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lovelettersfromluna · 7 months

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⋆｡˚☾ Silver Springs☽˚｡⋆

Summary: A step by step guide on how not to get over Ellie fucking Williams

an: AHHHH!! Here it is you guys! I wanna start off by thanking every single one of you for all the support not only did the first part of this series receive, but how much support my return received! I missed you all so so much and I’m so happy you’re enjoying this series just as much as I am enjoying writing it! I had some trouble tagging a few if you guys, as it wasn’t allowing your users to show up, so I really do apologize about that :( if any of you would like to dm me so we can solve it, feel free! I hope you all enjoy the second part to this series, and so much more is in store for this one! So stick around 🖤🖤🖤

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+, MDNI, Alcohol and Marijuana usage, jealous!Ellie, slight asshole!Ellie, cheating, oral r!receiving, edging, fingering r!receiving, pet names, kissing, let me know if I missed anything!!

You can read part 1, here!

Tag list: @eveshyper @mattm1964 @teawithnosugar @macaroni676 @ximtiredx @gold-dustwomxn @mina-281 @aethelwyneleigh27 @abbysmainbitch @lil-elliesgf @franreadss @fairyysoiree @r3wbeef @liizzygrant @elliewilliamsgf69 @mabelle-cherie @cauliflowerpatch @forelliesposts @lunasolac @nil-eena @pillowprincessleia @pedropascalsbbg @ellieswifeyy @lesbiantothemoonandback @dummysimp011 @miniaturebananadefendor @sweetpumpkins @thesmutconnoisseur @miksde @delicategirlie

Ellie had always been possessive.

Over anything, really. Over her father, or her favorite forest green hoodie, or the bracelets you two made for each other when you were both in middle school. If it was hers in any way, there was a pretty good chance that she’d be possessive over it.

She was also, very possessive over you.

You never really noticed, mainly because she’s usually extremely discreet about it. Often time, it’ll go unnoticed by those around her, because Ellie knows not to make a scene over someone tugging you along to ride home with them after a party, or to have you stay in their bed instead of hers. And she only does it because you’re her best friend, not theirs. They shouldn’t be trying to take you anyways.

Yeah. That was the only reason.

So the shock you felt when she acted the way she did in front of Alex was something you’d never really seen before. Sure, your best friend had a temper. You couldn’t count on your hands how many times you had to talk down a very drunk Ellie from fighting some idiot jock because they told her she couldn’t beat them at arm wrestling, but that was stupid party banter. What happened at the beginning of class? That was just unwarranted.

And as much as you hoped it was simply Ellie being in a mood that morning, that wasn’t the end of it.

After that day in class, you and Alex grew nearly inseparable. You showed her around to all of her classes, she followed you to the library to study, and to the cafe to have lunch, she even ended up coming back to your apartment to play video games one night when your study session ran past the opening hours of the campus library. Days had gone by, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, Alex had almost fully taken Ellie’s spot as your best friend.

But then again, Sofia took your spot too.

That was another thing, what used to be like pulling teeth to see your best friend after she had gotten herself a girlfriend, had suddenly taken a drastic change.

After the first initial situation with Alex, Ellie was suddenly almost always in the picture.

It first started with the text messages. When Ellie first started dating Sofia, there were only a few messages here and there, a few stupid tiktoks sent between one another, and the less than frequent plans that you’d try to make with each other that would almost always be cancelled due to last minute plans Ellie ended up making with Sofia.

Now? Now Ellie would text you all the time. She’d send you video after video telling you what kind of cat you were, or which season you were, and she’d make sure to never miss out on sending you pictures of her homework, asking you if it looked good enough to submit, and she was constantly trying to make more plans with you. It was just like how things were before Sofia, back when it was just you, and Ellie, and the little traditions that you and her had every weekend.

Only it wasn't just like those times...now she was...so much more.

It made things a bit awkward when you were studying with Alex one afternoon, the silence of you and her falling comfortably between the both of you as you simply scribbled notes in your books, enjoying each others company, when suddenly your phone went off. It was a message from Ellie.

Waddup dorrrrk

U busy tonight?

You frown softly as you look up from your phone, catching a glimpse of Alex's face as she types away at her computer before you looked back down at your phone, typing out a response to Ellie.

Yeah

prob gonna head home after this and sleep

wya?

library

lemme come pick you up then

no thats okay. Im with Alex

You stare down at your phone as you await a response from Ellie. you see her little chat bubble pop up, stay for a moment, and then disappear. It does this for a minute or two, and you know she's struggling to find the right words to say. She always does this whenever she doesn't know exactly what to respond with

u know Alex is a prick right?

what makes you say that?

she just is

mmm

good to know

ditch her for me

im not gonna do that

where's Sof?

at her dorm

cool

well I'll catch you later Ellie

Ellie never responded after that

and thats how things were for the most part. You would spend your time with Alex, and Ellie would try her best to intervene between that time that you spent with her. Whether it was swooping in and trying to pull you away from Alex while you were walking together, or blowing up your phone whenever she knew you were together, she’d make herself known.

And you still had that damn party to go to that following weekend

You let out a soft sigh as you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your hands came up, smoothing down the clothes that you had on. The strapless black top you wore hugged your middle perfectly, a contrast to the usual baggy, comfy clothes you wore, and the denim jeans hung low on your hip, hugging your curves perfectly. Your hair was styled, and your makeup was done, but you couldn’t help but pout softly at yourself, turning around and eyeing yourself in the mirror, shaking out your hair, pursing your lips together before releasing them.

God….you really didn’t wanna go to this party.

And you were very close to cancelling. You already had your excuse thought up too, you were going to text Ellie and tell her that you had come down with a cold, and that you couldn’t make it out tonight, that you’d catch her and Sofia at the next one.

But she was already pulling you aside after class to make sure you were going.

You were walking out of your last class for the day, the idea of the party on your mind the entire afternoon. You didn’t want to deal with Ellie, as bad as that sounded. She had been so weird ever since you and Alex became friends, and it bothered you how clingy she had suddenly become now that your time was suddenly taken up by someone else.

She was being possessive, and childish, and it wasn’t your job to make her feel better about you having other friends or apologizing for the fact that you were finally moving on-

“Hey! Hey wait up!” The familiar voice called out from behind you, and it almost made you wince. Ellie’s footsteps grew closer and closer as she ran behind you to catch up. You almost wanted to put your headphones on, a silent gesture that you didn’t want to deal with any of Ellie’s antics in that moment.

But she was still your best friend

You gave a tired smile once she finally catches up with you, and you can see the way her eyes twinkle the second she’s looking down at you. You figure it’s because she’s catching you on a rare moment when you’re not with Alex.

“There you are…” She mumbles softly, and you’re sure that if you weren’t so annoyed with her recent behavior, you’d be swooning over how fucking good she looked. Despite the fall weather, it was a bit warmer that day, so she opted for a loose fitted white t shirt, her signature baggy blue jeans, and of course her favorite rings. Her brown hair was tucked into a loose bun, and she wore a backwards faded maroon colored baseball cap.

Once again, Ellie Williams was a fucking dream.

“Here I am…” you mumble awkwardly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear before you watch her, prompting her to get out whatever it was that she needed to talk about. Instead, she simply stares for a bit, seemingly taking in your appearance for a moment before she hums softly.

“No Alex today?” She questions, looking around to see if she just missed her. You could hear that tone in her voice, the one that was hopeful for a specific answer from you. You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head as you push past the doors of the building that lead to the campus courtyard. “She left early to run some errands” you explain, a soft frown on your face as you catch the familiar smug smirk of triumph on your best friends lips.

“You know she isn’t that bad, right? I think you two would get along…you have a lot in common” you tried, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you looked up at Ellie.

It was true, Ellie and Alex were extremely similar. In the time that you’d been spending with Alex, there were frequent moments where you felt like you were with Ellie. Certain things she said or did, or the type of jokes she’d make, or the music she listened to. Hell, they even dressed similarly, you were sure that if they gave each other a shot, they’d become just as close, if not closer than you were with either of them.

Or should you rather say, if Ellie gave her a chance.

Your words make Ellie scoff, the girls veiny hands shoving into her pockets as she strolled along with you. “Get along? Yeah fuckin right…I’d rather drag my bare ass along the concrete than hang out with that moron” she huffed out, her words making you scrunch your nose in disgust at the vivid picture she was painting for you, meant to express her distaste for the girl.

“But why? You really don’t have any reason to hate her, Els…because she sat in your seat? You don’t even sit there anymore…” you mumbled the last part of your comment under your breath, your eyes trailing down towards your feet as you frown softly, thinking back to the times before Alex showed up. How lonely it was sitting alone, walking to and from classes by yourself, spending the weekends cooped up in your home with nothing to do, no one to talk to.

Ellie frowned with you, her own green eyes zeroing in on the ground similarly to the way you did as she found herself deep in thought. It confused her too, why it bothered her so much. When you’d ask, her excuse was that she just felt Alex was bad news, and that she didn’t want anyone taking advantage of you or ruining your friendship with her.

That was always her excuse.

She inhaled deeply, replacing her frown with a bright smile, almost as if she were trying to distract you from your question before she changed the subject entirely. “Do you know what you’re gonna wear tomorrow? I heard this parties gonna be fuckin dope” she breathed out, turning towards you and flashing her pearly whites.

It almost gives you whiplash. She’d done it before, completely disregarded your attempts at trying to figure out why exactly she hated Alex so much, wanting more of a reason beside Ellie’s ‘bad feeling’ about the girl. It made you feel even more confused and frustrated with her and how she was acting towards you.

But every time she flashed those pretty teeth your way, it was like your mind went blank.

You blinked a few times as you stared up at her, clearing your throat before your mouth started moving before your brain could properly form a the sentence you wanted to say. Which was something along the lines of ‘im not feeling well! I’ll probably skip this one’

But that isn’t what leaves past your lips.

“I’m uh…not sure yet. I guess you’ll see once I’m there” you breath out softly, followed by a soft chuckle that sounds similar to a sound of defeat, because that’s exactly what’s happened, you’ve been defeated. Ellie has once again wiggled her way into that little soft spot she knew she had for you, and managed to have her way with you, no matter how annoyed you were with her.

Ellie beams the second she heard your words, nodding as she gives you a nudge with her elbow. “That’s why I like to hear! Hey, I’ll text you, okay? Keep you updated on what’s happening” she promises, giving you a nod. Before you can respond, her phone vibrated in her back pocket, to which she pulled out to check it, and you already know who it is. It rips you away from the little interaction you’re having with her, and it makes you sigh softly as you give Ellie a soft nod. “I’ll see you there, Els” you promise, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before you began walking ahead of her.

“I’m pretty tired so…I’ll head home” you nod, not giving her anymore room to stick around and tell you how she can’t stay with you any longer because she has to meet Sofia somewhere. That hurts much more than whatever the hell it was that was happening between you and her within that moment. She watched you, opening her mouth to stop you from leaving but you were already giving her a small wave, paired with a soft smile as you began making your way home.

And that was that. You went home and spent the rest of the day hating the fact that you had said yes to Ellie. You hated that she still had this weird power over you to get whatever she wanted whenever she wanted it.

It’s how you found yourself staring blankly at yourself in the mirror, feeling ridiculous in your outfit, unable to even recognize yourself, and feeling even more ridiculous for going to the stupid party in the first place.

On your bed, you hear your phone buzz, and you already know who it is. You let out a soft huff, grabbing the platform sandals you had settled next to you in the mirror and sitting on your bed to put them on. You open up your messages to read through them while you do so.

yooooo

What time u want us to pick you up?

The messages make you frown, and for a minute your eyes trail towards the bubble at the very top of your phone, the one that has a silly picture of Ellie that you had taken of her when she was high out of her mind and babbling about something that was too incoherent to understand. Once you’ve put your shoes on, you grab the phone and begin typing out a message back to her.

sup

you guys head out without me, I’ll meet you there

huh?

I stg if ur flaking on me

I’m not

I’ll be there relax

ok who’s bringing you then?

The text makes you frown further, because you can practically hear the tone of accusatory thick within Ellie’s words from the text alone, and it pisses you off. Because why the hell would she be prying on who’s taking you to the party? And why does it even matter in the first place?

You sigh softly, eyeing the text for a few more moments before you stand up off the bed, shove your phone into your back pocket and leave your room to head out into your kitchen.

Once you’re there, you open up one of the highest cupboards, you’re glad that your sandals are platforms, because if they weren’t, you wouldn’t be able to reach the single bottle of tequila that sits at the very top of the cupboard. You huff in annoyance, because you can vividly recall the night you and Ellie bought the bottle. She was complaining about your lack of provisions, to which prompted the both of you to make a late night run to the liquor store to buy it. The only contents from the bottle that was missing was from that of which came from nights that you and Ellie wanted to let loose a bit, other than that, you never touched it. And with Ellie being Ellie, she made sure to tuck the bottle away at the very top of your cupboard with ease, where she knew you’d struggle to reach it, just so she could piss you off a bit.

Funny, Ellie seemed to always have a way of pissing you off.

When you finally managed to take the bottle down from the cupboard, you grabbed one of the only two shot glasses that you had in your house, the other belonging to Ellie, and you poured some of the clear liquid out for yourself.

Because lord knows with how this night was already going, you were going to fucking need it.

You threw it back, wincing as the vile liquid burned down your throat, making its presence in your body known as it traveled down into your stomach, settling in and making it feel as though a match was thrown into your body. Instantly, it was already making you feel looser, less tense, the worries you had about the party were still very much there, but they didn't seem to matter as much.

And when you heard the knock on your door, you knew your date was there to pick you up.

Did you end up inviting Alex to be your plus one to the party that Ellie invited you to? Yes.

Did this somehow morph into a date between you and Alex? Yes.

Did you know what you were getting yourself into by inviting Alex, knowing how much worse this would make things with Ellie? Sort of, but you couldn't really find it in you to care in that moment.

Not when Alex was showering you in compliments the second you opened the door for her. Not when Alex looked amazing in her outfit, and smelled even better, making you swoon for her the second she was wrapping her strong arms around your waist and guiding her out to your car. And definitely not when Alex's hand on your thigh on the way there was making your little heart flutter and dance, thanking the heavens above for granting you such a pretty girl to take along to this party with, and hopefully make it so that it wouldn't have the bitter ending of you sulking home while Ellie and Sofia made out in a random room, making it so that you were forced to catch the bus home.

Yeah, there was no way in hell you were letting Ellie ruin this for you.

It wasn't long until you both arrived at the house where the party was being held. Had it been any other day, the sight of drunk college kids, loud music, and the smell of beer and weed would have made you scrunch up your nose in disgust and walk back to your cozy little apartment, to make a warm cup of tea and cuddle up in your bed. But you were tipsy, you felt really fucking hot, and the longer Alex had her hands on you, the needier you felt.

It was time you finally give into the cliche world of being a college student, and lived a little. Because if not now, then when?

Alex had her hand slung loosely around your hips, her strong fingers slipped into your belt loop as she kept you close, toying with the soft sliver of skin that peeked out between the waist band of your jeans, and the bottom of your top. Upon walking into the house, you were glad to see that it wasn't a huge frat party. It was a bit more laid back, with the majority of the party goers splayed out within the living room, already having drunk or high conversations. Or they were in the kitchen, making drinks, or some even opted to head outside in the front yard or the back, the cold autumn air acting as an escape from the warmth that emitted from inside the house.

You feel glad that you don't spot Ellie and Sofia as soon as you walk in, knowing that, that was a confrontation that you were not drunk enough to face. You hum softly as Alex leans into you, your hand slipping down between the both of you as you interlock your fingers with hers, and drag her along to the kitchen.

That's how you find Alex pressed up against you, her strong hands resting against the edge of the counter top, hard chest pressing into your back, chin resting against your shoulder as she watches you pour out two drinks into red solo cups for you and her. She whispers sweet words in your ears, and to remember that she's driving you home, to make sure that you don't add any liquor to her cup. You giggle softly as you nod, melting into the girls touch, her soft caress and her even softer words. It's hard to remember the last time you were touched like this, given this sort of attention, told these sort of words. You figure that you could get used to it, especially when it's coming from her.

When you turn around in her arms, her hands are on your hips, giving them a slight squeeze as she smirks down at you. Both drinks are in your hand, and you simply stare up at her, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth, an overwhelming sense of warmth spreading throughout your chest, making it feel as though you could pounce this girl at any given moment-

And then it all stops.

Because suddenly, through the lust that you feel for Alex, your lips merely inches apart, the sound of someone clearing their throat somehow makes it through the music, cutting right in between the two of you and forcing you to look in the direction of where the sound was coming from, and you’re only met with Ellie.

A very angry, and annoyed, Ellie.

Her green eyes are dark, casted downward as she stares at you and Alex. She has a solo cup hanging loosely between her strong fingers, sharp jaw clenching as her eyes slowly drift between you and Alex, finally settling on you and giving you a look of disbelief, almost as if to ask if you were serious, and if this was some stupid fucking joke that you had.

And it’s so fucking awkward, that you have no choice but to break the silence.

“Ellie!” You chirp out, handing one of the cups to Alex before you turn to her, giving her an apologetic look, to which she simply sighs and gives you a nod before she briefly glares in Ellie’s direction.

You inhale deeply before you make your way over to your friend, clutching your cup slightly as you give her a smile. “Hey…sorry I didn’t come looking for you, did you and Sofia get in alright-“ Ellie immediately cuts you off, because you’re clearly trying to ease the burn of Alex being there, and you aren’t even sure why, because you truly don’t owe Ellie a single thing.

“What the fuck did you bring her for?” She gets straight to the point, and you can tell just how much she’s been smoking from her voice. It’s low, and rough, and if the way she was questioning wasn’t making you so fucking annoyed.

You would’ve been soaking wet just from the sound of it.

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief, a soft scoff leaving your lips as she give her a shrug. “Because I can? I didn’t know I was suddenly banned from bringing people places with me” you challenge her, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare up at the tall girl. Ellie chuckles softly, her tongue pressing against the inside of her cheek as she looks down at the floor before she nods slowly, smirking down at you.

“You know what? You can…don’t mind me” she hums out, a bit to casually for how angry she sounded mere moments ago. Her sudden change of tone makes you blink a few times, trying to see if you heard her correctly. You were convinced that this weird situation was going to turn into an argument, and you’d finally blow up on your best friend for acting fucking weird…

But that wasn’t at all what was happening.

“Oh…okay then…” you mumble out awkwardly, suddenly feeling small under Ellie’s gaze. Her eyes are low, and you can feel the way she’s eating you up, taking you in and shamelessly raking down every inch of your body with her emerald orbs that just seem different tonight than they have on any other night.

You both stay there for a few moments longer, and your skin begins to burn with the need to get away from the extremely awkward situation, making your mind cloudy with confusion as you’ve never once felt that way about Ellie. She’s a person you relate with the feelings of comfort, and warmth.

And now? You just needed to get away from her.

You inhale deeply, taking a large gulp of your drink that was far too strong, the contents burning your throat, which makes you wince as it travels down your body and settles in your stomach. You give Ellie a nod, clearing your throat as you avoid eye contact with her at all times. “Right, so….I’ll uh…I’ll catch you later” you try, giving your friend a half smile as you’re already making your way out of the kitchen to find Alex.

Ellie on the other hand? Simply gives you a slow nod, her eyes still shamelessly eating you up as you walk o it of the kitchen.

The only thing on your mind? Was that you needed to get drunk and forget about everything that just happened.

The laugh that leaves your body is almost too much to handle, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you lean into Alex, your face mere inches from your neck as you rest your weight against her, your feet feeling wobbly underneath you. Her hand was placed loosely on your hip, smiling lazily as she watched you lose yourself at another one of the jokes she had made.

The night had carried on after the situation with Ellie in the kitchen. After that, you had quickly found your way to Alex, relief settling in once you were finally able to enjoy the party with your date. You two were stuck to each other like glue from that point on, the vibes of the party making it easier to loosen up around Alex and truly get to know her outside of an academic setting, which was the main place of your relationship with her thus far. However, there was a looming presence that you simply could not shake from your spot with Alex at the bottom of the stairs, tucked away from everyone else.

Ellie.

Her eyes never left yours from her point on the couch. A blunt was loosely hanging from her tattooed hand, lifting it up and taking a drag ever so often, a beer in the other, and to make things even worse? She had Sofia propped right on her lap the entire time she watched you.

And as much as you tried to ignore it? Ellie’s glares were lethal. She made no attempt in hiding it, or pretending like she wasn’t keeping an eye on you and Alex like a fucking hawk the entire night. After about the tenth time of catching her run her tongue along her teeth every time Alex tried getting closer, you’d had enough.

Its how you ended up in your current position. You had dragged Alex to the kitchen with you, and she had taken a seat on the island, where you made your own spot standing between her spread legs. The more you drank, the funnier Alex got, and you suddenly couldn’t breath every time she spewed another silly joke your way.

You hummed softly, coming down from your laughing fit and finally catching your breath. Alex smirked softly at you, watching as you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, glossy eyes growing hazy, and giving the dreamiest look, strands of hair cascading down into your face, which made her push to the side to get a better look at you. It was like a movie, the universe setting up the most perfect time for you and her to finally do it, to finally break the barrier and press each others lips against one another…

But this isn’t a movie, and none of this is perfect.

You realize that, when you feel Alex’s body get shoved to the side, causing you to gasp softly and grip your cup a bit tighter, as well as grip Alex’s arm to make sure she isn’t pushed off of the island counter entirely. You’re ready to yell at whatever asshole made it a point to sit right next to you and Alex, when there’s not only an entire kitchen, but an entire house with thousands of other places to sit, because who on earth would do something so inconsiderate.

Ellie. Ellie Williams would.

Her laugh is something you’d always loved, when she was high, it was loud and boisterous and electrifying, and it had the power to make even the saddest person laugh. You especially loved it, when her voice would crack, and she’d shed a tear because whatever she was laughing at was far too much to handle.

But right now, in this very moment, her laugh was like nails on a chalkboard.

She laughs loudly, taking a seat right next to Alex on the island counter top, adjusting her worn out backwards baseball cap on her head, blunt perched between her lips, and taking a long drag before she blows the smoke right into Alex’s face. “Shit…my bad, man. I’ve just been looking everywhere for my two favorite people!” She chuckles out. Her words make you wince.

You’re frowning right at her, because you know exactly what she’s doing, her eyes are red, lips are plump and pink from all the biting and sucking she’d most definitely been doing, and her eyes never leave Alex’s, studying her face like she was a predator studying their prey, looking for all the flaws they could use to wiggle their way into the cracks.

And you realize, Ellie Williams was fucking cock blocking you.

You inhale deeply, trying to control your temper before you give Ellie a very exaggerated smile. “So nice of you to join us, Ellie….but I’m sure you have other things to do, why don’t you just…catch us later?” You try, your voice desperately trying to get Ellie away from the both of you, your eyes practically bulging out of your head as you try to silently tell your friend to leave.

But she ignores you completely.

Alex, being the angel that she is, simply chuckles softly as she shakes her head. “Not a problem…the more the merrier, right?” She nods, her words genuine. Her hand reaches down, wrapping around your waist and pulling you forward to be tucked into the side of her body, which warms you up.

A flash of anger ripples through Ellie’s expression, her face hard as she eyed the way Alex pulls you in before she quickly shakes it away, giving Alex a nod as she lifts the blunt to her lips once again. “You smoke?” She questions casually, her eyes drifting towards you for a brief moment before she blows the smoke away from you and Alex. Alex hums softly as she nods, “I do…but I’m DD tonight, so I’ve gotta pass” she politely declines, her long fingers rubbing a sliver of your exposed skin mindlessly.

Ellie rolls her eyes, giving a playful scoff “ahhh don’t be stupid, do you see this house? You and the princess here can crash in any one of’em” she smirks softly, eyeing you for a moment, watching the way you become bashful at the nickname. Alex sighs softly, looking down at you for a moment before she gives a half shrug. “Why the hell not…” she mumbles under her breath, taking the blunt from Ellie and bringing it to her lips, Ellie watching with the most mischievous look on her face, it almost looks fucking comical.

And that, was Alex’s first mistake.

Because sure, Alex had smoked a few times. She liked to pop an edible on nights where she couldn’t sleep or she needed a bit of rest and relaxation. So of course, she wasn’t at all a stranger to the angel that was Mary Jane herself.

But she had no idea, what Ellie was packing.

Ellie had always prided herself on having the best weed on campus, the college kids flocking to her every time she rolled up at a party. She had anything and everything you could think of, each strain providing something different for its users.

And for her? Her tolerance was high of course, so she would opt for something a bit stronger. The thing about that, is that not everyone could handle what Ellie smoked.

Alex was a prime example of that.

It only took about three passes between her and Ellie for Alex to be stumbling off of the counter and towards the couch, mumbling something about needing to be somewhere ‘soft’. You knew things were trouble as soon as Ellie was giving that smirk as she watched Alex pull from the blunt, one that looked like she’d already won whatever stupid battle she was playing with Alex.

Before you knew it, you were helping Alex up the stairs to a spare bedroom, struggling yourself because you were still very much drunk, helping her into bed, and watching her as she shoved her face into the pillow, let out a loud groan, and promptly passed out.

Alex had indeed, greened out.

You let out a soft huff as you stood back, watching the girl for a moment and thinking about everything she was experience, wishing you were able to take it all away and rewind time back to that moment in the kitchen, when your lips were mere inches apart, so close to tasting one another and cutting through this stupid slow burn that you had between one another.

But by the looks of that stupid smirk of triumph on Ellie’s lips as she watched you tug the girl to the stairs and to a spare bedroom, that wasn’t written in the stares for you.

You were so confused, and as you walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind you and making sure no one would walk in and interrupt her slumber, all you could think about is why Ellie was doing this. She was sabotaging you, that was without a doubt, but you just couldn’t understand why. Surely, you weren’t so blind that you wouldn’t be able to see that Alex was a bad person. You felt like your judgment of character was quite good, looking back at everyone you’d ever trusted, and trying to figure out if you’d ever gone wrong with who that wasn’t

But you couldn’t, nothing came up.

You pouted softly, making your way back into the kitchen and grabbing another cup and filling it with a drink. You figured, you might as well get your moneys worth through this damned party, and as much as you wanted to confront Ellie, you weren’t sure you could handle her reasoning behind doing what she did to you.

But alas, Ellie seemed to have continued her streak on making herself present in places that you wished she wasn’t, because as you were making your way to sit down at the bottom of the stairs, staring down into the orange color of your drink that was being distorted by the lights floating around in the party, you suddenly felt the familiar presence standing over you.

“Damn…a few pulls and that’s what takes her out? I think I’m doing you a favor, princess” you don’t even have to look up to know that she has that stupid fucking smirk on her lips. You let out a low sigh, resting your forehead against the palm of your hand before you bring your cup to your lips, taking another sip.

“I really don’t have time for this right now, Ellie. I’m finishing this, and then I’m going to bed with Alex” you explain, trying your best to put an end to this pointless conversation. You finally look up at her, giving her an unamused look. She’s seemed to have ditched her blunt and her baseball cap, a red solo held lazily between her hand as she takes a sip as well. Her smirk is gone once she hears your words, rolling her eyes as she leans against the wall next to the stairs.

“Seriously? You’re still interested in that idiot after what just happened? Isn’t she even the slightest bit pathetic to you?” She tried, and you swear you can hear her voice falling to a desperate tone. You scoff, unable to pay her tone any mind as you raise your eyebrows in disbelief.

“Her? The only one pathetic here is you, Ellie. I’m not stupid, I know exactly what you’re doing…the fact that you even had the time to do that was pathetic. Where even is Sofia? Don’t you have her to keep you occupied?” You practically spit out, unable to stop your words from sounding as harsh as they do. You know you’ll regret it later, despite the fact that Ellie very much deserved it.

Ellie eyed you carefully, bringing her cup to her lips before she gave a shrug that was far too nonchalant for what she was saying. “Dunno…she left a while ago” she mumbles out, staring at the bottom of your cup.

The way she says it, the way she had almost zero regard for the girl that she was raving about with stars in her eyes was almost scary, a chill running up your spine as you watched your friend.

You blinked a few times before you inhaled deeply, looking around at the house you were sitting in. The amount of people had lessened greatly since when you first arrived. What used to be a couch full of people was now only filled with a couple, passed out and wrapped up in each others arms. You sighed softly, throwing back the rest of what was in your cup down your throat before you shoved the empty cup towards Ellie’s chest. “I’m gonna go to bed….let me know when you wanna start acting normal again” you sigh out softly, turning around to begin walking up the stairs. A strong hand on your wrist stops you.

You frown, turning around and looking down to see Ellie’s tattooed hand squeezing your wrist, making you sigh softly. You try tugging your hand out of her grasp, clearly not in the mood for anymore of her tricks. “Ellie…come on. Im drunk, I’m tired, I am severely touch deprived, and right now, I just really wanna go to bed” you mumble out, your voice tired as you try wiggling your way out of her right hold on your hand, your hazy eyes looking up at her for a moment.

Thats when you catch it, that look of desperation that had become so frequent in your best friend. It was like she was begging you for something, begging for you to understand what she was saying, or what she was feeling. It makes your heart hurt, because it makes you realize that for the first time in the many years of your friendship with Ellie, you can’t understand her. You can’t read her feelings like you can your own, and the worst part of it all?

You can’t help her.

It makes you frown deeply, and you open your mouth to say something, to speak softly to your friend and try to come to a moral high ground where you could put aside her behavior, and try to understand what the root of it was. But before you can speak, you’re suddenly being dragged up the stairs.

You nearly trip over your own feet, the chunky sandals you decided to wear, paired with the alcohol in your system made it extremely hard to keep up with Ellie’s quick pace. You aren’t really sure how someone who’d spent the entire night drinking and smoking was able to move with such dexterity. You open your mouth to try and protest, to try and ask Ellie where on earth she was taking you, but those questions are all answered, because soon she’s tugging you into another spare bedroom, and locking the door behind her.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you watch your friend lock the door, and remorse you felt for her suddenly gone as it was now replaced with pure annoyance. “Seriously, Ellie? I told you I don’t have time for any games” you groan out, moving your arms so that they were crossed over your chest. You expect her to give you another witty remark, one that was about you or Alex, about how stupid you are for going for someone like that. But she doesn’t do that, in fact, she doesn’t say anything. Ellie begins pacing back and forth in front of you, her strong hand coming up to run through her short brown hair, making it fall down in front of her face again as she stares down at the ground deep in thought.

Her actions make you scoff, rolling your eyes as you sigh out loudly. “And now you’re pacing…you know I was going to cut you some slack. I was going to let all of this go because frankly, I don’t want to deal with your bizarre behavior, but now that we’re here and you’re literally in front of me pacing as it I did something wrong, I can’t let it go anymore! You know what, Ellie…I’ve been so patient with you and I think that-“ your rant is cut off, and at first you aren’t really sure what’s happening. Your brain struggles to register what it is that’s happening, what it is that’s forced your rant shorter than you had wished. But when you finally come to, you aren’t sure if any of this is even real anymore.

Because suddenly, Ellie is kissing you.

You were too caught up in your rant, that you didn’t even realize Ellie had stopped pacing, and was staring at you with a conflicting look, before she inhaled deeply and was nearly stomping towards you, cupping both of your cheeks with her hands and pressing her lips on yours.

All of your words die down in your throat, and you’re melting into the kiss, and you can’t remember how many times you’d though about this. You can’t remember all the times you’d dreamed of Ellie doing this exact thing. Grabbing you, and kissing you like her life depended on it, like she needed your lips to breath, acting as a lifeline that kept her connected to the real world. Your hands went up to grip her wrists softly, a quiet whine leaving your lips and going directly to Ellie’s, and it makes her groan.

Her hands leave your face, and the lack of warmth on your cheeks makes you whine softly, but you aren’t without it for long, because her large hands slowly travel down your body, running along your soft skin until they settle on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze before they slide down further, resting on your ass, to which she gives a firm squeeze.

Her grip makes you gasp, and she takes the advantage of pushing her tongue into your mouth, exploring you entirely and making you moan into her. Her mouth is warm, and wet, and it makes all of the blood in your body rush to your core. Your hands go to her chest, tugging at her shirt slightly as you let her dominate the kiss, playing with your tongue as she pleased, your head clouded with the an ever growing lust for your best friend.

“Ellie…” you moan softly into her mouth, the sound makes her groan, giving your ass a firm squeeze before her head drops down to attack your neck in kisses, her mouth licking, sucking, and biting on the soft skin of your throat. She isn’t sure she’s ever heard a sound so sweet, a sound that had the capability of throwing her into a frenzy of lust so quickly. “Lemme take care of you…” she mumbles out against your skin, giving your throat a playful nip.

It makes you whine softly, and before you can nod, beg her for everything you’d ever imagined, everything you’d ever wanted from her, a heavy, looming thought settles in. It’s like a dark cloud, one that quickly rains down on you and drenches you from the inside out, reminding you of why you couldn’t do this.

Sofia.

The name echos throughout your mind, and it makes you frown deeply, because it reminds you that this is wrong, and you couldn’t do this. You refused to be this, to be the other woman to your best friend of all people.

You frown deeply, shaking your head as you try to push Ellie away from you. “But…Sofia…” you mumble out, opening your mouth again to explain why you couldn’t do this, why she couldn’t do this, but Ellie quickly cuts you off with her lips on yours. She swallows down the words that were hanging off the edge of your lips, shaking her own head as she gives your hips a gentle squeeze.

“Isn’t here….you don’t need to worry about her right now…” she hums against your mouth, kissing you once more before she breaks the kiss, staring deep into your eyes, her own one’s blown out and lust filled. Her strong, calloused fingers go to grip your chin, angling your face so you’re staring up at her. “This is about you, and me right now…okay?” She promises, her words genuine, her eyes filled with something you can’t exactly make out.

And as much as the little voice inside your head screams at you to stop, to leave and go elsewhere, your heart is doing something entirely different, and the look in Ellie’s eyes is one you can’t deny.

So, you give in to her.

You stare into her eyes for a moment longer before you give her the tiniest nod, giving your trust to the girl. With that, she presses her lips against yours, the kiss was needy and sloppy and there were so many emotions put into it. Your head was spinning because you couldn’t understand the fact that this was actually happening.

You were actually kissing Ellie.

Through the clouds of your mind, Ellie begins pushing you back until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, her hand pressing against your chest gently and pushing you back to sit on the bed. You stare up at her when she does this, your eyes wide and needy, and it makes Ellie groan. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty…” she mumbles out, more so to herself than to you. You bite your lip softly, watching closely as she crawls over your body, pressing kisses against your exposed collar bones and neck until she reaches your lips again, taking the breath from your lungs away once again.

Ellie hums against you, relishing in the taste of your mouth, her hands traveling down your body until they reached your jeans, her skilled fingers undoing them. You pout softly, breaking away from the kiss and looking down at Ellie’s tattooed hand tugging at the waistband of your jeans. Ellie chuckles softly at the look on your face, to which she leans in and presses a kiss to your pouty lips.

“I told you…M’gonna take care of you…you trust me, don’t you baby?” She questioned, her green eyes staring into yours, hand massaging your waist gently. It feels like you can’t breath, because the look in her eyes, and the names she’s calling you are all things straight out of a fairy tale, and it makes you wonder whether this is all a dream or not. Even if it was, you decided you’d enjoy it to its fullest.

You stare down at Ellie’s lips before looking into her eyes and giving her a nod. “Of course I trust you, Els…” you hum out softly, giving her a gentle smile. The sound of your voice, and the little smile you give her makes her heart feel like it’ll burst, and she’s smiling with you, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips before she gives you a nod and kisses down your body until she’s on your knees in front of you.

Ellie brought her hands up to the back of either one of your knees, pulling you so your legs were spread, and you were at the edge of the bed. You propped yourself up on your palms, pressing them into the bed as you stared down at Ellie. You inhaled deeply, trying to fight off the intense butterflies you felt in your stomach, the feeling enough to make your head spin. Ellie stared up at you, gently tugging your jeans off your body and tossing them to the side. She presses a kiss to your inner thigh, humming softly as she kissed her way to your clothed core, her lips ghosting over the place you needed her most. “You’re in good hands with me, Angel…I promise” she assured you, giving you another slight nod before she presses the softest kiss to your pussy.

You gasp softly, watching as Ellie’s eyes never leave yours, scanning your face the entire time to make sure you liked what she was doing. She smirks softly against you as she watches the way you tug your bottom lip between your teeth, the way your eyes grow darker, filled with lust as you stare down at her. Both of her strong hands grip your thighs, keeping you spread for her as her kisses on your pussy grow firmer, making you whine. “Ellie…please…” you beg, and it makes her smirk against you again.

“So needy…tell me…what is it that you want, baby? Who’s tongue are you needy for?” She purrs out, her voice low and dripping with lust as she pulls your panties to the side painfully slow. You whine softly at the feeling of the cool air of the bedroom hitting your bare, wet pussy, it forces your hips to buck forward a bit.

“Yours…I want your mouth on me Ellie…please…don’t tease…” you moan out, your head tilting to the side as you watch her movements closely, hoping it’ll somehow make her speed up. She chuckles softly, a low hiss leaving her lips as she watches a string of your arousal connect to your cotton panties. She bites her lip, tugging them further to the side to get a good look at your core.

“Fuck yeah…look at how fucking wet you are, princess…so needy for me…” she hums out, getting a good look at your pussy before she slowly brings her mouth to your core, tauntingly slow, eyes never leaving yours. “For me, right? It’s all for me?” She questions, voice low. There’s a hint of desperation, like she needs to hear that it’s for her, she needs confirmation that this is her doing, and no one else’s.

It makes you moan loudly.

You give an eager nod, your hands fisting the sheets underneath you. “Yours! It’s all…all for you Ellie..” you confirm, because despite the cloudiness in your head, through all of it, there’s no doubt that she’s doing this to you, that Ellie is the reasoning behind the state you were in. Ellie smiles, and it’s like she’s so proud of you, like you’ve made her the happiest girl in the world just by telling her the truth.

You want to stick with that for a moment, look deeper into it and figure out what it is that you’ve said that’s made her so happening, but you can’t, because your head is spinning once Ellie latches her plump lips against your core, latching onto your clit and sucking like her life depended on it.

You throw your head back, back arching in pleasure almost painfully. Ellie watches in awe, because you look like a work of art, the prettiest painting, the most detailed sculpture, none of it can compare to the way your chest rises and falls, the way your lips swell, or the way your eyes become low and dreamy. You’re better than any work of art in the world, and it makes her feel lucky to even be here with you.

Her tongue is lapping at your core, watching as jolts of electricity travel through your body with each flick of her tongue to your sensitive little bundle of nerves, and she feels proud of herself for giving you this pleasure, for making you feel this way. You moan out Ellie’s name loudly, your head falling down and tilting to the side as you watch her closely. You want to remember it forever, you want to take this moment and burn it into your mind so you know that it’s real, and that this actually happened.

“So…so pretty…” you moan out, finding it hard to form coherent sentences through the blur of pleasure to felt, and the cloudy feeling that came with the alcohol. You felt numb and hypersensitive all at the same time, and the sensation of that made your head spin. Ellie groans softly against you, giving you an encouraging nod as she flicks her tongue against your weeping core.

And you suddenly feel it, that tight, coiling feeling at the pit of your stomach. It makes your legs shake, it makes your hips grind agains Ellie, forcing your pussy to grind against her face, desperately seeking your orgasm, needing to feel that familiar feeling of bliss wash over you, and you suddenly can’t help but wish that this doesn’t end, that this moment lasts forever.

“Ellie…Els I…fuck….mmmph…m’close!” You announce, your back arching further as you feel it growing closer, and closer and closer and the second you’re right there at the edge….

Its gone. And you realize, you need to be careful what you wish for.

You look down, a soft whine leaving your lips as you look at Ellie below you. Her face is soaked with your arousal, pupils blown out with lust, and bottom lip tugged between her teeth. You open your mouth to complain, to whine and tell her how close you were, but a shiver runs down your spine when Ellie brings her fingers to your core, rubbing circles ever so slowly into your throbbing clit.

“Look at you…poor baby wants to cum so badly, hm?” She hums out, voice tauntingly low as she stared up at you, eyes shining as she slowly toyed with your pussy. You can’t even respond, your hips buck up into her fingers, and she’s quickly clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and bringing one of her hands down to hold your waist steady

“Ooh, not so fast…I think you need to wait a little bit longer, baby” she explained, voice so low and sweet, it made your head spin. You let out a soft huff, tugging at the sheets beneath you further as you try moving your hips again. “Ellie..that’s…it’s not fair…I’m so close..” you explain, your demeanor clearly switching to one that was needy and huffy.

Ellie chuckles softly, nodding slowly as she continues toying with your pussy so slowly, it feels like torture. “No…no it isn’t fair” she hummed out, slowing her fingers down even more, which was something you weren’t sure was even possible.

She hums softly as she looks down at your poor, weeping pussy, biting her lip softly as she continued rubbing small circles into your clit, pulling you closer towards the edge, just to rip it all away from you, all over again.

“You know what else isn’t fair?” She questioned softly, her eyes now trailing up to yours, her fingers speeding up a bit. As much as you wanted her mouth, anything was better than nothing at this point, and you barely had the mind to give her a proper response. You whined softly, arching your back as you felt it again, growing closer to the edge. Ellie smirked softly as she watches you, going even faster before she leans in and gives your pussy a long lick, which makes you nearly scream.

“How much you hurt me, baby…” she mumbles out, and you can hear that she’s pouting. Her words make your eyebrows furrow, and you look down at her, whining and moaning through the pleasure as you try to see if you’ve heard her correctly. “W-what?” You whimper out, and it causes her to chuckle softly again.

“God, you’re so fuckin cute…” she whispers softly before she nods, a soft hum leaving her lips before she continues speaking. “You hurt me so much, princess….you and that stupid fucking girl…makes me so upset seeing you together, especially when I know I’d treat you so much better” she pouted out again, watching you as you fell apart above her. You’re sure you aren’t hearing her correctly this time. You’re sure that it’s the alcohol, and the pleasure, and everything else you’re experiencing that’s making you hear things.

There’s so much going on in her head, and you can’t even focus on it because she’s clicking her tongue again, and it’s almost like she feels sorry for you, for how much of a wreck you’ve become at the hands of her, at the workings of her tongue.

“And you don’t even fucking realize it too…that’s what pisses me off the most…” she groans out, speeding up her fingers, watching as you whine and wither for her. “You never fucking have…” she mumbles out that part a bit quieter, as it she hopes you don’t here it, or as if that part isn’t for you to hear.

She smirks softly, green eyes trailing up to watch you as she hums. “I think for the at…I shouldn’t give this to you so easily, huh? Pretty girl?” She continues, and you’re shaking your head before she can even finish her sentence. Somehow, out of all the outlandish things that have passed her lips within the last few minutes, that’s the only thing you can focus on and respond to, and that makes her chuckle.

“Ahh, but you can respond to that…” she teases, humming softly as she gently pushes her pointer and index finger into you, watching as your face contorts with pleasure, and it makes her groan softly. “I can’t even imagine how good you’d look taking my cock…you’re made for it…” she groans out through gritted teeth, watching as you moan and whine while she slowly fucks her fingers in and out of you.

At this point, you’ve been denied your orgasm so many times, you’re sure she’s going to do it again. You’re practically preparing for the second she stops, egging you on further until you’re crying for her. You let out a pathetic little whine, your legs threatening to close, and keep her out, to which she pouts. “Shutting me out already? But I haven’t even made you cum yet” she taunts, watching you with a look of pity before she leans in closer to your core, her warm breath wafting against your weeping pussy.

“I know you want it…you always have, haven’t you baby?” She smirks softly, eyeing you as her fingers come to a complete stop inside of you.

And that, that is what throws you over the edge.

Because you can’t take it anymore, one of your hands goes to the back of her head, grabbing a fistful of hair and pressing her face against your core. This results in a low groan from Ellie, one of her hands squeezing your thigh the second you push her in, and her tongue working on your core immediately. She’s just as desperate as you are, tongue lapping at your cunt like a hungry dog, wet noises of squishing and squelching echoing throughout the room, bouncing off the walls and making you feel even more aroused than before.

Her fingers inside of you begin pumping once again, and you finally feel it, that warm feeling you felt earlier, yet this time it’s stronger. All of the orgasms you’d been denied had built up together to create something explosive, electrifying, you could practically feel the energy building up within your body, begging to be released.

And the second you looked down into Ellie’s eyes, seeing the way she was watching your every move, watching the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your lips parted to let the most wonderful noises escape…

You were done for.

You came so hard, you saw white. It was like you’d died and gone to an afterlife where there was nothing but bliss, a euphoric state that left you almost feeling like you were no longer a body, but a soul. Your back arched so hard it was painful, you were sure to be sore in the morning. It was all too much, too powerful, too erotic.

When you came down from your high, all you could hear were Ellie’s praises. She called you a good girl, she called you her good girl, and she was so proud of you for how well you did, how well you took her. And all you could feel, was Ellie’s strong arms pulling you back into the bed, into her arms as she tugged the covers over your limp body, everything you felt was distant, it was hard to even compute what was real and what wasn’t.

And the last thing you felt before you fell into the most blissful sleep you’d ever experienced, was Ellie’s lips pressing the softest, sweetest kiss to yours.

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

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sinswithpleasure · 3 months

Text

Viewing Pleasure

------------------------ First fic of 2024!!! I'm happy to be squeezing out something, finally. ------------------------

You’re definitely not getting back to work for a while.

Movie scripts are hard work—words might not flow, scenarios don’t make sense, plot holes inadvertently happen, and coincidentally, all of that just happened to merge together into one massive problem ten minutes ago. You’re glad for the distraction that Gaeul provides—your girlfriend knows when to pull you out when you’re too immersed in work, too deep into writers’ block to progress anything. Right now, the distraction she serves is extremely welcome. You’re seated on your shared bed, shirt and pants discarded courtesy of Gaeul herself, boxers sporting a prominent bulge, and your girlfriend tugs her tube top off her body, arms crossed, fingers at the hem as she unwraps herself like she were a gift. She carelessly discards her top to the side, and you feast your eyes on your now-topless love, her cute, petite breasts exposed for you. You can’t help but palm your bulge, groaning at the relief it provides, and Gaeul reaches over to tug at the waistband of your boxers, a soft giggle escaping her lips at how needy you looked.

“This is a good distraction, isn’t it?”

“Fuck… yeah.”

When Gaeul tugs your boxers off, she gives your cock a few soft strokes, which leads you to softly groan and hiss in pleasure. She silences you with a short kiss, then she pulls away to finish undressing. You keep your eyes locked on her, staring with lust as she pushes her shorts off her, inch after inch of skin slowly being revealed at first, then all at once when the garment falls to the floor. Gaeul’s pussy glistens with her slick, and you can’t wait to get a taste of her. However, you’re mildly confused when she wheels over her huge mirror.

“What’re you…?”

“Oh, um…” Gaeul gives a shy grin, “Remember when we watched that porn clip together?”

You know the exact one—Gaeul had showed you a video of an amateur couple having sex in front of a mirror a week ago, and both of you had ended up getting off to it together. She’d mentioned that she’d like to try, and you were more than happy to agree.

“You wanna try it now?” You can’t help the grin that is plastered all over your face—that video was hot as hell, and so was Gaeul admitting she wanted to try it then.

“Mhm, I wanna watch us having sex.”

When Gaeul finishes positioning the mirror, she gets onto the bed with you, and you meet her in the middle for a kiss, your hands roaming the expanse of her body. One hand reaches to fondle her left breast, and the other kneads her cute ass, your tongue and hers swirling in a hot, openmouthed kiss. Gaeul doesn’t keep her hands free either—she reaches downwards to stroke your cock once more, her other hand wrapped around you for stability. Both of you moan into the kiss, vocalizing the pleasure you draw from each other’s touch.

“Fuck, Gaeul, baby, wanna fuck you already.” You softly groan your wish against Gaeul’s ear when you break the kiss, your hands latching on to your love’s hips and pulling her down closer to you. However, Gaeul has other plans.

“Not yet, babe.” Your girlfriend grabs your arm to stop you, and the suggestive, coy grin on her face promises that what she has in store might be better than your wish. “We have the entire afternoon, let’s take our time, mm?”

“What do you propose, baby?” You leave a soft peck on her lips, and Gaeul returns you one as well.

“You’ve always said I look so pretty when I cum. Show me, finger me and let me see how pretty I am when you make me cum.”

The anticipation and lust only builds as the both of you get into position. Gaeul rests comfortably between your legs, your hard cock pressed against her back, and she leans against your chest. You stare with unbridled lust as your girl begins to spread her legs. Bit by bit, she exposes herself fully to you through the mirror, and you devour the erotic image right in front of you. A blush dusts Gaeul’s cheeks as she fully opens her legs, and you look below to see her clit exposed from under the hood. Slick runs down her skin as she pants in anticipation, and you can’t help but run your hands over Gaeul’s body, down her arms, across her chest, and over her inner thighs. You pay special attention not to touch her core—you don’t want to give her what she wants just yet.

“God, fuck, you’re looking so fucking hot for me, Gaeul, baby.” You plant soft kisses on your girlfriend’s shoulders up to her neck on both sides, before nibbling her earlobe.

“I feel so fucking hot.” Gaeul can’t help but release shaky breaths and moans as you fondle her. “Please touch my pussy, babe?”

“Mm, okay.” You smirk, and you draw your hands closer to her core. You make use of your middle and ring fingers to spread the slick beneath your fingers across her skin—you collect what drips from her sex, careful not to touch her pussy, and you rub it around her nether lips. Gaeul softly groans as frustration builds, and you whisper in her ear, “Patience, baby.”

“Babe, please.” Gaeul attempts to shift her hips to catch your fingers, but you use your free hand to press her hips back down onto the bed. You can’t help but smile at the whine she releases, and you tease her even more as you draw your free hand up to her chest, ghosting over a taut nipple, then circling over her areola as you whisper in her ear, “Look, baby, look at how pretty you are all needy for me.”

Gaeul moans out loud when she looks into the mirror. She looks absolutely wanton—her body all exposed for you as you tease her even more by kneading her breasts. You can’t help but pull her in for a hot kiss, one which you keep brief. You reach below with your free hand, and when both of your hands reach her nether lips, you begin to spread them open. You put Gaeul’s pussy fully on display in the mirror, your cock twitching against her back as you stare at her wet hole, clenching and leaking, her slick staining the bed sheets beneath her.

“Open your eyes wide, baby. Look at how sexy you are, all spread out for me.”

“Mmgh, fuck, I…” Gaeul bites her lip, a crimson hue spreading across her face. “Babe, I’m shy… I look so naughty~.”

“Yes you do, baby.” You sporadically leave kisses on Gaeul’s cheeks, chin, and neck. “You’re my naughty girl who wants to watch herself have sex with me.”

“I hate you.” An embarrassed whine leaves Gaeul’s lips at your filthy words. “But I… I’m feeling so sexy right now.”

“Good.” You kiss Gaeul on the back of her neck. “You’re my sexy girl, my best girl. I love you.”

“I love you t—mmgh!” Gaeul’s reciprocation of love is interrupted by the one thing she’s wanted all along—your fingers on her clit. You leave her no chance to finish her reply as you slide two fingers over her erect nub, and you rub circles over it as your girl writhes under your touch, moaning out loudly and wantonly as pleasure courses through her veins. A few rubs of her clit sends more slick rushing out of her pussy, and you watch as the stains on the sheets beneath her grow in size. Gaeul can’t resist herself any more—she begins to knead her breasts herself with both of her hands, her eyes glossed over with pleasure as she helps you stimulate her even more. However, you’re not satisfied yet—you give Gaeul two more rubs of her clit before you reach below with your right hand, your middle and ring fingers easily penetrating her slick, wet, warm cunt.

“Oh, my God, fuck~!” Gaeul doesn’t expect the surprise, and you don’t give her a chance to process it—you thrust your fingers into her cunt, thoroughly coating your digits in her slick. Your love can’t hold her moans back—with every upstroke of your fingers deep into her hole, she whines, gasps, groans, whimpers. Each sound she makes only fuels your lust further.

“Fuck, you look so pretty, baby.” You admire the reflection of Gaeul in the mirror—the girl squirms under your touch as she actively thrusts her hips against your fingers. Gaeul is just as eager for pleasure as you are to please her, and you’re nothing short of pleased as well watching your typically composed and shy girlfriend drop her walls, blatantly putting her inner sexual desires on display for you. You grab one of her hands, still kneading her chest, and you pull it down to her clit. “Touch yourself for me.”

Your lust for Gaeul only burns brighter when she follows your word, and you take the only outlet that you can to express it—you push your girlfriend’s chin up, and she meets you in the middle for hot, openmouthed kisses. At the same time, you curl your fingers inside her, seeking the spot that drives her insane. Gaeul’s slick drips all over your hand—your fingers and palm are drenched in her arousal, and you swear she’s never been so wet before. The girl can’t resist moaning with every curl of your fingers inside her, and when she breaks the kiss to cry out in pleasure, you know you’ve got her where she wants it.

“Fuck, that’s right, baby, moan for me. Look at how naughty you are, wanting to watch yourself have sex, watching yourself getting fingered like that. Look at you, all needy, masturbating for me to watch. You’re such a naughty girl, Gaeul, my naughty girl.”

Your dirty talk only adds on to the haze of pleasure that Gaeul enjoys. In between “I’m so naughty”, “Fuck”, and “Please”, wordless moans and the occasional “Babe” make it through, but you interrupt her stream of words with kisses too. The intimacy you share with her only adds to her pleasure, and when you feel her pussy begin to tighten, more slick flowing from her hole along your fingers, you begin to speed up your thrusts in her. Gaeul rubs her clit in time with your fingers, and you pull her close to you with a hand over hers on her chest.

“Baby, fuck, I… mmgh, I’m close, I’m so close, I’m so—” Before she can finish, you whisper right in her ear, “Let it all go for me.”

It takes you two thrusts to take Gaeul to her peak. Your girlfriend gasps, and with a loud moan, her back arches, then she convulses in your embrace. You can’t help but loudly swear when a strong jet of clear liquid gushes out of Gaeul’s cunt, and you pull your fingers out to furiously rub her clit. Her cries of pleasure increase in volume and frequency as more and more jets of her cum splatter all over the mirror and the floor. Both you and Gaeul keep your eyes locked on the distorted reflection in the mirror—the sight of your girlfriend squirting as she orgasms drives you insane. Gaeul can’t stop squirting either—she drenches her feet in the air as she shakes and shudders with each gush of girl cum, every jet of her juices hissing audibly as she continues wetting the sheets, mirror, and floor with her juices. She doesn’t stop moaning throughout—in fact, she gets louder and louder the harder she cums. It takes what feels like an eternity before she calms down, her orgasm finally subsiding, and she deflates into your embrace, her eyes glossed over in a deep haze of pleasure. You pull her tight into a hug—you need to process what just happened too.

“Babe, I squirted…” Gaeul’s exhausted voice draws you out of your trance. “I… I’ve never done that before.”

“Fuck, I know, you were so hot. You must’ve been so horny.” You hug Gaeul even tighter. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” Your girlfriend pants in exhaustion, her body limp after such an amazing orgasm. “And you’re right—I do look fucking pretty when I cum.”

Gaeul rests comfortably in your arms, and you embrace her tightly. Through all of your lust, you’re patient enough to wait, even though you want to have sex with your love already. The intimacy between you and her is something you will never get enough of, and you take the time to leave kisses across Gaeul’s shoulders, neck, and back while she catches her breath. However, you catch some movement in the mirror—Gaeul is rubbing her clit again, her fingers teasing her opening once more, shaky breaths punctuating every pleasurable move.

“Babe,” Your love sighs in pleasure, before her lips rise into a slight grin. “I’m ready again.”

You watch as your girlfriend pushes herself off the bed, out of your embrace. She turns around to press you back onto the mattress, her free hand pulling a pillow for you to rest your head on. You bite your lip and stare in unadulterated lust at Gaeul as she straddles you, and she leans in to kiss you softly. Her hand reaches between your bodies, and she wraps it around your cock to give it a few strokes.

“It’s my turn to please you.”

You can’t help but groan when Gaeul’s kisses begin to travel—your girlfriend is amazing at using her mouth during foreplay, and over that, she’s the best at making you want her, need her. Down your neck she leaves a trail of kisses before her tongue swipes over the trail she left, her hot breath right against your ear when she opts to leverage her soft, sultry voice against you.

“Fuck, baby, so hard, and it’s all because of me.” You can’t help but whimper at how sexy Gaeul sounds. “I love it. I love you.”

“Shit,” you groan, “I love you too.”

Gaeul smiles against your skin at your reply, and she kisses her way down your body. You watch with need as she teases your nipples with her tongue, and she even giggles at your whimpers—she hasn’t stopped stroking you. Her fingers spread your pre-cum all across your length, and more dribbles from your tip as she stimulates your perineum with her fingers.

“Fuck, baby, oh my God…” You can’t help but swear at the pleasure of Gaeul’s touch, and she raises her head to meet your eyes, the mischief and satisfaction in her gaze making you groan. Your love strokes your shaft slower as she kisses down your chest and tummy, and when she reaches your cock, she replaces her hand with her lips, planting kisses all over your slick cock.

“Mm, you always taste so good.” Gaeul licks your pre-cum off her lips when she kisses you right on your tip. You can’t help but buck your hips when she uses her tongue on you—she pulls your foreskin back and licks all over your tip, paying special attention to your slit. “I love using my mouth on you.”

The moan that escapes your throat when Gaeul takes you into her mouth might be louder than normal, but you don’t care. You love it when she blows you—her hot, wet mouth pleasures you so well, and her skill with her tongue is unmatched. Right now though, you can’t help but stare at the mirror, stare at Gaeul with her head between your legs, her ass up in the air, putting herself on display for you to ogle. She has two fingers inside herself, masturbating again, and you’re mesmerized. You’re mesmerized by the way Gaeul clenches around her fingers, how her ass tightens and loosens, how much of her slick drips down her fingers and wrist to the bed below. Gaeul’s soft moans only add to your pleasure as well—she’s got herself on a steady pace, bobbing her head on your shaft as she services both herself and you.

“Shit, Gaeul, fuck, you’re so fucking hot, oh, fuck…” You place a hand on your girlfriend’s head as you rest on one arm, eyes darting between the visual treats in front of you. Gaeul has her other hand fondling your balls now, adding more pleasure into the mix, before she swaps places with her hand. Now, she jerks you off as she takes your balls in her mouth, her tongue tenderly gliding across your sensitive skin. She’s rewarded with more pre-cum that dribbles from the tip, which she spreads thoroughly over your already-wet shaft.

“Fuck, baby, I… I’m getting close.” You can feel the familiar pressure below your tummy—the desire to erupt, to release just under the surface. Your cock twitches under Gaeul’s touch, and she slows down on jerking you off. She rises from between your legs, and she leans in to kiss you right at the corner of your lips.

“Can you hold it for me, baby?” Gaeul pants in pleasure ever so often. “I don’t want you to waste it like that.”

Your girlfriend leans in, her voice right at your ears again.

“Not when you should be cumming raw inside me.”

“Oh, fuck…” Your cock twitches hard at Gaeul’s words, and another dribble of white pre-cum runs down your length. Your girlfriend admires how needy you look, and she leans in for a kiss on your lips this time, one which turns into a quick makeout with tongues swirling. Gaeul moans into the kiss, and when both of you break it up, a string of saliva hangs briefly between your tongues before breaking and dripping below.

“Babe, I feel so good right now.” Gaeul is moaning right in front of you, her hand between her legs plunging deep into herself. You grab onto Gaeul’s hips as she continues masturbating, and you take your chance to admire your girlfriend pleasuring herself up close in front of you. “I feel so hot, so fucking sexy, showing you how I touch myself in the mirror and in front of you like this…”

Gaeul raises her free hand to support herself on your shoulder, and you keep her steady with your hands on her hips. She gives you a mesmerizing smile, before she whispers, “Watch me cum.”

The next few moments feel like a fever dream, but it’s all very real—Gaeul gets herself off right in front of you. You swear the mirror’s taken off every bit of shame and restraint off her, and you’re more than happy to have a front row view of it. Your eyes rake over Gaeul’s body, but you end up staring at her face, at her expressions. Gaeul bites her lip as the pleasure builds between her, and she doesn’t bother hiding how good she feels—she moans your name out loud, she tells you to keep your eyes on her, and finally, you get to hear the words you’ve so wanted to hear.

“Fuck, baby, fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!”

A short “Oh, fuck!” precedes Gaeul’s orgasm. The next moment, your love’s nails dig into your shoulder, and her hips buck in your hands as her release hits her. A huge gush of squirt sprays all over your abdomen, your cock, and your thighs. You don’t bother holding back the swears that leave your lips, and neither do you stop staring at your girlfriend, as well as the reflection of her in the mirror. Spray after spray of girl cum wets your body and sheets as Gaeul shudders, her eyes rolling back in pleasure with each jet of her squirt that she drenches you in. With each warm spray of cum on your cock, you feel the familiar urge build in you again, and you try your hardest to stave it off, just as she requested. However, you’re not able to hold it off completely—three spurts of hot semen spray onto your tummy as your cock pulses, mixing with her cum on your body. The involuntary mini-orgasm has you groaning—clearly, Gaeul isn’t the only one visibly affected with this new experience.

When Gaeul’s orgasm comes to an end, she leans in to give you a short peck on the lips. However, she notices your cumstained cock and skin, and she giggles.

“Heh, I thought I told you to hold it, baby.”

“I’m sorry, babe.” You kiss her on the lips again, then give her a wink. “You’re too hot.”

Gaeul’s reply is to smirk. You bite your lip when she turns around on top of you, making it a point to push her ass towards you, softly swaying her hips to keep your attention on her.

“Now, hold it just a little while longer, okay?” Gaeul’s soft voice has you reluctantly tearing your eyes away from her ass. “I want the rest of that all in me, and I’m going to ride it out of you, baby.”

The groan that leaves your lips at her words only gets louder when you feel her sink down on your cock. Your hands instinctively shift to Gaeul’s waist to guide her down on your shaft. Inch by inch, her warm, wet walls envelop your hard cock until she has you hilted in her. Not even a second goes by before she’s lifting her hips already, pulling herself halfway off your shaft before sinking back down. Once, twice, and on the third time she does that, you meet her in the middle with your own thrusts to form a rhythm. Both you and Gaeul don’t bother holding back any moans of pleasure—the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh as well as vocalizations of pleasure merge to form an erotic score that basically is music to your ears. The visuals only add to the experience: not only do you enjoy Gaeul’s moans of sexual relief, you get the best of both worlds in watching her not only fuck herself on your cock right in front of you, but you also get to see it in the mirror. You’re not the only one who’s watching though—Gaeul admires herself as well. She arranges her messy hair and preens in the mirror, partially for herself, and partially for you.

“You look so fucking pretty like that, babe.” You subconsciously begin to thrust harder. “I love you so much, and I love fucking you so much too.”

“I love you too, baby, mm~!” Gaeul’s whines of pleasure break her sentence up, and you’re grinning at the pretty sounds she makes. “You’re right, I… I do look pretty fucking myself on your cock like that!”

“Mm, that’s right, you’re my pretty babe, my lovely girl.” You shift your hands up and Gaeul leans back, using her feet and arms to support herself as she continues to fuck herself on your shaft. Your hands reach up to tease her nipples, and the groan that Gaeul releases has you grinning even more. You sneak a peek in the mirror, and Gaeul has a hand on her clit now, rubbing herself to add to the pleasure. With this new angle, you find yourself hitting her G-spot over and over, and Gaeul only gets louder, wetter, tighter with each stroke of your cock rubbing against her walls. The sensitivity from her previous two orgasms is the catalyst that brings her close to her third, and you’re getting close to orgasm once more as you twitch deep inside her.

“Babe…” Gaeul’s soft term of endearment is all you need to know what she wants. You start to ramp up your thrusts, and so does she. Both of you drive each other closer and closer to orgasm—she drenches your cock with more of her juices, and you’re leaking copious amounts of precum in her as well. Every thrust pushes both of you towards the precipice, and—

“Gaeul, babe, fuck!” Your cry of pleasure heralds your orgasm. Immediately, your cock twitches and you’re firing stream after stream of thick hot cum into Gaeul. Almost immediately, Gaeul shudders under your touch as her hips buck, her pleasure bursting out of her in streams once more. Once again, your love makes a mess of you and the sheets, just as you make your own mess deep within her walls, just as she wants it. You level thrust after thrust deep into your love, hell bent on fucking your cum deeper into her, hell bent on keeping both your pleasure as well as hers, going for as long as possible. Eventually, both of you come back down from your respective highs. Gaeul collapses next to you in exhaustion, a sweaty but ultimately satisfied mess. She snuggles close to you. “Cuddle?”

“Sure.” You wrap an arm around her. “I love you.” “I love you too.” She wraps her arms around you, and both of you bask in the intimacy and each other’s company. You smile as you plant kisses on the crown of her head.

“You were so sexy being all confident like that.”

“Really?” Gaeul grins. “We should do this again. It was hot.”

“You’re right. We should. Thank you for the distraction and the experience, baby.”

“You’re welcome!”

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #male reader #gaeul smut #kim gaeul smut #ive smut #ive gaeul smut

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miraclewoozi · 5 months

Text

DRIVE. - l.c

DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.

pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC. notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away. notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!

SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).

You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago.

Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room.

Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right.

You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones.

It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.

Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.

Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’.

And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.

In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone.

Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–

And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name.

You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”

His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”

“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”

You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.

In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”

It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry).

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’

If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen.

Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –

Clink.

Stupid. Fucking. Stones.

A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.

You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts.

Black dahlias.

You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)

Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”

He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”

He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”

“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”

“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour.

His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed?

“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”

“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”

Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.

“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”

“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”

“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”

You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him.

But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.

All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense.

“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know.

Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.

But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans?

With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.

All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can.

He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty.

Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?

You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.

“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it.

You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away.

“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”

“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.

He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced.

But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”

Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there.

“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”

You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.

“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”

But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”

Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?

“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”

You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”

“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”

He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.

“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”

“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”

“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”

You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since.

“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”

He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?

Well, tell a lie.

There is one more.

“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly.

You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most.

You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it.

Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —

A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits.

Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask.

Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through.

You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.

“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake.

“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”

“You’re the someone else.”

Oh.

“I’m—?”

“You.”

The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so.

“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage.

Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”

“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest.

“Yes — you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“No, you’re just an idiot.”

“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”

“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning.

“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on.

“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”

He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth.

Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle.

He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough.

“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe.

“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.”

“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—” He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”

Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go.

There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him.

“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.”

You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different.

(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)

Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms.

It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.

“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice.

“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”

“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants.

Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured.

You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”

And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use.

“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”

Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again.

“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”

Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans.

“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle.

He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat.

It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like.

You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base.

Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.

“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him.

He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming.

You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess.

He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop.

“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name.

Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to.

“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”

It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.”

You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own.

When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself.

“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle.

“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah—”

Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache.

God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum.

He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas.

“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.

“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)

thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3

#dino smut #lee chan smut #dino x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #kpop smut #j writes.#*#this description is ass we're gonna pretend it isnt. ok THANKS bye <3

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mvltisstuff · 10 months

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Could i request for a Conrad fisher X reader where reader has a younger sibling who gives her a hard time and her parents favour her younger sibling more. It's the reader's bday on the same day as belly's and her family doesn't get her anything and they don't bother with an excuse either and say they don't really care abt her so it doesn't matter. So Conrad comforts her later and if u don't mind u could include some smut at the end?

(this is my situation rn lololol but without Conrad to comfort me😭)

matilda - c.f

summary: request

conrad fisher x reader

a/n: i’m so sorry love, sorry this is a few days late but you are so loved and appreciated no matter what, hope this makes you happy today <3

it’s been a recurring theme for most of y/n’s life. the overheard quotes about the older sibling had eventually become a reality. they didn’t even wait for y/n to try and live up to them. instead, they just accepted that their daughter wasn’t as good as the rest of their children.

as upsetting as it is, kids experience it too much. y/n experiences it every day, so when she realized it wasn’t normal, that’s when it started to hurt more every year.

this day was supposed to be different. she was so excited, turning 18 and finally being an adult. free of her parents if she wanted to be. she thought that maybe, just maybe, her parents would think of her for a day, and make it about it. alas, the second she woke up and walked into the kitchen, y/n’s hopes were shut down.

“y/n, can you take y/b/n to practice? i’m going out with sharon today,” her mom said, barely even looking at her.

“uh, i’m leaving in a bit, remember?” she speaks, trying to sound as polite as possible. “the fishers invited me over for today.”

“hon, we get it,” her dad talks next, peering up over his glasses and newspaper of the town. “but, to some point, it’s just another day. just do what your mother asked.”

y/n looks at her little siblings at the table, messing around and receiving no repercussions. she still remembers when that was her. playing with her parents, happier than she ever was again. she loves her siblings to death, but she loves herself, too. y/n deserves more than she’s been given, so she confides. she drives her brother to whatever practice, wishing him luck as he whispers a happy birthday, then jumping out of the car to see his friends.

she’s already dressed up for the party for belly. the fishers had welcomed her with open arms, even having decorations and sweets for her on the table. everyone figured she’d have something going on at home, but oh, they were so wrong. she didn’t receive a single birthday message from the people who gave her life, so did it matter? even if she didn’t believe it, at least the fishers knew she was worth it. she was dressed in one of her best outfits, a simple dress with small flowers printed over. she had small wedges and her hair was done neatly. she felt pretty, she is pretty.

she walked into the house, belly hearing the door open first. she skips toward, engulfing y/n in a huge hug. “y/n!” she squeals. “happy birthday!”

“oh, belly! happy birthday to you, you look so cute!”

“are you kidding? your man’s gonna go wild when he sees you!” she whispers, making y/n blush toward the end.

“belly, stop!” she nudges. “he’s not my man… yet.”

they giggle together before moving back into the kitchen where y/n greets susannah and laurel, along with the rest of the boys. conrad stands up first, in a heartbeat. he walks over, almost lifting y/n off the ground in a hug.

“hey! happy birthday!” he tells her, excitedly as he pulls away. jeremiah comes piling in next, saying his words to the person he considers a sister.

“didn’t y/m/n have anything planned?” susannah asked from the pure kindness in her heart.

“oh,” y/n mutters. “we, uh, we did something yesterday.”

conrad can tell when y/n lies. he can read her like a book at this point. he’s spent so long fanboying over her that he knows what she’s feeling. when she’s sad, excited, pissed, he knows. it pulls at his heart when he can sense the disappointment in her voice. he starts to get more alarmed with every drink she takes throughout the day. she’s not even a big drinker, never really taking an offer. now he’s positive somethings wrong.

if y/n’s parents didn’t care about her, they don’t care if she drinks, right? she’s with her friends, she’s allowed to. plus. it’ll take the edge off of the internal wounds her parents have left her with. her feelings on the whole matter start to disintegrate for a while, until belly’s cake comes out and is handed to her. it’s so nicely done, perfect detail and so much love. they put time into her cake and party, and y/n can’t help the jealousy rising up. she vividly remembers every one of her younger siblings birthdays. all of them having their friends and a party, while y/n was just locked in her room on her birthday. the presents and the cheesy grins from everyone were overwhelming every year. she couldn’t help but think about what it could be like with her real family. maybe they could love her as much as she deserves, but in reality, they won’t. they can, but they chose not to, which hurts even more.

y/n stumbles around on the balcony, around people while carefully savoring every last drop of whatever is in her can. she’s probably had too many, but she doesn’t care. it’s almost like it’s reversed itself now. she watches belly open all of her presents and receive hugs and kisses, and the lump in her throat becomes thicker. she thinks of the alcohol as her enemy now, just bringing back the thoughts in her sober mind.

it’s not until everyone hears the clicking of y/n’s heels on the pavement that they notice her walking away. her hand is swiping away the loose tears and everyone looks at conrad. if there’s anyone y/n wants to see, it’s him. they’ve been in love for so long, it’s almost painful to watch. as she walks away, blurry vision from the alcohol and the tears, she tries to grab another can from the box before a hand stops her.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea,” conrad says, gently taking it out of her hand and landing it back in the box.

“oh, great. more fuckin’ judgment,” she retorts, making conrad’s face contort.

“hey, what’s going on? you’ve been off all day.”

“i am, perfectly fine,” y/n slurs. conrad places a hand on her shoulder, and takes them to sit on the steps. his arm is wrapped around her, the other one gripping her hand.

“i know you’re not. it’s ok to not be ok,” he looks at her nose scrunch and her cheeks turn red again. “hey, hey, don’t cry, you’re alright.”

“no,” she weeps out, putting her head in her hands. “i’m a mess! i don’t know what to do, i cant make it any better and i’ve been trying for 14 fucking years!”

“hold on,” he keeps his voice low. “what do you mean?”

“my parents don’t give a shit. they haven’t since y/b/n was born and they didn’t even bother about me anymore,” conrad pulls her into his arms, leaning back as her teardrops soak into his shirt. “i didn’t do anything for this, and belly’s being loved unconditionally without having to fight for it. and i feel like a bitch getting upset over it but-“

“absolutely not. don’t say that ever again. you don’t deserve anything they’re giving you. anything they’ve said to you is a fucking lie. i know who you are. you’re the most perfect, beautiful person i’ve ever met, inside and out. you don’t have to prove anything to them, because they don’t deserve your amazingness,” he speaks to her. it’s nothing but the truth, and nothing he would ever hesitate to say. “and i will spend forever trying to prove to you that you’re nothing but beautiful a beautiful person.”

y/n looks up at him, only bursting into more tears as he laughs a bit. “oh, my god, conrad. i love you, so much. i know i’m drunk but i mean it more than anything.” she’s felt nothing like she does now. she’s never had someone accept her so quickly and with so much appreciation. she feels like she can do nothing but cry and just love on him.

“i’m glad,” he begins again. “because i love you, too. no matter what your parents say or do. they don’t define you.”

and in this moment, for the first time in a long time, y/n knows someone loves her. and he’s not just saying it for comfort. she doesn’t need her parents to be loved. if they can’t do that, there will forever be someone out there who loves her just as much. she knows she’s enough, and that’s enough.

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leclerced · 6 months

Note

“you sure you can fit all of me? it might hurt.” with charles please 💖 BUT WAIT LET ME COOK reader is like doubtful when he says it because charles seems like “average size energy” but then shes crying at the end 😊😍 SORRY FOR THE WORD VOMIT 😭🙏

sorry she didn’t make it to the end until she cried ):

Charles had her whimpering and begging from his fingers within minutes after he pulled her into the guest room. Fucking a friend of a friend at a stranger’s house party isn’t how he planned to end the night, but he wasn’t going to stop when her fingers tugged on his hair as she rocked her hips against his hand. “Cha, I want more. Don’t wanna wait.” His gaze flicked up from where he was fucking her with his fingers and met her eyes. He blinked slowly at her, thinking about how tight she felt around his fingers and how she surely couldn’t take his cock after less than five minutes of foreplay.

He huffed above her as he scissored his fingers in her tight hole, “You sure you can fit all of me? It might hurt.” She clenched around his fingers and he felt his cock twitch at the thought of feeling her tight cunt around him.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she laughed, men were always so fucking cocky for no good reason. “I’m not a virgin, Cha.” Her eyes drifted down his body, staring at the bulge in his tight jeans. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe he could be packing, but he was only four inches taller than her and he was acting like he was hot shit when the bump in his jeans wasn’t anything impressive. It wouldn’t be the first time she was disappointed by an average man who talked up his game before fucking her, and wouldn’t be the last.

He laughed as he pulled his hand from between her thighs, “If you say so, cherie.” If she was going to laugh at the idea of not being able to handle his cock, he was going to prove her wrong. Her hands were pulled from his hair as he flipped her over and jerked her hips up so she was on her knees, “If you’re going to act like a whore when I’m just trying to make you feel good, I’m going to treat you like one.”

She braced herself on her hands and knees and began turning to look back at him as she heard the rustling of jeans being taken off, but his hand slid up her back and pushed down between her shoulders so she’d collapse into the mattress, her arms buckled and her cheek pressed into the duvet cover. She arched her back and pushed her hips towards him, “Cha-“ Before she could finish, she felt the head of his cock press against her entrance and in one sharp thrust he bottomed out. Her voice cracked as she moaned his name, her mind fracturing as she tried to adjust to the sudden stretch between her legs. She blinked away tears as he began fucking her without giving her proper time to adjust and she gasped, “Fuck- I- fuck, Jesus Christ.” Everything burned suddenly and she couldn’t breathe as she was overwhelmed by the feeling of his thick cock rushing in and out of her. He could have warned her at least.

Charles couldn’t help but enjoy the shudder that wracked through her body as he teased, “I thought you could take it baby.” She whined, her hands grasping at the sheets as he set a bruising pace. She couldn’t think straight with how full she felt, she couldn’t stop breathy moans that fell out in little ah-ah-ah’s as he fucked the breath out of her with every thrust. He grinned and squeezed her ass, “That’s it, baby, feels good doesn’t it? Like my cock fucking you?”

She could barely get the words out as she stuttered, “You- you’re so- big.” The last word was moaned as his cock hit her g-spot and he felt her pussy fluttering around him, somehow impossibly tighter than it already was. He finally looked away from her abused cunt and to her face, shocked to find tears running down her cheeks as she pressed her face into the sheets to muffle her moans.

Charles’s hand found it’s way into her hair and he pulled her back so her back was pressed to his chest, and his free hand slipped around to the front of her body to rub her clit. Her entire body jerked when his fingers found the bundle of nerves between her thighs, she would have collapsed back down in front of him if he wasn’t supporting her with his grip in her hair. It was all too much, the feeling his fingers on her clit and his cock fucking in and out of her, stretching her in ways she had never been stretched before. His hand pulling her hair as his mouth found her neck so he could sink his teeth into her flesh and leave a pretty bruise. She couldn’t even warn him before her orgasm hit her and she spasmed around his cock, her jaw went slack as he fucked her through her orgasm. The pleasure quickly overrode into pain and she tried to pull away from him, “Cha- too sensitive, it hurts,” she whined.

He slapped her clit and growled, “You said you could take it, so shut up and take it.” He released his grip on her hair and she fell forwards again, face pressed into the pillows as he continued fucking her and she moaned, taking his orders like the good girl he knew she was from the moment they were introduced hours before.

#cl16 #cl16 smut #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #f1 smut #blurbs #my writing #cl16 blurb

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darnell-la · 4 months

Text

Knock you up.

word count: 2.2k

pairing: perv!delusional!Eddie Munson x innocent!bratty!reader

warning: CNC, hair pulling, choking, stalking, perving, angry/hard sex, whining, defenseless, mention of drugging reader, non-con-face cuming while sleeping, age gap, etc.

WE DO NOT CONSENT TO ANY COPIES OF OUR STORIES!

————————————————————————

3rd person pov

God knows Eddie is a sick bastard. Never a day in his life since 9th grade has he not jerked off to some random thought or woman. Usually, it would be y/n. The girl he’s been crushing on since she started high school.

Munson was a senior when y/n arrived at the school. She was the cutest little thing he’d ever seen. The way she dressed, the way she looked and all the way up to the way she acted was perfect to him.

She wasn’t a child, and she was pretty mature for her age. The only thing about her that makes Eddie a creep, is how innocent she looks.

Y/n seems like a girl who wouldn’t drink unnecessarily, have unnecessary sex, miss classes or school, or do anything Eddie might have done his first year in school.

The innocent girl is now a senior and in the same class as Eddie. He’s failed 3 times, but this year has to be his last. He has to go wherever y/n plans to. He can’t just let her go.

All the years of walking past y/n and occasionally hanging out with her, he could never get her to feel as comfortable around him as he wanted.

Maybe that was his fault though, because he’d always pressured the poor girl to smoke with him, knowing she’d knock out every time.

He hadn’t used her body like he’d dreamed of when she would be knocked out, but he definitely did jerk off until he came on her face. He’d slip her tiny skirts up to take a smell of that cunt.

He could never get passed that point. Not even to free her tits or maybe eat her till she cums because he’d cum just from the smell of her.

After all these years of uncomfortable situations, y/n decided to tell Eddie, their senior year, that she was moving in different directions of friends. She offered to hang out occasionally, but he didn’t like that.

Eddie threw a fit and her neck ended up wrapped in his hand. He said some very nasty things, rather that was calling her “My fucking slut,” or saying “If you keep makin’ me wait, I’ll take it from you,”.

This was a couple of months ago, and since then, y/n hasn’t spoken a word to him. She can’t look at him or talk about him. He’s done too much.

“Y/n, just talk to me! I-It’s been so long,” Eddie stalked behind y/n as she walked through this surprisingly big school. “I don’t want to, Eds,” she said as she began walking up the stairs.

“Please, princess, I’m sorry, okay? I really am, I just- I just needed you,” Eddie said, aching that his baby girl couldn’t even look into his eyes. “Why do you need me? You’re like 21 Eddie. I just turned 18,” y/n rolled her eyes as she hit the top of the stairs.

Of course, y/n had a crush on Eddie since she was a freshman, but over time, she’s met other people. She’s never gone far because she’s had this voice in her mind saying Eddie. She could only be for Eddie.

Now that her feelings died down, she’s been getting better with letting these college boys make out with her. Maybe even finger her, but she’s never given to them or had sex.

Eddie of course knows about this, which makes him furious. She’s never told him about her feelings, but it’s not hard to see a shy girl.

“C’mon baby, don’t be like that. We both know you love that. I’m mature and strong and can take so good care of you,” Eddie kept following the girl. She’s just trying to get to her class. She can’t have this conversation right now.

“I don’t need to take care of Eddie! I’m an adult,” y/n grew annoyed. “You’re not a fucking adult! You’re still going and need protecting,” Eddie’s delusional thoughts got out.

“Fuck off, Munson,” y/n finally got out. Eddie’s face and attitude about this situation, change right after her response to him pouring his heart out. This fucking brat.

Eddie quickly ran up behind y/n and grabbed her, causing her books to fall out of her hand. “Eddie, what the hell! Get off of me!” She yelled as she fought. They went at him for quite some time, but sadly, her bag ended up on the floor and she ended up pinned against the lockers by her neck.

“Calm down!” Eddie huffed in her face. As much as he loves the fight, he wants to set her straight. “Eddie, stop,” y/n whined as she kicked, but that didn’t bother him. “Stop it, y/n,” he moved his head inches away from her face, but she wouldn’t listen. She’s just acting up!

Eddie pulled her off of the locker and then slammed her back into it, knocking the wind out of her. “You do this do yourself. It’s all you! If you would just shut up, keep your head down, and listen, you’d be fine,” Eddie’s mind started racing.

“But no. You walk around her, actin’ single and open when you’re not. I fucking calmed you! I came on your pretty little face every chance I got. You’re marked,” Eddie spilled his secrets.

“N-No,” y/n didn’t believe him. “Oh, yes, and I think you I would. Just look at me, baby,” Eddie said as he began slowly grinding himself on her. She moved her face to the side after his lips touched hers, but that didn’t stop him from moving back into her face.

“You do something to me, and you know it. That’s why you let me hang out with you at such a young age. You’re a fucking tease, and you’ve been teasing me for far too long,” Eddie said

Seconds later, Eddie threw the poor girl to the ground. She’s been such a brat. She needs to be taught. He can’t go through this life of not stuffing her like one of her stuffed animals.

“Eddie, we’re at school!” Y/n yelled whispered as she tried backing up, but he soon got on top of her. “Good. Let them watch me take your innocence. Let them see that the freak is the only one to fill this bratty cunt,” Eddie whispered in her ear before tugging at her clothes.

Eddie turned the poor girl around, hurting her knees, but he couldn’t care less. He’ll take care of her when he takes her home.

Y/n begged, hoping no one would hear them and come out to see this mess, but him on the other hand. He wants that. He wants them to watch her so corrupted on his cock. They need to see.

“Please, Eddie,” y/n’s eyes began to water. She should have known this would happen. She’s even dreamt and prayed for something like this to happen years ago, but now, she doesn’t know. Does she still feel the same?

“Fucking Christ, y/n. You’re such a fucking hassle,” Eddie forced the weak girl's skirt to her mid-through. “These fucking panties don’t make this better,” Eddie chuckled, seeing how puffy her cunt was. Her pretty wet cunt.

“I’m gonna fuck into this pretty thing while you keep it down. All you gotta do, baby, is keep it down,” Eddie whispered in the girl's ear as he slowly pulled her panties to the side.

He’s always wanted to fuck her in her uniform. After she made the cheer team, he just had to fuck her in this outfit.

“D-Don’t touch there,” y/n stuttered as Eddie reached into his jeans. “Oh, baby — You know I’ll do more than just touch you,” Eddie stroked his already so painfully hard cock. So painful.

“I’m gonna rip you in two in these high school hallways,” Eddie said before spitting in his hand to get himself wet. She’s wet enough, but he can’t take his time fucking her. He’s already around the corner from cuming.

“You ready baby?” Eddie asked, which remained y/n, she didn't even fight anymore. “No!” She began moving and giving Eddie a he’d time, once again hoch pissed him off quickly.

“Fuck, y/n! You’re so damn hardheaded!” Eddie grabbed the fighting girl's head, making her arch her back. “Ow!” Y/n whined. Eddie brought a heavy hand to her ass, slapping it a few times to shut her up.

“If you keep fuckin’ with me, I’ll give you a harder time at my house. Trust me, you will not handle a cock in your ass,” Eddie threatened. The girl didn’t completely stop fighting back, but she did calm down. She still whined, knowing she couldn’t stop this. Apart from her doesn’t want to stop it.

“Good girl,” Eddie Said as he slowly began pushing into the whining girl. “Agh, fuck! Fuck, you’re s-so fucking tight,” Eddie slightly moaned as he got deeper and deeper into her.

Y/n’s legs began to shake as the taller dude began thrusting his hips. “Yeah, just like that,” Eddie slowly moved in and out of y/n as she shook uncontrollably with her sweetest whines.

“So fucking wet, baby. I could drink you for days,” Eddie said in her ear as her clot began to swell. “Eddie,” she whined, eyes rolled back and fucked out like he wanted her. He’s waited so long to see his princess like this.

“Mhm, you like it? Like went Eddie fucks his cock into your innocent pussy?” Eddie kept his mouth so close to her ear as she slowly began rocking her hips back. “Yeah — So fucking desperate for a cock. Always knew you were a slut. Fuckin’ told ya,” Eddie spoke as he sped up.

“Aah!” Y/n moaned, trying to keep herself down as her cunt got louder and Eddie’s thrust got more aggressive. He wants to risk it all. “C’mon, baby! Let it out. They then hear you,” Eddie encouraged as he pulled her head back more.

“Let it out!” He demands with a slap on her bare ass. “No!” Y/n still thought she had a say in anything. “You’re gonna regret it,” Eddie growled in her ear before pushing her face to the ground.

The huge man kept a hand on her face, causing her back to arch then grabbed her waist. With that, he began to fuck into her inexperienced cunt like a fuck doll. He has to do it. He gave her no choice.

“Fuck, Eddie!” She cried out as her ass clapped back into Eddie’s. “Yeah,” Eddie growled, losing control of the way he fucks into her. He almost forgot she hadn’t done this before.

“Want me to slow down? Is my cock too much for your fucked our cunt?” Eddie asked as he leaned closer to her face. “Want daddy to hurry up and breed this little pussy, and make you his little girl forever?” Eddie asked Y/n, knowing she couldn’t respond back. He’s so good at this.

“Yeah, I know you do. You wanna be trapped with me. Want me to knock you up on school grounds for everyone to see,” Eddie felt himself getting close as y/n whined at the twitch of his cock.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie’s voice cracked as he slammed into her cunt to make her feel it all. She didn’t know how, but just at that, she came. She couldn’t hold it anymore. She tried her best, but she had to let it go.

“Ah huh! Ah huh!” Eddie’s thrusts stuttered until he finally buried himself so deep, he was sure she’d become pregnant. “Oh fuuck!” Eddie groans loudly, surprised that no one has come out yet.

“Oh my god,” y/n moaned as her juice leaned all over her skirt. “Oh fuck,” Eddie chuckled, feeling his cock twitching in her walls. He knows he’s not as empty as he wants to be. As soon as he takes her home, he’ll empty the rest.

“Fuck,” y/n whined low as Eddie slowly pulled out and y/n’s lower body slumped on the ground at how weak she was. Eddie admired the cum leaking out of her plumped cunt. He even thought about eating her out.

“P-Please,” y/n aimlessly said, so fucked out, she will not be able to walk. “I know, baby. It’s a lot. But remember how bad you were. You don’t get to rest today,” Eddie said in her ear.

Eddie fixed y/n and himself up before pulling y/n to her feet slowly. “You’re coming home with me, okay?” Eddie asked. “Okay,” y/n said low, wanting all this taking care of that he mentioned. “Good answer, princess,” Eddie kissed the girl's cheek.

After coming home from a long fuck session in the middle of their school hallway, Eddie couldn’t help himself. He let hit sweet girl rest next to him on his bed after he cleaned her up.

She begged him too much for him to say no. Y/n surpassingly gave him a peck, causing his eyes to water. He finally made it. All the days he’s stalked, perved, and even punished her not too long ago, he made it to the point he wanted to get to. Which is with her forever.

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foreingersgod · 9 days

Note

If you can could you do a Caitlin Clark x reader with angst? Thank youuu

votes are in! we’re going with angst to fluff for this one!

Regrets . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: caitlin says something to you during an argument that she immediately regrets

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

caitlin was a phenomenal athlete. she was good at what she did, blowing everyone away and breaking records, all while doing well in school and balancing the other parts of her life. you absolutely admired her for it, amazed by how perfect a person could be. she was so good to you, as her girlfriend, giving you equal support and love.

you on the other hand, were never an athlete, your dream was to pursue writing or journalism. you loved to write more than anything in the world and you knew from a very young age that that was what you wanted to do for the rest of your life. you often wrote small stories in your free time or touched up on trending articles, trying to write as much as you could. throughout your college years, you’ve been interning and taking classes to get you into a good position for your career.

you’ll admit, it was a very competitive career to go into, but you were determined to succeed. caitlin was always at your side, too, rooting for you every step of the way.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

it was a tuesday night, you were at home cleaning and fixing up dinner. caitlin was still out, something about a meeting with a few scouts. she didn’t say much about and said that she’d tell you all about it when she got home.

so you waited patiently, finishing up dinner and waiting for cait to get home. you pulled out your laptop while you awaited her arrival, beginning to work on an important paper you were writing for your journalism course. as you typed away at the keyboard, you felt your phone vibrate. you pulled out your phone, curious to see who was texting you.

cait <3: really big news when i get home, can’t wait to tell you

your heart started to beat a little faster, eager to hear what it was. you knew how hard she had been working to get the attention of some of these scouts so you hoped it was finally paying off for her.

as you were finishing up a paragraph for your article, you heard the lock of the front door jostling, hinges creaking as it opened. your eyes darted to the door right away, watching as caitlin walked in, positively glowing. she hung up her jacket and took off her shoes all with a huge smile on her face. you found yourself smiling too, her happiness contagious.

“hey, babe” you swooned “how was the meeting? big news?”

she came over to you, standing behind the counter opposite of you chair. “YN, it was life changing! you’re never gonna believe it, it’s like a dream come true”

her eyes were wide with excitement, still shaking from receiving the news. she had you anxious as you waited for her to spill. you closed your laptop half way to give her full attention, pushing it aside.

“what?” you questioned “the anticipation is killing me!”

“well,” she took a breathy pause for dramatic effect “a few of the scouts that i was talking to approached me after the meeting. they were telling me about how they’re recruiting for the women’s olympic basketball team…and long story short, they want me on the team! baby im playing in the olympics!”

“holy shit, you’re kidding!” you leaped out of your seat, rushing around the counter to congratulate her “that’s amazing, oh my god, i’m so proud of you!”

you hugged her tightly, smoothing your hands across her back.

“thank you, i’m freaking out still, it’s so surreal” she felt like crying “we’re going paris, YN!”

she was still on cloud nine, starting to text friends and family to share the good news, but you had stepped back thinking you heard her wrong. you? the both of you? paris? while you were aware that the events would be an international occasion, you hadn’t realized it would be that far away. you had just assumed you would do a bit of long distance for the time being, caitlin going to play and you staying here to take care of things and focus on journalism. noticing you had pulled away, caitlin sent her last text and turned back to you.

“hey are you ok?” she asked “went all quiet on me”

“hm? oh yea i just,” you started picking at your nails, nervous to bring up the conversation “it’s just that you said ‘we’?”

her infectious laugh rang through your living room “of course, you’re my girl, i want you there with me”

“cait, you know i’d love to be there for you in person and come with but…but i can’t just go babe” you said, apologetically.

your entire soul shattered seeing the look on her face as you broke the news. she looked defeated, trying to laugh it off as a weird joke “what do you mean you can’t go?”

“don’t get upset” you said, sensing the tension growing “but a trip like that is expensive, and there’s things that i need to take care of, especially if you’re going to be gone…and i’m just in the middle of a really important part of my path in writing…i need to be able to focus on that right now. but we can do it, you know? we’d only be doing the long distance thing for a little bit!”

“are you serious?” she tried to keep her voice calm, instead raising it slightly “this is a huge deal for me and you don’t even want to be there with me?”

“that’s not true! i would do anything to go, but like i said, that’s an insanely expensive trip and i’m in the middle of trying to pursue this journalism thing so i-”

“you’re not going so you can write your silly papers?” she ridiculed “fine, it’s expensive, we can work around that, but you’re seriously telling me you’re not doing this so you can write?”

you were dumbfounded, her calling your passion just some ‘silly papers’ made you sick. you’ve been pushing yourself to every possible limit to work towards this, and you thought she was supportive of that, i guess this was bringing out her true colors.

“silly papers? caitlin, pursuing journalism is my dream, you know that” your nose scrunching in frustration “i’ve always been supportive of your dream, i’m constantly putting my own things aside so you can continue to do this”

“yea well that’s because i’m actually good at what i do” she snapped. her voice was laced with spite, gaze shooting daggers into yours. “i’ve got a real job, with real responsibilities, YN”

your body was frozen, feet glued to the ground, limbs unable to move. the way she was talking to you hurt, any support that you thought she had for you was gone out the window. you wanted to scream, storm out of the house and slam the door.

“that’s really what you think, hm?” you sneered “that i don’t have a real job? that i’m not good at the one thing i’m passionate about? jesus fucking christ caitlin.”

somewhere in your body, you found the courage to move. without letting her get another word in, you grabbed your laptop and stormed up the stairs into your shared bedroom. she could sleep on the couch tonight.

the second you made it up the stairs, you slammed the door and collapsed onto your bed. you were seething with rage. for her to stand in front of you, after you’ve put your heart and soul into helping caitlin succeed, was like a punch to the gut. she knew how hard you had been working to make this happen, how many classes and workshops, how many late nights and meetings with publishers. she knew about it all and she still had the audacity to say such a nasty thing.

you pulled the comforter up over your shoulders, hiding below it, and sobbed in your pillow. you didn’t even bother trying to finish your article tonight, your headache too painful from the tears. about an hour went by, you had assumed, the sun going down outside your bedroom window. not once did you hear anything from caitlin so you thought she had left to blow off steam or made herself comfortable on the couch.

then there was a knock at your bedroom door. she didn’t have to knock, in reality, it was her room too. you didn’t answer at the raps at the door, nor when she called out your name. you didn’t have anything to say.

“YN, can we talk?” her voice muffled from behind the wooden barrier “i shouldn’t have said those things, i didn’t mean it”

you stood up, opening the door for her and resuming your position on the bed, pulling up the covers once more. she followed suit and sat down at the foot of the bed next to you. still silent, you waited for her to continue.

“what i said was uncalled for” her voice cutting through deafening silence “none of it was true”

“so why’d you say it?” she could tell you had been crying right away, hearing the stuffiness in your nose. it made her stomach turn knowing she was the reason why.

“i was mad. the second i got the news, all i could think about was taking you with me. i had the whole thing planned out. but i didn’t even consider what it would mean for you, to drop everything and go to paris with me. and that was incredibly unfair of me to assume.”

you remained silent, listening to her confession.

“baby, i don’t think your papers are silly and i don’t think it’s not a real job” her hands found the way to your legs under the blanket, rubbing at them tenderly to try and comfort you “i’m so amazed by how talented you are. you’ve put in so much effort into making a name for yourself and i admire you for that, i know you’re going to do amazing things. what i said was cruel and purely out of spite and it won’t ever happen again, i’m so sorry”

you sniffled, wiping the rest of your tears as you sat up against the headboard. she had looked horrible when you looked at her. hair messy from running her hands through it, face pale and flushed, it didn’t take much to realize how bad she felt for lashing out at you.

“i know you’re mad, and i’m upset that i can’t go either,” you spoke up “but if you’re going to make a habit out of saying things like that to me, i don’t know if-”

“i swear to god i’m not! that was a shitty slip up, but please, i’m being honest when i say that i’ll never do that again. i have never once believed that what i said was true, im so so sorry” she pleaded, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of your palm.

“i forgive you, but it’s going to take a lot for you to make it up to me”

“anything, i’ll do anything” she said “i can’t live with myself knowing that i made you upset. whatever it takes to gain your trust back, i’ll fucking do it”

you let out a small chuckle, knowing the real cait was already shining through. the caitlin that would go to the ends of the earth for you. her hand was still gripping yours, drawing small shapes around your knuckles and kissing them reassuringly. you tugged her towards you making her fall into the sheets beside you. you reached out, caressing her long strands of hair, silently admiring her.

the two of you remained there in bed without saying anything. the sun lingered in its final hour in the sky as you both soaked in each other’s presence.

you couldn’t stay mad at her for long.

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #wcbb #wcbb x reader #iowa wbb

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literaila · 8 months

Note

verity what would you think about writing another peter x reader in which peter becomes a photographer and has to take pictures of reader and he develops a thing for her and he thinks that reader just flirts with him for fun and he's totally okay with that because he's a fool for her but after teasing peter and messing with him for a good amount of time she asks him out ? maybe inspired by "suck it and see" by arctic monkeys? thank you !!

chemistry

tasm!peter x fem!reader

a/n: the science jokes are real with this one

peter needed to get over himself. that much was clear.

honestly, he had the ability to rip out his eyes and throw them down the garbage disposal, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that he might have to. just to get some sanity back.

it wasn’t really his fault he was staring at you. no, it wasn’t his fault at all.

he was getting paid to stare at you. you had hired him to do this. to take pictures of you when you looked like this—partially glowing from the light, wearing a devious smile like you might be trying to crack his lens—and not get called a pervert for it.

his movements were automatic now. he’d done this enough—admired strangers and tried to pull the best out of them—but it was never quite like this. with every click of a button, and the perfectly adjusted flash, peter felt himself getting a bit hazy.

it would be his luck to faint while taking pictures of a pretty girl.

a pretty girl who’s head was tilted at him, eyes questioning, because she’d just said something and he was too busy scolding himself to notice

get yourself together.

“hmm?” peter asked, moving a step closer to you. “sorry i missed it.”

you smile like he’s said something funny. “should i try something else?” you say, “i’m not used to posing.”

“you’re doing great. you’re a natural.”

maybe a little too great. you blink at him, eyes darting away and sigh. even then, if peter took a photo, he’s sure it would come out perfectly. he probably wouldn’t need to edit any of these, even.

but he also probably would. just to stare at you some more.

“well, you’re the expert.”

but peter frowns. “are you feeling uncomfortable?”

“just—“ you shake your head. “will you tell me a joke, or something? i feel… awkward. i have no idea what i’m doing.”

“tell you a joke?” peter repeats, slightly amused.

“or just talk to me. anything.”

“sure,” he says, easily, nodding his head a bit too much. maybe it’s because you sort of whispered it, and peter sort of felt it on every single on of his nerve endings. “i, um,” he raises his brows. “i think i just forgot every joke i’ve ever heard.”

you laugh with your head tilted back and he snaps a shot. “just tell me about you, then.”

“me?”

“yes, peter parker, the photographer… and? part time comedian? full time alcoholic? father of six?”

peter frowns. “how old do you think i am?“

“old enough to be a professional photographer.”

“i don’t know if i would call myself a professional…” he winces, smiling a bit and feeling embarrassed for himself. flushed and completely ashamed because he’s usually better at this.

he can calm a clients nerves in five minutes. he can make people laugh and get the candid shot that he knows they’re looking for. he can turn an awkward social interaction into getting drinks after a shoot.

but there’s something about you and your smile, and the easy way you talk, like the words just fall out of your mouth and into place.

“i saw your prints,” you correct, shaking your head at him, “why do you think i hired you?”

“free eye candy?”

and then you actually laugh, chest releasing, and peter watches as your eyes squint at him like you’ve finally realized who you’re talking to.

it’s second nature when he presses the button.

“oh, yeah. i just googled ‘hottest male photographer in queens’ and yours was the first that came up.”

“i knew that ad would pay off eventually.”

“really, though. i’ve only got you for another twenty minutes so you’ve gotta tell me something good.”

peter frowns and moves to your left, changing the zoom on his camera and dimming the light. “i didn’t know you were paying for a gossip session.”

“okay, so you don’t like to talk about yourself. what else?”

he catches you as you adjust your hair, the light shining on the side of your face, gleaming off of you like something out of a sci-fi film.

peter shakes his head—his head is feeling a bit off. “um… i want to get a cat.”

you smile, completely darling and enough to knock a breath out of his chest. “i’ll add caring to the list. why haven’t you?”

“well, my apartment doesn’t really allow it…” he pauses for a moment playing with some settings. the two of you are dancing in circles, like a pendulum, when you move, he moves. “and also i’m not sure that i’d remember to feed it.”

“most animals make sure you remember. when i was a kid my dog would jump on whoever was closest when it was time for dinner.”

peter almost winces, and then catches himself. “i also think i’d poison it with my energy. it’d forget how to move its tail.”

“well, i’ve been around you for almost an hour and a half now and i can safely say that i still have control over all of my limbs.”

“good to know…” peter mutters while frowning at his screen. there’s nothing wrong with his camera, or with you, just with his hands. and his heart.

“everything okay?”

he shakes his head, then nods, clearing his throat. “yeah—yeah. i’m just messing with the settings.”

“are you getting anything good? useable?”

“they’re all good,” he says—to himself and out loud like a complete idiot. and then he looks up, awkwardly laughing. “like i said, you’re a natural.”

“even if you’re lying,” you tease, undeterred by his awkwardness, “i’m sure you’ll fix it all before i see.”

“i’m not lying, but yeah.”

when you smile, he smiles back.

“okay,” you say, moving. “what else? got any friends or family? any plans after this?”

“which question am i supposed to answer?”

“all of them, peter.”

he chuckles. “it’s mostly just me and my aunt. and a couple of long lost cousins. as for friends, i’ve kept in touch with some people from college. oh, and me and the john down the street who makes me a sandwich everyday are close.”

you lift your head, revealing the skin of your neck and jaw to peter. and a fetish he didn’t know he had. “and after this?”

“i’ll probably just go home and edit these, actually.”

“it’s friday.”

he shrugs. squinting at you before the next shot. he’s not even really looking.

“nothing fun?” you ask him. “surely you’ll be sick of my face after this.”

“that’d be hard.”

he watches a sheepish smile reveal itself on your face before it’s gone. you look away. “you’re young, peter. you should be having fun.”

“what are you doing after this?” peter asks, as a challenge.

your brows lift. “this seems like a line.”

he laughs. “not like that.”

you shrug and blink when the flash goes off. “i’ll figure out something. are there any good bars nearby?”

peter pauses, dropping his camera. “are we back to the alcoholic thing.”

“no,” you laugh, “we’re way past that. i just think that your flash is giving me a bit of an adrenaline rush. i could use a calm me down.”

“you okay?”

“i’m kidding, peter. keep going, you’re almost a free man.”

so he does.

you continue to prod him with personal questions, attacking him with your smile and your unsurprisingly sharp wit. you throw his words right back to him, and peter knows, in his deepest of thoughts, that he’s going to be hearing your voice later on.

that when he’s looking back on these pictures, he’s going to see a timeline of your allure, and of his own demise.

he’s already loving and dreading it.

he finishes up by making you laugh from your nose, loud and unprecedented, and so genuinely rewarding that peter has to refrain from clapping himself on the back.

you smile at him as you slip on your jacket, still talking to him, acting too smooth to be just polite.

peter also has to refrain himself from trying to shake your head as he walks you to the door. he tries not to stare any longer, knowing what kind of night he has in store.

“when should i be seeing the pictures?” you ask him, lingering when you finally get to the door.

“sometime next week. i’ll email you a preview with a few different editing styles that you can pick from and then i’ll finish the album.”

“email?”

he scoffs, opening the door for you. “i’ll have you know that not everyone is as young and hip as you. do you know how many grandparents want photos with their family?”

“it just doesn’t seem like you, peter. i’d thought you’d train a carrier pigeon.”

he shakes his head at you, trying to hide his smile.

“but, seriously, thank you so much,” you say to him, voice full and easy, and honest. he can feel your heart and smell your perfume. “i know i’m a lot. especially when i’m nervous.”

“i’m just glad you didn’t ask me about my social security number.”

you reflectively smack yourself on the forehead. “i knew i forgot something.”

peter laughs, letting you slip past him trying to avoid your touch. he doesn’t, and if benjamin franklin was there, he might’ve discovered a whole different type of electricity.

“i’ll talk to you soon,” peter says, and your close enough that it’s almost a whisper. “just let me know if there’s any issues with the pictures, or you have any questions. you’ve got my number.”

“i do.”

his body feels physically repelled from inside the studio, but he forces himself to take a step in anyway. “have a good weekend.”

“you too.”

and then you turn to go, and peter can’t help but stare. he hopes that the tint on the shop windows is enough to keep you from noticing.

but before he can close the door—and mind that it took him an outrageously stupid amount of time—you’re turning back around.

“wait, peter,” you say, voice breathless and jagged. like peters hands as they rush to push open the door again.

it’s embarrassing how quickly he manages to do it.

“yes?”

you smile, like you know exactly what he’s thinking. peter will have that smile branded into his brain.

“do you wanna come with me to get that drink?” you ask him, softly, and wide, with a smile that bursts blood vessels.

peter really needs to get over himself.

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erooca · 9 months

Text

daycare

ellie williams x reader

description: ellie williams is forced to take a shift at a daycare. she knows she’s gonna hate it, that is, until she sees you. 1.9k words

this is very self indulgent cuz i work at a daycare. i’d be so down to continue this storyline if it gets any interactions :)

part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/erooca/725335248989208576/daycare-pt-2

why the fuck am i here? is exactly what ellie was thinking, pulling into the small, but cheery daycare. it was 9:30 in the fucking morning. she should still be asleep, not getting prepared to run around with little kids for the next eight hours.

after feeling sorry for herself a bit longer, she turned off the ignition and headed into the double doors.

“good morning, ellie!” maria said with a bright smile. ellie almost rolled her eyes at the enthusiasm. maria was sitting behind the front desk, clicking away on the computer in front of her.

“morning,” ellie responded back, a complete opposite from the way maria had greeted her.

“i know i’ve already thanked you a million times, but seriously. thank you for coming in,” maria thanked.

right. the reason ellie was here in the first place. maria had mentioned how the daycare she owned was extremely understaffed recently and needed all the help she could get. of course, joel offered up ellie as help. he said it would be good for her. ellie would have shut them both down, but maria mentioned how much she’d pay ellie. ellie was sold.

“yeah,” ellie responded, still not happy about the experience.

“listen, ellie, as soon as i get some more workers you’ll be free to go,” maria comforted.

“i know. so what am i gonna be doing?” ellie asked, praying to whatever’s out there that she won’t have to change any diapers.

“i think i’m going to put you in the big three’s. it’s a good group of kids, so don’t stress. it’s just down that hallway. second door on the right.”

ellie nodded her head and set off to the room. she already knew she was about to have the most frustrating and long shift of her entire life.

as she walked down the hallway, she admired the kids’ art that was strung on the walls. she noticed more of it around the big three’s door. she took a deep breath, and then entered through the door.

and then she saw you. you were kneeled down, ground level with a little girl who was crying. she watched as you gave the little girl a big hug, and how you helped her focus on the tower she was building with the colorful blocks.

when you finished calmed down the kid, you spotted ellie. maria told you that you’d be having another teacher today, but she never mentioned that teacher would be fine as fuck.

“hey. ellie, right?” you asked.

“um.. yeah,” she answered.

you introduced yourself to her and the room.

“they’re doing centers right now. you should go around and try to get to know some of the kids. once we have circle time, we can do proper introductions. that sound okay?” you suggested.

“sure..” ellie said. you could sense the nervousness radiating off of her.

“don’t stress. these kids are fun to be around. at least most of the time. let me know if you need anything,” you encouraged.

she nodded her head and looked around the room. from what she could see, the centers included music, blocks, art, math, science, and a play kitchen.

of course, she felt inclined to visit the art table first. there was only about three kids over there, and it was a topic she knew pretty well. was she overthinking this? probably.

she took a seat on the uncomfortably small chair in front of the table. immediately, the three kids looked up at her.

“hi! what’s your name?” a girl with short brown hair asked her.

“ellie,” she answered, then realized she should probably talk a bit more, “um what’s yours?”

“pippa,” she answered, putting away the green crayon in exchange for a red one.

“what are you drawing?” ellie asked, looking at the mound of colors on the girl’s paper.

“my family!” pippa smiled, “that’s my mommy, and that’s my kitty kat, and that’s daddy!”

to ellie, it looked more like scribbles of different colors, but nonetheless she praised the girl for her creativity.

she felt a light tap on her arm and when she turned she was met with a shy looking boy. he had black braids in his hair and wore a toy story themed shirt.

“hi.” ellie said to the boy.

“can you draw me something?” he asked, handing her his blank sheet of paper.

“okay..” she said, taking the paper from him, “what should i draw?”

the boy thought for a minute, “ooo, i know! a dinosaur!!” he said, excitedly.

this request made ellie’s smile grow. of course she could draw him a motherfucking dinosaur.

“what’s your name?” she asked him.

“king!” he replied, awaiting his dinosaur.

as she drew, king watched intently, and once pippa noticed ellie was drawing, she started watching too.

when ellie was finished, she gave it back to king.

“woah!!! it’s a t-rex! i’m gonna color him green!” he said.

“ellie. can you draw me a mermaid?” pippa asked her.

ellie obliged and soon she had a good line of kids asking her to draw things for them.

as she was working on her third princess drawing, she heard you singing the clean up song.

she didn’t have chance to admire how beautiful your voice was before the kids started singing along. the three year olds started cleaning up their messes and ellie helped them out.

you had them gather on the carpet, where you finally introduced ellie as their new teacher (for the time being). you watched as ellie awkwardly smiled and you had to hold in a laugh.

after doing a couple songs and shit with the kids, they all went outside and played on the playground.

you took this opportunity to talk to ellie.

“hey, so, how you liking it so far?” you asked her, curiously.

“i thought i’d hate it, but it’s actually not too bad,” she said, glancing over at you with a smile. you swear you almost passed out right there.

“haha, yeah. it can take a second to get used to. you’re lucky they didn’t put you with the two year olds. those children make me want to quit my job,” you laughed, “so you know maria?”

“yeah. she’s sort of my- aunt-in-law - i guess?” ellie said, trying to find the right words.

“really? tommy must be your uncle then. gonna be honest, maria scares me,” you admitted.

ellie laughed, and your heart skipped a beat.

“pretty sure tommy feels the same way. she’s not bad once you get passed the cold exterior. how long you been working here?” ellie asked, intrigued to know more about you.

“about a year. its just a steady job while i’m in college,” you answered.

“you’re in college. where do you go?” she asked.

“jackson state!”

“no way, me too. you on campus?”

“yeah, campbell north.”

“no fucking way-“ ellie said, but caught herself, “shit-SHOOT, no freaking way. i dorm there too.”

after you laughed at her slip up, you continued your sweet conversation with her. you felt like you’re falling in love with her by the second, and little to your knowledge, she’s was feeling the same way.

“do you have any favorites yet?” you asked.

“um.. i like king. he’s sweet,” ellie answered, thinking back to the dinosaur drawing.

“yeah. he’s really smart too. he’s actually in the foster care system and can be a bit sensitive about it. try not to mention moms or dads around him,” you told her.

this struck a chord in ellie. she had been in foster care a long time before joel came along. she knew exactly what it was like for king. she hopes he will be as fortunate as her in the future.

when the time came, you and ellie corralled all the kids back into the room. there was a cart at the front of their door that had lunch on it. you explained to ellie that you guys will have to make the plates and then hand them out, same with the milk.

you passed out the plates to each kid who was sitting down at the small tables, while ellie came behind with the bowls of food, placing a nice scoop on each child’s paper plate.

you went to start pouring the milk but soon got distracted. you couldn’t help but watch ellie as her lean figure slid around the room. you liked the way she kneeled down when a child was asking her a question, acting as if that child were her equal. you studied how her hair was sticking up a bit on the sides, probably from being outside and running around with the three year olds. most of all, you loved how she was smiling. how it seemed that she was enjoying herself. the beautiful curve up of her lips was enough for your heart to beat at a rapid pace.

you snapped out of your trance when you saw ellie look up at you. you flicked your head away before she could catch you staring (even though she definitely did and you knew it too). you started actually doing your job and pouring the milk for your children.

as the day went on, ellie was very fond of learning more about you. you both spent nap time learning new things. when ellie told you how much she loved space, you told her how you thought you could be the first person to pluto as a kid, since it was your favorite planet. you guys talked about your favorite constellations and which ones you spot first. you told her how much you liked to read and shared your favorite stories with her. you asked what maria was like at thanksgiving dinner.

you were sat together against the wall, just chatting. the lullaby music played on the tv. the lights were off and curtains were closed. the three year olds were all asleep. ellie was all to yourself right now. you were so starstruck with how easily your conversation flowed. she sat with her knees up, resting ur arms on them as she looked at you. you could see glint in her eyes, even in the dark room. it made you like her even more.

once the kids woke up, it was less talking and more working, much to your disappointment. the rest of the day went by smoothly. you did a fun craft with the children that they enjoyed, and ended the day with tv time. once the number of kids got lower, maria came in to let ellie know she could go home.

“well. i hope all these kids didn’t scare you off. will you- be here tomorrow?” you asked with a hopeful look on her face.

ellie chuckled, “some of them are a bit scary, but they didn’t. i think i will be here tomorrow, but only so i can see you again though,” ellie smirked.

once her words sunk in, your cheeks turned a blushy color. no way the new, hot teacher just flirted with you. you stammered a bit but regained your ground.

“looking forward to it, ellie. have a good night,” you smiled brightly.

ellie have you a slight smile and a wave before walking out the door. you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. holy shit were you in deep.

ellie joyfully said bye to maria, earning her a weird look. she felt on cloud nine as she walked to her car. the day went better than she could’ve ever expected. she was already making a mental list on ways she could win you over.

maybe this daycare job won’t be so bad. is exactly what ellie was thinking as she drove away.

#ellie x reader #tlou x reader #tlou 2 ellie #tlou part 2 #tlou 2 x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fanfic #the last of us #the last of us p2 #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #tlou2 ellie

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abbyromanoff · 1 year

Note

Can I request GP college Emo Wanda x cam girl reader where Wanda jerks off to the videos, then reader holds a contest for one of her viewers to meet up with her and have dinner if they donate the most money and Wanda ends up winning and they go out to dinner and reader teases Wanda the entire time making Wanda frustrated so they have rough but passionate sex in Wanda’s dorm room afterwards. (with praise, daddy kink and scratching [ r to wanda] ;) and face sitting if that’s ok <3

My Girl

Pairings: g!p Wanda Maximoff x reader

Summary: Quite literally the ask just written onto a doc

Word count: 3170

Warnings: daddy kink, smut, belly bulges, face riding, scratching, Wanda has a penis, degrading, praising, kinda public sex, fingering, mentions of free use and cnc

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

Wanda huffed as she threw her books down and got out her laptop. Her professor would not stop giving her shit today and she was pissed off. Opening the electronic she locked the door to her dorm and tore off her jeans. She sat back down onto the bed and scrolled onto your account, her favorite. Every week that you posted she’d be the first one on, commenting whenever she could and replaying every video she could. Finding the most recent one she clicked on it, seeing you using a large dildo on your pussy with a butt plug inside of your tight ass.

Pulling out her semi-hard cock she started a slow pace with her hand, her thumb brushing against the tip every time she reached it. “Mm, such a little slut aren’t you? You wanted me to see you, didn’t you? You knew I’d be watching you, you waited for me like the good little girl you are.” She spoke into the empty room. Your moans filled her ears as it brought her closer to the edge, only a few minutes in and she was already about to cum.

“Look at that sweet little pussy, so ready for me. Wish I could fill it up, wish I could just slide right inside of that tight little hole and use you.” She whispered out once again. She’d always imagined you could hear her, she liked to picture it was your hand instead of her own wrapped around her length. You moaning beneath her as she used you for her own pleasure, not caring if you’re overstimulated but just wanting to make herself feel good.

She soon came into her hand as you finished around the large silicone dildo, she knew she could make you feel better than that stupid toy. Groaning, she felt unsatisfied. No matter how much she could finish onto her hand from watching you it always made her realize just how lonely she truly was. If she was being completely honest, she wanted you. She could care less about any of the other girls in her classes, all she wanted and needed was you.

She scrolled through your account some more, trying to see if you posted anything else in the past day. When she saw what you wrote in your bio she gained hope, ‘Whoever donates the most money on the next stream at 2:00 PM on Tuesday will receive a free dinner with me and maybe even a dessert ;)’ it read. She quickly looked up her bank account and realized just how little she had, no wonder why, she was a college student. Although, she did have a job. Texting her boss with a small ‘Will I be able to pick up some extra shifts for a few days?’ Before putting her phone down and doing her schoolwork. The entire day she couldn’t stop thinking about that, her whole week was spent thinking about you and you only.

Tuesday finally came and she prepared herself, saving the perfect amount of money for you. At 2 PM she scrolled onto your account and reloaded until she saw your face. A small smile took over her face when seeing you, you were even more beautiful than she pictured. In your videos she could barely ever see your face but now, now she could see you in your full glory. People already started spitting out cash the second they joined while Wanda was too focused staring at you. Getting out of her trance, she made her first donation of one hundred dollars and you thanked her, causing her to smile at the thought. For the entire two hours Wanda continued giving you her money to stay at the top, which she did. Before the live ended you gave a shout out to her, or to ‘ScarletW01’ as that was her username. She waited for you to text her impatiently and when you finally did, she almost immediately replied. You both fell into a small conversation as you got to know one another better, wanting to make sure she wasn’t a random old creep. She later found out that you lived only six miles from her dorm and you both decided on a restaurant to go to later that week.

She couldn’t stop thinking about it. If she had to go another day waiting she would lose her mind. But the day was finally here, the day where she would take you out to dinner and hopefully woo you enough to spend the night.

“Okay, which looks better, black or red?” She asked her roomate who at this point was most likely sick of hearing her. Agatha sighed and turned her body to look, ditching her notes for what felt like the thirtieth time in the past hour.

“They both look like shit but I guess the red matches you more.” Wanda sighed, aggravated with the womans words. “Agatha, you’re not helping here. I really like this person and I want to impress them so can you please just help me find something? Anything?” Agatha groaned but agreed, walking to her roomates closet and looking for what might look best.

She spent a good five minutes of tossing around clothes before she finally found the one, a red jacket along with a low, black dress that showed cleavage. “Perfect. I know you can’t live without this stupid coat so, here. It will show her that you’re not trying too hard but also that you try hard enough to impress her.” Wanda had no clue what she meant but rolled with it anyway, adding her jewlery and makeup to finish off the look. Brushing her hair a tad bit more she looked herself over in the mirror, trying to find her best angle.

“Okay Wanda, you got this. It’s not difficult, it’s just a date. Just a date, that’s it.” She tried reassuring to herself, still not believing a word she said. When her timer went off she said her goodbyes to Agatha who whished her luck, closing the door behind her as she jogged out of the building.

When she arrived at the restaurant she took a quick glance around and found someone sitting at a double table, it was you. She took a deep breath and walked your way, giving a small tap to your shoulder to gain your attention.

You turned around and were greeted by the sight of probably the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. “H-hey, Wanda right? I’m Y/N, which you probably already know, sorry.” You say, catching yourself rambling slightly. You don’t mean to be so nervous, but this woman already had an effect on you. She smiled at your words and quickly took her seat across from you. “Yeah, that’s me. Uh, thank you for this, I kind of haven’t been able to stop thinking about you ever since last week.” That was sort of the truth, she hadn’t stopped thinking about you for what seemed like months now.

You blushed slightly, opening your mouth to say something until you guys’ waiter appeared, asking if you two would need more time or if you’re ready to order. You ordered a small glass of wine while Wanda ordered some lemon water, still not legally being able to drink.

“No alcohol for you, huh?” Wanda laughed lightly before giving a response, “Nope. I’m only twenty so I have to wait a few more months until I can start ordering it at a restaurant.” You nodded in understanding and got back into a conversation. You were shocked at how nice she truly was, when you held the contest you expected some douche who’d just want to get into your pants but Wanda actually seemed interested in you. She listened to every word you said intently and even voiced her own opinions occasionally. This was already your best date you’ve ever had.

When the food was delivered shortly after the drinks, you started your fun. Using your heeled foot lightly rub against her exposed leg. You exaggerated moans when eating your food and noticed her face turning a small shade of red. Going back into small talk, you asked about her family and personal life, as she did with you previously. Your foot continued to stroke her own leg, starting to go higher and higher until you reached her inner thighs. Her breathing was uneasy and she could feel her growing erection in her pants.

“Is something bothering you Wanda?” You asked teasinly, faking a pout as you used your pity voice. She stared at you with pure lust and muttered out a ‘lets go, we’re leaving’ before dragging you out of the place, leaving a one-hundred dollar bill on the table to cover the cost.

“You wanna act like a slut, I’ll treat you like a slut.” She said, pushing you up against her car door and rubbing her hard on against your backside. You let out a whimper when she ran the pads of her fingers over your covered core, tracing your clit lightly as she watched you squirm beneath her.

“Oh you like that? You like when daddy puts her little whore back into place?” The title she gave herself made you even wetter, by now there had to be a small wet spot on your panties.

“Daddy, please not here. People can see.” You whispered out into the cold air. The woman behind you chuckled dryly as her digits sped up in pace, starting to move your underwear to the side so she could finally slip inside your tight hole.

“What, you don’t want everyone seeing how dirty my perfect little girl is?” Before you could respond, her middle finger finally entered your awaiting pussy. She started with a slow pace, soon gaining the courage to speed up and truly fuck you. You body was slammed against the car as your breasts slid up and down on the window slightly.

“Daddy! You fuck me so good- oh!” You were cut short of a sentence as she found that spongey spot inside of you, the one that drove you nuts. Before you could let out a loud moan her neglected fingers filled your mouth as she hit the back of your throat.

“That’s it baby, take me all down your throat like you did with that dildo last week. Did you really think I wouldn’t see? That I wouldn’t see how you were basically begging for me to fuck your throat till you were drooling all over me?” Wanda knew it wasn’t just for her. She knew that before this you barely even knew her, that the videos weren’t meant for her pleasure but for everyones. The thought caused a small pain to the heart but she quickly regained herself, focusing on making you feel good. She could tell you were getting close, she could feel the way you clenched and throbbed around her. She pulled her digits out of you, licking them clean before opening the car door and rushing you in, desperate to get home and fuck you properly. You had no time to protest as her hand went to place itself onto your inner thigh, almost like how you did earlier to her.

“Wanda-” “Don’t. Just because I’m not railing you senseless doesn’t mean you don’t call me daddy. Trust me, you’ll be screaming it sooner than later.” You gulped fearfully and leaned back into the seat, getting ready for a torturous ride.

By the time you arrived it was already almost midnight, the campus lights were off and only a few dorms had a yellow glow in them. Wanda walked you to her dorm, slamming you against her door when she finally reached it. She struggled to unlock it and had to pull away just to make sure her key went in right. You could tell she seemed embarrassed but it quickly faded once she got her hands back onto you. The woman pulled you into the small room and pushed you down onto the bed, climbing on top of you quickly. She quickly removed her jacket and threw it across the room somewhere, taking your shirt to join the growing pile.

“Daddy wants to make you feel good tonight, will you let her? Will you let daddy play with you all night till you cum all over her?” She asked, already knowing the answer. Your rapid nod wasn’t enough for her as she gave a small smack to your face, repeating her last sentence once again.

“Yes daddy. You can use me however you want, I promise I’ll be good.” Your seeminly innocent tone made Wanda want to destroy you right then and there. Groaning, she grabbed you by the chin, pulling you close to her and forcing you to make eye contact.

“Yeah? You’ll be good for me? You’ll let me prove that I can be better than any of those stupid toys you use?” She didn’t let you answer before she moved herself off of you and removed every article of clothing you had, getting rid of her own soon after.

“Yes! I promise I’ll do whatever you want. I just want your cock so bad.” You whined desperatly, hoping she’d pitty you enough to give you what you wanted. She chuckled and layed down on the bed, patting the spot next to her as a signal for you to join her. At first you were confused, that was until she grabbed your leg and draped it over her awaiting mouth, leaving your pussy on full display. You looked down at her with a shocked expression, honestly surprised that she wanted you to ride her face.

“Now baby, I want you to watch me as I lick your pretty little pussy. And I don’t want you to cum until I tell you that you can do so, understood?” You answered her question quickly and she dove into your wet cunt, licking and sucking anywhere she could. She moaned into you as she stuck her tongue into your hole, her mouth exploding at the new found taste.

“Mmm, you taste so fucking good baby, I can’t stop.” She mumbled into your pussy, going right back in the moment she finished speaking. You held eye contact with her like she asked, slightly bucking your hips up when her nose made contact with your clit.

“Daddy! I need to cum so bad, wanna cum all over your face, please!” The woman didn’t give a response as she was too engrosed in the flavor of your juices in her mouth. She shook her head back and forth to stimulate you more, the wet noises echoing throughout the bland room. The woman finally leaned back to talk, “Of course princess, I want you to squirt all in my mouth. I want to feel you finish on top of me.” The moment she finished speaking, you came. You finally got that release you’ve been wanting for the past hour. She soaked in the moment, letting you ride out your high while you continued basking in the feeling. You yelled out her name repeatedly until you finally calmed down, slowly moving yourself off of her and admiring her soaked face. You brought yourself down to meet her, your noses brushing against one another slightly before you started licking the juices off of her. She moaned as your mouth trailed all over her, grinding your already sensitive pussy onto her crotch.

“Daddy, too sensitive.” You whined out, already feeling that coil in your stomach once again. She shook her head repeatedly before finally responding, “No, no, no princess. I know you can take it, I thought you were my good girl, I guess you don’t want to be my sweet little angel anymore.”

“N-no daddy, I’ll be good! I need your cock please, I need it in my pussy.” She finally complied and lined herself up with your hole, rubbing your clit with the tip before slipping insde of you. Your breath got caught in your throat as she lowered you down until you were at the base of her cock.

“‘M so full daddy!” She groaned at the thought, noticing a small bulge outlined on your lower stomach. Using her hand to grab your hips, she guided you to go back and forth slowly while keeping her eyes on the imprint.

When she heard your moans she flipped you over almost immediately, wrapping your legs around her shoulders to find a new angle. Feeling your hands lay on her back and grasping the muscles that laid upon it. You scratched down her back harshly, leaving red marks and a little bit of blood behind. Wanda never thought someone scraping her back would turn her on this much but it did, it felt heavenly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your mouth went wide open.

“Mmm, daddy’s little brainless slut, aren’t you? My cock feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? You can’t even think straight anymore.” She muttered into your ear, feeling you clench around her desperately.

“Mhm, I’m your brainless little slut daddy! I’m whatever you want me be, I’ll be your fuck toy.” She could’ve came on the spot, your words were affecting her more than she wanted to admit. “Yeah? You wanna be my fucking toy? I’ll use you whenever I want, I don’t care if you don’t want it I’ll fuck this sweet little cunt anyways. You’ll be my own personal fleshlight, you’ll please me whenever I want, won’t you?” You nodded faster than you could think. The coil in your stomach was about to snap any minute as was Wanda’s.

“I’m gonna cum in this tight little pussy, I’m gonna fill it up with my cum.” She knew you wanted it, you’d take whatever she gave you without complaint. You nodded once again, being too fucked out to even speak. You felt spurts of hot liquid fill you as you finally let yourself go once again. This had to be the best orgasom you’ve ever had, none of the hook-ups or toys could even come close. Wanda whispered out sweet words as you two slowed down to a hilt. She started to pull out until your whines filled the quiet room, stopping what she was doing and stilling herself inside of you.

“You okay? I didn’t hurt you, right?” You shook your head and brought her head back into your neck, wrapping your arms around her neck and holding her closely. She inhaled deeply and finally relaxed for the first time in awhile. She was worried about your reaction to her question she wanted to ask you, she didn’t want to make this awkward if you didn’t feel the same way. But she asked anyway, the fear that if she didn’t then you’d end up with someone else, someone other than her.

“Will you go on a date with me?” The silence was deafening until you finally said something in return. “Sure.”

#wanda smut #wanda maximoff angst #wanda angst #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x reader #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch #anon ask #anon request

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year

Text

Who Taught You How to Love Like That? - Chapter One

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person) Warnings: Sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics. Word count: ~2.5k Series masterlist

Chapter summary: Desperate to pay off her student loans, she downloads a dating app with a twist, and makes an interesting match.

She sighs, her eyes scanning over the PDF of her payslip for the month, before locking her phone and letting it drop heavily onto the kitchen counter.

“Bad news?” Mysaria quirks an eyebrow, sliding a glass of wine across to her.

“These student loan repayments are fucking killing me. I’ve basically worked an entire week for free this month.” She complains, taking a huge swig from her glass.

“Bummer.” Her flatmate says. “Any way I can help?”

“Unless your mattress is secretly stuffed full of cash, no. Super Noodles for me for the rest of the month, once I’ve paid my share of the rent.”

“You could give being a sugar baby a try?” Mysaria says with a smirk over the rim of her wine glass.

She laughs, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, or take up pole dancing lessons and become a stripper!”

“I’m being serious.” Mysaria, puts her glass down and pulls out her phone, flicking to the App Store and typing. “See? There are loads of apps, why not give it a try?”

“Isn’t that just prostitution?” She wrinkles her nose in disgust.

“Hey!” Mysaria chides. “Sex work is real work, but this isn’t prostitution. Most of these guys are just desperate, lonely guys who earn big bucks and are willing to spoil you in exchange for a conversation or a few selfies. You don’t even have to sleep with any of them…unless you want to.”

“I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

Even if she did go through with it, she was inexperienced, and would surely be a disappointment to any potential sugar daddies she might attract. She’d had one boyfriend in her entire life, it had lasted six months and they’d never gone beyond unsatisfying quickies that focused entirely on his pleasure. The idea of taking money from a stranger in order to pay her bills makes her incredibly uneasy.

They’re half way through their second bottle of wine as she scrolls through her phone. Mysaria is snoring softly on the sofa next to her, while an episode of some trashy reality TV show plays away to itself in the background.

Her thoughts keep drifting back to her flatmate’s mention earlier in the evening of sugar babies. She knows it’s likely the wine inspiring her actions, but she finds herself scrolling through the same apps they’d looked at previously.

Seeing one with particularly good reviews, she presses download before she’s had a chance to think twice about it and then goes through the process of setting up a profile, picking the best photo she has of herself on her camera roll.

Her heart races as she swipes with shaky fingers through photos of a myriad of men. She stops when she sees the look of one she likes.

Larys, 45. Tell me all your secrets.

His curly brown hair and piercing blue eyes immediately capture her attention, and she enjoys the flirtatious nature of his tagline. She swipes right and is stunned when she gets an “It’s a match!” notification. Wow, that was fast.

Instantly a message pops up from him.

Hello beautiful. How are you this evening?

She smiles, this seems harmless enough.

I’m fine, thanks. Just watching TV. How are you?

Her eyes linger on the screen as she awaits his reply.

I’d be better if I could get a look at your pretty feet. How much?

Bile rises in her throat and she throws the phone away from her in disgust. The worst possible start she could have asked for. She silently curses Mysaria’s stupid idea and vows never to open the app again.

Three weeks later and she is thoroughly fed up. She’s tired of never going out or doing anything, sick of existing on instant noodles. When she receives another payslip and sees yet another loan repayment has eaten away at her earnings, she reaches breaking point. She considers looking for another job, but she currently doesn’t qualify for anything beyond an entry level position in her field, and the pay everywhere else is no better than what she’s already on.

Her thumb lingers over the app that she hasn’t touched for weeks, too scarred by having such an awful first encounter to bother with it again. However, she’s desperate and willing to try anything - not with Larys though. She’s quick to unmatch with him, eager to forget his disgusting request.

She swipes mindlessly for a few minutes, not finding anyone attractive, until she happens across a photo that stops her in her tracks.

The man in question has sharp features - an aquiline nose, an impossibly chiseled jawline and sculpted cheekbones. His long white blonde hair frames his face elegantly, his only imperfection is the scar that runs across his left eye, a slightly duller blue than the right. She wonders if he’s still able to see out of it.

Aemond, 35.

No tagline, no other photos, save the one of him staring directly into the camera. He seems intense and mysterious. She swipes right, unable to fight the disappointment she feels when it’s not an instant match.

She closes the app, her desire to look at anyone else has been thwarted by how ridiculously good looking he is.

She has nearly forgotten about him when her phone buzzes the next day. He’s matched with her. She unlocks her phone, her palms sweaty with nerves, and looks at his message.

Hello.

Simple, to the point, possibly the words of a serial killer? She pushes the thought away and types out a response.

Hi. How are you?

She almost gives up and puts her phone away in the time it takes for him to reply, but eventually he does.

I don’t do small talk. Tell me about yourself.

Her eyes widen as she reads the message. He’s either incredibly rude or just not used to interacting with other people. She decides to give him the benefit of the doubt. She tells him about her history degree, about her museum job, about her living situation and her aspirations to one day become a curator of historical artifacts. He is unsurprisingly evasive when she attempts to ask about him.

So, what brings you to the app?

She decides there’s no point in hiding the fact that she’s strapped for cash, she wouldn’t be using an app that matches sugar babies with sugar daddies if that weren’t the case. She explains that her student loan repayments are crippling her, half expecting not to hear from him again. His next message is much quicker to arrive.

How much? And are you free Saturday night?

Dread gnaws at her stomach. Oh god, what does he expect of her? Hesitantly, she types out the remaining balance she has on her student loan and asks what he has in mind for Saturday. Again, he replies straight away.

Give me your bank details. I need a date for my nephew’s engagement party.

Her eyes widen. This cannot be real, and yet it’s happening. Dazed by his forwardness she sends across her account number and sort code, and tells him she’s free on Saturday.

Her mouth runs dry when after a few minutes her banking app pings with a notification of a deposit. The full amount she owes on her student loan has been transferred to her under the name ‘A. Targaryen.”

Aemond has transferred her thousands of pounds as if it were nothing more than pocket change, and all under the loose agreement that she’ll attend a party with him. This man has to be obscenely wealthy, or insane, perhaps both.

Her phone vibrates again. Another message from him.

Transferred. Give me your number, I hate the messaging interface on this app.

With clammy hands and a pounding heart she types out an entirely too long, rambled message of thanks, along with her number.

She wonders if she’s blown it when she doesn’t hear from him again, yet the money still sits in her bank account, feeling as though it’s burning a hole in it. She hasn’t exactly played it cool, most sugar babies probably accept money with cool sophistication, not simpering words of gratitude.

She feels like she’s forgotten how to breathe when he texts her on Friday.

Tell me your address and dress size.

Once more, she’s taken aback by how blunt he is, yet she complies and provides both.

When she arrives home from work later that evening, there is a package waiting for her. She opens it to reveal a black silk gown. The cut of the fabric is beautiful. Her jaw drops when she sees the Chanel label. This likely cost more than the entirety of the clothing she owns put together.

There’s a note that simply reads: Wear this tomorrow - A.

She smiles at the neatness of his handwriting. Aemond is a strange man, and yet she can’t help the intrigue she feels towards him. This is his second act of generosity towards her in the space of a week and they’ve yet to even meet.

She spends all of Saturday ensuring she is waxed, exfoliated and moisturised all over, before carefully styling her hair and applying make-up that she feels will do the eye-wateringly expensive dress she’s been given to wear justice.

She is jittery with nerves when a sleek, black sports car pulls up outside the block of flats. She can just tell it’s Aemond, nothing that costs that much has any business being on this side of town otherwise.

She hurries downstairs to meet him, eager to avoid the embarrassment of him seeing the mess that is the inside of the pokey, little flat she shares with Mysaria.

He steps out of the car and she inhales sharply at the sight of him. He is tall, at least six foot easily, despite her wearing heels he still towers over her. A well tailored, black suit clings to his long, lithe form and his white hair is pulled back neatly into a bun that sits at the nape of his neck.

“You must be Aemond.” She says, praying her make-up is enough to hide the evidence of how hot her face currently feels.

“Mmm. Yes, I must. You look good.” His right eye rakes appreciatively over her form, and when his left doesn’t follow the motion, she realises it’s a prosthetic. “Shall we go?”

He gestures towards the car, walking around to the passenger’s side to open the door for her.

He fills her in on what’s expected of her as he drives. His nephew, Jace, has gotten engaged to his longtime girlfriend, Baela. He is sick of fending off questions around why he’s not with anyone yet, especially from that side of the family. He expects her to stick by his side for the evening and he’ll deal with any awkward questions that may arise.

They arrive and Aemond is ever the gentleman, quickly stepping out of the car to open the door for her and offer her a hand out.

She shivers at the feel of his hand against hers and is stunned further still when he interlocks their fingers, keeping a firm hold of her hand as they enter the house.

“Just play along.” He whispers.

She is immediately struck by the opulence of it all as they walk through the foyer. This is a family that comes from old money. It was clear from the antique furnishings and vaulted ceilings that the Targaryens had always had money and always would.

She balks a little, unsure of if she will fit in, suddenly self conscious. Aemond seems to pick up on this.

“Relax.” He whispers to her. “Everyone here looks like shit compared to you.”

His words, combined with the tickle of his breath against the shell of her ear sends a shiver down her spine.

True to his word, he doesn’t let her stray from his side the entire evening. The tension between family members is unmistakable. The sneers with which a trio of dark haired young men regard Aemond is incredibly off putting.

She is informed by Aemond that the eldest of them is Jace, whose engagement they are here to celebrate. She meets Aemond’s mother, the doe eyed, auburn haired woman is pretty and seems shocked but delighted at the sight of her son with an actual date on his arm.

The lies that flow from his mouth are effortless. He had met her at the museum she works at when he’d come in to browse an exhibition. They’d hit it off instantly and been inseparable ever since.

Every touch of his hand at the small of her back feels like a brand and as the night goes on, and the champagne continues to flow freely, she finds herself eagerly playing up to the part of dutiful girlfriend. She leans into every touch, her eyes fluttering closed at the gentle press of his lips to her hairline. He is respectful, too respectful, never getting handsy or going for a full on the lips kiss.

When the evening draws to a close and he escorts her back to the passenger side of his car, she feels bereft at the loss of his touch as he moves around to the driver’s seat.

“You did well this evening.” He tells her as she starts the engine. “We put on quite the show.”

Remembering that none of this was real, that she’d been paid to be here startles her out of her tipsy fantasy that this is an actual relationship and her mouth presses into a tight line as she nods.

They drive in silence for a while before Aemond speaks again.

“If you’re up for it, my mother is having a birthday meal this Wednesday. She mentioned tonight she’d love for you to come. Are you available? I’ll pay you, obviously.”

So much for this not feeling like prostitution. She’s already paid off her student loan, she could just say no, but then she wouldn’t get to see him again.

“Y-yeah, sounds good.” She says meekly.

They pull up outside the block of flats and, right on cue, Aemond is striding around the car to get her door. She wobbles on her heels as she climbs out, the effects of the evening’s alcohol getting the better of her, and falls against his chest.

His large hands move to steady her by the shoulders and as she looks up into his face she is struck by how gorgeous he really is.

Her eyes slowly close, as she leans in, her lips pressing towards his.

His grip on her shoulders tightens, pushing her back ever-so gently. “You don’t need to do that.”

Her eyes snap back open, shame coursing through her like liquid fire. “Oh…”

“I’ll text you the details about Wednesday. Thanks again for tonight.”

He gets back into the car, driving away as she stands on the kerbside, feeling thoroughly embarrassed.

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writingforstraykids · 5 months

Text

Pretty Please

Pairing: Minho x Chan x fem!reader / Minchan x fem!reader

Word Count: 2953

Summary: You've ended up in bed with Minho or Chan as friends with benefits a few times by now. Chan and Minho had a similar agreement for quite a while themselves. After proposing to Chan to all spend some time together, he promises to talk to Minho. Coming home from an event Chan can't keep his hands off Minho, completely ignoring Minho's concerns about you still being home.

Warnings/Tags: yearning, teasing, dom!chan, sub!minho, smut (minchan focused)

A/N: I hope you like it, let me know if you'd be up for a part two🤭~Moon🌙

Minho chuckles softly as Chan buries his face in his neck, wrapping his arms around his waist as soon as he closes the door. Chan’s lips travel all over the back of his neck, hand fondling down his shirt until it reaches the hem of his suit pants. Minho’s breath hitches as Chan palms him through layers of fabric and melts back against him. “Channie,” he tries softly.

“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me tonight,” Chan growls lowly, leaving tiny bites all the way up to his ear.

“Didn’t do anything,” Minho tells him, hand reaching back to bury itself in Chan’s curly hair. Chan lovingly rubs the growing bulge in his pants, his other hand slipping up beneath his shirt. Minho has trouble holding back a moan at the eagerness of his older friend. “She’s right upstairs, behave.”

“Isn’t she at some birthday party?” Chan asks, turning with him in his arms and glancing into their empty living room.

“Not sure,” Minho shakes his head, hissing softly as Chan sinks his teeth into his neck. “Wait a damn minute,” he giggles, gently freeing himself of his grip. He slips out of his shoes and bends over, putting them on the small shelf in front of the mirror. His eyes widen as Chan grips his hips, pushes his crotch against his bum with force, and makes him stumble at the impact. Minho blindly braces himself on the shelf and raises his eyebrows at him through the mirror. “Fucks sake, Channie, I got the message,” he laughs breathlessly, pressing back against Chan.

Chan buries his hand in his hair and pulls him up, marveling at the soft whimper leaving his friend’s lips. Wrapping his hand around his neck, he meets his eyes through the mirror. “I don’t think you did,” he rasps into his ear, smirking in success. Minho is shivering against him, leaning into his touch subconsciously, and stares at him for a moment. Chan knows that look all too well. He knows Minho is trying to gather his thoughts, trying to get himself together and pretend he isn’t dying for his touch. “What makes you think I was asking, kitten?” he asks, his voice growing low.

Minho can’t stop the moan tumbling from his parted lips this time. “Channie, please,” he whispers desperately.

“Please, what?” he asks impatiently.

“We should check if she’s there first,” he tries to reason with him.

“Afraid you can’t keep quiet?” Chan asks, smirking.

“I’m afraid of traumatizing her,” he gives back.

“I bet she’d love the sight of you falling apart on my dick,” he grins, and Minho’s eyes widen. “Those sweet little whimpers of yours, eyes fluttering close and all while you're trying to be good for me.” Minho’s knees buckle, and he grows heavier against his grip for a split second. “You’d like that? I know you’ve been thinking about her watching us before.”

Minho’s eyes grow even wider, and he frantically searches Chan’s, swallowing hard. “I want to make you both feel good,” he whispers, a little irritated that there doesn’t seem to be a single hint of jealousy or anger in Chan’s chocolate eyes.

“Don't be a dick, Chan,” you giggle, and Minho flinches heavily, staring at you bewildered. You casually lean against the door to your kitchen, watching them with a knowing smirk. When you were with Minho, he loved being in control, but that seemed to change as soon as Chan was around. You can't blame him; Chan has a similar effect on you, but watching the man dominating you in bed is very intriguing, practically dropping to his knees for his hyung.

Minho swallows softly at the sight of you in a shirt he lent you. He gets lost in admiring the form of your body, the way your eyes light up as you smile, and the softness of your hair.

He had been very attracted to Chan the moment he met him, and after years of working and growing together, they became friends with benefits. Minho would be lying if he'd say Chan doesn't mean a lot more to him by now. He helped discover a side of himself he hadn't known before, always making sure he felt comfortable and safe. You met the two of them a few years ago, and once you became their roommate, Minho found himself surrounded by two very beautiful and teasing people. He knows that Chan and you have been sleeping together occasionally as well, but he never dared to think you'd ever consider doing the same with him. Until you did…and god, he loves the different types of attention he gets from the two of you. Chan is a passionate lover, pushing him to his limits and making him experience a need to be ruined he didn't know he had. He knows that Chan only gets as dominant as he is tonight when he can't handle the sight of him. Minho knew he was in for something the minute Chan saw him stepping out of his room before their event. And then there's you. The sweet girl he loves seeing falling apart beneath him, longing for his touch at all times. You know how to wrap him around your finger, and he lets you every single time. He can't help it.

You tilt your head at him as Chan turns with him in his grip and hums gently. "You do look pretty like that, Minnie baby."

Minho's lips part with a tiny gasp at the all-too-familiar pet name. Chan smirks and tightens his grip around his neck a little. "What do you say, kitten?"

"Th-Thank you," Minho stammers nervously, completely overwhelmed by the sudden developments. It's messing with his brain, not fully knowing how to behave. Chan's hand wrapped around his neck tells him very clearly to do as he says, to offer his all to him. You wearing nothing but that damn shirt makes him want to tell you how beautiful you look just for him.

You push yourself off the doorframe and make your way over, locking eyes with Chan, who nods. You've opened up to Chan about a possible event, including the three of you, and Chan seemed intrigued. So, after a few talks, you've decided to have Minho decide if he'd be up for it. Minho gulps softly, pupils blown wide as you step in front of him, meeting his eyes. "Breathe, Minnie," you say and soothingly caress his cheek. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes as you kiss him tenderly. You can tell he's confused. Chan hasn't talked to him yet in that case.

Chan's hand releases its hold on Minho's neck. He quickly wraps his arms around him as Minho stumbles a little, losing his balance at the sudden loss. Chan plants a sweet kiss on the back of his neck. "I got you," he promises, and Minho hums softly in response.

Minho gasps at the loss of your lips against his and presses himself even closer to Chan to make up for it. You lovingly wipe your thumb across his lips before leaning forward. Minho chases your lips, wincing softly as you kiss Chan instead, right next to him. He watches as your mouths collide, unable to stop watching the two people he loves kissing each other.

You moan softly as Chan buries his hand in your hair, pulling you back. "Babygirl's wearing my kitten's shirt, I see?"

"It's comfy," you tell him, and Minho's eyes widen at the combination of your pet names.

"Isn't our girl pretty?" Chan asks, lovingly kissing Minho's cheek.

"Very pretty," Minho nods, smiling at you sweetly.

"Mhm, thank you," you chuckle, glancing at them. "I'll be off in a bit, I'll sleep at my friend's place."

"But not because of us?" Minho asks caringly.

"No, dummy," Chan chuckles lovingly, and Minho bites his lip, trying to resist the urge actually to play dumb for him. "Remember that birthday party I told you about?"

"Right," he nods, barely able to focus on anything else than Chan's growing bulge pressing against his bum. Minho subtly presses back and almost winces at how hard Chan grips his hip. He does it again, knowing he's playing with fire by now. Chan's grip on him gets even harder, making a low whimper fall from his lips. "Fucks sake, Y/N, get moving already," he presses out shakily, unable to hide the need lacing his voice.

"Be nice," Chan cuts him off sharply, and Minho closes his eyes in defeat. "Go sit on the sofa, and don't you dare start without me."

Minho scowls but does as he says, watching the two of you suspiciously as you go upstairs. He bites his lower lip hard, sitting on his hands to stop himself from giving in to the pure need pumping through his veins. Fucking Chan with his teasing and letting him drool.

You chuckle softly as Chan kisses you lovingly and accompanies you to your room. "Channie," you say gently. "Don't make him wait."

"Someone's compassionate tonight," he teases you.

"I know what a tease you can be," you giggle and grab your clothes.

"Call me when you get there," he tells you, letting you change.

You laugh but nod. "I will."

"And if something's wrong. We'll pick you up," he assures you.

"I know," you smile fondly. "I'll call once I'm there. I'll text you guys good night, and I'll call the second something's off."

"Good girl," he smiles and winks at you.

You blush a little and wave him off. "Go, your kitten's waiting."

Minho shoots up from his seat as Chan finally comes back downstairs. "Channie," he whines and makes grabby hands toward him.

Chan smirks and pulls him into his lap as he sits down. "I'm here," he assures him gently, rubbing soothing circles on his hips.

Minho's getting more desperate with every passing second. Suddenly, his suit feels uncomfortable, keeping him away from his lover. "Need you," he whispers, blushing heavily at Chan's intense gaze.

"Need me?" Chan asks curiously.

"So bad," he nods.

"How bad?" he asks, raising his brows at him.

Minho's blush deepens, eyes darting down as he starts feeling shy. "I-."

"Look at me when you speak," Chan reminds him. "You've got such pretty eyes, it'd be a waste."

Minho squirms a little before lifting his gaze. "Need you so bad, Channie," he says shyly. "You always know what I need."

Chan hums before burying his nose in Minho's neck. He grabs his hips, grip growing tight as he pulls him closer. Minho whimpers at the sudden but very needed friction. "Shh, pretty boy, she's still here," he warns him before licking up his skin agonizingly slowly. Minho's mouth falls open with a weak moan, and the slap on his bum that should serve as a warning isn't helping.

"You're killing me here," Minho breathes out as Chan lazily kisses up his neck. He buries his hand in his hair in an attempt to steady himself.

"Patience," he says gently.

"You're one to speak," Minho groans in protest. "If you would've been patient, we wouldn't - I'm sorry -," he squeaks as Chan pulls back and raises his eyebrow at him warningly.

"You're testing me today, kitten," Chan says calmly, and Minho's eyes widen in shock.

"I'm sorry, Chan hyung," he says and starts planting tiny kisses down his jaw and neck, hands roaming his chest in an attempt to calm him. "I'll be good, I promise," he continues, smiling as Chan leans back, exposing his neck for him. He knew that would work.

"You better," he says, already forgiving him as he litters his neck with small bites and heavy kisses. Minho scoots back on top of him to reach more of him, making them both moan at the friction.

"Fuck, Channie," Minho breathes out. "Can I - just until she comes downstairs," he begs, and Chan hums in agreement. Minho doesn't waste a second, dragging his hips all over Chan's lap. A few slow, practiced rolls of his hips later, Chan's head drops back against the sofa.

Chan's eyes flutter close at the relief flooding his system with Minho moving on top of him. "Such a good kitten," he praises him, biting his lower lip hard as Minho mewls. Fucks sake, this boy is driving him crazy, and it takes everything not to take him right here and now. Chan pulls him into a heated kiss, humming at the feeling of their lips meeting. "Gonna fuck you so good. Mark you up so everyone knows who you belong to," he promises against his lips, and Minho takes it all in like an addict.

"Call me yours?" Minho gasps softly, eyes fluttering as his movements fasten up.

Chan groans and moves with him in his arms, making Minho lie on his back. He hovers over him now, pressing down against him and chasing his lips. "Mine. You're all mine, Minnie," he rambles and forgets about his promise to wait until you're gone. He pulls down Minho's pants to his knees and pushes his fingers into his mouth. Minho eagerly sucks at his fingers, moaning around them heavenly. Chan returns to kissing him as he opens him up gently but quickly. Minho fumbles with Chan's belt, pulling down his pants enough for him to push into him as soon as he can.

Minho groans as Chan pushes into him, squeezing his eyes closed at the sudden burning but pleasurable pain. "Fuck," he whispers, realizing Chan was too far gone himself to think about anything else than the two of them. He eagerly pushes back, pulling Chan close to him.

"Taking me so well, baby," Chan grunts, burying his face in his neck. "So good for me." He thrusts into him quickly and roughly, his need taking over.

Minho holds onto him, loud moans falling from his lips freely now. "Feel so good, hyung," he whimpers deliciously as he gets pushed deeper into the cushions with every thrust.

"My pretty boy," Chan praises him, kissing every bit of his neck he can reach.

"Say that again," Minho begs breathlessly, stomach flipping already.

You grab your handbag and carry your heels in your hand as you make your way downstairs. You stop in the middle of the stairs, too stunned to move at the sight in front of you. Apparently, they gave up on waiting. Your ears burn up as you try to make yourself leave but can't.

Minho's gripping the back of Chan's jacket, arching into him and shaking beneath him. His shirt is ripped open messily, and Chan's planting open-mouthed kisses on whatever part of his skin he can reach. Minho's eyes roll back with a delicious moan, and the way he whimpers is new to you. Chan's pounding into him at a desperate pace that tells you just how fucking needy your hyung had gotten. Low groans leave his throat as he pushes them both closer to the edge, and he has trouble holding himself up on his arms.

"You're mine," Chan tells him, hitting his prostate and making him arch against him. "My beautiful kitten, my sweet boy, my pretty baby," he babbles as Minho melts more with every praise. "One day, I'll make sure everyone knows you're mine. Taking me so well, baby boy."

Minho can't even warn him anymore, painting their expensive suits as he comes hard. He moans his name obscenely loud, hand shooting up to cover his mouth in shock, eyes rolling back and toes curling as his body shakes.

"Fuck, kitten, who told you you can cum," Chan growls, hips stilling as he follows only seconds later. He pulls out a little, smiling as Minho makes a protesting sound.

"Stay, please," he says sweetly. "Want to feel full a little longer."

Chan smirks and pushes back inside, getting comfortable on top of him. He mindlessly rubs his hip, closing his eyes as Minho plays with his hair.

"Seriously? On the sofa?" Your voice suddenly rings through the silence.

"Don't make me mention what happened on that kitchen island," Minho simply replies, still catching his breath.

"Or that carpet down there," Chan pants softly.

"I hate you two," you groan, knowing you lost.

"No, you don't," Chan snorts.

"It'll change once you're needy," Minho smirks.

There's a deafening silence after that, which makes both of them look at you confused. Chan picks up on the way you're gripping your heels and subtly pressing your legs together first. "Huh," he snorts.

Minho raises his eyebrows, noticing your lips quivering as you exhale shakily. "That soon, honey?" he asks sweetly.

"That's not fair, you know," you pout.

"What isn't, baby girl?" Chan asks, amused. "That I'm fucking him instead of you?" he adds, pulling back and pushing back in.

"Fucks sake," Minho moans out, surprised.

"Or is it that he's not doing anything to help you out either because he's busy doing as I say?" he grins.

"You're being mean," you whine and look at them, forgetting completely about the party.

Chan raises his eyebrow at Minho, who meets his eyes, almost looking a little confused. “Should we make her wait it out…or take care of her?”

Minho’s jaw drops a little, blushing heavily as he searches for words. “You mean…together?”

“Yeah,” Chan nods.

Minho glances over at you, and the look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know. You’re dying for their touch. How could he deny you that? “I-uhm.”

“Minho, please,” you beg softly, and his stomach flips at the need dripping from your voice.

He clenches around Chan in the process and closes his eyes in defeat as Chan gasps softly, noticing. Fucking hell, he’d die tonight.

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weemssapphic · 1 year

Text

in my head (series)

Chapter One: Friends with Benefits

Larissa Weems x f!reader

next chapter | series page

words: ~2.7k, ao3 link

chapter-specific warnings: light smut (nsfw), mentions of alcohol plot: Friends with benefits. No strings attached - no dates, no feelings, just sex (really good sex). That’s what you’d told Larissa. That’s what Larissa seemed to want, and you would do anything to make her happy. So you would be content with the way things were - for now.

“Darling, ‘mm so close,” Larissa moaned. Her thighs clenched around your head as you lapped at her core, savoring every drop of her arousal as she rode out her orgasm.

You peppered Larissa’s inner thighs with kisses and tiny bite marks before coming up to kiss her, whimpering softly as her tongue brushed against yours.

The bell rang and the hallway flooded with students, signaling the end of your free period.

“My meeting with Mayor Walker is in ten minutes,” Larissa sighed, running her fingers affectionately through your hair and stopping at your jaw, pulling you in for a heated kiss that held promises of more to come - later, once official duties had been fulfilled.

You were reluctant to pull away but you had your own class coming up in a few minutes, and so the ache between your thighs would have to wait.

“I don’t think my students would take kindly to me being late for fucking their principal, huh?” You smirked, earning yourself an incredulous look and a playful slap on the ass from the older woman.

“Must you be so crass?”

“Oh don’t even try to deny it, you love it when I talk dirty,” you grinned and tossed Larissa a wink, which was rewarded with an eye roll.

“I love it even more when you stop talking completely and put that mouth to better use,” she grumbled, the amused glint in her sapphire eyes giving her away.

You placed a hand to your chest in faux-surprise. “Principal Weems, you wound me. Here I thought you enjoyed my clever quips.”

“For that they would actually have to be clever, darling. Now I only have seven minutes until my meeting, and I am still your boss, so I must ask you to leave. Unless you’d like to be punished for being late to your own class…?” Larissa quirked up an eyebrow and you felt your cheeks heat at the implication.

“As tempting as the offer is, Principal Weems, I should get going.”

You reached out and fixed her smudged lipstick with your thumb. Larissa gazed at you fondly, eyes sparkling, lips tugged up into a small smile at the outer corners. “Thank you,” she murmured. You weren’t sure if it was a trick of the light, but you could swear you saw a pink tinge to her cheeks.

“If you need me,” you said, raising an eyebrow suggestively as you fetched your panties from her desk and planted a final kiss to Larissa’s cheek before turning to leave. “You know where to find me.”

“Perhaps tonight, to let off some steam. You know how tiresome the Mayor can be,” she rolled her eyes and you snorted in agreement.

“I thought you didn’t tire easily,” you teased.

“Not with you, darling.”

Larissa watched you leave, eyes fixated on the sway of your hips as they disappeared from sight behind her office door. A glance at her watch told her the mayor was due any minute now, so she shook her head lightly, as if physically trying to rid herself from thoughts of you. She mustn't let herself get distracted.

~~~ FLASHBACK ~~~

You had piqued Larissa’s interest from the moment she’d hired you for the newly founded position of Outcast Neurostudies teacher. Your ability as a mind-reader made you uniquely suited to the position, and it intrigued Larissa - she hadn’t met anyone like you before, and she felt drawn to you from the get go. You challenged her in ways not many people had the ability to, and there was a certain charge in the air when you were around that she simply couldn’t explain.

After spending some one-on-one time together, the two of you had discovered you had quite a lot in common, and had developed a close friendship. You would spend Friday nights curled up in front of Larissa’s fireplace, sharing a bottle of red wine and talking about everything and nothing. It felt nice for Larissa, finally opening up to someone again.

Only she couldn’t get you off her mind. One such day, she was sitting at her desk, preparing to leave for Outreach Day by firing off a few last minute emails. Her thoughts drifted to you - it would be the first time she’d see you off-campus, and the thought thrilled her a bit. Perhaps she could steal you away for some hot chocolate at the Weathervane when all the students were settled into their assignments.

Larissa’s thoughts drifted even further, wondering what you would be wearing. You always looked so tantalizing, blouses that stopped just shy of your cleavage, skirts that would hike up when you’d squeeze onto the sofa in Larissa’s office, the smooth expanse of your thighs on display. And you, so blissfully unaware of your charm. The thought made Larissa heady.

No. Such thoughts about an employee were unprofessional.

But if they only stayed thoughts?

Larissa slammed her laptop shut with a frustrated groan. She could feel her panties growing damp as she pictured you writhing underneath her, riding out an orgasm on her fingers. Fuck.

She had to do something about the ache between her legs, or Outreach Day was going to be pure torture.

Larissa’s hand slipped under the hem of her skirt and dipped between her thighs, cupping her soaked panties. This wouldn’t take long, she was already so close. She began to rut against her hand, rubbing hard and fast circles against her swollen clit, the faintest of moans passing her lips. Images of you, face contorted with pleasure, screaming her name, flashed behind her eyes as she stroked herself through her panties, her stomach burning.

A knock at her office door caused her to jerk her hand up, and she coughed out a weak “come in!” whilst smoothing her skirt.

Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear - you strolled into her office, beaming ear-to-ear, wearing a tight blouse with the top button undone, hair pulled back to reveal the full curve of your jaw (oh, how would it feel to leave prints of her own lipstick along that jaw?)

“Ready for Outreach Day, Larissa? The students are waiting by the buses.” If you noticed that Larissa was flushed, her breathing labored, well, you didn’t comment.

“Y-yes, Ms. Y/L/N. I’m ready.” Larissa cleared her throat, fingers twitching on her desk as she pressed her thighs together to relieve the tension still steadily climbing inside of her.

“Great! Maybe you’d like to sit next to me on the bus?” Your innocent smile did absolutely nothing to soothe the ache between Larissa’s legs. This was going to be a long day.

And it was. Thanks to Wednesday Addams, it was a complete disaster.

The day ended with Larissa inviting you back to her office to share a bottle of wine as she let out her frustrations. One bottle quickly turned into two, and Larissa became aware, again, of the fire in her belly, the heat spreading rapidly throughout all her limbs.

You sat close, closer than you’d ever sat. The firelight flickered across your features, illuminating your natural beauty. You looked so eager, so receptive. When you put your hand on her forearm in a soothing gesture, stroking her bare skin with your thumb, it made her dizzy.

She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the day’s pent up frustrations but before she knew what she was doing, her lips were on yours. To her surprise, you didn’t push her away - quite the contrary, you let out a wanton moan, a moan that said “what are you waiting for?” and she pulled you closer by the waist and allowed her tongue to slide against yours.

She fucked you right there on her office sofa that night, both a little wine drunk, neither one of you caring about anything except quelling the burning desire that burned inside the both of you.

And then morning came. Larissa awoke alone in her bed with a searing headache and, moments later, the events of the previous night came flooding back to her. Her tongue on your cunt, teasing your entrance, circling your clit. Your breathy moans, the way your thighs clenched around her head as you came.

Shame coursed through her body. She wanted to run and hide, but she knew she had to own up to her mistake, so she called you into her office for the conversation that had changed the trajectory of your relationship:

“Come in.” Larissa was sitting at her desk, head in her hands, when you entered the office. She could barely look up, unsure how she would be able to look into your eyes.

“I assume you want to talk about last night?” you asked. When Larissa finally looked up, you were biting your lip - you looked nervous, and it took everything in Larissa not to reach out and kiss you, to soothe you somehow.

She took a deep breath, slipping into her mask of professionalism, steeling herself for rejection. “Y/N… I apologize for what I did last night. I don’t want you to think poorly of me, what I did was not appropriate nor professional in the slightest. I value the friendship you’ve trusted me with and hate to think that I’ve broken that trust over a silly drunken mishap.”

To Larissa’s utter shock, you laughed. “Larissa… I don’t know about you but last night was the best sex I’ve ever had. Where did you learn to do that thing with your tongue?” Larissa’s heart began to pound, the blood rushing to her face. Was she hearing you correctly? Was this some sort of fever dream? You were supposed to be angry, to be disgusted with her. Yet here you were, staring at her with your kind eyes - laughing?

You rounded her desk, perching at the edge of it and taking Larissa’s chin between your fingers. The action made her shiver. “Hey, I’m sorry. I wanted to lighten the mood a little. I just mean I don’t think poorly of you and you have nothing to apologize for, because I don’t regret what happened last night. I enjoyed myself and if you did, too, then I don’t see why we couldn’t… you know, do that again sometime.” You smiled hopefully.

Larissa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her mind was reeling - when she’d woken up that morning she’d been so afraid you’d be disgusted with her, that you’d tell her off and never want to speak with her again. Instead, you were offering yourself to her on a silver platter. She couldn’t dare hope.

“I have a rule against dating coworkers,” she said slowly.

“Oh, I don’t mean dating. Think of it as blowing off steam.”

There was a beat of silence where the implications of your words hung heavy in the air.

“What are you suggesting?” Larissa furrowed her brows, pulse racing as she tried to concentrate with your fingers tracing the line of her jaw.

“Haven’t you heard of, you know… friends with benefits?” Your cheeks were slightly rosy and you sucked your lip between your teeth.

Larissa snorted, her hand shooting up to cover her painted lips at the unpretty sound.

You let go of her chin and slipped behind her, soothing your fingers into the tense muscles at the base of her neck. God, that feels good… You dug your thumbs more intensely into her shoulders and she couldn’t help the moan that spilled out of her mouth.

“Friends with benefits, huh?” Larissa’s voice was low and wanting as she mulled over your words.

“No strings attached, Larissa. No feelings, no dates. Just two friendly coworkers who enjoy each other's company and just so happen to have mind-blowing sex.” Any qualms Larissa had about staying professional, about not ruining your friendship, were slowly trickling away as your warm breath washed over neck, your hands working her muscles into putty.

“Mmh…” You dug your thumbs harder into Larissa’s back. “I could agree to that.” She let out a moan and swiveled her desk chair around, putting an end to the massage in order to claim your lips with her own.

~~~ END FLASHBACK ~~~

A few weeks into your arrangement with Larissa, you still got chills every time you walked down the corridor to her office. You couldn’t believe your luck - somehow, the stunning, intelligent, imposing woman had not only become one of your closest friends, but was also interested in you sexually.

Your relationship with her was almost perfect: you’d talk, laugh, cry, be there for each other like best friends, then you’d have the best sex you’d ever had with anyone - all, as you’d said, without any strings attached, without having to label anything. If sharing a glass of wine and quelling her sexual frustrations was all she wanted from you, hell, you weren’t going to question it. It was more than you could ever dare hope for.

You reached Larissa’s office for the second time that day and knocked on the door, waiting for her smooth voice to call “enter” before slipping into the room.

“I brought you your favorite.” You grinned, holding up a bottle of Larissa’s preferred red wine as if it were a trophy.

Larissa’s features softened as she peered up at you over the top of her laptop, her lips curling up into a smile. “Let me finish this proposal and then I’ll be right with you.”

You made yourself useful by pouring two glasses of wine, handing one to the blonde then curling up in the armchair across from her desk and watching her finish her work. She worked so intently, so diligently - her fingers flew across the keyboard, her brow furrowed lightly. Every so often she would pause, nibble at her lip, then her fingers would tap away at the keys again. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Larissa stilled, feeling your eyes upon her. Her gaze met yours and she arched an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing.” You blushed and stared down into your wine. Larissa watched you for a moment before turning her attention back to her proposal, a small smile now playing upon her lips.

The next half hour passed in amiable silence as Larissa worked and you scrolled on your phone, peeking up every so often to steal a glance at the principal. Finally, she shut her laptop. She leaned back in her armchair, eyes fluttering shut, a frustrated groan escaping her lips.

“Dare I ask how your meeting with Mayor Walker went today?” You spoke quietly, as if afraid to break the silence.

Larissa chuckled darkly, opening her eyes and reaching for her wine glass, draining it in one go. “The aftermath of this year’s Outreach Day extends farther than I thought, it appears.”

You frowned, rounding the desk and sitting on the edge, just in front of Larissa. “I’m sorry, I know how important Outcast-Normie relations are to you.”

Larissa waved a hand in front of her face. “No need to pity me, darling, it comes with the territory. I just want to do right by these students. And now our dear mayor wants this proposal on his desk by Monday morning.” She rolled her eyes, sighing heavily.

“Do you want me to leave? I mean we could always take a raincheck, you look like you could use some rest and I-” Larissa lunged forward, her mouth colliding with yours, effectively putting an end to your rambling.

Her lips were warm and soft on yours, and she kissed you with a ferocious urgency that you’d rarely experienced from her. She slid her tongue against your lip and you allowed her to explore the cavern of your mouth as her hands tangled roughly in your hair.

When you parted, it was only because Larissa had run out of breath. She rested her forehead against yours, her breath warm against your face.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she murmured. “I… I need the distraction tonight.” She swallowed thickly, closing her eyes, and you could tell it was hard for her to ask for what she wanted.

Your hands came up to cup her cheeks. “Do you want to be in charge tonight?”

#larissa weems x reader #larissa x reader #larissa weems #principal weems x reader #principal weems #in my head series #in my head

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mynameismckenziemae · 2 months

Text

In Case You Didn’t Know

Part 11

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: Stress and whiskey loosens Jake’s lips.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, mutual masturbation, toy use, discussion of kinks, a little cliffy at the end there.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“Okay, okay Jake,” you scold, laughing breathlessly as he ruts against you in the kitchen as you’re trying to make mimosas. “Your mom and Emma are gonna be here any minute. Do you really want them to see you with a boner?”

He sighs before nipping your ear and stepping back. “Yeah, you’re right. I just can’t get enough of you. And knowing you’re gonna be my wife in 2 short weeks is making me crazy.”

“I know, I can’t wait either,” you smile over your shoulder at him. Oh, did Bradley book his flight yet?”

“Yeah, he’ll be here the Tuesday before to help out and make sure his suit fits. The rest of the squad won’t be here until Thursday afternoon. We just gotta figure out a way to keep him and Emma separated,” he jokes.

“You know, they would make a cute couple,” you muse.

He hums in agreement. “They would. I just don’t want to see him get hurt. He plays the carefree himbo well, but he’s got a big heart. He’d worship the ground she walks on if she’d let him in,” he sighs, wrapping his arms around you again and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Y’all fucking or are-ow, Ma!” Emma calls from the front door.

“We’re in the kitchen, fully clothed!” You laugh.

“That’s a first,” Emma mutters, rubbing her arm where Ruth pinched her.

“Learn to knock and you won’t see anything you don’t want to,” Jake replies hugging her before turning and doing the same with Ruth.

“How’s the new job?” Emma asks as she hops on the counter.

“Pretty good. A bit stressful learning the ropes myself and constantly having to tell the new recruits what to do, when to do it, and dolling out push-ups when they mess up. I feel like I’m babysitting most of the time. It’ll get better though once I get used to things,” Jake replies.

“It will. Give yourself a break, baby,” Ruth pinches his cheek. “Your daddy’s outside with Cash. I swear he loves that dog more than any of us,” Ruth sighs.

“Can’t blame him, he’s a good dog. Mimosas?” You offer.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Jake jokes, reaching for a flute, but you push it out of reach and give his denim-clad butt a swat.

“No sir, don’t you dare. They’re for us girls, now get outta here so I can try on the dresses.”

“Yes ma’am. I like it when you’re bossy,” he winks, rubbing the spot you popped him before he pecks your cheek and heads out the door.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“Wow, how many did you buy?” Emma asks wide-eyed as she looks at the dresses in your arms.

“12,” you laugh. “The website has free return shipping. I wasn’t sure what style looks best on me, I haven’t worn a gown since prom.”

“You can pull off anything,” Emma smiles. “But it’s good to have options.”

Ruth dabs her tears with each dress you try, but her tissue can’t keep up when you come out of your room with the 10th one. It’s fitted, with a low back with loose lace sleeves and it fits like a glove.

“Oh Charlie, you’re glowing,” she whispers.

“Yup,” you smile. “This is the one.”

“I agree,” Emma murmurs, coming up behind you to get the button you couldn’t reach. “Jake won’t be able to keep his eyes or his hands off you.”

You grin and look at Ruth. “Think mom would like it?”

Just as you say it a breeze floats through the living room window and you swear you smell her sweet perfume.

Emma and Ruth look at each other and then at you with wide eyes; they smell it too.

“There’s your answer, hun,” Ruth says with a watery smile.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“Charlie-darlin’, where you at?” Jake calls as he comes in the front door hours later. “Casher, where’s your mama? Find mama, buddy.”

That Texas drawl coming out tells you he’s been drinking and you burst into giggles as Cash comes running, smothering you with kisses.

“Working out, I’ll be done in a few. There’s a plate in the fridge if you’re hungry,” you reply once Cash lets up, running back to the kitchen to find Jake at the word ‘fridge’.

“Hell yeah, meatloaf!” Jake says excitedly as he opens the fridge. He joins you after heating it up. “Find a dress?”

“Mhmm, you’re gonna love it. What did you and your dad do?”

“I bet I will. I bet I’ll like takin’ it off even more,” he smiles, eyes raking over your body in your sports bra and shorts. “Shot darts and played pool. You know, guy stuff.”

“Seems like alcohol might’ve been involved?” You ask with a knowing smile as you begin to stretch.

He pinches his fingers together. “Maybe a little whiskey. God, this is good. You’re a good cook, Char. Hey, you know what I said earlier?”

He’s so dang cute when he’s like this.

You smile up at him from your place on the floor before you shake your head. “Remind me?”

“When I said I like it when you’re bossy. I meant that” he says with a blush, leaving to put his plate in the dishwasher to return a moment later. He leans on the doorframe as he continues. “Like…if you want to take the lead sometimes, I’d be up for that.”

You rise to your feet and saunter over. “Mmm, I’d definitely be up for that,” you hum, pulling him in for a kiss by his belt loop. “Take a shower with me and we’ll talk more?”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“Not that I’m complaining,” you smile as you rinse your hair, “but what brought this on? Or is this something you’ve always wanted to try?”

“That little bit of bossiness this morning got me thinkin’ bout how sexy it’d be in the bedroom. Work’s been stressing me out and thought maybe it’d be nice if someone was giving me the orders,” he says with a blush.

“So you want me to tell you what to do? Maybe tie you to our bed and have my way with you?”

“Yes, all of that,” he sighs as you wrap your hand around his erection as the warm water runs between the two of you.

“What else?” you ask before leaning in and taking his nipple into your mouth, teasing it with your tongue and teeth. He groans, stumbling back a step until his back hits the wall. You nip at the bud when he doesn’t answer. “What else, Jake?”

“Anything you want,” he pants as you continue stroking him. “Use me to get yourself off, play with my ass some more…what’s it called when you get someone really close and then you back off? Edging? I think that’s what it’s called. I like it when you pull my hair. Just…anything. Anything you want.”

You smile as the tips of his ears turn red and a flush rises up his neck at his admission. “What were you and Tom drinking? Whiskey?”

“Yes ma’am, how’d you know?” He smiles before kissing you.

“All your secrets come out when you drink whiskey. I want to do all of that and more. What about if you don’t follow my rules? Do you want me to punish you?”

He flushes even further but nods, eyes drifting closed at the pleasure from your hand.

“You never have to be embarrassed or ashamed with me Jake. No one has to know what you and I get up to,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss up his throat as you increase the speed of your strokes.

His abs begin to tense and his breathing shortens, signaling he’s about to cum, you pull your hand away.

Your neglected pussy clenches at the whimper that leaves him.

“Wha-why’d you stop?” He pants a moment later, opening his eyes to look at you in confusion.

“I’m not ready for you to cum yet,” you reply with a cheeky grin, turning off the water behind you.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

You bite your lip to keep from laughing as you dig out your box of toys from under the bed that Jake’s currently lying on, practically vibrating with need.

Finding the items you want, you crawl onto the bed, putting a dollop of lube in your hand before coating Jake’s still-hard cock while you lean forward to kiss him.

He gasps when you bite his lip at the same time you place the stroker on him.

“You can take over from here, but don’t cum,” you murmur against his lips before you lean back against the pillow you placed on the footboard.

“Whatcha got there?” He asks huskily from his mirrored position against the headboard.

“This is a rabbit vibrator. It was my favorite toy until we got together,” you reply, holding it up for him to see. “This part goes in my pussy,” you sigh as you push it in with a lewd squelch, “and this goes against my clit. Then I turn it on.” Your back arches off the pillow with a keen as you demonstrate.

“Holy fuck,” Jake gasps, gripping the base of his cock as he watches you pleasure yourself.

“I didn’t say you could stop,” you instruct breathlessly as find the vibration pattern you like best.

He grimaces and takes a shaky breath as he continues his stroking.

“I don’t know how many times I got myself off just like this thinking about you, watching porn imaging it was us, reading my books wishing we were doing all those dirty things together,” you sigh as you already feel the first tells that an orgasm is approaching.

“Oh God, that’s so hot,” Jake moans, eyes closing as he imagines it.

“Eyes on me, Jake. I want you to watch,” you sigh as your toes begin to curl.

“I-I can’t. I’ll cum, Char,” he grits out, refusing to open his eyes and look at you.

“No, don’t you dare cum yet,” you warn breathlessly. “Now open your eyes and watch me.”

He whines but forces his eyes open just as you hit your peak with a cry, so consumed by your pleasure that you don’t hear Jake’s reluctant groan.

You slump back against the pillows with a sigh as you pull the vibrator out, not at all satisfied yet.

“I tried Char, but I couldn’t stop it. You’re just too fucking gorgeous when you cum,” Jake sighs guiltily.

You open your heavy lids and a new rush of arousal goes straight between your legs at the sight of a wrecked-looking Jake; his damp hair sticking up where he ran his fingers through in desperation, an embarrassed flush staining his cheeks, and the stroker on his still-hard cock, full of his creamy spend.

“Jake, Jake, Jake. What am I going to do with you?” You repeat his words from when the roles were reversed a few weeks ago.

“You’re not gonna spank me, are you?” He remembers, repeating your words huskily, but with a quirk of his lips. He doesn’t think you will.

He jolts, gasping when you reach over to grip his oversensitive cock, giving him a few pulls.

“Turn over and find out.”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

A/N: A little cliffy there! Sorry if you’re not into spanking or when the woman takes the lead. Apparently a bunch of you do like it though according to the survey I posted from a few days ago. 🤷🏻‍♀️😏

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs.

Tagging:

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#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction

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wisteria-blooms · 6 months

Text

sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (5/??)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST: @badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake @k-k-merlin @kisskittenn @pluiesdefleurs@lilianelena39 @bathwater101 @evilunicorns4minions @noah-uhhh-what (Let me know if I missed you, or if you want to be added!) A/N: Thank you guys for the sweet comments! I love reading them and they make me write faster, apparently, haha. Let me know if you have any predictions! I'm super curious. ;)

CHAPTER 5: You get a lot more than you bargained for when Charlie shows up at dinner. For one, how does he manage to make politics, sexy? (4.7k words)

CHAPTER 5: ELECTRIC POLITICS

You were cloaked in warm and well slept-in sheets. You nestled yourself in that comfort for another moment before turning onto your back and cracking an eye open. Above you was a familiar tall and white ceiling. Yep, you were definitely back in your bed. It was always in the earliest of mornings that for the briefest of moments, your mind was inclined to forget what had happened the night before. As your lucidity grew, figments of last night came to you slowly.

You were at a bar with Charlie, talking about plans…

…That he shredded.

Right, that happened.

But had it all been a dream? Maybe it was still the morning after that disastrous dinner and your subconscious had plotted out the past couple of “days”.

You pulled your covers off and stared at your naked kneecap. There was a light bruise, a pale spot of red, from when Charlie was trying to ‘gauge’ your limits or whatever he’d called it. To think he’d left a mark by just casually holding your knee in his hand, not even intently putting pressure on it. To think if he’d done anything with intent…

“Get a grip on yourself,” you chastised, fanning away thoughts that were too lewd for the morning. You were growing annoyed with yourself after losing every shroud of strong-headedness you had. Charlie was just attractive and confident. But so were thousands of other men in the world, so why did he get to control your narrative last night?

You exhaled, resolving to think about it later, then walked over to the closet to dress for the day.

Narcissa was the only one in the sunroom when you arrived. It looked like your father and Draco had already had breakfast and gone off to do whatever the day asked of them.

“Good morning,” you greeted, slipping into your chair.

“You got in late last night,” Narcissa responded.

You shrugged. “It was Friday, and I’m young.”

There was a wrinkle of disapproval on her mouth. By now, Lucius would’ve told her about Charlie and about your little scene last weekend at the cafe, and she would’ve filled in your whereabouts last night with that information.

She looked out the garden and then back at you. “What does your schedule look like in a month’s time? Say, the second Sunday of October?”

“I imagine it’s free.”

“You best keep it open, then,” Narcissa continued. “My monthly book club is inviting a prolific author for tea. I would like you to join us.”

“Oh?” She’d certainly piqued your interest. “Who?”

“Madame Millicent,” she said. “She’s been praised as the face of female empowerment in the literary world.”

Female empowerment. This was exactly what you needed after you let Charlie throw you around like a rag doll, falling docile to his every touch and word. Hm, maybe having tea with this Madame Millicent wouldn’t be so bad.

The problem was that you hadn’t even heard of her. “What should I read to prepare?”

“That’s up to you,” Narcissa advised. “Choose a title of hers that interests you. She has three titles out now. I have everything in the study.”

You nodded. You had about a month which gave you more than a week to clear each book.

You had your coffee and pastry with a side of small talk, chatting with your mother about mundane topics like what her book club was reading this week and what she was doing this weekend.

Before you knew it, it was Friday afternoon, the day before the dinner. This day in particular, you found comfort in sitting on the couch in Fred and George’s flat with free use of their owl, writing letters to Charlie. This old rickety couch was now your favourite creative outlet, you supposed.

You hoped Charlie wasn’t fickle in his decisions, so you had to confirm he would be present tomorrow.

Hi, Charlie We’re still on for tomorrow?

Of course.

What are you wearing

Just then, a loud explosion sounded outside. Your jerky response drew out the 'g' in your sentence. You set the quill down on the coffee table, walked to the main door, opened it, and looked to the room adjacent to the flat.

“Are you alright?” you called out into the abyss.

You saw a thumbs up against a plum of black smoke, so you retreated back to the couch. When you returned, the letter was gone along with the owl. Minutes later, the owl returned with another letter.

I don’t have to tell you how improper that sounds, (Y/N). I’m saving this letter for a later date.

You wrote back with a reddening face.

You know I mean for this Saturday. And burn it, please.

The same old thing I always do. Is that okay?

An attire of a jean jacket thrown over a comfortably worn t-shirt would make your classist father curl with rage. It was perfect.

Of course. Remember, we’re at 8 Estates Lane and dinner starts at 6 p.m. If you end up at 6 Estates Lane, you may encounter Cecile, a widow, who’s just getting over her late husband. She’s still healing, so best to leave her alone.

Got it. See you at six tomorrow, (Y/N) darling.

In the time it took to read Charlie’s letter, Fred had tiptoed in and peered over your shoulder.

“Why don’t you just talk to him in person?”

“Because,” you sighed, turning around to poke him in the face with a quill, “You make fun of me when I come over now, and Charlie doesn’t seem to like to play by the books.”

“What do you mean?”

“He shredded my script last Friday.”

‘And touched me in places he shouldn’t have, and nearly kissed me, and made a fool of me in retrospect,’ you thought. But you wouldn’t tell Fred that was why you were nervous to see Charlie in person: because of whatever spell he’d put on you last time.

“It wasn’t good anyway,” Fred remarked honestly.

You furrowed your brows. You poured your heart and mind into that thing! “What do you mean?”

“You were writing lullabies. I almost fell asleep listening to them.”

“This is the least I can do to ensure some consistency,” you argued. “I won’t convince anyone at dinner if I act just as shocked as my parents.”

“Charlie isn’t going to be boxed in by whatever the rules are. He just does what feels right to him at the time, and his intuition is often correct.” Fred threw his arms up in defence after seeing your increasingly perturbed expression. “But don’t ask me, Bill knows him way better.”

“I’m sure, seeing they’re, what, two years apart?”

“They’ll tell each other everything, anything,” Fred added. “Actually, you should ask Bill if you need any blackmail material to keep Charlie in line.”

You were about to agree, but that thought was interrupted by an owl flying into the open window and pecking at you. You stared at the animal quizzically. Unless Charlie was continuing your pretty much finished conversation, then who was this for? You slit the ribbon and unfurled the parchment. Immediately, you noticed the penmanship was different. Neater. Crisper. Like it was written by someone who needed their numbers and figures written crystal clear, say, someone whose profession might be that of a bank official…

(Y/N), Charlie is wearing a black sweater and grey sweatpants. I heard you were curious as per your last letter. Sincerely, Bill Weasley

Noticing your mortified expression, Fred was quick to snatch the letter out of your hands. Immediately, his braying laughter filled the room.

“I told you they tell each other everything!” he boasted.

For the third time this week, you were sure you were parading about a sinking ship.

Tick, tick.

5:58 p.m. on Saturday evening, Lucius crossed one leg over the other, looking expectedly at the circular driveway that wrapped around a marble fountain outside the main entrance. He set his cane aside and adjusted his tie, a black piece in his suit of all black.

5:59 p.m., Narcissa tapped her fingers on her stocking-clad legs. She, too, took to a dress of all black. The only colour on her body was an emerald brooch.

6:00 p.m., a wave of nausea overtook you. You fiddled with a button on your white textured cardigan that you slipped over a black pleated dress.

6:01 p.m., Draco, dressed like his father, let out a scoff at your expense. Pitiful was the sound and wounded was your ego.

“So,” Lucius’s voice cut through the tense air. “Where is Charlie?”

You blanched, at a loss for an explanation. He’d promised you he was going to be here. You had written proof, but it would have no standing in your father’s court of law.

“Well?” he urged.

“Probably weaving his way through the forest,” you excused with as most conviction as you could muster. “It’s not easy to find such a remote location, especially a mansion on Estates Lane.”

Draco looked at his silver watch on his wrist and let out a sound of competent. “He’s already five minutes late. But I wasn’t expecting anything more from a Weasley, anyway.” Then, he suggested something you didn’t want to hear. “Father, how much longer should we wait before we call off this dinner? You and I have more important things to deal with anyway.”

“I’ll give it—”

Lucius was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of the front door opening. A few seconds later, Dobby came running.

“Who is it, Dobby?” Narcissa asked, standing up.

“It’s Ms. Cromwell and Mr. Weasley.”

“Ms. Cromwell?” Lucius repeated.

The four of you, Malfoys and all, shared the same confusion as you scurried to meet your guest—plural, you corrected, guests.

At the entrance of the door, Cecile Cromwell stood with Charlie. She was the heiress you mentioned in your letter. The grieving heiress you warned him not to bother. Her late husband, Chuck Cromwell, held a large fortune in his name before passing last month. Cecile looked polished as always, layers of diamonds and silver looped around her twill dress. Wrapped in her shawl, she looked like the face of elegance and especially juxtaposed to Charlie…

Charlie, who was not wearing what he said he was going to. In fact, he complemented Cecile perfectly.

He’d slicked his hair back and tied the longer strands up. His blouse boasted some frilly lace that looked like it belonged on Genevieve’s wedding dress rather than his broad chest. The blouse sleeves were long, and the same frilly material poked out at his wrists. He wore a red undercoat that clashed heavily with his purple overcoat which was embroidered with gold stitches. Perhaps the most terrible thing was that his pants cut off past his knees. But his legs weren’t bare, absolutely not. He chose some sort of silk stocking to run down his legs before they were swallowed by his buckled shoes.

“My apologies for the delay, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy,” Charlie said. “And to you, my lovely (Y/N).”

You were relieved that Lucius and Narcissa’s gazes were so zoned in on Charlie that they couldn’t even spare you a glance. Because your face was a clear tell that you weren’t expecting this at all. Whatever happened to his promise of a jean jacket and slacks?

“I’d expected him to dress like this, something reflective of his character,” Draco whispered from beside you. “A circus act.”

“Bugger off,” you warned, giving him a push away.

“It was a rather circuitous route through the dense forest and trees,” Charlie explained, dusting off a twig that was stuck in the loopy lace of his blouse. You wanted to scream. “Luckily, I had Ms. Cromwell to guide me to safety.”

“Cecile is more than fine, Charles,” Cecile assured, smoothing out his suit for him. “As we discussed on the way here.”

“And Charlie is fine, as we discussed,” he added.

“You didn’t have to walk all the way here, Ms. Cromwell,” Lucius said rather hastily. “It’s rather chilly. Let me have the house elf escort you back.”

“Nonsense,” she deflected, only giving Lucius a moment of her time before fixing a strand of Charlie’s hair that a branch must’ve unstuck. “Walking keeps me youthful in my old age. And meeting Charles, I mean Charlie here, was the sunshine to my gloomy day.”

“I couldn’t have assumed you were over fifty,” Charlie commented.

“Oh, you,” Cecile said with a loud giggle. You’d never seen the heiress act like a fifteen-year old. “You remind me of my late husband so very much. Same name, just as handsome, and you’re dressed like him when we met as teenagers. Any lady would be lucky to have you.”

Well, at least someone in the room thought he looked charming in those dated robes.

“Men these days don’t possess that same sense of charming style. It’s always the same shades of black and white.”

Lucius and Draco both silently peered down at their suit of all black before Lucius said: “I fear that a storm could break any moment now, you best get going,” he insisted, nudging Dobby to take the heiress’s hand.

“I’m happy to provide direction anytime, Charlie,” Cecile reminded as Dobby guided—very gently pulled—her to the door. She shot him a wink. “You know where I live.”

Charlie stepped forward. “Of course, Cecile. Have a pleasant evening.”

Then, the door shut leaving the five of you in silence.

“How nice it is to be able to meet your neighbours, Mr. Malfoy, despite the circumstances of my delayed arrival,” Charlie said. “It doesn’t impress well upon me. I hope I can be forgiven for the gaffe.”

It took Lucius longer than usual to register Charlie’s words. It was apparent he was embarrassed that Cecile Cromwell was cognizant that Charlie Weasley was invited to his mansion for dinner. And was dating his daughter.

“Of course,” Narcissa answered in lieu of her frozen husband. “Shall we proceed to the dining room?”

She took Lucius’s hand and gave him a less-than-gentle nudge towards the hall. Lucius walked like the troll that had somehow stormed its way into Hogwarts in your third year. Still unable to speak, he walked along with Narcissa. Draco scampered behind your parents. All you could do was stare at the chaos Charlie caused by merely arriving.

“Come on then,” Charlie spoke in a low tone next to you. He took you by the hand as well.

“Where did you get these robes?” you asked, referring to his costume.

“It was my great-aunt’s father’s, or something of that sort. Mum wasn’t clear. It really was stowed away in the attic, and I wore it against better advice.”

“Why?”

“I’m a classy man,” Charlie boasted. “What more can I say?”

Dobby rushed back just in time to pour the wine. You were seated next to Charlie, Draco in front of you, and your parents on each side of the table.

“How is work, Mr. Malfoy?” Charlie asked through a polite sip of red when it settled.

“It’s been keeping me busy,” Lucius responded almost robotically.

“September is never a quiet time for the Ministry, as both my brothers and father say.”

Lucius was half-focused on conversation. He’d recovered from the Cecile incident, but there was another enemy: he couldn’t keep his eyes off Charlie’s hand that was doting touches on your arm and waist. Truthfully, neither could you. Charlie’s fingers squeezed sporadically and you thanked the wine glass for absorbing your squeal.

“Of course not, which is why we look forward to the summer. Speaking of, where will you summer?” Lucius asked. You nearly rolled your eyes at the uppity way he worded the question. Arthur had once asked you the same, but in a direct way: ‘Where are you going this summer?’

“We spend a day or two at some of the beach resorts in Romania, or dip into Greece, but there is one spot I’ve been dying to visit,” Charlie said.

“Where is that?” Lucius pressed.

“Your brother Theodore’s new estate in Paris.”

Lucius mouth paused mid-retort. Narcissa’s red lip was stuck, pressed against the wine glass.

You, on the other hand, had to fight the thunderous laugh rising in your chest.

“I’m sorry,” Lucius said, shaking his head with a slight laugh of disbelief. “I didn’t catch that. Where is this?”

“(Y/N) was telling me about how tremendous your brother’s Parisian estate was,” Charlie clarified, his words full of air and cheer. “I can imagine how big it is compared to this mansion. And I hear he hosts a wickedly good game of golf, which I’d be happy to partake in.”

“It’s good enough for Paris,” Lucius said. “But—”

“See, you and I are similar in that regard,” Charlie interrupted, raising a finger. Lucius’s frown grew steeper at how Charlie was now lumping them in the same bracket. “Living in the shadows of our perfect older brothers and being constantly compared to them.”

Lucius scoffed. “My parents knew better than to do that.”

‘Yeah, right,’ you thought. Your grandfather, Abraxas, loved to pit his two sons together, like they were animals in a ring. And like an unbreakable tradition, Lucius imposed that on you and Draco, and you knew you weren’t as wonderful as the perfect little Malfoy next to you.

“I would be pleased to meet your brother one day,” Charlie said. “Maybe next summer. After all, (Y/N) has met most of my extended family and there’s nothing that ties a partnership like family.”

“We’ll see what our plans are for next summer,” Lucius said. “It’s a little premature to be thinking of that already.”

“Of course,” Charlie conceded. “My apologies for being so rash.”

“Will you be returning to Romania?” Lucius asked. “Is it possible for you to have time off during summer with your job, anyway,?”

“It’s hard to be thinking about the summer already,” Charlie repeated with a smile, taking Lucius’s line and stuffing it back in his own mouth.

“So, what will you and (Y/N) do to see each other?” Narcissa quickly piped in with a wife’s intuition that her husband was going to cause a scene about the manner of Charlie’s response.

“Well, I’ll try my very best to make it back to England when I can for the holidays,” Charlie promised. “But (Y/N) is also intent on visiting Romania for weeks on end if there are time constraints.”

Narcissa was startled. “And she’ll travel herself?”

“Yes, I will,” you confirmed. Charlie glanced at over you, his expression proud and thoroughly impressed at your improvisation. You gave a small smile back.

“All that travelling does take a toll on the body, especially that of a young woman,” Narcissa warned. You redirected your attention to your wine, evading her glance over.

‘Oh, mother, thank you for always being so cognizant of the state of my reproductive organs,’ you thought.

Narcissa dug further into Charlie. “Have you considered settling down in one place?”

“Not in the next couple of years,” Charlie said. He was so convincing that you could see your future reflected in the polished glass in front of you, full of Romanian castles and mountains. “Nothing like travelling when we’re young, right, (Y/N)?”

You nodded. “Absolutely. We should take all the time we need.”

“Have you thought about marriage? Children? Wouldn’t it better for a family to remain in one place, too?” Narcissa asked, oblivious to Lucius’s eye that had just twitched. The thought of you and Charlie producing off-spring might’ve been revolting for him to forget about dinner altogether.

Charlie looked solemn. “That might not be in the picture.”

You quickly looked over. This was far from what you would’ve wanted him to say, but Charlie squeezed your knee to silence you. You almost kicked up at the table.

“It’s a shared decision, is it not?” Narcissa asked.

“Yes, of course,” you added breathlessly. Best to just play along with Charlie. “And I think, I think… the same.”

“We’ll re-evaluate in ten years,” Charlie assured.

“Ten—!” Lucius finally spoke for his wife, before cutting himself off. “And you’ll be how old then, Charles?”

“Thirty-nine,” Charlie responded. Rubbing salt on the wound, he reminded your parents: “And (Y/N) will be thirty-three.”

Now it was Narcissa’s turn to look as white as a spirit. She had you when she was twenty-four, and Draco at twenty-six. Comparatively, thirty-three was geriatric.

You bit down to quell the laugh that was trying to escape your lips. Charlie knew how to make your parents tick and hit each box perfectly, like he was scoring points on the Quidditch field in his prime years. In your little ‘lullaby’, you and Charlie were having ten kids, but having none was clearly the better option. You did prefer your mother over your father and hated to make her upset, but the constant reminder on you and never Draco to be married, to bear children, to be a mother yourself, was a lot.

“Draco will obviously carry on the family name should my decision remain unchanged.” You nudged Draco with your foot. Your tone was devilish; it was time for Draco to bear the burden of everything. “Won’t you?”

Draco growled back. You both loved offloading familial duties onto each other.

“What is your reason, Charles, if you don’t mind me asking?” Narcissa asked.

“Seeing how much my parents had to sacrifice and give up for themselves,” Charlie responded, a tinge of sadness coating his voice.

Again, if Charlie Weasley needed a second career, acting wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility.

“Well, when you make the decision to have more children than you can afford, that seems like an unavoidable issue,” Lucius said hotly.

“They struggled, but I wouldn’t trade any of my siblings for anything in the world.”

The air of the room was clouded with confusion. Lucius was set out to hate Charlie, but Charlie was acting the part of a perfect, coiffed gentleman (save for the remarks about Uncle Theo’s bigger estate and inviting himself over). Narcissa, though milder than Lucius, would’ve preferred a different man for you than Charlie Weasley, but she was upset you weren’t set out to have her grandchild(ren) anytime soon. Draco, always in the mood for a snarky comment, didn’t know whether to laugh or continue to live through the horror of a conversation your parents were actually invested in.

“Very well,” Lucius said, leaning back. “It’s a shame Kingsley’s new policies have made it harder for the working class to have children.”

You groaned internally. Even Draco, who was always on his father’s side, rolled his eyes at Lucius’s favourite topic: blaming every bad thing in the world on the current Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. It was easier for him to have sway over his predecessor, Cornelius Fudge. Well, before Fudge was forced to resign over some controversies in his office.

“Undoubtedly,” Charlie backed him up with a nod. Lucius looked at him with surprise; he hadn’t expected him to agree. But you didn’t think Charlie was going to, based on the crafty smirk on his face. “It’ll take decades to undo the damage Fudge put forth in his years in office, draining funding from things like childcare and parental leave and putting that money in the pockets of his friends instead.”

There it was.

Shadows appeared on Lucius’s countenance. “Fudge did no such thing.”

Draco slammed his face into his hands.

Lucius continued. “He’s only ever introduced good policies, like the potential reintroduction of dragon domestication.”

“Having spent a decade near them, I can say they’re absolutely not suitable for domestication,” Charlie pointed out.

“The earliest of Malfoys have been domesticators of dragons,” Lucius stated. “And they did very well, before the Ministers of Magic intervened.”

It was a touchy topic for your father indeed. Centuries ago, Malfoys did the unfathomable: they domesticated dragons and the only way to do that was to really hurt the beasts. And hunted them for sport. The same terrible creatures that had power to burn down cities, the same creatures that people staked their lives to tame. But ethics and politics shook down on the practice, and dragon domestication reflected once again in a bad light.

Or that was what you’d read. Lucius preferred to say that those in power were gleeful to finally shake down on Malfoys. Maybe it was just transgenerational shame. You knew Malfoys hated being told what to do.

“For good reason. The fatality rate of those trying to domesticate dragons was beyond any acceptable threshold, and vice versa.” Charlie’s voice was now lower, more serious than you’d ever heard him. His lovely bass notes reverberated in your ear and sent a chill down your spine.

“So, what exactly is the point of your job?” Lucius asked hotly. “Don’t you, on a technicality, domesticate them?”

“I study and work with them, Mr. Malfoy,” Charlie corrected. In a battle for authority, Charlie was winning. “You can call it taming, if you’d like, so they’re less destructive to the environment and wizardkind. I can make them pliable for transport as well.”

Your eyes darted back and forth between Lucius and Charlie.

Behind Charlie’s cool and collected demeanour, you had to wonder if he was affected by your father’s words. You knew he cared deeply about dragons, never even taking more than a week off them in the past decade. He wouldn’t ever fathom hurting them for personal gain.

“Let’s have some dinner, shall we?” Narcissa said quickly. No one wanted to see Lucius riled up over politics.

The rest of dinner proceeded without a hitch, in your eyes at least. In between courses, Charlie pulled you close and whispered in your ears. You were sure this was for show because you didn’t understand anything he was saying, or maybe it was because you were too busy gazing into his deep blue eyes and studying every freckle on his cheek.

When the clock struck nine, and the last drop of coffee was had, Charlie excused himself to leave.

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy for such a delightful evening,” Charlie remarked at the door. “And for such an insightful discussion on dragon domestication, Mr. Malfoy.”

Charlie was tempting war.

“I would be happy to discuss this topic anytime, Charles,” Lucius responded icily.

Charlie hummed in agreement. “Of course.” Then, he turned to you.

In a flash, all you could see was a mouthy smirk that had definitely sunk ships in past lifetimes.

His right arm reached out to take you by the waist to spin you around. You expected him to only bid you goodnight but you were way off the mark. His lips remained silent. His left hand did all the talking by climbing to the back of your neck to position you how he wanted. He tilted your head back and inched closer and then—

His lips landed on yours.

You might’ve been flustered or pushed him away under normal circumstances, but this was no normal circumstance. Unsure of what to do, you lay immobile in his arms, like that rag doll you promised you weren’t going to be. Except you were, again. He was playing you like a marionette puppet and his hands were the strings. His grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into the fabric of the dress until you could feel each one. His lips stuck on yours like honey, like a fruit lolly from Honeydukes on a hot summer day. His eyelashes brushed against your eyelids as he tilted your head down further to deepen the kiss.

Patches of muscled torso pressed against the front of your body. Warmth seeped from his hand to the back of your neck as his palm caressed your skin while his fingers tangled themselves in your hair.

He deepened the kiss once more before pulling away.

You stumbled upwards as he withdrew himself. Your fingers ghosted over your flushed lips in disbelief, but again, no one saw. In this moment, no one cared about you.

When the stars faded and vision came to be, the first thing you saw were the agape mouths of your parents. But they weren’t going to chastise Charlie over the improper way he said goodbye; there were no words to be had.

“Have yourself a wonderful evening,” Charlie said in a manner so unaffected that you didn’t understand. He had just given you the most electric kiss you’ve ever had, and in front of your parents and brother. “And many thanks again for having me.”

NEXT CHAPTER>>

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

#charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x oc #charlie weasley x you #charlie weasley fic #charlie weasley imagine

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