ten times stronger due to the connecting details that lead to it. The high, the fear of being caught, her hand, that look, it all makes the feeling even fucking better, and you can feel how much you’ve soaked her hand when she pulls out. You feel out of your body, like you have been released from your skin and instead into the air, ready to float up to the stars. The only thing that holds you here is Ellie’s soft voice against your hiccuping cheek.
“Gotta breathe baby, you did so good for me,” Ellie kisses your cheek, and you can feel her messily wiping her fingers against your thigh, something you would have complained about if you were any more in charge of your brain at the moment.
The next set of breaths come a bit slower, finding place in your body again as you come back down, closing your eyes and slumping into Ellie. Your eyes flick to the door, happy to see no one there, and no one nearby.
You both sit in silence for a moment, not sure what to do next. Ellie dashes any hopes of a quiet and easy end to this hookup with her next words.
“Let me take you on a date,” Ellie says quietly, tone out of that harsh one and back into a much softer one. It's totally at the wrong time. But nothing you two did was ever timed right.
“Fuck off,” you reply immediately, making her pinch your hip. “I mean it you asshole,” Ellie grumbled, refusing to meet your eyes. That was fine by you, as your heart hammered so hard against your ribs you were convinced it may jump out if she looked at you while saying this.
“Are you seriously asking me that right now?” you rasp, throat dry and quiet as you respond to the ridiculous situation, still riding out the aftershocks.
“Yea,” Ellie nods, “Been wanting to ask from that first fucking party, always played into your fights cause it meant i got your attention, picked on you so I could—” Ellie babbles, burning your cheeks a bright red. You search for a way out of the conversation, a way to avoid the festering emotions it brings. But you can’t, not anymore. The words are too real, no longer tiptoeing around the truth like you two loved to do. Too much to push off without completely breaking what was going on here.
“Stop,” you beg, making Ellie stiffen slightly. “Stop embarrassing yourself, I’ll go on a date with you,” you finish, reveling in the way Ellie relaxes. It takes a lot to say, ripping away all semblance of control you felt over the situation. You were finally giving in to your own feelings, to Ellie’s.
“Who knew all I had to do was ask you after an orgasm?” Ellie jokes, again with the awful timing. You shove her half heartedly, shuffling your panties back into place as you clamber off her lap, movement stumbly as you settle next to her, thighs still shaking.
“Stop talking,” you mutter, rubbing a hand over your eyes, still feeling high. Ellie grins beside you, looking like she had just won a prize despite your targeted words. It tugs at your heart again, descending it into the pit of your stomach, where it rolls around and sends an uncontrollable giggle past your lips. It feels wrong coming from you, and you press your fingers to your lips to stop any more.
“You-“ Ellie starts, but you make a quick noise to stop her calling you out on the giggle.
“If you stop talking I’ll walk out the party together with you,” you hold out your finger to stop her words. Ellie seems to be a talkative high tonight, much to your own disadvantage. It hurts your cheeks and chest from how hard all her words made them pull.
Ellie hums, eyes narrowing slightly. It was a big enough step for the both of you. Not a promise of anything serious, but your own way of an apology for all the sneaking around, all the fights and bitchy moves you have pulled these last weeks. It’s a promise to at least give it a shot.
Ellie makes the same promise as she stares at you and nods, “Deal.”
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