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nanaslutt · 2 months

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Body search gone wrong

ʚ ft: Officer Suguru Geto

ʚ cont: fem reader, public sex, fingering, handcuffs, inappropriate body search, implied alcohol consumption but reader is sober, dirty talk, degradation, praise, spanking, rough sex, dacraphillia, hair pulling

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Your vision shook when your body was slammed down against the hood of your car, your hands held tightly behind your back. "Fuck!" You yelled, wincing at the dull pain and the freezing metal your body was pressed against. "I told you not to resist didn't I?" A deep voice rang out behind you. The officer's body heat bled through your clothes, warming you up a bit, a nice contrast from the freezing air. His knee planted between your spread legs kept you apart as the officer reached for his cuffs, the metal clinking together.

"I wasn't even fucking doing anything." You shot back, wiggling against his hold. The man's body was pressed harder against yours, the metal cuffs squeezing around your wrists. "I told you to stop resisting." You rolled your eyes. You tried to look at his face from over your shoulder, but it was already pitch black, and the light from his car behind you blinded you.

"Now you gonna answer my question? Huh?" The officer's hot breath tickled the back of your neck. When had he gotten so close? You wriggled your shoulders against the car, silently telling him to back off. "I was at a fucking party dipshit, why do you think I'm dressed like this?" You said, your words coming out harshly.

The officer clicked his tongue, his lip curling at your attitude. "Such a disobedient girl. I don't think you're in a position to fight with me right now." The officer abruptly yanked you up, your dress threatening to roll up even further than it already has. He kept a hand between the two of you, gripping your wrist harshly to make sure you couldn't run.

His other hand grabbed the bottom half of your face, and before you knew it, your head was being turned to the side so he could have a better look at you. You instantly sobered up, all of the anger leaving your body when you came face to face with him. His eyes were sharp and slanted, dark. His face looked like it had been hand sculpted by gods, and his long hair flowing out from under his work hat looked so soft, you wanted to reach out and touch it.

"Such a pretty face. How unfortunate it would've been if you'd died while drunk driving." The officer spat, clicking his tongue again. He shook his head at you, looking at you disapprovingly as he scanned your face. "I'm not even drunk, 's just late it all, had a long night." You retorted, avoiding his face as you felt a warmth spread through your body.

"Oh yeah, I can see that." He responded, looking at you smugly. You could only stand in astonishment as his thumb wiped down the side of your lip, collecting the smeared lipstick that was smudged on your face. When he pulled his hand away you could see the maroon color of your lipstick on his thumb, making your face burn at his words insinuation. "You can't fool me, girl, you reek of alcohol." He added, letting you turn your head away from him again.

You stayed quiet, looking out into the dark forest around you. The officer took a moment to lean back unnoticeably and scan his eyes over the backside of your body, his eyebrows raised at what he saw. "You got any weapons on you?" He suddenly said, making your face scrunch in confusion. The dress you were wearing barely covered your body, the fabric probably too thin, where on earth would you be hiding a weapon?

"Oh yeah forgot to mention I'm strapped because I have sooo many places to hide a weapon on me right now." You retorted, snorting at his suggestion. "Oh, so you got jokes now?" He responded, "What changed? You were acting like you wanted to knock me out a couple of minutes ago."

The officer's banter and casual talk with you made your veins pop out in your head in annoyance. Pretty privilege really did exist, because although he was right, you still wanted to kick him in the balls, you also wanted him to have his way with you in ways you probably shouldn't.

You stayed silent, pressing your lips together firmly so as to not say something you would regret. "You done jokin' around now? That was fast." the officer responded before walking you forward into the car. Your knees hit the rubber of your tire, the man's body follows right behind yours, pressing firmly against you. You could feel every bump and ridge of the weapons on his belt against your back.

"Legs." He said, a little too quiet to sound demanding. You obeyed, spreading your legs to make room for him. The throbbing between your legs was much more intense now, there was no way he didn't know what he was doing. His knee pressing firmly between your own, centimeters from your cunt, made you swallow hard, your breath picking up.

Your wrist was released from his harsh grip, your arm instantly throbbing hot as blood flowed back into that area. His hands started at your sides, just under your arms. You thought officers were supposed to use the back of their hands when they searched someone, but you must've been mistaken because officer whoever he was was groping your body with his palms.

His large palms slid under your tits before sliding down to your stomach, pressing firmly against you. "You body search everyone like this?" You asked, leaning your body back slightly against him. "Or just drunk girls?" He didn't seem to like your insinuation as you were slammed back down against the hood of your car, his hand on your lower back. "Thought you weren't drunk?" He responded, his hand slowly sliding down your back, almost teasingly.

You bit your lip, hoping he couldn't see your face from here in the darkness. His hands grabbed your hips before rubbing down your bare thighs. Your knees threatened to buckle, his touch was so warm. The officer got down on his knees and felt your legs, your legs only clan in a tight pair of thigh-high socks with small black heels resting against your feet. It was obvious you weren't hiding a weapon there.

Geto circled your ankle with his hand before grabbing the bottom of your shoe with another hand, pulling your foot out as if he were checking your shoe. You pointed your foot at him before rolling it around dramatically. "Pervert." You whispered under your breath, a word you thought he wouldn't hear. Looking up, he had a perfect view of your panties from under your tiny party dress, the black lace panties barely covering anything.

Giving your foot one last rub, he placed your heel back on your foot before raising to his feet again, his hips connecting with your ass once more. "Did you find what you were looking for, officer?" You said, trying to look back at him, wiggling your hips against him as you spoke. "I haven't finished checking everywhere." He replied with a hint of mischievousness laced in his voice, making you raise your eyebrows in confusion.

Suddenly, your bare ass was exposed to the cold air around you, sending a wave of chills over your body. "Might be hiding something here. Can't take any chances." Geto spoke, a smile creeping on his face when your knees pressed together, your hips wiggling more impatiently back against him. "You're right, I could be dangerous." You teased, smiling as you pulled your lip between your teeth.

The cold you once felt against your skin was replaced by two large hands, grabbing and massaging the fat of your ass. You made a noise of surprise at his rough handling of your body. Your breathing picked up, his thumbs massaging so close to where you desperately needed to feel him. You would absolutely be telling this story to your girlfriends when you got outta this mess.

"Do I have your permission to search you down here?" The officer asked the sudden ask for your go-ahead catching you a little off guard after how much he's already done, not like you minded. "If I say no are you gonna let me go officer?" you teased, arching your back against him. Geto pressed his lips together and looked down at you rubbing yourself against his bulge. He wondered if you knew what you were feeling was his cock or if you thought it was some weapon on his holster.

Your back was enveloped with a sudden warmth, making you release a few aroused hums through your breathing as you felt Geto's breath tickle against your neck. "Yeah, I'll stop... but I don't think you want that, do you?" He asked, biting your earlobe between your teeth. You had forgotten how things got to this point, but you were far from complaining.

"No sir..." You replied, voice all breathy and full of need. "I know." He replied, his hand reaching under your body to rub his fingers firmly against your clit. Your jaw opened against the car in a silent moan, an action Geto mimicked. "You're soaked." Geto groaned against your ear, his cock throbbing in his pants. You only moaned in reply, your eyes rolling back in your head as his thick fingers rubbed expertly against your little bud, your wetness seeping through the fabric and onto his fingers.

"Fuck... officer..." You whined, wiggling against him, your hands pulling against the cuffs. "Suguru." He replied, kissing right under your ear, "Call me Suguru sweet thing." You nodded before releasing a sweet moan of his name, a sound that was greatly appreciated and swiftly rewarded by him pulling your panties to the side. His hot fingers against your bare clit with nothing between made you press your thighs together.

"You like that pretty?" He whispered, his deep voice sending pangs of arousal to your cunt. "Uh-huh." You nodded, trying to look at his face through your fuzzy eyes. "You want 'em inside you?" He asked, teasing you by rubbing his fingers down to your entrance, only rubbing circles around the hole there. You nodded quickly, tears nearly forming in your eyes. "P-please Suguru... please."

"Look at me." He responded, his voice calm but breathy. You did as he said as he brought his head to the side of your face, reducing the strain on your eyes. His gorgeous face came into view as a shadow blocked it from the light of his car. "That's it, keep looking at me." He nodded, licking his lips as he rubbed delicious circles against your tight hole. Your eyes fluttered as you fought them from rolling back in your head, not wanting to miss a single thing.

Suguru's jaw fell open ever so slightly as he started pressing a single finger against your wet opening. He groaned with you as your pussy greedily swallowed up his finger, your tight walls squeezing around him at the intrusion. "Oh fuck, it's so warm." He groaned, his eyebrows furrowing together. You finally let your eyes roll back in your head before they fluttered shut at the pleasure.

Geto slowly thrust his finger in and out of you a few times before he pulled it almost completely out and added a second finger. Your cunt welcomed the stretch, your wetness spilling out around them. Geto rutted his hips needily against your ass, trying to bring his dripping cock some relief as he dealt with how tight and hot you felt around his fingers.

"Move your hips, fuck that ass back against me baby. Take what you need." He groaned, standing back up and keeping a hand on your lower back. He pushed your dress higher up your body, exposing the mid of your back while he finger fucked you. Now that he was standing, the base of his fingers and palm were pressing against your clit, making you see starts as you did your best to move your hips against him.

You whined when he curled his fingers, matching your slow pace. "Please... please faster Suguru please-" You gasped, your legs shaking at such a small amount of pleasure already. He clicked his tongue against his teeth and smiled while shaking his head. "You can't even follow simple instructions, can you? Dumb girl." With those words Suguru's left a harsh smack against your bare ass, making you yelp before he places his hand next to your body on the car and started pistoning his fingers in and out of you.

"Yeah- yeah fuck- just like that-" You cried shamelessly, your hands clenching and unclenching in your restraints. "You like it rough? Huh?" Suguru groaned, feeling himself leak pre-cum against his boxers hearing the loud squelching emant from between your legs. "Yeahh- yeah I love it-" You cried, nodding while you whined through your teeth, your hips wiggling and bouncing back against him on their own.

"You're so filthy y'know that?" He groaned, curling his fingers against your g-spot each time he thrust his fingers inside, making your brain short-circuit. "S-says the cop fucking a g-girl he pulled over for drunk driving," You responded, giggling through your moans. Suguru returned a short laugh, his eyebrows raising at your words. "I'm not even fucking you." He replied. "You want me to? My fingers not enough for you?" Geto teased.

You bit your lip and sucked a breath in through your teeth, feeling your orgasm steadily approaching. "M-make me cum like this first, a-almost there." You begged, your eyebrows pinching together. Geto laughed, shaking his head at your shamelessness. "Only because I'm feeling nice." He replied, curling his fingers harder against you.

He did his best to rub his palm against your clit in a way that stimulated it just right, making your walls tighten as you got closer and closer to your high. "Fuck- right there oh- ohmygod right there-" You cried, your legs starting to shake, your body jerking and twitching against the car. "Yeah... cum all over my fingers so I can fuck you over the hood of this car." He groaned, pulling his lips between his teeth as he watched you shake and writhe for him.

Your moans got quiet and your jaw fell open in a silent scream as you came all over his fingers, your walls squeezing tightly against them, making it hard for him to move. "Good girllll, good fucking girl." He praised, rutting his hips against your ass as your body jerked and shook against him. Your legs threatened to give out from under you, but you knew even if they did, he would catch you.

Geto pulled his fingers out from your wetness, leaving you to catch your breath and recover from your orgasm. His warm hand patted softly against your ass before it retracted and you heard a clinking sound followed by a zipper.

You tried to turn your head enough to look at what he was doing but your head was shoved back against the cold metal of the car by his large hand. You could hear the squelches from behind you as Geto jerked himself off over your ass, his cock occasionally tapping your ass as he stroked himself. "Don't look, don't want you to get scared and run away now." He said, a smile on his face that you couldn't see.

His words made you swallow hard, was he really that big? So big he was afraid you would tap out? "Just p-put it in already." You begged, pretending to be confident about taking his size as you wiggled your hips back agaisnt him. "You sure are eager huh? You must really not want a DUI on your record." He teased before running his hand down your shoulder blades, over your arms, and pressing against your lower back.

"It's not that." You said, your voice breathy and full of lust. "You're the hottest cop I've ever seen, wanted to fuck you from the moment I saw your face." You smiled, your eyes barely catching him from out of your peripherals. You gasped when you felt his blunt head press against your cunt. He rubbed his tip against you, getting ready to push it in. "Such a sweetheart," Geto replied before you felt the burn of his cock stretching you open.

Your hands balled into fists, your arms jerking against the cuffs as your walls were forced to make room for his cock. A tear immediately welled up in your eyes from the overwhelming feeling. It wasn't all painful, it was just so much, he was filling you up completely. "Good girl, just relax and take it... there you go..." Suguru soothed, his eyes raking up your body as he fully penetrated you with his cock, his hand staying against your lower back.

"Holy ffffuck-" You gasped, fighting to catch your breath as he stilled inside you, giving you a second to adjust to his length. It felt like he was in your stomach, you couldn't imagine how it was going to feel when he actually started fucking you. "It's big huh? You feel it all the way in there? Stretchin' you open?" Geto teased, his thumb wiping the tear from your face before he brought it up to his mouth and licked it off.

"S-suguru- I-its so much, s-so deep-" You cried, being able to do nothing but whine and cry while his heavy cock rested inside you. He smiled before leaning his chest over your body and kissing your cheek, his lips eagerly catching any stray tears that fell. "I know, but you're gonna take it aren't you? Gonna take it even when I cum isn't that right?" He groaned against the side of your face, his hot breath tickling you, making goosebumps arise down your spine.

Geto slowly pulled his hips out of you before thrusting them back inside, fighting the urge to whine like a bitch at how good your pussy felt. "I asked you a question," Geto repeated, biting your earlobe as he continued slowly thrusting in and out of you, pulling as much of his cock out of you as he could before thrusting it back inside, making sure you were feeling it nice and deep.

You cried out before nodding, your moans broken and whiney from just a few thrusts. "Cos you're a good girl, just a good little cockhungry slut." He whispered, picking up his thrusts, his own words riling him up. You nodded, hardly even registering his words as he spoke. His cock was rubbing agaisnt your g-spot so perfectly, it was making you dumb. Combined with his balls slapping against your sensitive clit after each thrust, you were slowly becoming cock drunk.

"God this pussy is so tight... can barely move." Geto groaned, his eyes fluttering in their sockets before he fucked against you harshly, making his tip fuck right into your sweet spot. The moan you released made his balls throb, it was so desperate and feral.

He leaned up off of your back once more, staring down at the place the two of you were connected. The fat of your ass rippled each time he fucked his hips against yours, making a dopey grin spread across his face. Your juices were already getting all over his work pants. Anyone with half a brain would know what that was if they saw it in the light. "You're so sloppy, such a messy pussy." Suguru groaned, landing a mean slap across your ass that echoed into the woods before he pulled his hips back and fucked you harder, finding a quicker pace.

"O-oh fuck Suguru- It's so deep holy shit-" You cried, more tears spilling from your eyes. You felt a hand grab the back of your head and nails scratch at your scalp and before you knew it you were being forced to stand your full weight on the ground as your back arched meanly into him. Suguru released a long groan, his cock getting constricted even more in this new position.

Moan after moan was fucked from your lips each time he brought his hips against your ass. Loud and vulgar squelching noises cried from between your legs as more wetness drenched his cock and pants. Your scalp burned from where he was gripping you, but it felt good nonetheless.

"Feels 's good Suguru, fucking me s' good-" you cried, hot tears seemingly neverending spilling down your cheeks. You were sure to have red, puffy eyes after this. "Yeah? You like my cock baby?" Geto groaned at the praise, his cock throbbing in tandem. You nodded before crying again. "L-love it s-so much, 's gonna make me cum, you're gonna make me cum~" You whined, your legs shaking violently now.

Geto wrapped his hand around your thigh, taking some of the weight off your legs, his other releasing your hair and wrapping firmly around your torso, keeping you firmly against him, your cuffed hands getting squished between your bodies. "Me too pretty, g-gonna make me cum too." He replied, his face flushed from your praise. His balls twitched and throbbed with the need to spill his seed, but he had to make you cum first.

Geto used the hand he was previously using to hold your thigh to rub small circles against your clit. Your body jolted forward and forced you and Geto against the car again, your bodies firmly together as he kept rubbing your clit, trying to work you through it. "Cum for me baby, cum for me so I can fill you up." His words made you feel hot all over. The promise of getting filled up by him made you squeeze his cock harder, your eyes fluttering shut as he pushed you over the edge.

Your body convulsed violently as you came. Geto buried his head in the crook of your neck, his jaw clenching together as you came on him, his cock getting constricted. He couldn't even speak enough to tell you he was cumming, or even praise you for doing so before his balls were throbbing and he was chasing after you, releasing his seed deep into your cunt.

You both groaned at the feeling. It was so warm, you felt so full. It must've been a long time since he came because his orgasm seemed to go on forever. His hand stilled on your clit as his body jerked against yours, his abs clenching under his shirt. He only relaxed when his cock stopped kicking and he was sure he had hummed each rope of his cum inside you, making sure you were stuffed full.

Despite how deep he came inside you, when he pulled his cock out his cum still chased him, spilling out of your cunt. He quickly stopped any more from getting out by situating your now ruined panties back into place, keeping you full of him. Geto pressed a kiss to your nape before he leaned up and tucked his cock into his pants. Undoing his belt quickly, he retrieved the key to the cuffs and set you free.

"Easy." He whispered, helping you sit up and face him. You rubbed your wrists, now red and irritated from the hard metal. "You just looked so pretty all restrained, didn't wanna take them off." Geto half apologized before scooping you up in his arms and placing you down on the hood of the car, relieving the stress on your legs. You were still dazed and a bit fucked out, but his words made you smile.

"Plus I could'a been dangerous, right?" You teased, playing with his belt. He returned your smile, placing his hands on the side of the car next to you, his face inches from yours. "You coulda been dangerous." He responded, dipping his head in your neck for a kiss before he pulled away. "Let me take you home. I'll have someone bring your car to you in the morning, you're in no state to drive right now." He said, stepping back and holding his hands out for you, helping you off the car slowly.

You raised your eyebrows, catching yourself from stumbling as you stood on your incredibly shaky legs. "Wow, you're so nice officer." You teased, poking his chest before you started walking in front of him. Geto smirked before following you, keeping his hand wrapped on your lower back in case you fell as he walked you over to the passenger side of his car. "It's my duty to keep the public safe." He said with a wink before he lifted you into the passenger seat.

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casiia · 5 months

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༉‧₊˚. — simon 'GHOST' riley; smile for the camera.

warnings .: x reader, smut, mdni 18+, very slight exhibition (i think?), v! penetration, choking, size kink, female reader, unedited.

.: masterlist.

simon has STACKS of polaroids of you for when he’s next deployed. you had bought the polaroid camera, all excited to pick up a new hobby; photography. he thought it was stupid, but doesn’t stop you and your aspiring career. you’re taking pictures of everything for the next few weeks. capturing every memory the two of you shared, and piles of pictures were scattered around each room in the house — random ones, blurred ones, blank ones that didn’t develop right.

when you suggest taking pictures for him one night, he doesn’t seem to catch the hint. why’d he have to waste his precious time and take pictures of you when you’re right here?

he still doesn’t understand. he huffs when you climb off of his lap and scurry into your shared bedroom, the soft mutters of the christmas movie you put on for background noise the only thing that catches his attention — and it annoys him. you come back, your shirt hiked up over your bra and the bulky coral-colored camera in hand.

you sit back onto his lap, shoving the polaroid into his hand and guiding his finger onto the button. he accidentally clicks it, a flash blinding you momentarily and you laugh.

“eager are we?”

he sucked on his teeth, his eyes rolling at your poor attempt to tease him. his free hand moves to your waist and dips his fingers below the hem of your shorts. you swat his hand away with a pout, mumbling something about patience but he’s too horny to hear – or care.

simon lowers the camera as you begin to pull your shirt over your head, you whine and tell him to hold it right. but he snaps back and complains that it’s blocking his view.

it’s your turn to roll your eyes, and you pout and tell him just to listen to you. he begrudgingly listens, muttering a retort under his breath that makes you smack his arm and shift off of his lap. but he’s quick to tug you back, saying he’s sorry and you’re just teasing him too much.

you shake your head, your finger hovering his, over the shutter button. you reach back with the other and undo your bra, letting it slip from your shoulder and into his lap. it’s then when you press down and simon takes a picture, your bare breast developing on the film as it slides out the exit slot. now he understands.

he watches with tight lips, waiting for the picture to develop and practically watching it turn into gold in front of his eyes. simon laughs in disbelief and looks at you, he wonders if this was your plan all along. play with it for a little before using it to make souvenirs for him, what a good girlfriend you were.

the hours blend and he has you bent and folded in every position he knows. it’s so embarrassing, and you find yourself covering your face or squeezing your thighs together, now trying to sheepishly hide from the lens.

but he tuts, reminding you that it was your idea. you can’t hide from him and if you try, he’ll keep you up all night — until he’s filled his album with enough pictures to relive any memory of you in bed.

he’s leaned back onto the sofa, one hand in your hair and one hand holding up the camera. he’s groaning loudly as you gag around his cock, your wide eyes fluttering up to meet his. he’s drooling at the sight, tears staining your blushed cheeks and dripping down your chin.

simon spreads his legs and angles the camera down to catch a glimpse of the way you have a hand wrapped around the base of his cock — too big for you to fit it all in your mouth. he snaps a picture, the flash making little dots cloud your vision.

you giggle, pulling your lips off of him to which he annoyingly grunts, trying to push back into your mouth.

“how many more of these are y’gonna take?”

you ask, pressing your cheek into the inside of his thigh. you’re not even looking at him anymore, so focused on his cock and the way your saliva makes his foreskin glisten.

he can’t resist, simon takes another picture and pulls the developing film from the dispenser, tossing it into the pile with the other pictures he’s taken. your face just looks so small aligned with his cock, the angle making him so much larger than he was.

“m’takin as many as i want. what am i gonna do when i miss you when i’m away and need to release some stress?”

simon tugs at your hair, nodding over to the cushions next to him. his hands immediately find your waist when you stand and he pushes you down into the couch. your hair sprawling over the pillows as you look up at him with wide eyes.

another giggle escapes you, your hand covers your mouth to suppress the laughter. it wasn’t that you were surprised about him being so needy, it’s the way he had a mountain of pictures lazily tossed into a pile. film wrappers crumpled lazily and strewn across the coffee table, the packages once holding refills for the film.

“what’s funny, bun?”

simon’s voice is hoarse, he’s spreading your legs and another picture is added to his collection. the way your cunt is glistening with the flash, your juices smeared on your inner thighs. he swears he’s going to cherish these forever, keep them around til’ they are all tattered and barely visible.

your breath is knocked from your lungs, and you can’t form words no matter how hard you try. he’s sliding his cock in between your folds, nudging your clit with his angry red tip. you whine, your hips bucking up to meet his, needing more friction to ease your arousal; and he takes another picture, how he wishes these images could capture sounds.

he’s pressing his fat, heavy cock against your stomach, a groan spilling from his lips when his tip is leaking just below your belly button. simon smears his precum against your skin, translucent globs dribbling from his slit.

“look at that, gonna be in your fuckin’ stomach.”

simon grins at the sight, but before he gives you the pleasure of filling you up, he’s leaning over you and pressing his lips to your neck. your fingernails dig into his shoulders, crescents forming under your touch, and a slew of apologies is mumbled under your shaky breath.

he hums into the crook of your neck, nipping harshly at your skin before dragging his rough tongue over the spot — soothing the bite. simon trails down to your breast, leaving a path of love bites and covering you in his mark.

while he has you distracted, he shifts his hips and pushes himself into you slowly sinking in inch by inch before he’s balls deep. he leans back and he groans at the sight, you are completely exposed for him with his bitemarks sloppily etched into your skin, a bulge forming in your belly. he slides his calloused hand up in between the valley of your breast and he wraps his hand around your neck, he squeezes lightly, and when you moan quietly as if flustered like it’s the first time he has you filled with his cock — he snaps another picture. afraid that this moment will vanish.

that was the last of the film that he has. but god, it’s worth it. he promises he’ll buy you more in the morning, but he’s dropped the camera and holding you close. his throbbing cock plunging in and out of your squelching cunt, your juices painting his abdomen, shining his muscles under the dim light.

when he has to leave, he gathers EVERY SINGLE ONE and hides it in between the pages of an old magazine. no one would be caught dead snooping through his things, but it was a precaution he took because he didn’t want you exposed for all of his teammates to see. you were his, and he was never one of share.

AN: guys...i don't even have words tbh. just simon and like he WOULD take so many pics i'm just sooo :((( urgh. i hate him. if i missed any warnings lmk!

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mariespen · 3 months

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Hands Off ༉‧₊˚

overprotective!rafe cameron x fem!reader summary: rafe lets his girl go to a pogue party under one condition warnings: description on injury, description of fighting, mild descriptions of assault, swearing

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

“You’re funny, princess. Go take your jokes somewhere else.” Rafe said, rolling his eyes, obviously annoyed as he walked out of the kitchen.

“Rafe, come on..” You started to protest, drawing out the ’n’ and sounding a bit more whiny than you wanted to.

He sighed with irritation as he turned back around. He looked at you like you were absolutely out of your mind. You met his eyes with your own innocent look, trying everything you could to convince him to let you go.

The Pogues were throwing a party on their side of the island and of course, you were invited. Rafe already didn’t want you anywhere near them, so immediately you knew your biggest obstacle was going to be your short-tempered boyfriend. It didn’t help that he wouldn’t let you get a word in so you couldn’t even give the whole ‘convincing’ act a try.

“Baby, I said no.” He finished, walking fully out of the room and up the stairs with blatant frustration.

You walked behind him, trying to come up with a plan. You went into your shared bedroom blind, planning on saying whatever came out of our mouth first. He was already on the bed, scrolling through his phone mindlessly when you walked in.

“I’m going, Rafe.” You said sternly, quickly changing your body language to that you were standing up straight with your arms at your side, making every attempt to seem confident in what you were saying.

“No, you’re not.” He said with a laugh, looking at you like he was mocking you.

“Yes I am.” You bit back, walking to your closet to grab the outfit that you had already picked out for yourself.

He rolled his eyes from his place on the bed as you got changed, ready to turn you down again. You tried to keep your head up as you pulled on a skimpy bikini top and bottoms, covering your lower half with a detailed mesh skirt. You sighed, the colors complimenting your skin and everything hugging you perfectly. With your newfound confidence, you strolled out into the bedroom, going to start packing your purse as casually as you could muster. You felt his furious eyes on you when you walked out and you heard him sit up.

“You are not.” He said, standing up off the bed and moving to your side, grabbing your cheeks and turning your face to look at his, “Princess, you are not going to this party.” “Yes I am, Rafe.” You said, trying to keep your confidence as he towered over you.

“No, no you are not. You’re gonna stay in with me, a’ight?” He said, holding your hips and trying to pull you away from your bag.

“Rafe, yes I am,” You said, turning around to face him and putting your hands on your hips in frustration, “And you can either watch me go or go with me.” His eyes lit up and you instantly knew that you made the wrong choice of words.

“Y’know what? I think I’ll go with you.” He said with a smile, walking off to the closet just as you did before.

“No.. wait!” You called after him, walking into the closet as he picked out a more suitable outfit.

“No, no. I’m taking you up on your offer.” Rafe said casually, looking at you with a small, sly smile.

You watched him getting ready, seeing him change his shirt and button it as you stood there helplessly, trying to form a working thought. He finished, moving to kiss you at your place in the doorway. You kissed back, your mind clouding over even more as he took your hand and led you to the bedroom again.

“Ready?” He asked and you nodded in defeat, grabbing your purse off the bed.

He led you out, the house already darkening from the sunset. You slipped on a pair of sandals and he did too. Rafe kissed the top of your head before walking away for a minute, visibly grabbing a gun and shoving it into his waistband.

“Rafe, put it back.” You warned, trying to sound intimidating but he laughed you off, spinning you around and then opening the door for you.

“I said I was comin’.. may as well be prepared.” He said, winking at you.

You rolled your eyes, walking out to the car with your arms crossed. It was warm enough, but there was still a cold breeze at your shoulders and you shivered. You got in, Rafe doing the same not long after.

“Don’t look at me like that, princess.” He said, his eyes lingering on your frustrated face.

You turned away from him, sighing a bit for dramatics. You tried to stifle a laugh when he reached out, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly. You turned to meet his eyes and he greeted you with a smile, kissing you the moment you faced him. For the rest of the drive Rafe’s hand was resting on your thigh and your face was turned to the window, thoughts spinning in your head.

It took a few minutes, but you eventually got to the party. There was a good amount of people and Rafe looked at you from his place in the driver’s seat. You looked back and he immediately pulled you closer, kissing you and sloppily leaving marks on your neck.

“Rafe!” You said, pushing him off with a soft giggle as he marked you up.

“What? Js makin’ sure these pogues know you’re mine.” He said, going back to it and you squirmed a bit, finally getting him to let go.

The two of you walked to the part of the sandy beach that the party was being held at. You looked around, a little intimidated by the amount of people that your friends had managed to bring together. Rafe’s hand was on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd.

You met eyes with Kiara and Sarah, feeling Rafe’s annoyance as he saw his sister there too. The two girls looked at you in shock, partly because you managed to come and the other part was left questioning why on earth you brought Rafe Cameron to a pogue party. You approached them haphazardly with a nervous smile while Rafe stayed by your side.

“Hi guys..” You said as Kie returned your nervous smile and Sarah eyed Rafe.

“What are you doing here?” Sarah spat at Rafe, rolling her eyes when he took a step in front of you.

“Protecting my girl, and you?” He asked with a scoff.

“Rafe c’mon.” You said, stepping out from behind him and talking to Kie.

“Why..” Kie started in a hushed tone, but you waved it off, walking away from Rafe to see John B and JJ.

JJ smiled at you, seeing you walking up with Kiara. Luckily Rafe was keeping a distance, finding some of his own friends to distract himself with.

“Hey, princess!” JJ said and your eyes widened at the nickname as he walked over to the two of you with drinks.

Apparently, Rafe wasn’t as far as you thought, because the moment those words left JJ’s mouth, you felt Rafe’s protective hand on your back yet again.

“JJ.” Rafe said, greeting him for you with a glare.

“Really?” JJ said, his shoulders slumping when he saw Rafe.

JJ looked at you for help and all you could do was shrug and walk up to him.

“Hi, JJ.” You said with a smile, grabbing the drink from him and taking a long sip.

You felt Rafe’s hand come to the cup as he brought it away from your lips and took a sip for himself. You rolled your eyes, taking it back and starting to walk with Kiara again. Rafe followed you and kept a close eye on the other people around you, making sure no one said anything about his girl.

The night went on and you talked with your friends, dancing and letting the alcohol warm you up. Rafe kept a soft hold on your body for most of the time, occasionally letting you dance and instead keeping himself busy by talking with some of his friends. It was pitch black outside and you were slowly getting tired, the original energy that you had was fading off. You went to find Rafe, surprised to see that he wasn’t at your shoulder. You spun around, looking for him and separating from your group.

You felt a pair of hands on your waist, sighing in relief and going to tell Rafe you wanted to go home.

“Baby can we-“ You stopped yourself, realizing that the man who was touching you wasn’t Rafe.

Immediately you shoved him off of you, trying to walk away. He grabbed your arm and panic coursed through your body as you felt his grip tighten.

“C’mon..” The man said, looking at you with drunken eyes, “You’re so pretty, let me see you.” You pulled against him, freeing yourself. You tried to walk away again, feeling anxiety bubbling in your chest. His hands returned to you, pulling your body into his. Tears started to well in your eyes and you closed your eyes, squirming and pushing yourself away.

You felt his hold on you become still and you opened your eyes just as Rafe pushed him fully off of you. Rafe yelled something that you couldn’t understand and gently pushed you to the side before the man stood back up, taking a swing at Rafe, who seemed unbothered as he flashed his gun and took a few swings himself.

You’ve always hated it when he fought, so you looked down at the sand and just listened quietly to the grunts and punches, the occasional cheering becoming more common as the crowd around you became bigger. Eventually you felt Kiara grab you, pulling you away while Sarah and John B pulled Rafe off of the bloody man beneath him.

Your panicked breathing caught back up to you as Kiara pulled you away from the crowd. Your heart dropped as you saw Rafe’s bloody face, hearing John B tell the two of you to leave before the police showed up.

“Are you okay?” Kie whispered to you and you nodded, hugging and thanking her before going to Rafe.

He grinned at you, wiping a bit of blood from his lip before kissing you. You kissed back before pulling away and leading him to the car, checking on him constantly.

“Are you okay, baby?” You asked, touching his busted lip and bloody nose with caution as you walked.

“M’fine.” Rafe said with a smile, holding you close to him, “are you okay, princess?” He asked, kissing the top of your head as he unlocked the car.

You slid into the passenger seat, nodding and trying to calm your breathing. He noticed, putting a hand on your thigh before beginning to drive off.

“You’re okay, a’ight? Told you I’d protect you.” He said, rubbing your skin with his thumb.

“Thank you.” You whispered, putting your hand over his.

��Anytime, yeah?” He said with a smile, “You’re mine, won’t let another man touch you, won’t let em’ hurt you.”

You held his arm to your body through the drive, burying your face in his body the best that you could. He eventually calmed you down as you pulled up to the house. He got out quickly, opening the door for you and helping you out.

You made him sit at the kitchen island, getting out the heavily packed first-aid kit that his family kept in the kitchen. He sat still as you wiped the blood from his lips and the drops that hit his chin. He put his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him and looking up at you with glossy eyes as you wiped the blood from his nose, bandaging the small cuts that scattered his face. His hands wandered from your hips to your back and then down to your ass, grinning up at you as you finished placing the last band-aid on his eyebrow.

“My pretty lady..” He said, kissing you with his swollen lips.

You giggled, kissing back before pulling away, “C’mon tough guy, let’s get to bed.”

He got up, letting you take him upstairs and scattering your neck with dark hickeys the moment you closed the door. You tried to stifle a giggle, eventually pushing his head away and getting changed out of your skimpy outfit. He did the same, getting into bed after you.

“I love you, baby.” You said, letting him hold you close as your hands found their way to his hair.

“Love you too, princess,” He said, kissing your cheek and relaxing into your soft touch, “I always protect what’s mine, yeah?”

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #mariespen #outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe drabble #rafe cameron drabble #overprotective rafe #obx fic #obx #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff

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togenabi · 7 months

Text

pick me up

roronoa zoro (opla) x reader

♡—zoro never paid your jokes or pickup lines any mind. that is, until something happens that makes you stop.

word count♡— 3.2k

genre♡— mild angst, fluff, straw hat!reader

content notes♡— opla zoro, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and tells very bad jokes, creepy dude oc, don't be creepy be cool yall, reader pulls off a heist with nami, zoro gets jealous, alcohol consumption, no use of y/n, barely proofread

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is a request from anon! I'm sorry if I tweaked a few things, I'm not the best at angst hhhh I hope you still like it!

“Okay, okay. Wait. I got it this time.” You say, already trying to keep from laughing.

“Why were the kids having trouble in pirate class?”

Zoro only side-eyes you with his arms crossed, vehemently unimpressed.

“Because they were overbored!”

Watching for his reaction intently, you keep your eyes focused on his face... Nothing changes.

You tsk, but aren’t seriously discouraged. This is how he always reacts to your jokes, after all. “I’ll get you one of these days, Roronoa Zoro.”

The swordsman only sighs, leaning back into his seat to take a nap. “You do that.”

“Don’t listen to him, love.” Sanji says from the other side of the kitchen as he cleans the counter. “I thought that joke was good.”

“You’re lying, but I appreciate the sentiment, Sanji.” You grin at him. Focusing back on the book you were reading, you miss the amused, challenging look Sanji sends Zoro.

Everyone hears Luffy approaching the kitchen before he enters. “Guys!” He bellows. “We’ll be reaching land soon. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes!”

The majority of the day is spent restocking supplies. You were all split up into pairs, but before you left, Luffy pointed to a restaurant with a flashy, illuminated sign on top that reads: ‘Bistro of Light’. How cringey of them.

“We should meet there for dinner! You don’t mind taking a break, right, Sanji?” Luffy asks eagerly, and you think that no one could say no to him when he’s so enthusiastic. Sanji nods, and you all go through the town until the sun starts to set.

The inside of the restaurant is just as ridiculous as the sign outside. Chandeliers of every color hang on the ceiling. Huge fish tanks and fountains lined with lights almost blind you. You laugh when looking at it all causes Zoro to wince.

“Hey Zoro,” You call for him. “You know what’s faster than the speed of light?”

“...”

“My heartbeat when I think of you!” You wink at him, proud of the joke even when he only sighs and looks away.

Usopp walks up to a receptionist standing behind a desk. “Hey. Table for six, if you would be so kind.”

“I’m afraid we’re at full capacity at the moment.” They respond. “You’ll have to wait, is that alright?”

Everyone shares a look. Except for Luffy, who looks dead set on eating here, you all feel unsure about waiting.

“When’s the next table going to be available?” Usopp asks. “We’re actually a really big deal. It’s gonna be really embarrassing for you guys if you don’t let us in.” The person frowns, face screaming, ‘is this guy serious’?

But before they can reply, a booming voice enters the restaurant. A tall man, dressed in a pristine white suit and wearing jewels on every finger, pushes you out of the way to yell at the receptionist. You stumble, but thankfully Zoro is there to catch you.

“What on earth is going on here?! Why are there so many people crowding the entryway?!” He fumes, angrily gesturing to your group.

“If they’re not going to eat, then I strongly suggest—” The rich man freezes suddenly, his eyes trained on you.

You keep your face as emotionless as possible, but you die laughing inside when Nami swipes a brooch from his jacket while he’s distracted with you.

“Ah,” The man says. His tone softening a considerable amount as he walks over to you. “I thought I had the best jewels in my treasury, but you're the most radiant gem I've ever laid my eyes on.” It takes everything in you to not back away. Zoro tenses beside you.

“Why haven’t these guests been guided to a table?” He asks, turning back to the receptionist.

“We’re at full capacity, Sir.” Oh. He must own the place. It makes sense that the owner is as gaudy as everything else in here.

“That won’t do.” He looks back to you, and you swear you could feel your skin crawl under his gaze.

“I am Helios. Welcome to my establishment.” The man introduces himself with a flourish, bowing to you. His jewels and gold accessories glint in the light. “What might your name be?”

Reluctantly, you introduce yourself. Had this been a normal situation, you would have turned around and walked away from him the second he saw you. But, you could feel the crew going hungry, and you’re sure Nami will want to snag another ring or two—so you play nice.

Helios smiles, repeating your name. He was probably trying to sound romantic, but he’s not doing anything for you. Not when Zoro says your name much better.

You keep Zoro’s voice in mind, remembering how nice it sounds. It’s easier to smile at Helios that way. Time to lay on the charm, “I was really looking forward to having dinner here. I don’t suppose you could help us out?”

“Follow me, my dear. You deserve to dine upstairs. The view is simply spectacular at this hour.” Helios holds out his hand to you, but Luffy—bless his soul—grabs it to shake it zealously.

“Thanks so much for letting us eat here, Mr. Helios!” Luffy claps him on the back. Helios looks dumbfounded, and the crew does an impressive job keeping their composure.

Helios tries to walk beside you as he guides you all upstairs, but Zoro is steadfast on your right, and Nami smartly positions herself on your left. Luffy and Usopp tug the restaurant owner along, chatting his ear off. You almost feel bad for him.

Nami murmurs, her voice carefully silent so only you can hear. “Treasury, huh?”

You smile. “Of course you’d be curious about that.”

“Think you could get us to his mansion?” She dares you, eyes aglow at the promise of a good heist.

“I know I can.” You pause walking to check your reflection on an ornate, sun-shaped mirror. After fixing your hair, you grin at your friends. “I’m irresistible, after all.”

Maybe if you weren’t busy buttering up your host, you would have noticed that Zoro wasn’t eating properly. Normally, you would force him to eat. You would pile food on his plate, telling that joke about fake noodles being impasta that always cracks you up.

Zoro frowns at the meal in front of him. The fish seems to frown back. Sighing, he decides to just order another drink. But no matter what he consumes, a bitter taste always blooms in his mouth afterwards.

The glass in his hand almost cracks when he hears your voice sucking up to Helios again. “So, you own this place? Do you live around here?”

Helios leans far too close towards you, but you grin and bear it. “Would you like a private tour, my gem?”

You place a hand on his arm, he may read it as affection, but you hold him so he keeps that distance. “That sounds wonderful.”

Zoro huffs under his breath. He needs another drink.

Thankfully, Helios serves good booze at his manor. Zoro almost didn’t want to drink any of it, but he needs alcohol in his system if he has to watch you flirt with this idiot so Nami can rob him blind. Whatever she steals better be worth all this, or else he might punch something. Or someone. Preferably Helios.

You share a look with Nami and give her an imperceptible nod. With that signal, she passes by and pretends to lose her footing. Wine seeps into your clothes, staining the fabric and sticking it to your skin. Did she really have to pick red wine? You liked this shirt.

“Oh, my dear!” Helios gasps. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll have my servants draw you a bath and bring you fresh clothes.”

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” Nami loops her arm through yours. “Let me help you with that.”

And so, with another fake smile sent Helios’ way, you rush with Nami to find the treasury.

“Be quick.” Nami says once you enter the luxurious bathroom prepared for you.

As tempting as the bubble bath is, you only take a few wet towels to tidy up. You step into the curtained area, about to strip when Nami holds out a hand to stop you.

“Wait.” She says, her tone serious. A teddy bear holding a rose is propped up on a shelf behind you. Tapping its eyes, Nami scowls before throwing the bear into the trash bin.

“A camera?” She nods. “Seriously? What a creep.”

You and Nami inspect the room. It’s not clear if there are other hidden cameras, but she stands guard in front of the shower curtains just in case.

“Hey,” She starts. “Did you notice Zoro acting weird tonight?”

You frown as you change into the dress Helios prepared. “What do you mean?”

Nami hums in thought. “He’s just…” A dumbass, she wants to say, but doesn’t. “He seems extra grumpy.”

That causes you to laugh. “I guess I should prepare more jokes for him when we get back.”

She winces. “...I’m not that sure he likes those.”

“Hm… Maybe not, but,” You pause to think. He may not laugh loudly as Luffy does, but he never shot you down for being bubbly around him. “Zoro would have told me to shut up by now if he didn’t, right?”

“Huh.” Nami says. “You got a point.”

You push the curtains aside, grinning at her. “Come on, let’s break into that treasury.”

“Of course, my gem.”

“Oh my god, if that sticks I’m going to be so mad.”

The treasury was a vault full of everything from jewels to ornamental weapons. Nami playfully crowned you with a diamond tiara, and she put on dangling emerald earrings that looked stunning on her.

After filling your bags and pockets with the most you can carry, you and Nami head out to find the others. You run into Usopp on the way back to the lounge.

“I see you two cleaned up well.” He jokes. “Luffy and Sanji are in the kitchen. I was just on my way there.”

“Where’s Zoro?” You ask.

“With Helios. You know him, still drinking.”

“We should leave soon.” Nami insists. “We risk getting caught the longer we stay.”

“Right.” You hand Usopp your bag, his eyes widen comically when he feels how heavy it is. “I’ll just go say goodbye, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Before you even enter the lounge, however, you hear Zoro speak your name. Are they talking about you? You press your back against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.

You almost wish you didn’t.

“She tells the worst jokes and doesn’t know when to quit it. Thinks she’s hilarious but she’s really not.” Zoro speaks in that deep voice that would usually be comforting to you—but his words now pierce through you painfully.

“What exactly is your relationship with her?” Helios asks, and Zoro is silent. It feels like your heart crumbles for every second he doesn’t answer.

You’re friends! You’ve been dreaming of more but, you’ve always been friends.

…Aren’t you? Doesn’t he think so?

“I don’t know.” Your heart fully shatters. What does he mean he doesn’t know? “She just sticks to me a lot. It can get annoying.”

“Well. That’s unfortunate, but it’s nothing to sob over.” Helios kisses his teeth. “I don’t care about her attitude. All that doesn’t matter as long as she has that pretty face.”

You wait for Zoro to say something. Anything. You want him to cut Helios where he stands.

But he doesn’t. The silence drags on. The air feels like it’s pushing you down, crushing your lungs. You have to get out of here.

You burst into the kitchen, trying your best not to cry. Nami immediately rushes to you, holding your shoulders to steady you. “What happened?”

Letting out a shuddered breath, you whisper, “You were right.” It’s impossible to think straight right now. “I want to leave.”

You look to Luffy, still shaken up. Your captain’s expression is serious as he nods. “Go ahead, we’ll get Zoro and catch up.” Not needing to be told twice, you head out the door.

Before she follows you, Nami hisses at Sanji, “Talk some sense into that dumbass, won’t you?”

The entire walk back to the Going Merry is silent. You’re grateful Nami doesn’t immediately press you for what happened, but you know that you should answer her questions. You finally get the words out in the safety of her cabin.

You sit cross-legged on the bed, and everything comes pouring out. “He called me annoying.”

“Zoro?” She asked, offering you a box of tissues.

“Yeah.” You sniff, taking the box.

“I’m sorry. That was fucked up of him to say.”

Unsure how to properly comfort you, Nami gets up and retrieves extra pillows from a storage compartment.

“Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” Nami asks, offering you a smile. It pulls a smile out of you too, the first one you mustered since Zoro crushed your spirit.

“I’d like that.”

Zoro is confused to find that you and Nami had left before them. Luffy gave Helios some lame excuse that you weren’t feeling well, but Zoro knew better. If you were really sick, the whole crew would be panicking and rushing to get to you.

He stares at Sanji and Usopp, trying to piece together what really happened. They both turn away from him, refusing to say anything.

In the next second, a maid rushes out, panting and screaming, “Mr. Helios! The treasury has been robbed!”

Fine. Answers can come later. For now, they need to run.

Once they’re back on the ship, Sanji follows Zoro into his cabin. He stares at the chef blankly, “Get out.”

“Did you do something?” Sanji leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Get out.” Zoro repeats, about to push him out of the room when Sanji speaks your name.

“She was upset. Asked to leave as soon as possible.” Sanji’s gaze is almost menacing, and his frown deepens when Zoro’s face falls. So, that’s what happened. You had heard him.

“Fuck.” Zoro groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Everyone noticed you getting bitchy over Helios.” Sanji notes “Did you confront him or something?”

Scoffing, Zoro sits on his hammock, the fabric dips under his weight. “It was something, all right.”

Wanting Zoro to explain himself unpromptedly, Sanji just watches him and lets the silence hang in the air. After a solid, suffocating minute, the swordsman caves.

“I called her annoying.” Zoro breathes out deeply. “I said her jokes aren’t funny and that she sticks to me a lot.”

“Man, that’s screwed up.” Sanji gapes. “I thought you cared about her?”

“Of course I do, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Zoro defends. “Luffy’s the only one who laughs at her jokes, and she’s always by my side.”

Sighing, Zoro continues, “...but I never minded any of it. I learned to care for those parts of her a long time ago. I was only trying to get that shithead off her back.”

“You’re an idiot.” Sanji concludes. “You have the emotional depth of a sink, sometimes.”

Zoro, surprisingly, doesn’t insult the chef back. He stares at the wall, slouched and looking the most empty Sanji’s ever seen him.

“What should I do?” He asks. “How should I make it up to her?”

Sanji’s eyes light up, he beams and claps his hands together in excitement. Even if Zoro hasn’t heard it yet, he already dreads the chef’s suggestion.

“I have an idea.”

When you woke up the next morning, you had every intention of avoiding Zoro like the plague. It was still really difficult to look at him, the hurt you felt still stings your heart.

But unfortunately for you, he had other plans.

You’re gazing out into the sea on the forecastle deck when you hear a familiar set of heavy footsteps. You sigh. “I don’t want to talk, Zoro.”

“I’m not here to talk.” You turn to him questioningly, but you really shouldn’t give him the time of day. Wasn’t he the one who complained about you clinging to him?

You don’t say anything. Only glaring at him and hoping he sees how disappointed you feel. Zoro stands here, appearing strangely vulnerable. If you weren’t so hurt, you would have hugged him by now.

But you are. So he has to wallow in the awkwardness of the consequences of his words. He—wait. What’s that on his face?

“I…” Is he… blushing? “I’m sorry I wasn’t around in the past.”

You make a face and blink at him. What is he up to?

“...Can I be part of your future?”

That knocks the wind right out of you, your jaw practically falls to the floor. Did Roronoa Zoro just use a pickup line? On you? You can’t help but glance at your surroundings to check if the sky is still blue.

No—hold on. He can’t win you over just like that. He needs to explain why he said what he did.

“You said my jokes are the worst.” You grumble.

“They are.” Zoro looks straight into your eyes as he speaks. “But you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

“You said I always stick to your side.”

He doesn’t miss a beat and answers earnestly, “You do. And I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”

“…You said you didn’t know what our relationship is.”

That causes Zoro to pause, searching your eyes as if he’ll find the answer in them. “…I don’t.”

Oh, this impossible sword-brain of a man. Your lips quiver, and you realize you can’t fight back your smile anymore. “I love you, Zoro.”

His expression shifts from anxiousness to shock, relief, and a bit of something else...

“I love you, too.” Ah, of course. Love, that too.

Slowly, tentatively, he raises his arms, inviting you to an embrace. He’s adorable, looking a teensy bit nervous that you wouldn’t want to hold him. Giggling, you rush to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he envelops your shoulders.

“I bet Sanji taught you to apologize with that line.” You murmur into his chest. “If you tell me another one…” Zoro cringes, his frame tensing.

“...I’ll give you a kiss.” His expression lifts, seriously considering it.

After a minute, Zoro clears his throat. You almost squeal in excitement.

“Roses are red, violets are blue…” A classic. This is going to be good.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward, I just want to have dinner with you.” You gasp, squeezing him tighter.

“Yes! That was perfect.” Laughing, you reach up and hold his face to keep your promise.

You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone for you. He probably would, if you’re being honest.

“You’re perfect.” He breathes, mouth against yours and then he’s kissing you again.

Hiding behind a pile of crates, the rest of the crew whoop and cheer. (Silently.)

“That was such a good line!” Luffy whispers.

“I still think he should have used the ‘I don’t speak angel’ one.” Usopp whispers back.

“What are you talking about?!” Sanji angrily, quietly mutters. “That was perfect because he apologized and delivered the line.”

“Shut it, you guys. I was right, he didn’t last a day with her mad at him.” Nami holds out her palm. “Pay up.” The others groan, handing her some berry. All’s well that ends well.

taglist: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @msmisasoup @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @appalost @hi3431 @akakaze @lownna

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steddiewithachance · 4 months

Text

I'm Here on Business

Wayne is a regular at the bookstore Steve works at and badgers Steve into going on a blind date with his kid.

For @extocancer Happy New Years!!! I hope you enjoy your presents ◡̈

***

It's a quiet night in the little bookstore on the corner of Brinks and Williams. Steve is sitting behind the check-out counter flicking the leaf of a potted pothos placed next to the register. Soft music plays from the radio behind him.

Steve likes taking the evening shifts at the shop just to see the place warmly lit up by all of the eclectic and ornate lamps that Amber, the owner, has collected. The store doesn't give him migraines from obnoxious fluorescent light, which has been an issue at previous jobs.

Ever since Robin moved out of their apartment for Grad school, it's been upsetting to be at home alone at night. Without her company, the couch feels longer. And without her unhinged apartment decor, the walls feel taller and colder. Consequently, Steve has taken on more work hours instead of being home.

Plus, he has kind of fallen in love with reading. It came as a shock to him that he could enjoy it as much as he does. It started when his all-female team of coworkers began ranting to each other about these romance novels they were all into. He felt a little left out and decided to give one of them a try. It turns out that reading was actually a really great coping mechanism for dealing with his temporary loss of Robin.

The nicest, and most surprising thing to come out of this job though, is probably Wayne. A one-time customer turned regular, turned tentative friend for Steve. He's got a caring, parental energy that Steve's own parents never had.

The guy looks like he'd have a gruff or standoffish personality. His face naturally rests in a frown and he's got receding grey hair. He wears a flannel every day without fail; he's got a million different colors of them and Steve has even made a game of predicting which one he'll be wearing when he comes in.

"Did ya guess right today, boy?" Wayne will ask.

"No," Steve often admits glumly. "The universe told me you'd be wearing your green and blue one."

So anyway, Wayne comes around a lot to make small talk. He often mentions how he misses his son, Eddie. He's so stiff with personal information about his kid, but one time he let it slip that Eddie was on tour with his band. Steve had a field day afterward colluding with Google to find out exactly who Wayne's son was.

Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of rock group Corroded Coffin.

Steve hadn't heard of ‘em but they certainly have a following. He listened to some of their stuff, to give himself some context for the next time Wayne brought up Eddie's music. It was nice enough, the guy has a good voice.

Steve's been waiting for Wayne to come in tonight. He's later than usual and it would be ridiculous for Steve to worry about a man who probably just thinks of Steve as that one kid who works at the bookstore. He may not come in at all tonight, and that would be fine too. Steve's still holding out on him pulling up in his... yellow flannel.

Steve's about to cave and start the next book in the current series he's reading when the door jingles. Wayne pushes inside in his mother fucking yellow flannel.

"Yellow Flannel!" Steve exclaims. Wayne chuckles and drops a book on the counter followed by a receipt.

"You got me right today?" Wayne asks fondly.

"Yup. It's been a while. I was aching for a win." Steve starts returning Wayne's book for him without giving him slack this time. Wayne treats the store like a library and Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it's not allowed.

"Was this book any good?" Steve throws Wayne's receipt back at him and starts moving around the counter to put it back on the shelf for some other historical fiction lover to purchase.

"It was just alright." Wayne follows behind him languidly, eyeing the rows of colorful book spines for something that catches his eye. "But actually I'm here on business tonight."

Steve leans on the shelf and waits impatiently for Wayne to tell him what sort of business he's on.

"I think you ought to go on a date with Eddie. I think you two'd compliment each other."

Well, that's... not what Steve was expecting to hear.

"That's business to you? You came here to set me up on a blind date with your famous kid? I think he's gonna be a tad underwhelmed by a bookstore employee, Wayne." Steve's not gonna lie, he's a little intrigued by the prospect of dating a musician. He read a romance novel about one, not that long ago. Concerts, greenroom intimacy, targeted lyrics: Steve could be into it, in theory.

And ultimately, Steve did see photos of Eddie on Google and he's attractive. He looks good holding a guitar.

"He's gonna be home for a while so I figured now's a good time. Just go on one date. He's a big softie, you'll like him." Wayne pulls a book off the shelf and squints to try and read the title. He holds it further from his eyes before giving up and pushing it back into its slot.

"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will you still come around?" Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Wayne stopped showing up, but it would probably hurt a little. It might fan the flame of his fear of abandonment.

"Of course, unless you break his heart. I know where you work, young man." Wayne pats his shoulder good-naturedly.

"Okay old man, you need my number to hand off?"

***

A day later, when Steve feels his phone buzz against his thigh, his instincts already know who it is. His heart gives that anticipatory squeeze he often gets before a first date with someone he finds attractive.

The text reads:

Hi Steve, this is eddie. Wayne swears we're soulmates. Wanna get dinner on friday?

It's a funny text to receive out of nowhere. Steve doubts Wayne actually used that word, but he imagines that Eddie is probably getting more of an earful than Steve got about this whole blind date. He also wonders what kind of person calls their dad by their first name.

Hi Eddie. I'd love to get dinner on Fri and discuss our soulmate status. I'm pretty sure he expects us to be married by the end of the night. Should I bring my tux? Also do you have a time and place in mind?

The master of puppets (Wayne) suggested we go to Maggiano's, are you okay with Italian? 8 maybe??? Tux optional but I think I will not be wearing one.

Haha. That sounds good Eddie, it's nice to hear from you. I'll see you soon.

***

Steve has to ask Amber to change his shift for Friday to work in the morning instead of the evening.

"Steve has somewhere other than work to be on a Friday night? Unheard of!" She slaps her palms down on the book display she was laying out.

"I know. I'm surprised too." Steve fiddles with his lanyard and gives her a 'please say yes' smile. She sighs.

"Yeah, I'll cover you. You can take my morning slot."

"Thank you! I owe you, boss."

***

When Friday arrives, Steve has the nervous jitters. It's been about a year since his last date, it didn't go very well. He's flattered that Wayne thinks highly enough of him to set him up with his kid.

Steve picks up a few small gifts for Eddie on his way home from work. He always brings his first dates a little something. He likes to see the way their faces light up. He thinks maybe he should get Eddie something music-related. So he walks into a little music store he's never been in and asks for small gift ideas for guitarists. He walks out wearing a smile, and hoping Eddie digs what he bought him.

And he's all smiles and confidence until he pulls up to the restaurant at eight and realizes he didn't send a confirmation text this morning. That's like, a rule, right? What if Eddie doesn't show up?

Steve steps out of the car and is equally anxious and relieved to find him leaning artfully against the restaurant near the front door with his hands in his pockets.

His curls are haloed by the warm light spilling out of the restaurant window. He's wearing a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. And yeah, okay, he's hot.

The fact that Steve's going on a date with someone sort of famous hasn't fully sunk in. He's not sure he needs the added nerves though. He approaches as casually as possible and smiles when Eddie looks over.

The man does a double-take when he sees Steve. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes off against the wall to stand straighter.

"Hi, Eddie?" Steve steps up onto the curb with a little wave. Eddie gives him a thorough once over.

"Oh, damn. Hi." He pulls a hand out of his pocket to shake Steve's.

Eddie is pretty up close. He's got long eyelashes and a bridge of little freckles across his nose. Steve notices all the little details that the on-stage photos didn't capture. He wonders if Wayne described what he looked like to Eddie who was at an informational disadvantage.

"I don't know what I was expecting you to look like, but my uncle didn't mention you were model pretty." Eddie tucks one of his big curls behind his ear and then steps forward to open the door. Steve's face gets warm at being called "model pretty", but he's terrible at taking compliments. He tries to redirect the conversation.

"Your uncle?" Steve asks.

"Wayne? My uncle?" Eddie motions towards the open door and follows after Steve once he's inside.

"Oh. You know he tells people that you're his son?"

Eddie's face softens and he scratches at his cheek. "Oh. Yeah well, I basically am. Maybe I should start calling him dad, I don't know."

"We don't take walk-ins." The hostess of the restaurant announces, breaking up their small talk. Steve looks over to see a tall woman with a slicked-back ponytail mad-dogging them. She has a cold demeanor, she kills the mood with one look between them. Steve knows the look, he's sure Eddie does too.

"Good to know! I have a reservation, though." Eddie responds.

"What's the name?" The woman pulls her iPad closer to herself like a shield.

"Munson." Eddie glances at Steve nervously.

"Hm. I don't see it." She pretends, tapping around meaninglessly. Eddie is getting agitated and maybe embarrassed too. He's scratching at his arm, unsure of how to proceed. First dates are already so awkward, especially blind ones. And if there's one thing about Steve, it's that he's gonna try to lighten the mood.

"Don't you know who he is?" Steve asks offendedly. Eddie whips around to look at Steve with wide, panic-filled eyes. The hostess raises an eyebrow and looks more closely at Eddie. It makes Steve chuckle. "I'm just kidding, let's go get burgers or something." He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him back out the door.

"Holy shit, you scared me. I didn't know you knew who I was." Eddie has a hand on his chest and a wild grin. "She definitely didn't."

"I was just messing around. She did not want to seat our gay date." Steve sticks his hands in his pockets and then remembers Eddie's gift. "Oh but hey! I got you something."

Steve pulls out a nice bar of chocolate and a little tin of black pearly guitar picks. He offers them to Eddie with an open palm.

"Oh, what? You didn't have to do that." Eddie grabs them eagerly and slides open the tin. "This is so nice! How'd you know I've been needing picks? Now I feel doubly bad about dinner falling through."

"Hey, if I'm honest, sit-down dinner dates kind of give me anxiety. Too much pressure to keep the conversation going." Steve pulls out his keys, "You like burgers?"

Eddie huffs dramatically. "My palette is far too sophisticated for greasy burgers, Steve. I'm a chicken nugget man, obviously."

"That makes sense. You look like one." Steve teases. Eddie pouts.

"I'm taking that as a compliment."

"If you want nuggets we can just walk down the street. Unless you want me to drive?" Steve points in the direction of the row of fast-food restaurants.

"Yeah, let's walk."

Steve slowly turns and starts walking, glancing invitingly over his shoulder.

"So you know me." Eddie rattles the tin of guitar picks and looks a little worried by the prospect that Steve is some sort of fan.

"Only through your uncle, really. And maybe a short Google search. Sue me." Steve holds up his hands guiltily.

"Oh yeah, Wayne's my marketing manager. I send him out to spread the good word."

"Well I don't know who you've been instructing him to market to, but he's spending all his time in my store making me read book summaries to him because he conveniently forgets his glasses every time he comes in." Steve deadpans. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head knowingly.

"Yeah, It's this new long-con form of marketing. We decided to go all in for just one new fan." Eddie's got these sweet little dimples on either cheek when he smiles.

"Kinda worked, I dunno. I'm charmed by the Munsons." Steve and Eddie are veering towards each other as they walk. They're set to collide like two little asteroids. When they do end up bumping shoulders, it's soft. They stay close after that.

Steve hears a truly horrible sound coming from a bar a few meters ahead of them.

"Oh shit! Karaoke bar!" Eddie exclaims and speeds over. Eddie stands in front of the fenced-off patio and looks in while someone butchers Guns N' Roses. He looks absolutely delighted.

"What, you want to go show off in front of these poor, tone-deaf drunkards?" Steve rests his arms on the little fence and leans forward. Eddie vehemently disagrees.

"God no, I just like hearing all the very talented Midwestern voices." Eddie wiggles his eyebrows to express his sarcasm. "In other words, I enjoy making fun of bad music. I'm only human."

They sit there and give each other pained looks at the bad voices for a few minutes until someone starts trying to drunkenly stumble over the verse to a Nicki Minaj song and then Eddie drags Steve away in anguish.

"Can't take it anymore, Steve. Spare me."

***

The two of them have a good rapport, Steve thinks as they sit on a curb and share a big box of chicken nuggets. Maybe Wayne was right. It's playful. He can see how Eddie and Wayne share a handful of mannerisms and a sense of humor.

"Let's intertwine our arms like newlyweds do when they drink champagne," Steve says with a ketchup-covered chicken nugget in his hand. He wraps an arm around Eddie's and then takes a bite. Eddie follows his lead and giggles.

"I didn't know they did that. I've never been to a wedding." Eddie swallows and reaches for his soda.

"What? Never?"

Eddie shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. It's too cloudy to see any stars, unfortunately.

"My tux is in the car, by the way, should things pan out tonight." Steve jokes.

"I think they're panning." Eddie winks and leans in slightly.

"Oh yeah? Have I lived up to Wayne's description of me?" Steve bats his eyelashes and gives Eddie a sweet little smile.

"You've exceeded it, sweetheart." Eddie picks up Steve's hand and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist. Steve's heart jumps. When Eddie pulls back, he doesn't pull back far.

"Do you ever kiss on a first date?" Eddie whispers and squeezes Steve's hand. He glances at Steve's lips.

"Mmm, I could be persuaded." Steve feels a heady rush at the fact that he has somehow won the interest of a successful musician who probably meets loads of people every day. Steve reaches forward and tugs at one of Eddie's loose curls. He twists it around his finger and looks up with big doe eyes.

The tension is cut from Eddie's body when Steve looks at him like that. The move has a pretty good success rate at this point. And it doesn't fail him tonight. Eddie rests a hand on the base of Steve's neck. He strokes his thumb back and forth against the hollow of Steve's collarbone and leans in slowly.

Eddie's warm lips press against his own gently, experimentally. Their lips make a sweet sound when the suction is broken and Eddie's immediately reseal against Steve like he's irresistible. It's been forever since Steve kissed anyone, especially anyone worth kissing. He forgot how sweet and floaty it feels.

The hand on Steve's collar slides up so it's lightly holding his neck, it feels quietly possessive. It makes Steve's face heat up. Eddie's free arm wraps around Steve's waist pulling him closer. He lets himself be pulled.

Eddie starts getting more confident and hums softly when Steve weaves a hand into his long hair.

Steve could keep this up for hours, he wants to. But as dark as it is, he doesn't love the idea of continuing this so out in the open. He pulls back with regret.

"Damn, how are you not already taken?" Eddie wipes at Steve's shiny lips with his thumb.

"How are you not already taken? You're the accomplished one." Steve counters, squeezing one of Eddie's knees.

Eddie gathers their trash around them and stuffs it into the paper bag. "Well, I'll be home for a while if you'd want to do this again sometime. I can take you to a nice restaurant next time, I promise." He stands to throw away the trash. "Damn, I don't want the night to be over..."

"It doesn't have to be, you're welcome at mine." Steve leans back on one of his hands and bats his eyelashes up at Eddie.

"My New Year's resolution was to not do first date hookups, though."

"We don't have to, just come hang out." Steve holds an arm out to be pulled up to his feet from where he’s still sitting on the curb.

"Oh, yeah okay. You want me to?" Eddie pulls him to his feet with more force than necessary. It sends them both stumbling and giggling.

"Obviously I want you to."

***

The walk back to the restaurant is much faster than it was at the start of the night. They regretfully have to split at the parking lot, each having their own ride.

"Wait, call me so we can still talk on the way there." Eddie requests before jogging off to Wayne's truck. There really isn't much need to talk on the phone since Steve lives so close, but it's kind of cute that he wants to. Steve hits the call button on Eddie's contact.

"Hello, to whom am I speaking?" Eddie asks in a formal, over-the-top voice.

"This is Steve Harrington. I'm contacting you regarding your car's extended warranty." Steve backs out of his spot and waits for Eddie to do the same before driving out of the parking lot.

"Oh wow, what a coincidence. I was just wondering if my car had an extended warranty." Eddie always plays along, he digs into all of Steve's jokes and finds his own spot to grow there.

Steve drives slower than he normally would so that he doesn't get separated from his date. Eddie doesn't appreciate the sentiment.

"You drive like a grandpa. Has anyone ever told you that?" Eddie laughs and honks his horn. Steve hears it both over the phone and from his window.

"I'm only driving slow so we don't get separated, asshole."

"There's barely anyone on the road tonight to separate us, but it's fine, Steve. I value your safety. Drive at your comfortable geriatric pace."

When they pull up to a red light, Eddie instructs Steve to roll down his window so they can stick their hands out and play Rock Paper Scissors. Steve is so distracted watching Eddie's hand through his side mirror that he misses when the light turns.

"It's green, honey," Eddie alerts him softly through the phone, and Steve apologizes.

He's smiling real big the whole way there and when Steve eventually gets out of the car, Eddie comes up and grabs him from behind.

Eddie plants a few eager kisses on the side of Steve's neck. "You're fun, Steve."

"I'll show you real fun some other time." He jokes and pulls Eddie towards his place.

As soon as Steve opens the door to his apartment, he feels self-conscious about how dull it looks inside. Eddie looks around quietly. His eye catches on a picture of Steve and Robin.

"That's my best friend, Robin." Steve clarifies, just in case Eddie reads it wrong like dates have in the past.

Eddie smiles and pulls Steve back against his chest. "She looks nice."

"Looks can be deceiving." Steve laments which has Eddie chuckling into his shoulder. Eddie rubs at Steve's tummy.

What Steve really wants, what he's been desperate for, for months and months is human touch. He just wants to cuddle so badly. And Eddie doesn't seem the type to cuddle, but looks can be deceiving, so Steve's gonna ask anyway.

"Wanna cuddle and watch trash reality TV?" Steve's shoulders rise to his ears, it's a defensive gesture and he's expecting to be rejected. Eddie looks slightly amused by his offer, but he nods.

***

"So you liked him alright?" Wayne asks smugly patting the counter. Steve nervously watches the back of the store where Amber is reorganizing. Steve shouldn't be having a conversation like this at work while she's around.

"Yes, Wayne." Steve rolls his eyes. "Your nephew is lovely."

"I told him he should come here with me next time. Maybe we'll both visit ya." Wayne looks happy. The corners of his default frown have been pulled upwards by the return of his nephew. He's a good man. Steve thinks if his kid was only home a few weeks he'd want to hoard all of his attention, surely not set him up on dates.

And that's the thing about Wayne, it seems like he puts the people he cares about first. Steve wonders if Wayne is all that lonely when Eddie's gone, or if he just comes into the store so often because he knows Steve is.

"I'd love that." Steve hopes things work out with the Munsons.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie fluff

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les4elliewilliams · 23 days

Text

Unwanted attraction // e.w

coworker!ellie ✗ fem reader

cw/wc: 11k ; tried to proofread it but im blind asf and i need glasses so!! smut, swearing, strap on sex r!receiving, oral r!receiving, also mention of ellie receiving it but i was too lazy to write that part (possibly gonna make a few drabbles about it in the future, who knows) fingering r!receiving, angst. enemies to lovers trope :')

a/n: i'm well aware my silly goofy goose is the sweetest baby ever but imagine if she hated you, what would it be like? (besides trying to kill you and hunting you down ofc, let's remember this is AU) idk been daydreaming about it.

highly inspired by a bot on Chai ( *︾▽︾)

¡! daily click・palestine masterpost・do not buy any game from naughty dog, neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks. ¡!

☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆

Rough sex on the bedroom floor

Hop in the shower, she begging for more

Do not disturb on the hotel door

✩ coworker!ellie made sure to make your life a living hell at work, whether it came to messing up with the neatly organized files on your computer or desk, complaining about everything you did, talking shit behind your back, stealing your coffee (and she didn't even like coffee, but she'd do anything to piss you off), calling you names, make fun of your clothes but at the same time checking you out whenever you bent over your desk or to pick up something from the musty floor. Such a delight she was.

✩ coworker!ellie absolutely hated how everyone seemed to love you, except her, of course. She despised how you always wore a stupid smile on your face as if nothing could ever bring you down, not even her. Your mere presence was enough to light up the whole room. She couldn't figure out what about you instantly attracted people.

✩ coworker!ellie hated how you always organized everything by color, name, and date like a freaking maniac, and obviously, she couldn't help but tease you about it.

"OCD much, baby?" "You should get this obsession of yours checked. it's not normal."

✩ coworker!ellie works as a photographer while you are a writer. Your job is to write anything that your boss asks you to write. However, Ellie often sends you the pictures you need for your works in the middle of the night or past the deadline, making sure you work overtime to finish your project. This often results in you getting yelled at by your boss the next day (which was exactly what she wanted)

✩ coworker!ellie always found something to complain about when it came to you. She disdained you and didn't even try to hide it. She would criticize everything about you, from your clothing choices to your makeup and hair. It was as if she were looking for flaws to point out and would not rest until she found something to complain about. She never seemed to give you a break, and you always felt like you were walking on eggshells around her. Despite your efforts to be friendly towards her, Ellie never reciprocated. But what she hated the most was how she couldn't actually bring herself to hate you; she hated how her body reacted whenever she let her eyes linger on your ass and tits for too long. She absolutely hated the skirts you wore almost every fucking day; it was a curse cause she couldn't despise your body.

✩ coworker!ellie hated how you talked, the sound of your voice, and how obnoxious it sounded when you spoke or giggled but secretly wondered how you'd sound beneath her, whimpering and moaning her name.

✩ coworker!ellie deeply dislikes when you gesticulate while talking and how your dimples show when you laugh at someone else's jokes in the office, especially when it's one of those stupid man. Because how stupid could you be? It was obvious that he was flirting with you with the only intent of getting into your panties.

✩ coworker!ellie gags around you whenever you walk by, and she makes sure you know how fucking disgusting you smell. How your flowery scent disgusts her; she's so pathetically disgusted by it that all she wants to do is bury her nose into the crook of your neck.

"Who the fuck is wearing this perfume? smells fucking disgusting" "Smells like shit in here"

✩ coworker!ellie always finds a way to put the blame on you when she screws up, especially when her boss is pretty pissed at her and is complaining about how she's not responsible enough and doesn't pay attention to detail.

✩ coworker!ellie will talk over you during meetings, even when she had been quiet the whole time. The moment she decides to speak up is when you take the initiative to do so. What a coincidence.

✩ coworker!ellie would often mock and make fun of you whenever you mispronounced something.

"You hear yourself? Like, ever?" "Princess' forgetting grammar today, isn't she?"

✩ coworker!ellie constantly makes rude and disrespectful comments about your ideas and contributions saying shit like

"That sounds like a stupid idea. But what were we expecting from you?" "Do you ever make yourself useful?" Your boss and everyone else in the room had enough of the ongoing rivalry between you two and they would always tell her to suck it up and take it outside. That's how things usually went: she'd say something mean, and you couldn't let her have the last word. You were always nice to everyone but you eventually grew tired of her ugly attitude and how unmotivated it was. Cause why the fuck was she so snappy about everything? What have you ever done to her? Easy. Absolutely nothing.

✩ coworker!ellie has never invited you to any of their coworkers' hangouts. She always came up with excuses to avoid inviting you, and the best part was that you knew nothing about it; she'd make excuses like

"She told me her grandma is sick" "I dunno, she said she already had plans" "She's dogsitting this weekend" Imagine how worried your coworker Dina was about your grandma. The poor girl was so concerned that she had to reach out to you and ask about it. What if you needed a friend to talk to? You knew she would always be there for you no matter what, but that's beside the point. Ellie most likely didn't consider Dina walking up to you to ask about your grandma, or maybe she did; it's not like she cared. Her sole purpose appeared to be provoking you anyway. "yn, how's your grandma doin'?" she had this soft, worried tone going on "My…grandma?" you looked puzzled and tilted your head slightly, trying to make sense of what was going on cause what the fuck was she talking about? Your grandparents weren't even around anymore. "Oh, but last Friday Ellie said…" she trailed off, finally connecting the dots. "Y'know what? I think I misunderstood." she quickly brushed off the awkward situation with a chuckle, realizing that adding more fuel to the rivalry you two had going on was pointless. she decided that from now on, she would be the one to invite you to their girl nights out. Imagine Ellie's surprise when she saw you enter the restaurant Dina had chosen, the brunette giving Ellie a mischievous smile from across the table.

✩ coworker!ellie can't help but look at your ass whenever she'd get the chance, the way you walked, the sway of your hips. She had always wondered what kind of underwear you wore and of what color. As much as she despised you, she wanted to know everything about you. What made you icky, what didn't. What was your type, what made you horny and desperate. Those kinds of things, ordinary things, basically. And she really couldn't stop fantasizing about you, imagining herself fucking you from behind, smacking your ass hard enough to leave marks on it, all five fingers.

✩ coworker!ellie couldn't quite figure out your sexuality. You were so friendly to everyone and she couldn't count on her gay-radar at all. She claimed that thing was pure bullshit cause she always ended up pursuing straight women. (such a loser)

✩ coworker!ellie felt like she had won the lottery the moment she caught you checking out your new coworker, who happened to be a girl. She couldn't pinpoint why she felt that way, she hated you after all, right?

✩ coworker!ellie spilled your pumpkin spice latte all over the scattered papers on your desk the same day out of…jealousy?

"Why the fuck would you do that?!" you raised your voice at her and promptly grabbed some paper tissues to fix the damage she had done. "Do what, princess? it was a mistake, chill out." she flatly said, veiny hands stuffed into her pockets, doing absolutely nothing to help you. She just stared at you with a cocky grin on her face, feeling proud of herself "It tastes like burnt shit anyways, dunno why you drink it." her nonchalance was making you even more furious than you already were

✩ coworker!ellie unconsciously licks her lips when you cross your legs and your skirt moves up just a bit enough for her perverted mind to think of all the filthy things she'd do to you if she didn't hate you so much.

✩ coworker!ellie who whistled whenever you bent over. And as soon as you straightened up, ready to go off on her, you noticed that she had this poised and confident look on her face. It was evident that she had anticipated your reaction and had an answer prepared for whatever you had to say to her, and to be quite honest, she mostly did it to get on your nerves.

"What do you expect me to do? You clearly bend over like that for me to notice." "Think I don't know you doin' this just to put on a show f'me?" "You bend over like a slut every single time I walk by. Thought I wouldn't notice?" and she wasn't even wrong. Despite claiming not to like you, you noticed the way she looked at you and you liked it, loved it even. It was quite entertaining how she tried so hard to convince herself that she did not like you one bit. Pathetic.

✩ coworker!ellie completely forgot you were on a business trip the moment she realized you had to share the same bed.

You were both sent on a 'business trip' by your boss and were assigned a hotel room to share for the duration of the trip. The hotel your boss sent you to was not of the best quality, to say the least, and to make matters worse, you realized that you had to share the same bed with Ellie. The situation caught you off guard, and you could sense the awkwardness in the air. You knew that sharing a room was part of the trip, but neither of you expected to have to share the same bed.

He must be out of his mind, was the first thing that crossed your mind.

When you called him to complain about his terrible choice, his dismissive comment made you even more furious "You're both women, I don't see why this is an issue."

Don't see why this is an issue my ass. Working with Ellie was already the worst thing ever, but sleeping with her? the universe or whoever must be playing a cruel joke on you because what were the chances? Plus, Ellie was being her usual self with that attitude, which obviously wasn't helping at all; you weren't gonna have any of it. "Just fucking great, I gotta share the bed with you" emphasizing the 'you' just to make you feel like a disgusting piece of trash that she absolutely despised. you couldn't care less; her petty comments didn't amuse you anymore. In all honesty, you were used to her ugly attitude. When you first started working with her, her hateful comments really got to you. You would break down as soon as you returned to your cozy apartment, making you feel like something was wrong with you. However, your other coworkers reassured you that she was like that with everybody, so you learned to accept it. Kind of. She still made your life miserable whenever she could, but you honestly loved this job. You had worked hard to get where you were, and you didn't see a point in giving up just because little miss hated you a bit too much. She dropped her suitcase by the door and slammed the door shut "You can always crash on the floor," you said back, mimicking her annoyed tone.

As you stood there, she turned to face you, and you could see the anger in her eyes. She shot you a death glare, and her lips were pressed tightly together. "I'm not a fucking doormat" she snapped, her voice laced with frustration and anger, like always.

You couldn't help but huff and roll your eyes at her behavior "Then shut your fucking mouth and stop throwing a tantrum like a little kid" Despite her scarred brows furrowing in anger, you couldn't resist the urge to call her out on her tantrum. Just as she was about to snap back at you, you cut her off with a simple "I'm gonna shower." You walked over to the bed, unzipping the suitcase you had thrown on it earlier. Your fingers searched for your pink cherry-patterned pajamas, which you had smartly placed on top of all your daily clothes for easy access. It was just one of the many small things you calculated and organized in your daily life. And, of course, she despised this aspect of your personality too; she hated how organized you were, everything you did, every gesture, every word; it always was so calculated, while she was more spontaneous (another word for impulsive) and never cared enough about how unorganized she was. As you disappeared into the bathroom to shower, she couldn't resist the temptation to rummage through your suitcase, hoping to find something interesting. An amused smile appeared on her face when she found sexy black lingerie; it was just what she was expecting you to wear underneath those slutty skirts you wore almost every day at work. Being the sneaky little mf she was, she put everything back the way you left it so you wouldn't suspect a thing. "Borrowing" a pair of your panties, a souvenir.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, you noticed that she had already changed into her comfortable pajamas. She was wearing a pair of black boy shorts and a t-shirt from what seemed to be a band she loved. The shirt looked worn out, the colors faded, but you could still make out the logo of the band, it was a casual yet charming sight. Despite her best efforts to control herself, she found herself unable to resist the urge to stare at you intently, your soft curves, and how the cherry-patterned shorts hugged your ass as the top fell loose over your boobs. It didn't take her too long to notice that you weren't wearing a bra, nipples peeking through the thin fabric of your top, but she forced herself to look away.

"D'you ever take a shower?" you quipped as you strolled to the right side of the massive bed "I took a shower earlier today. Besides, I don't smell bad, so there's really no reason to," she walked to the other side of the bed while trying her best to avoid making eye contact with you. "You gotta shower before getting into bed, it's just gross not to," you scolded her in a mom-like tone, making her roll her eyes in response. "Don't boss me around. I don't need a shower. I smell just fine." she said. You were getting on her nerves again, and you could tell from her annoyed tone; she never liked feeling judged or being told what to do. So, you decided to drop it — too tired to start another argument. You let out a sigh and collapsed onto the soft mattress, feeling instant relief in your back. Your gaze was fixed on the ceiling, "Well, at least it's comfy," you muttered to yourself, as she climbed in next to you and grumbled, "I guess so" and turned away from you, yanking the covers over her head.

The room fell silent, both of you trying your best to ignore each other's presence. You shut your eyes, and so did she. Over 10 minutes passed, and you were still wide awake; why were you suddenly struggling to fall asleep? You were convinced that the little stinky beside you was sleeping, but she wasn't. The little cunt scooted closer to you, secretly enjoying the heat radiating off your body, making sure to keep her eyes shut in the process so you'd think she was sleeping.

She pressed her back against yours, and as much as it felt nice, you shifted uncomfortably and moved again. Your attempt to create distance between both of you turned out to be a complete failure; she kept scooting closer each time you moved away. "You're gonna make me fall out of bed, Ellie," you whined, shoving her away from you. Her eyes shut open, she muttered, "Oh, sorry," and tried to move away from you. But she found herself unable to do so for some reason. She longed for your touch and warmth, realizing that it was a pathetic situation to be in because she hated you; she couldn't feel this way towards you, so why was she? Instead of moving away, she inched closer to you, seeking comfort in your warm body against her cooler, freckled skin.

You huffed again in annoyance and turned onto your side to look at her, realizing how close you two were. "What" you asked flatly; she slowly rolled onto her other side to face you. She blinked slowly, her emerald green eyes taking in your features. You weren't so ugly after all, she thought to herself. She could feel your breath on her face. "Uh, nothin'." She didn't want to admit how comfortable she was with the closeness, feeling your soft skin against hers. "We are not gonna cuddle," you stated firmly. "No, of course not," she agreed quickly, not wanting to push things further either, deep down yearning for something more than just cuddles. She settled back into her spot, trying to ignore the slight disappointment that fluttered in her stomach "Stay on your side of the bed, s'not that hard." the tone of your voice was firm and slightly irritated, "Fine," the auburnette girl muttered under her breath, rolling onto her other side again. She shut her eyes, trying to ignore your presence as you both lay there in silence.

You faced away from her, your eyes shut, trying to focus on something other than the tension you felt in the pit of your stomach. You considered facing the pillow or lying on your side, but your legs felt restless. You wondered if there was a solution to ease your discomfort. The girl beside you groaned softly, annoyed with your constant shifting, her eyes fluttering open as you kept tossing and turning. You heard her sigh heavily, rolling over onto her back and facing the ceiling again "Look, I know you're not used to me or anything-" she started but you were quick to cut her words off "Yeah, I am not" you sighed frustrated and mimicked her position, your eyes glued on the ceiling that seemed to be the most interesting thing ever at that moment.

Ellie turned her head slightly to look at you, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well, I guess we could try something different then," she softly said, her voice conveying anything but innocence. A subtle hint of mischief seemed to accompany her words, indicating that she had something specific in mind. Your head turned as soon as she spoke, brows furrowing at her words, "What do you have in mind, Williams?"

"I could help you...relax," she replied confidently, a sly grin never leaving her face. She moved closer to you, her green eyes are fixed on yours. Her heart raced a little faster as she waited for an answer, your consent, anything. Was she fucking out of her mind? Was she suggesting what you thought she was?

You scoffed, "What the fuck, Ellie? 'm not gonna fuck you." you replied sharply, squinting your eyes at her; she groaned softly and hovered over your body, propping herself up on her elbows. "C'mon angel, scared you'll like it?" a cocky grin glued on her face as she spoke confidently almost as if she knew what she was doing. She chuckled softly when you didn't reply, leaning closer until your bodies were pressed against each other, her hand gently stroking your waist "Just let me try," she whispered. Her cold hand sent shivers down your spine when she slid it under your tank top, your warmth seeping into her skin, igniting a fire within her. She had always wanted to touch you like this, even if she hated your guts. She leaned in slowly, eyes locked on your moist, plump lips. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you would kiss the girl who pissed the shit out of you daily, let alone fuck her.

Your lips met hers, you felt a strange sensation in the pit of your stomach and chest, like a fluttering feeling. It was as if every fiber of your being was electrified with the touch, and soon, soft and slow kisses turned into a whole makeout session. Her tongue slid into your mouth, and you gladly let her explore every inch of it, her callous fingers gently exploring every inch of your skin and your fingers grasping her messy bun, you still fucking hated her. A series of conflicting thoughts ran through your mind, making it difficult for you to focus on anything. Part of you wanted to pull away, while the other part was eager to explore this, whatever it was. Your grip unconsciously tightened into her auburn locks, slightly pulling her hair. "You little bitch" she muttered under her breath when she pulled away from the kiss, your lips mere millimeters apart, only connected by a string of saliva, "You're a little bitch" you were panting slightly from the intense makeout session "You're fucking obnoxious" she replied without missing a beat. However, this time, no hint of annoyance laced in her voice; her voice was husky and sultry, and she looked at you with such a desire, one that you've noticed before, but she was acting on it this time. Her hand began to tug at your shorts, pulling the soft material down. "And you're not?" you scoffed, your eyebrows raised as you stared back into those green orbs of hers. "Keep talking like that angel, see what happens," she warned you with a sly grin. "Why, what are you gonna do?" you challenged, but she seemed to ignore your question, for now at least.

She didn't waste time, calloused fingers pressing against your clothed cunt as she discarded your favorite pajama shorts somewhere in the dimly lit room. A soft sound escaped your swollen lips, making her smirk in amusement. "I barely even touched you," she teased you, her fingers tracing your soaked and still clothed slit. Your pussy has never been wetter, and you hated how skilled she seemed to be with her hands, how wet you became as soon as she touched and kissed you; almost as if your body had been craving for her touch. "Shut the fuck up," you hissed, only causing her to press her digits on your throbbing clit; she observed you; it was like she was analyzing your every move and reaction. She watched you squirm beneath her. "Aww look at you, baby. Want more?" she purred, her mocking grin taunting you, making you pout and nod frantically. You needed more. Your cunt was starting to hurt and clench around absolutely nothing, you needed her fingers and you couldn't help but feel extremely embarrassed by it. You needed her fingers. The fingers of the girl you hated the most. fuck.

She let out a dry chuckle and slowly shook her head, a few loose auburn strands falling onto the sides of her face "That's not how it works, you can do better than that, I know it." she encouraged you. it was all she needed to hear, all her ears craved to hear, you begging for her, begging for her to destroy your pussy.

As stupid and absurd as it sounded, you were only hers in her mind. She had never laid a finger on you before, but you belonged to her. She wanted to be the only girl in your life, the one you relied on; the worst part was that she couldn't even explain why she felt that way towards you. Why you out of all people? she didn't have the answer to that. She loved getting reactions out of you, getting you all riled up and fuming red, that's what she knew. But tonight, she was lucky enough to explore a new side of you. She wanted to absolutely destroy you. She wasn't gonna be gentle; after all, she still despised you.

You let out a soft groan when she pulled her hand away from your core, leaving you wanting more "Please?" you mumbled. Your voice was soft, timid almost. You hated that she was putting you into this position, and that it had to be her out of all people. She had you wrapped around her finger already and you couldn't even understand why. She expressed her disapproval with a subtle clicking sound of her tongue, shaking her head just enough to convey her dissatisfaction. It wasn't enough. She needed more, better.

Her faint smirk suggested that she found the whole thing quite amusing. "Please, Ellie..." you tried again, you could see the irritation build on her face, she let out a long sigh and rolled her eyes in frustration. "Cat got your tongue, or what?" she asked, her voice tinged with impatience "I need you to be specific. Tell me exactly what you need from me."

Despite your usual confidence, you found yourself letting out an airy huff, almost as if to release some of the tension you were feeling. Beneath her, you felt so insignificant, so vulnerable. How her green eyes studied you made you feel so exposed, you needed her more than anything. Your underwear was damp, and the uncomfortable throbbing was getting worse by the second "I want you to fuck me, Ellie," you blurted out, a mischievous grin spread across her face, her eyes sparkling with amusement and desire. "Is that any better?"

"Good girl," she praised you. You could feel her fingers pulling your underwear down, leaving you bare from the hips down, you still had your tank top on but she was planning on taking it off soon, she was yearning to play with your tits, it was all she ever fantasized about. "Relax, okay?" she whispered due to the closeness, her face dangerously leaning into your neck. You could feel her taking in your scent, the same scent she claimed to hate so much, and soon attacking your neck with damp kisses. You tilted your head to the side and let her, as her fingers began to rub your aching nub, making you gasp at the contact, her hands were so cold, it almost made your hips jerk away, but she held you in place with her other hand, pressing her weight onto you to keep you down. Every little movement you made encouraged her to continue. Soft and small gasps left your lips. You quickly bit into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet, suddenly feeling pathetic for letting her do whatever she wanted to you.

"You know how long I've wanted to play with you like this, hm?" she purred into your neck, her fingers drawing slow circular motions on your clit, tracing your slit just to tease you "Fuck, you're soaked..." she murmured under her breath, more to herself than to you, taking note of every reaction you had to her touch. "You're a jerk, you know that right?" your voice came out softer than what you expected, it was impossible to be mad. How could you even be mad at her? She was making you feel so good. "Am I?" she slid a finger inside you, she could hear a few stifled moans coming from you, almost as if you were too proud to show her that she was touching you just in the right places, still struggling to believe you were letting her touch you. "Y-yes. I fucking hate you" you continued, trying to sound as mad as possible, she inserted another finger and began to pump them in and out of you "Why are you letting me touch you like this, then?" she had this sarcastic and taunting tone that would've usually made you mad if she wasn't fucking you right now. "Cause— can't sleep," you stammered out, and she chuckled at your words, amusement etching across her features "Yeah, that's obviously why you're letting me fuck you" She couldn't help but find this funny. You were always so confident, acting like she had no power over you and had her believing she couldn't bring you down no matter what, that whatever she did to you was useless...until now. So finger drunk, you needed her; it only served to boost her ego, making her realize that you weren't so bulletproof and unreachable after all.

"You dress like a fucking slut. Why do you even dress like that, hm? So that Luke guy can drool over you?" It was as if a floodgate had opened, and all her pent-up thoughts suddenly came pouring out as she kept finger-fucking you, her thumb teasing your clit every now and then. "L-luke?" You echoed her words perplexed, wispy brows furrowing together as you struggled to keep yourself quiet. You couldn't even fucking remember a guy named Luke, yet, there she was, acting like a jealous girlfriend while fucking you. "Yeah, Luke —fuck. you have an idea of how bad I've been wanting to bend you over your stupid desk and fuck you hard?" Her tone was rough, her voice dripping with jealousy and perhaps possessiveness, not that she had any right to act that way. "I thought you hated me" She snorted at your words, her eyes darkening with desire and a small grin on her face. "I still fucking hate you, don't be pathetic" she snarked out, pumping her fingers harder and deeper into you, curling her digits ever so slightly; she had your legs trembling like crazy and whining like the slut you were. "Hmm—fucking hate you back" you managed to say between a few whimpers. "Y'know what?" she abruptly pulled her fingers out of you, earning a small groan from your part "No no no" you complained, your voice laced with desperation as a small frown appeared on your features. "Take your top off," she commanded without giving you a further explanation "Your bra too." she added. You watched as she rose from the bed, and made her way over to where her backpack lay, discarded on her side of the bed. You followed her movements with your eyes, curious about what she was looking for. She rummaged through the bag's contents for a few moments before pulling out whatever she needed. A fucking purple strap. "Let's see if I can make you hate me even more." You could not look away, keeping your eyes glued on her as the auburnette stripped down her clothes with a purpose. Your eyes remained locked on her body as she moved and shifted, removing her clothing one piece at the other. You watched her put on her strap-on, her body was more muscular and toned than you expected, her well-defined abs making you almost salivate at the sight. "And you expect me to take that shit?" you blunted out, pointing at the long silicone dick standing erect, attached to her body, her v-line prominent "You're gonna take every inch of it, pretty," her tone was demanding, leaving you no room to argue with her decision.

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen." you firmly retorted, completely reluctant at the idea, but she was already straddling your lap, spreading your legs wide to adjust you into the position she wanted. If anything, your reluctance only seemed to spark a playful glint in her eyes. She was clearly intent on having her way with you. "You gonna be a good girl f'me." She hushed you, holding the shaft still and licking her lips hungrily as she peered at your wet entrance. You squirmed and tried to close your legs but she wouldn't let you. She quickly spread them apart again, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of your inner thighs as she pinned them down to the mattress. "Nah-uh. Spread 'em open f'me, princess. I won't hurt you, promise." Her tone slightly shifted into more gentle one, and her eyes hungrily glazed over you. You let out a shaky breath and tried to relax all the tensed muscles in your body; she made you feel so vulnerable in that position. "Ready?" She asked before pushing the tip in, slowly, stretching your pussy out so good "Ahh, shit" you hissed, eyes shutting immediately at the new sensation, you weren't prepared for it. "Hurts?" you shook your head to reassure her. "Hurts good." She smirked, enjoying the feeling of power that she had over you. She started to thrust in slowly, only pushing an inch in every two minutes, allowing your cunt to adjust to it. She groaned softly, watching you squirm under her, enjoying how much you wanted it from her. "You're so fuckin' soaked, it's going in so easily" she commented, chuckling at your state. You were indeed fucking soaked, your juices dripping down your pussy, making a mess on the sheets. You arched your back when half of her strap was in, pushing your hips down to allow the strap to slip deeper into you, your cervix suddenly yearning for it. You gasped when the slight pain immediately turned into pleasure, your legs were shaking like crazy, so fucking pathetic; she loved the messy state she got you in. "Look at you, god" her voice above a whisper as she took in your naked body and the glistening strap that was sliding in and out of you. "Oh my god," you moaned, wrapping your legs around her waist to push her deeper into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head; all this pleasure was almost unbearable, but it wasn't enough for her. Her head lowered just enough to take your neglected hard nipples into her mouth, sucking on them. You could feel the tip of her tongue circling the hard nub before releasing it with a pop, switching to the other nipple to give it equal attention. Your boobs were better than she had imagined, so fucking beautiful.

"Always bending over when I walk by. Was this what you were trying to achieve?" she rasped out, slamming her dick into you hard. "Ellie!" a muffled cry escaped your lips as the corners of your eyes filled with unshed tears began to glisten, seeing you like this was one of her favorite things. You were so pretty and desperate, she couldn't get enough. The tip of her purple cock was hitting your cervix just right; obscene moans, a symphony of lustful ardor flooded the air filling the hotel room. "I asked you a question, baby" She grasped your chin firmly and forced you to meet her gaze. Your head swiveled back and forth, your brows quivered under her unrelenting gaze. A soft sniffle emanated from your nose as you attempted to produce a clear response "N-no," but both of you knew that wasn't the truth. You were acutely aware of how she gazed at you with unbridled desire and hunger. The way her emerald orbs scrutinized every inch of your body left you flustered, almost as if she could devour you with just her gaze and you couldn't help but like it.

The strap sliding out as she said "Dunno, sounds like a lie to me" only to slam it back in even harder than before, causing you to squeal. Tears welled up, their weight unbearable on your eyelids. "P-please, I can't…" you pleaded with a feeble voice; it was almost imperceptible to the ear, but she could hear it loud and clear. Her ears were enhanced, honed in on the sound of every little gasp that escaped your mouth, each breath you took, every moan of pleasure. "Can't what, huh?" She appeared to be playing dumb, fully aware of the intense feelings coursing through every fiber of your body. As she moved in and out of you faster and faster, she could not help but feel the heat radiating from every inch of your skin, making her own body burn with desire. She knew that she had complete domination over you, that she had reduced you to nothing more than a helpless puppet at her mercy; she had you crying and moaning like a porn star. "Feeling good, angel?" Your cute whimpers only added fuel to her desire, fueling her to go harder and harder. Her fingers dug into the soft, warm fat of your hips, and her nails sank into the flesh, leaving small crescents behind on your skin. She was not being soft or gentle anymore. Instead, she was rough with you, enjoying her domination and relishing in the feeling of having her way with you.

"Gonna cum on my cock, yeah?" she purred, sending a chill up your spine as her words penetrated your ears, your body was completely at her mercy, and it seemed as though she was the only thing that existed at that moment "No one's gonna fuck you better than me," and you knew she was right. She could feel your walls clenching around her, almost as if you were trying to trap her in. She could tell you were about to cum. The familiar sensation of the knot snapping overcame you, causing you to cry out her name. Your polished nails dug into her back, drawing faint, pink-ish lines that would remain there until the next morning. For some reason, she loved the idea of having a small reminder of what you two had done together on her body. Like a souvenir, one which would bring back fond memories each time she looked at it; Ellie was secretly a sucker for that kind of stuff. Her body pressed closely against yours, her heartbeat as frantic as yours. You could feel every breath she took as she panted on your bare shoulder, the heat of her breath filling your senses and your skin tingling under her touch.

As your high began to fade, she pulled out of you, bringing you back down to earth and back to reality. "Fuck" She breathed out, slowly sinking down next to you on the mattress. You just stared up at the ceiling, completely exhausted and out of breath "Best ride of your life, huh?" both of you were exhausted, but of course, she couldn't resist the urge to tease you a bit more, "Yeah, not bad" You tried to retain the facade of being unemotional and cool, but you were still feeling the aftereffects, your body still trembling "Not bad? I think you have a hard time admitting your feelings" You scoffed at the words; you didn't want to boost her ego and risk her teasing you even more the following day. Your voice stayed calm and composed, but your body language was betraying you. "My feelings for you? I hate you. Nothing more"

"Hate me so much you came all over my dick" She taunted you playfully, a mischievous grin tugging at the corner of her lips. Her eyes never left yours for a second, a gaze that was intense and tantalizing. Eventually, you turned to your side to face her, the side of your face sinking into the soft pillow, still blushing from the previous activities, a display of your vulnerability and sensitivity that was hard to hide. Her playful demeanor and teasing were making it difficult for you to keep your cool. "Why do you even go around with that thing?" You couldn't help but ask her the question that had been lingering in your mind the moment she pulled it out of her backpack. "Was planning to use it, obviously," She gestured with her hands as she explained herself. "Not with you, of course." She was quick to add, as if she had predicted the questions that were going to come next from you and you raised your eyebrows at her, your body language showing some skepticism about her answer. Such a fucking liar she was. Sure, she brought it everywhere she went just in case, but she totally dreamt of using it with you, her dirty mind filled with fantasies about the ways she could use it with you. "Such a dick," You rolled your eyes and turned away from her. You could hear her snicker at your words. Unexpectedly, she pulls you closer, her bare chest pressing against your back. Both of you are still sweaty from the night's activities, and you can feel her body heat radiating onto you, her arms wrapped around you tightly. "What're you doin'?" You groaned in protest, trying to get away from her grip. You wanted her to let you go, but at the same time, you couldn't help but feel the urge to lean into her touch, a contradiction between your internal feelings and your physical body's reaction. She ignored you and kept hugging you, pulling your body against hers. Your breath hitched as you felt her touch and her body against you. "Spoonin' the shit outta you," She was so nonchalant about it that it drove you crazy. It was almost as if she never really tried to make your life miserable every day. But you couldn't help the flutter in your stomach, your cheeks getting warmer and hotter by the simple gesture. Your body was reacting to her touch without you even realizing which was an unexpected yet welcome feeling. You were thankful for everything that she couldn't see your flushed state. "Yeah, whatever," you grumble, trying to sound pissed off although you're actually feeling quite the opposite. "Sleep well, pretty," She mumbled tiredly, sending a wave of confusion through your body as her lips brushed your shoulder. It was a small gesture, one that should not have warranted this level of reaction. But your body had other ideas. A wave of butterflies erupted in your belly, making you feel a bit dazed for a moment and smile like an idiot.

The following days were filled with unspoken tension and the usual bickering. But this time it was different. There was something more lingering in the air, as though that night you had together had changed the feeling between the two of you. Although the change was subtle, it was there and could not be ignored. She started to think that maybe, she didn't despise you as much as she thought she did, and she started to put up with your behavior as if it wasn't that annoying after all, but she never dared to share that sentiment, as she was afraid you would reject her or not see her in the same way. She would always find any excuse to touch you briefly, grope your ass or your tits, and to her surprise, you would let her; her hands would brush against your body, her grip lingering just a bit longer than necessary. And she seemed to be getting clingier, she hated not being the center of your attention, even for a second. Even though she knew you were writing an article and had a deadline to make, she could not stand it when you were so dismissive of her need for your attention. She tried distracting you by cupping your breasts, hoping to get your focus off your work, but you would just push her away each time. "i really, really, need to finish this." shooing her away like a stray dog with a wave of your hand. She took advantage of your distracted state to sneak under the small hotel desk, one of her tactics to get your attention. The warm palms of her hands gently rubbed both of your knees, a sudden contact that caught you off guard. You jolted at the sensation and pushed your chair back slightly in response, your eyes following her hands as she moved them to your knees. "What're you doing?" You asked her, perhaps with an edge of irritation in your voice, your tone tinged with annoyance and trying desperately to maintain your focus. It was the third time she tried to distract you, and although you found it cute, you needed to finish your article. "What do you think I'm doing?" She looked up at you, raising her eyes to meet yours, as she spread your legs open. She pulled you closer, her hands now roaming freely over your thighs, touching you in ways that made you tremble. It was clear that she had no intention of leaving you alone, and was willing to go to greater lengths to get your entire attention. "Ellie, I seriously need to finish this stupid article," You protested weakly, trying desperately to retain your focus and not give in to her charms. However, the way she was looking up at you from under the desk was more than enough to make you fold the slightest bit. The way her eyes glimmered with desire, the way she was holding your legs and pulling you close to her, it was all taking its toll on your body, making your pussy throb with anticipation and excitement.

"Just wanna help" She shrugged in a playful manner and acted all innocent and cutesy, but the mischievous look in her eyes said otherwise. She was teasing you, knowing full well what she was doing and how she was affecting you, she was enjoying the power dynamic and knew you would not be able to resist her. You sighed and rolled your eyes at her "Fine" You eventually gave in, unable to resist her; an expression of triumph appeared on her face as she knew that her teasing efforts had been successful. "Lean back, beautiful" She demanded softly, her hand reaching up to press on your abdomen to push your back against the chair. You helped her roll up the black skirt to give her better access to your core, making her grin even wider at your willingness. Her fingers immediately hooked onto the waistband of your panties, sliding them down slowly, revealing your pussy to her. "So fucking pretty" She couldn't help but voice her thoughts, her obsession with your pussy was clear, and she had been dreaming of tasting you ever since that night. It was a shame that she hadn't had the chance before, but she was more than determined to make up for lost time. Already two days had passed from that night and she felt like she was going crazy already.

Her soft lips kissed your inner thighs, sending shivers up your body as they brushed near your sensitive flesh. You could feel her breath as her lips touched your body, and it was an incredible sensation, driving you utterly insane. She loved driving you crazy and she was great at it. "Ellie, your teasing is getting old" You huffed trying to hide how worked up she was getting you. Every touch of her lips on your skin made your body twitch uncontrollably, every caress of her hands sent shivers through your body. Your breath was getting heavier, you could feel your body start reacting to her exploration. "Doesn't seem like it to me, especially judging by your pussy — God, so wet." Before you could even open your mouth to reply, she gave you a small, catlike lick, almost as if she was testing the waters to see how you would react. You felt a jolt through your body as she explored your wetness, sending shivers down your spine and making you squirm in your seat. When she tasted you, she could have sworn her head spun from the sensation, nothing came close to the taste of you. In a quick movement, her arms wrapped around your legs, pulling your dripping cunt closer to her face as she devoured you hungrily. The sensation of her mouth on you was almost unbearable. Her tongue flicked expertly, teasing and tasting every inch of you. The cute sounds she made against your cunt barely audible over your high-pitched moans.

She loved how responsive your body was, how wet you easily got at her touch. It made her stomach do pathetic flip-flops, feeling like a schoolgirl in love. She loved having such control over you, and it made her feel powerful. Your hands gripped the edges of the desk tightly, your breaths becoming more ragged as she continued her work. "Fuck...need—need more, please."

She knew exactly what you needed and was more than ready to provide it. She slid two fingers inside you, curling them enough to reach your g-spot with such ease that you nearly screamed. You were already struggling to keep your legs open, you could feel your orgasm nearing and she could sense it too. She continued to finger you mercilessly, her other hand holding your hip firmly in place; you always moved a lot whenever you were close; that's what she learned in the last few days. Your head rolled back, your legs tensing up as you felt a surge of pleasure coursed throughout your body. Everything was tense, and your breath heaved slowly, and your mouth hung open. Your entire body was in a state of pure ecstasy, your mind barely able to think clearly as you tried to process the overwhelming sensation. "Guh-od," you choked on your own words, the sounds of your breathing getting heavier and heavier as you came in her mouth, the slight slurping noises she made were absolutely disgusting.

When she pulled away, she was gasping for air, and you could see the satisfaction on her face as she had taken care of you. It was clear that she had enjoyed herself as much as you had, and she had absolutely no regret or shame about what she had just done. Feeling you cum on her fingers and in her mouth was even better than fucking you senseless with her strap. "You taste so fucking-" But you cut her off, grasping her hand still gripping into your hip. The sudden movement made her freeze for a moment, taken by surprise as she was still trying to process the intensity of the moment. "I wanna taste you too." You got up from your chair, pulling her up with you. You held her close to your body, your feet moving slowly towards the bed. As you walked backwards, you kept her just an inches away from your body, your grip tight around her waist. "Oh really?" She cracked a playful smile, amused by your statement, clearly in for whatever you had in store for her. When the back of your knee hit the bed, her hand gently pressed on your chest to push you down onto the bed. Everyone knew how the rest would go, you were bound to continue where she left off.

✩ coworker!ellie acted like nothing happened when your little business trip ended, and things went back to how they were. It was as if all the conversations and moments between you two never existed like she had never touched you. She went back to her usual routine of barely talking to you, and when she did, it was usually something negative. You didn't know what to make of her behavior. You expected some kind of reaction from her, but not...this.

✩ coworker!ellie would seem completely normal when you were alone, but when you were in your work environment, she became distant and aloof. She would occasionally take you out on dates and be affectionate after your hookups, but it was such a confusing situation to be in; her actions seemed to contradict each other. She'd act like a jealous girlfriend if someone approached you but she wouldn't commit to you.

She always ensured no one was around before touching you or even saying something remotely sweet to you. She'd sneak behind you and wrap her arms around your waist while you were too busy with something to notice. Her breath would hit the side of your neck, and when you tilted your head to give her easy access, she'd attack your neck with kisses. Or she'd compliment you, but it'd be in her own style and all. "You look like a slut in that" followed by a "Can't wait to fuck you tonight"

✩ coworker!ellie gave you the silent treatment for an entire week after confronting her about her confusing behavior. You couldn't help but feel frustrated by her lack of communication, and you wondered if it was worth pursuing a relationship with someone who couldn't express her feelings properly. One day, when you arrived at work, you found a beautiful bouquet of red roses sitting on your desk, accompanied by your favorite coffee.

She was leaning against your desk, patiently waiting for you to arrive. You couldn't hide your surprise, and you asked her what it was all about. "Got you a lil somethin'," she said, handing you the roses. You tried to remain calm, but you were still hurt by her previous behavior. How could she ignore you for a whole week and get you roses like nothing happened? "I'm tired of your stupid mind games" You frowned slightly "What do you want?!" You let out a frustrated sigh. "No weird shit this time, I promise" she said. "I want to make it official between us." You were skeptical, but a part of you wanted to believe her. You had strong feelings for her, and you couldn't deny that you wanted to take things to the next level, but you needed to be sure that she was serious about your relationship, so you didn't accept right away. She needed to earn it.

✩ coworker!ellie spent weeks trying to make amends and apologize, but you initially remained distant and unresponsive. She tried to win back your affection with small gifts and kind gestures, but it seemed like that wasn't enough. You only wanted her to publicly demonstrate her affection and show everyone how much she truly cared. Eventually, she seemed to get the hint and adjusted her approach. The way she asked you out was...romantic.

You were way too engrossed in organizing the papers on your desk and you failed to notice her walking up behind you. You could hear her footsteps as she entered your shared office, but you didn't expect her to approach you. You heard the door close, but you were too deep in thought, standing before your desk, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you sorted through the papers. Suddenly, you felt her arms wrap around you from behind, and you let out a small yelp of surprise. Her lips hovered over your neck, where she left a few gentle kisses that made you instinctively tilt your head to the side.

Her hands lowered to your hips, pushing your butt into her crotch; you pushed back slightly, trying to get away but she was just too tempting, and the feeling of her body pressed against yours was too much for you to resist. "What do you think you're doing?" You sighed, trying to sound annoyed. "I want you." Despite your body craving her touch, you knew better than to fall for her emphasis on the word 'you'. Every part of you was trying to resist, calling you to give in to the temptation of her sweet words, of her tender lips on your necks, but the rational side of you knew that this could not end well. But god, the way she was touching you, her hands fidgeting with the hem of your skirt, it was driving you crazy, she was driving you crazy.

You took hold of her hands and held them firmly to prevent further movement. "You're too much of a pussy to actually treat me right in front of other people" The moment your words left your lips, you could see them reach her and resonate with her in a way that you didn't quite expect. She was visibly taken aback, but she didn't stop what she was doing. "I told you I want you. I'm more than serious," she insisted, her tone serious and unwavering. Her hands lifted your skirt slightly, causing you to immediately glance towards the locked door. "Here? Now?" you internally panicked, and she could feel your body tensing up in her hands, but she hushed you. "Everyone's on a break, no one will walk by," whispering tantalizing words into your ears that set your body on fire and made your heart race. "Just keep it quiet, we'll be quick" so you gave in cause how could you not? the way she kept pushing your ass closer to her pussy was just enough for you; her body language screamed desperate, and honestly, so did yours.

Her lips kept kissing your neck, and she knew exactly where the sweet spot was; she knew your body like the back of her hand. Her hands slowly trailed over your body, cupping your breasts and squeezing them, massaging them in circular motions through the fabric. A stifled whimper echoed in the small office and you could feel yourself getting wet, your pussy throbbing like crazy already. "Y-you can't just...do this and act distant when we're in public" she already had you stuttering and struggling to keep your breath even, your voice coming out a lot softer than intended, making her smirk against your soft skin. "I want you" She repeated, her tone serious and sultry, like a serpent tempting you with her words, luring you in with her touches; you sighed at her words. "What kind of I want you are we talking about?" You watched her hands roam all over your body, and they seemed to have a life of their own. She pressed your back into hers, her tattooed arm trailing down to your skirt, sliding under it and inside your panties. "I want to fuck you, I want you to cum on my fingers, and I want you to be mine," you gasped when her fingers found your clit with such ease, rubbing it "Be yours?" You uttered weakly, trying to contain your whimpers. The sensation of her touch was too intense for you to keep quiet, and every little sound you made felt like a confession; you wanted this, you wanted her hands on you, and you wanted her lips. She hummed back in response. "Be mine."

"Ellie, I want to be your-" You let out a slight moan as she rubbed your throbbing nub faster, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your hands reached out to grip the edge of the desk to support yourself as your poor legs were starting to give up. The feeling was overwhelming, almost as if she was controlling every inch of you with her touch, and your body was telling you that you had no control anymore. "What was that, huh?" Her tone was mocking, and she loved seeing you squirm and twitch in her grip. Every tiny movement of your body was like a sign that she had that control, that you were her puppet and she was the master in this little game of hers. She loved playing with you, making you lose control, and watching you react to her touch, her words, everything she did. "Girlfriend," you gasped out, finishing your sentence. "You wanna be my girlfriend, baby?" to which you responded with a moan and nod. Without warning, she pulled her hand out of your panties and pushed you down onto the desk. Your whole torso was pressed against the cold surface of your desk, accidentally scattering the papers you were organizing earlier. The girl wasted no time in pulling your skirt up, her green irises focusing on the wet spot she had created — fucking soaked; she licked her lips hungrily, pulling your pink underwear down. "Tell me what else you want, pretty" her fingers tracing your slit teasingly, collecting all your slick and messily smearing it all over your pussy. You shut your eyes, remembering yourself to keep it quiet.

"So ready for me—nice and wet, just how I like it." Before you could give her a proper answer or anything, she smoothly slid two fingers into your hole, sounds of pleasure filling the small room, hoping no one could hear you. "Want you to...fuck...treat me better," Her fingers picked up the pace, pumping in and out of you faster, almost giving you no time to adjust to them, she was so fucking desperate to make you cum on her fingers and god if anyone walked by, they would've been fucking traumatized, it was fucking obscene. Ellie finger fucking you from behind; she had you bent on your desk, just like she had always dreamt of.

"Treat you better, got it — Keep talking, princess." She just loved teasing you. She had you wildly writhing on your now messy desk, struggling to keep your mouth shut, yet she loved it. She loved the tremble in your voice as you tried to keep those cute little whimpers of yours at bay. So dreamy, such a slut you were for her. "I was so- mmph…upset when you…ignored me for a week." Each moan, each gasping breath, told her exactly how close she was bringing you to the edge. And oh, how Ellie loved being in control of that. "Yeah? I made you all sad?" her tone was mocking again, and her fingers moved faster and harder with each word that came out of you just to make it extra harder for you to hold your moans, such a cunt she was. You moaned in response, but apparently, that wasn't enough for her. "No, princess. I wanna talk it out. Use your words."

You whimpered and pushed your hips backward, meeting her thrusts. "I was...Ellie, please..." but she clicked her tongue "Was what?" She urged you, demanding that you finish your sentence. You couldn't see her face, but you knew just by her tone that a cocky grin lingered on those freckled features you loved so much. "Upset, con- confused" you stammered, bucking your hips against her hands as she kept fingering you mercilessly. "Why?" she knew exactly why, it was just an excuse to keep you talking. "Cause I couldn't understand, I just- 'm close." slutty moans echoed in the small office, no longer caring if anyone who passed by would hear you, you were far too gone for that, far too gone to think and use your brain. "I know angel, just tell me how you felt." all your juices making a mess of her hand, not that she cared, you were dripping all over her fingers and hand; completely enamored with the way your body reacted to her touch.

"I just wanted you and- oh my god!" and just like that, you exploded on her fingers; she hovered over your body, bending down over you just to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, her fingers still buried deep inside you, letting you ride out your orgasm. Your breathing was ragged, panting like a dog. "Wanna be my girlfriend?" she whispered in your ear, leaving a few kisses on your neck. "Yeah," you breathed out. "Yeah?" she echoed with a cheeky smile creeping up her face, though you couldn't see it. "Yes, but I'm not your fucking secret." you tried to sound threatening and she couldn't help but chuckle dryly at your words, wrapping her arms around your waist. "Not gonna be my little secret."

And she kept her word.

✩ coworker!ellie went from your biggest hater to your biggest fan. Could you imagine it? Well, no one could. She would bring you up in any context or situation, always speaking so highly of you. Your boss was taken aback by the sudden shift in her attitude. The same-room-same-bed mistake was indeed just a way to help you resolve your issues but never he expected that the two of you would hit it off so well, let alone dating. Safe to say that no one saw it coming.

"Could you give this to y/n?" "Who?" "y/n" "Ohhh...my girlfriend? Sure, will do." throwing 'the bomb' like that so randomly, obviously left your boss thinking she was just joking. No one actually believed her until you confirmed it.

✩ coworker!ellie couldn't stop yapping about you to everyone in your workplace (and outside), it was almost nauseating how much of a lovesick girl she became overnight, shocking. No one could stand her ass for more than two seconds. Constantly talking and rambling about how perfect and beautiful you were, how good you were in what you did — basically acting like a proud girlfriend, showing you off at any chance she got.

✩ coworker!ellie wears one of those customized 'i love my gf' shirts with your face just to embarrass you.

"Ellie, what. the. fuck. are you wearing?" you wanted to be mad, pissed, but it was genuinely funny and you found yourself unable to contain your laughter. She looked utterly stupid in that but you couldn't help but smile. "Told you, not gonna keep you a secret. Everybody needs to know." and she was so dramatic about it, making a bunch of customized things with your face. Shirts, boxers (which you really liked), mugs that she'd keep in her office, either to use them or to just put all her pens in, jackets, anything.

✩ coworker!ellie was always sticking to you like glue, never leaving your side no matter where you were. She would follow you around the office like a puppy, her hands always on your body. You couldn't have a conversation with anyone without her hovering nearby, listening in. She would steal quick kisses from you whenever she got the chance, be it in a meeting or in the presence of others.

Dina stood casually leaning against the doorframe, her eyes fixed on the scene in front of her. Jesse, her boyfriend, emerged from his office with a broad grin on his face, looking a little bemused. Dina couldn't help but smirk "You owe me 50 bucks," she announced, her voice ringing with the sound of victory. Jesse looked at her with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. "You saw it coming?" he asked her incredulously, raising an eyebrow. The brunette shrugged, the smirk still firmly in place on her face. "It was bound to happen at some point," she stated "and I won, so...50 bucks." She held out her hand, waiting for Jesse to hand over the cash. He rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile at his girl's enthusiasm. "Fine, you win," he said, handing over the money. "And you're taking me out for dinner tonight," she added with a grin, her tone smug. "Anything for you, my love,"

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makkir0ll · 19 days

Text

"you have really long eyelashes"

it catches him off guard. you guys are just laying in your bed scrolling on your own phones. he didn't even feel you staring at him. how long have you been looking?

"thanks?" he replies

"no i mean seriously like drop the lash serum." you joke at him as you continue to observe him.

they're long and thick. the kind of lashes that have a natural curl, unlike yours, that fall straight down and take several minutes to curl to your perfect liking. not to mention the layers of mascara you apply to get them to even remotely look like his.

he turns his head to you and you don't miss his dilated pupils as his eyes bore into yours. you take note of how the lashes perfectly frame his eyes. and you're so jealous.

but then an idea pops into your head, you smile to yourself and he senses it coming.

"can i-"

"no" he cuts you off.

"babe please you don't even know what i was about to say!" you grab onto his shoulder as you plead.

"whatever it is im sure it's going to be bad." he retorts, turning his face away from you and going back on his phone.

"i'll buy you you're favorite food."

and that's how you end up here on his lap with your mascara in your hand. his hair is pushed back as his hands rest on your hips, drawing small circles as he awaits your actions.

you open the bottle with the black liquid and bring the wand close to his eyes. "don't move" you whisper and he listens. mainly because he's scared that you're going to poke his eye out as you bring the wand to the base of his eyelashes and wiggle it slowly before moving it up to coat the length of the lashes. some of the mascara gets on his eyelids. you repeat the actions on the other eye before going back and doing a second coat. you can tell that he might be slightly nervous that you're going to blind him with the way he holds his breath and the grip he has on your hips get ever so slightly tighter.

you move yourself off his lap and he goes to grab his phone so he can see what he looks like.

"wait no not yet, i'm still not done" you say as you go and grab ur q-tips and micellar water.

"still?"

"yes still, i need to clean up the mascara on your eyelids," you say as you place yourself back on his lap. you open the bottle of micellar water and carefully put the clear liquid on the q-tip. you bring the white stick of cotton to his eyes and you tell him to close them. he feels the wet cotton and it's a weird feeling. you watch the q-tip turn darker the more mascara you wipe off.

"okay i'm done!" you say and he opens his eyes and you don't think he's ever looked more majestic. his already long lashes looking even longer and bolder now that he has the mascara to bring them out. you notice that the color of his eyes pop more. "you look so pretty" you smile as lean in to pepper kisses along his face. his cheeks feel warm and he can already tell that they're probably red.

he reaches over to his phone and opens the camera app and switches the camera so he can see himself. and he immediatly notices the stark difference in his eyes with the mascara. he brings his fingers to his lashes to touch them. it feels weird and his eyes kind of feel weighed down. but he has no regrets when he sees you smiling at him so fondly.

"they look nice." he smiles at you, dropping his phone to the side.

"i know right, ugh im so jealous i wish i had your lashes. all my problems would be solved." you say, thinking about the long and excruciating lash routine you perform every morning.

"all of them?"

"yes, all of them."

he chuckles at your words. "alright, but can you take it off now, it feels weird." he says, hands coming to touch his lashes again. you pout as you grab the micellar water you put away and a cotton pad and remove the mascara from his eyelashes, being gentle so that he doesn't lose a few. he appreciates the action. and maybe he would let you put more than just mascara on his face another day.

KAGEYAMA (has the best lashes argue with the wall), suna, tsukishima (genuinely terrified that you're going to make him go blind), OSAMU, kuroo, MATSUKAWA MY LOVE, iwaizumi, OIKAWA (he would eat that shit up), akaashi, kenma, +ur fav.

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undressrehearsal · 29 days

Text

dare to fuck this up

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

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

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

part 1

You hadn't talked about it.

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

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

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

That had been three weeks ago.

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

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

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

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

Fine.

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

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

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

You pursed your lips and knocked again, harder.

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

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

“What the hell are you-”

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

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

And her eyes…. Her eyes were completely shattered.

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

And the game began.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was definitely Hell. It had to be.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the clock kept ticking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But this was too important to ignore.

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

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

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

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

And it was the lack of care that broke you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do we do now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You loved revenge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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starrystevie · 9 months

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eddie knows his crush on steve harrington is a hopeless cause, okay?

he's somehow been friends with steve long enough to know what he looks like when he's flirting, what he looks like when he has a crush, when his sights are set on someone very non-eddie munson shaped. he also now knows how to hide his jealousy in a fake smirk that he flashes steve's way when yet another pretty girl walks their way with her sights set on him and a smirk of her own.

eddie always watches as steve reaches out a hand just so to gently brush it against a lovely lady's arm with that charming fucking smile and sees how that lovely lady will always melt at the touch. and who could blame her? certainly not eddie, the same eddie who's had his own sights set on steve harrington for what feels like a life time. if anyone knows how painfully a heart can beat when it sees him from across the room and imagines a date and a future and a life with steve, it would be eddie.

but that's where it ends. steve harrington, the ladies man that he is, always stops things there with a smile and a wave thrown in the woman's direction as she walks away. it throws eddie for a loop every time. he would watch the two flirt for minutes that that felt like torturous hours for him only for it to end with a disappointed look on her face and steve turning his attention back to eddie like nothing had happened.

it makes no sense.

"i don't get it, man," he says one day as steve lets yet another girl walk away down to the opposite end of the grocery store aisle they're in. steve's turned back to staring at the shopping list in his hand and is muttering to himself instead of watching her walk away like eddie is, disbelief coloring his face.

"don't get what?" steve asks back, not bothering to look up until the silence goes on for too long. his eyes land on eddie's and he frowns slightly, shaking his head slowly. "... did i miss something?"

eddie reels back, eyebrows furrowing together and motions his arms every which way, from the girl's retreating form to the empty space around them.

"steve, you're just going to let her walk away and not get her number? she was obviously hitting on you, dude."

he watches as steve's face crinkles slightly before smoothing out and shrugs his shoulders, turning back to grab the cat food eddie feeds to the strays off the shelf. he lurches forward and places his hands on steve's shoulders to face him, watching as his eyes go wide.

"what do you want me to say?" steve shrugs again and eddie can feel the movement under his hands. "i guess i wasn't feeling it."

eddie sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face before returning it back to steve's shoulder. "wasn't feeling it... steve, i'm gay, not blind. you two obviously were hitting it off with your fucking charming lines and flirty eyes. you always do this and it makes zero fucking sense-"

"-you're gay?"

steve says a bit too loud for eddie's liking even if they are currently hidden in the pet food aisle. heat floods his cheeks and he throws a hand cover steve's mouth while shushing him to keep him from saying it again. he sees steve's eyes go even wider and feels warmth spreading under his fingers.

is steve...

"you knew this!" eddie accuses in a whisper and tries to breathe evenly while steve's gaze travels all over his face. "we talked about it with robin that one time!"

... is he blushing?

there's a sudden pressure at his side and he looks down to see steve's fingers curling over his waist. eddie takes in a stuttering breath and brings his own wide eyes up to meet steve's. it's like looking in a fun house mirror, seeing his flush creeping up steve's neck and watching steve blink in time with him. he can feel when steve tries to say something, his lips ghosting over his palm and eddie pulls back like he's been burned, but steve's hand stays right where it is on his side.

"i absolutely would have remembered if you told me that before," he says and his voice is a little breathless. "there's no way i was there when you guys talked about it."

eddie thinks back to the party when he and robin were huddled up on their couch together. argyle and nancy were dancing in their socks on the living room floor, bouncing around to some experimental track that had been badly recorded on a cassette. jonathan was sitting at the coffee table snapping photos of them, joint hanging from his lips and easy smile spreading on his face.

eddie's trying to pinpoint where steve is in this memory and that's usually the easiest thing for him to remember, but he can't...

until suddenly he can, because steve walked in through the sliding door with his shirt over his shoulder and his swim trunks low on his hips and water dripping down his chest and a cigarette behind his ear and the sunset bleeding in through the windows was painting him golden and he was walking over to dance with nancy with a wide grin pulling at his cheeks and-

"god, i'm gay," eddie had breathed out. robin followed his line of sight and nodded because she gets it like she has a steve problem of her own and that was that.

eddie focuses back in on steve while they stand in the fucking pet food aisle, focuses on the shrill jingle pouring out of the grocery store speakers and not on the way he can hear his heartbeat in his ears, focuses on the way steve can look good even in harsh fluorescent lights.

"well, now you know," is all he can breath out.

steve smiles, all white teeth and crinkled eyes, and his fingers curl even tighter around eddie's waist as he takes a half step even further into his personal space.

"you're why," steve says back easily and eddie reminds himself to breathe as the other side of his waist suddenly has a hand covering it, too. "i don't take their numbers, i don't give them mine, i don't go on the stupid dates they ask me out on because..."

the fingers dance up his side and eddie can't breathe.

"... they're not you, so why would i?"

eddie sends up a silent thank you to whoever is listening that they're hidden away from prying eyes in the pet food aisle so he can lean it and learn for the first time what steve's smile tastes like.

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mvth3r · 16 days

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daryl doesn’t think he’s anything special. he never has. but to you? he’s everything.

5 times daryl feels your affection down to his core and the many 1 time he unconsciously returns the favor.

cw: 18+ MDNI, p-in-v, mention of injury, swearing, mostly fluff, 4283 words

a/n: this draft got the most votes in the poll, which was surprising tbh! next up medieval au, princess reader, forbidden romance?? hmmmm

one.

daryl hears you coming before he sees you. he knows it’s on purpose, so you don’t startle him (“and get an arrow in the tit or something, i don’t know!” you had explained, laughing). he’s long since taught you how to be quiet when walking over leaves and branches.

his eyes drifted in the direction of the noise, watching you melt out of the trees, water bottle in one hand and knife in the other. you had a bad habit of speeding through or ignoring your own duties in favor of tracking him out into the woods while he was hunting. the teasing looks from rick and carol when they saw the gates open in the evening, revealing the two of you instead of just him, were enough to have him blushing up to his ears, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop you. if anything, daryl found himself lingering closer to the prison when he was first setting out for the day and making his tracks a little easier for you to follow as he went on. he liked to think of it as a teaching moment, encouraging you to follow his lessons, but he knew what it really was.

he liked having you here with him, away from prying eyes and ears. daryl wasn’t big on pda, he’d never been, and you knew that, but you could be as affectionate as you wanted out here.

the smile that split you face when you saw daryl was blinding, creasing your eyes and cheeks, “hey, handsome.”

daryl felt his heart start to pound immediately in his chest and warmth radiate through his belly and down his limbs. he had the distant, bizarre thought that any walker for a few miles would probably be able to smell his blood as it rose rapidly to his face, coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

he scoffed quietly to keep the words he really wanted to say from spilling unbidden from his throat as you caught up to him, instead deadpanning, “handsome? really?”

you hummed, raising a hand to card through his long bangs, eyes tender when they met his, “mhm, very handsome. don’t i tell you every day?”

you leaned up to press a sweet kiss to his lips, no longer than a moment. you hand drifted from his hair down to cup his jaw as you did, and daryl found himself leaning into your palm, his own hand coming up to grip your wrist loosely.

you pulled away with a smaller, more intimate smile, one that daryl had only ever seen directed at him. and, if you had felt the pounding of his heart through his shirt or seen the intensity of his flush, you didn’t say a word.

two.

daryl was distracted.

this council meeting was dragging on much longer than intended. what was initially supposed to be a quick conversation about planning a run to get supplies for judith and a few of the other kids had turned into a heated debate about possibly opening up the council to a few of the people from woodbury. he could understand why. there was still a stark divide between their group and the new people, but daryl had been content to sit back and let the situation mend itself, so long as it didn't escalate.

the discussion was split down the middle. or.. maybe there were more in favor of maintaining the current council? daryl couldn’t tell because he couldn’t focus and he couldn’t focus because every time he tried to lock in on the conversation, he could feel your fingers brush over his knuckles.

earlier, when the meeting started, you had sat yourself right next to daryl, reached under the table, and grabbed his hand where it was resting on his knee. no fanfare, no lovesick gazes, just your fingers intertwined with his calloused ones like they belonged there. which, he mused to himself, maybe they do.

and so there your hand had remained as the meeting went on. every so often, you would brush your fingers lightly over his knuckles, or give his fingers a squeeze if you happened to catch his eyes… which would lead to you chuckling quietly to yourself when his neutral expression would warm over with a blush.

the meeting had been going on for at least an hour. god.

“daryl, what do you think?”

glenn’s voice cut through daryl’s thoughts like a knife. he jerked a little, almost dislodging your hand when he looked across the table, meeting the expectant stares of the council.

“uhh,” he grunted eloquently, “‘bout bringin’ some of them folks on?”

hershel nodded expectantly, his voice thoughtful, “don’t you think we could afford their input? after all, this is their home now just as much as it is ours.”

your fingers brushed again over his knuckles and daryl willed himself not to lose focus. not to allow his mind to run on with thoughts about the softness of your fingers and how much he liked the feeling of your palm against his. how comfortable-

no.

daryl blinked and cleared his throat, “we don’ even have rick on the council right now, i’on think it’s a good idea.”

glenn nodded along with maggie and, reluctantly a moment later, hershel did too, though his mouth had settled into a thin frown.

daryl felt your hand squeeze his twice, taking it as a nonverbal ‘good job!’, and paused only a moment before squeezing back his own nonverbal ‘thank you’. he saw a small smile flit across your face out the corner of his eye.

before the debate could start up again, you were leaning forward and speaking up, saying, “alright, let’s table this for next time then. the run is already planned for the baby stuff, so—?”

hershel’s eyes swept across the table and he nodded, “meeting adjourned, i suppose.”

three.

the woods were clear as daryl looked out over the gate. he could see everything from the watchtower, as was intended, but for once the calm darkness was not a comfort.

instead, every moment that passed heightened the panic that had been swirling in his gut since earlier that evening.

it had been roughly fourteen hours since you had left on a run with glenn and maggie. there was a small gas station a little ways out that looked to be mostly untouched, and you had been pulled to fill in daryl’s usual slot since he was already slated to go hunting.

he was regretting it now, though, as he continued to watch the road leading up to the gate for any sign of maggie’s headlights.

while the general rule of thumb was to be back to the prison before dark, everyone knew that sometimes shit happens, whether it be walkers appearing at the worst possible time, or not being able to secure the haul. hell, shit happened more often than it didn't, as far as daryl was concerned.

maybe the haul had been much larger than the three of you had planned for, and you had to hide some of it away for a return trip.

maybe y'all had come across a herd large enough to block the car's path and had to find a way around it to get home without leading them back behind you.

maybe the gas station had been a bust all together and you’d gone further out in hopes of not returning empty handed.

the thoughts swimming through his mind sent daryl pacing across the small area of the watchtower. back and forth he went, eyes flashing over to the gate of the prison every few seconds.

“you’re gonna wear out your shoes like that.”

oh right. daryl isn’t even on watch, not officially at least. he’d joined carol a little after the sun went down and been up here ever since.

carol continues on despite his brooding silence, “they’re okay. something probably held them up, it happens.”

daryl turned to face carol, scrubbing a hand down his face. he opening his mouth to respond, but before he could, the sound of wheels crunching across gravel made him whip back around.

he barely registered that it was maggie’s car before he was yanking the floor hatch open and climbing down. rick, who’d been poking around the farm despite the late hour, unwilling to admit his own anxiety, was already pulling the gate open to let the car in.

daryl stopped further up the hill to meet you, and, as soon as you popped the lock on your door, he was tugging it open with one hand and reaching for you with the other.

you went willingly, a sheepish smile on your face as you let him turn you this way and that, checking for any injuries or bites, neither of which you had.

“sorry i’m late, handsome,” you whispered, “i didn’t mean to worry you.”

daryl grunted in response, resisting the urge to press himself against you and feel your heart beat against his skin. he understood that you were capable, and that you had lasted just as long in the apocalypse as he had, but he can't help but wonder if he'll ever get used to this, or if he'll spend any moment you aren't within his reach on the edge of a panic attack.

by then, rick had made his way up the hill to the car and was helping unload their findings from the boot. all things considered, the three of you had brought back a pretty decent amount of stuff.

“everyone alright?” rick questioned, eyes skirting over the contents of the trunk to scan the three of you instead. "what held y'all up?"

maggie shook her head with a smile, “nothing like that. we found a good bit at that gas station, but there was a map of a small trailer park a little ways away, and we thought it was better to go for it while we were right down the road.”

“and we had the space anyway. didn’t make sense to waste a second trip, but it took a little longer to search than we thought,” you added. you had turned to face the group and, under the cover of the dark, you leaned back just slightly into daryl’s side.

carol, who had followed daryl down from the watchtower, hummed, and rick nodded thoughtfully. they both followed behind maggie and glenn, grabbing as much as they could carry from the car and heading up to deposit it for sorting tomorrow.

now alone, daryl took a moment to breathe you in, but he was moving soon as well, heading for the trunk to grab what was left.

he didn’t notice you coming up next to him until he felt your fingers slipping into his pocket.

“found something for you,” you said quietly, standing at his side.

daryl patted his pocket, feeling the dented box of what he assumed to be cigarettes and looked over at you, brows furrowed in confusion.

“i noticed you ran out the other day,” you answered his unasked question, a small smile lifting your cheeks, “combed through every trailer looking for ‘em.”

with that, you turned away from him and back to the trunk.

daryl stood speechless, his heart building up to that rapid thrum he only seemed to feel in your presence.

you had brought something back for him. had spent the daylight rummaging through dirty trailers on the off chance that you’d find a pack of cigarettes to replace his empty one that he himself hadn't even bothered to go searching to replace.

he wanted to think he didn’t understand why you would do something like this, why you would care, but he did. he’d done the same for you, time and time again on the road, if only to see you smile. he understood exactly why.

“‘preciate it,” he grunted, thankful that the darkness surrounding you kept his blush from being too obvious.

you hummed in acknowledgment, and daryl could your small smile growing out the corner of his eye.

four.

having sex in the prison was no easy feat, mostly due to the lack of privacy. a sheet could only provide so much, and even then it did nothing for the noise echoing constantly off the concrete walls.

as far as most were concerned, maggie and glenn had found the best spot early on, making the most unused watchtower their designated private retreat, but you and daryl knew otherwise.

deep in the tombs, which were no longer a threat as they had long since been cleared and sealed, there were a few tucked away offices that had sat empty even after the woodbury residents had been moved in. noise didn’t escape the tombs, and no one ever just wandered in, especially not in the middle of the night, so despite the cell that you and daryl shared, you both much preferred spending your more intimate moments here.

well, daryl did. you weren’t picky, and could be quiet when you really tried, but it made daryl more comfortable.

he’d like to think it was just because he was wary of any listening ears, especially with all the children roaming around, but he knew the truth of his resolve.

daryl had never been a selfish man, and certainly not after the world fell. everything he had, everything he was, he would give to his family in a heartbeat.

but this.. this was just for him.

your body arched beautifully under his, legs falling open to accommodate his weight settling against you. daryl’s hand left your heat, fingers dripping with wetness, to squeeze your hips, using them to guide you as your moved against him.

you were already bare, both of you having stripped each other of your clothes between heated kisses while you stumbled in the office. you hadn’t even made it to the double-stacked cot in the corner, daryl instead pushing you firmly down on the dusty desk and leaning in to mouth at your neck.

you moaned under him now, a breathy sigh of his name, and the sound sent a shiver down daryl’s spine.

“needy girl,” he grunted teasingly, reaching down to grasp his hardness. he dragged the head of his cock up your slit, collecting your wetness and smearing it over your clit.

your head knocked back against the desk and a loud groan burst out of your throat. your knees tried to close around daryl’s waist as if to keep him away, but you arms came up to wrap around him, pulling him closer to your body, and he leaned into you willingly.

your voice trembled when you spoke into his ear, want dripping from every syllable, “please, baby. need you inside me so bad.”

and god, daryl wanted to make you beg for it. he wanted to wait until he could see the desperation in your eyes and then wait some more, but he couldn’t. not when you looked so pretty spread out beneath him and your hands were petting over his shoulders and neck just how he liked. he almost thought you were doing it on purpose, but he knew better. this was just you.

you couldn’t stay off him when he was in you, always tugging at his hair or rubbing his chest, hands scrabbling for any skin you could reach. it used to send him reeling, flustered and blushing bright, but now he looked forward to it. he could feel the want in your touches like physical imprints of your affection.

daryl pushed into your slowly, groaning deep in his chest. your slick walls felt heavenly around him, but daryl was more focused on you right now.

soft whimpers fell from your lips as your hands drifted over his sweat slicked skin. daryl’s thrusts were slow but purposeful, and he ignored your legs squeezing around his waist, trying to urge him to speed up.

“relax, peach,” he soothed, hands drifting up and down your sides in pace with his thrusts, “i’ma take care of you.”

“kiss, please,” you whispered, voice floating past daryl’s ear. he would have missed it if you weren’t pressed together like this.

daryl would not describe himself as a selfish man. he might have had his moments in the past, but now, with the dead walking and a prison full of survivors to protect, it was virtually out of the question.

but as he leaned down to press his lips to yours, feeling your hands finally make their way up into his long strands, daryl thought that he might be a possessive man.

he’d sooner spread you out deep in the woods than have you where anyone could see you like this or hear the noises you make.

no, daryl thought, tongue sliding in your mouth to tangle with yours, this would always be just for him.

five.

daryl came into awareness slowly and then all at once. he startled, trying to sit up, but a searing pain made itself known in his abdomen. the pain clouded his senses, blooming out across his torso and down his limbs. he flops uselessly, feeling like the wind has been knocked out of him.

hearing bits of voices above him, daryl wills himself to focus. he’s hurt, obviously, and it’s pretty fucking bad, but he’ll have to suck it up and figure out a way home if he’s in bad company.

the voices start to filter in. the volume makes his temples throb in rhythm with his abdomen and his heart as the situation starts to force adrenaline through his body.

“—harder! put more pressure on it!”

daryl relaxes just a bit. that’s rick. frantic, angry, but rick all the same.

“what the fuck do you think i’m doing?!” the other voice, higher, snarls in response, “just drive the damn truck!”

and daryl feels his body try to relax all together. he would recognize your voice in his sleep, and this milky haze of pain is no different. he can feel your hands pressing a wad of something soft into his abdomen.

he can hear your panicked breaths and feel the way your fingers flex continuously against his skin. whatever’s wrong with him must be bad, and it definitely hurts like hell, but daryl takes comfort in the weight of your body against his. you won’t let anything happen to him if you can help it, you’d sworn that fiercely, and if you can’t help it then he doesn’t think anyone could have.

daryl can just barely make out the creaking of the gate being pulled open over the sound of rick laying on the horn.

as they pull in, the gravel of the path rocks the truck and daryl feels the ache in his abdomen bloom again, distracting him from his thoughts, but here, knowing he’s safe and back with his family, he allows himself to drift away.

—

this time, when daryl comes into awareness, the first thing he feels is fingers carding through his hair, tugging gently as if to untangle a couple of knots and snarls.

without even opening his eyes he knows it’s you. he can feel the heat of your body settled next to him and smell the soap you like to bathe with. daryl leans towards you, chasing the warmth of your hand against his skin.

the bandages on his stomach are wrapped tight, but it’s more annoying than anything and the pain has finally, thankfully, subsided to a dull ache. daryl stretches on the cot, trying to loosen him limbs from their inactivity, but what he focuses on is your fingers immediately pulling away.

“daryl?” your voice prods quietly, “you awake?”

he opens his eyes slowly, squinting at the sunlight that streams through the bars of the cell. the privacy sheet isn’t down, actually there’s no sheet at all, daryl notes as he looks out. he must be in one of the cells near hershel’s.

“‘m up,” he grumbles, a cough working its way out of his throat. before he can attempt to clear the dryness, you’re standing to grab a bottle of water off some boxes stacked nearby and pressing it into his hand.

your fingers linger against his wrist as you pull away, but you’re resuming your previous position anyway, in a chair brought right up to his bedside.

daryl hasn’t sat up yet, staring instead at you as one of your hands return to his hair and the other rubs down his arm.

a few quiet moments pass before you speak again, head bowed and voice a little choked, “we almost lost you. i almost lost you.”

“didn’t though,” daryl croaks. he feels your grip tighten on his arm and just knows. knows that you’ve been sitting right here every moment that you could since he went down. knows that you probably haven’t had your hands off him. knows you’ve spent the time, however long it’s been, agonizing over what went wrong and how to keep it from happening ever again. he knows.

“i didn’t,” you agree with a barely restrained sniffle. you refuse to allow the tears beading your waterline to fall, but daryl sees them all the same.

oddly, he feels that familiar warmth blossom in his chest. he hates to see you upset, but to see your love, your heart laid so bare for him? daryl thinks he can finally understand the depth of your affections.

plus one.

to anybody who knew what to look for, it was obvious that you and daryl were.. something.

you remembered when the woodbury residents had really began to settle in, how they began to whisper about ‘the hunter and his lady’.

it had confused you at first. the group knew, of course, nothing could be kept a secret from them for too long, but for strangers? it was odd, given that you weren’t very public with your affections.

regardless, with an entire prison to secure and almost triple the amount of people to provide for, it was nothing to think too hard about. there was always something that needed to be done or something bigger to think about. you couldn't afford to think about it now.

eventually, though, you ended up mentioning it to carol, and the older woman had laughed, a teasing edge to her smile as she considered you.

“i think it has less to do with you and more with him, if i’m being honest,” she said.

“more to do with.. daryl?” you said slowly, raising an incredulous eyebrow, “nah, no way.”

carol hummed, her smile turning knowing, “just watch. he’s more affectionate than he gives himself credit for.”

you’d left the conversation feeling like carol had no idea what she was talking about. later that evening, though, when you were sitting with the group for dinner and daryl was sliding a couple pieces of meat from his plate to yours despite your multiple protests, you understood.

your face must have been the textbook picture of a lightbulb going off because carol sent you a wink from across the table, lips twitching like she was hiding a laugh.

it wasn’t that the woodbury residents were over analyzing the very minimal physical affection that passed between you and daryl in a day, no. instead they were observing his quieter, more unconscious actions.

they saw the way that daryl always took care to come and find you before leaving for a run, even if it meant holding everyone up a little.

and how every so often they could find daryl sharpening a knife that was far too small for him to be wielding safely while you sat nearby, watching with a grateful smile.

and how whenever you were in the same room, you always had his eye. daryl had been adamant about keeping you within his sights while you were on the road, and the habit hadn’t left him just because you were behind walls now.

even now, months later, the newer additions to the prison were starting to catch on quicker and quicker.

they overheard daryl talking to glenn about taking your place on the run later today because you’d overdone it in the sun earlier and he wanted you to get some rest.

they saw you gush excitedly every time daryl brought you back any kind of gift, whether it be a pretty rock that he thought you’d like, or your favorite animal to cook into the stew.

they watched him watch the road every time you left for a run, regardless of who was with you, and also saw him come back to be the first to greet you when you returned if he could help it.

daryl was a quiet lover and a private man if you didn’t know what to look for, but if you did, you’d see that his affections ran just as deep as yours.

your thoughts brought a sleep smile to your face as you stretched out on the cot in your shared cell, waiting for daryl to shut off the lantern on your makeshift nightstand in the corner.

you could barely make him out in the dark, but the weight of him settling in next to you sent you right into his arms, your head pillowed on his chest while his arms came up to wrap around your back.

you tilted your head up to place a small kiss to the bottom of his jaw, mumbling a quiet, “love you.”

daryl’s arms tightened around you momentarily before loosening again. you felt him lean down to press a kiss to your hair in turn.

just over the steady thumping of his heart against your ear, you could hear him whisper back, “love you too.”

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #twd imagine #daryl x reader

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dancewithdeath11 · 23 days

Text

Say Sorry

Pairing: Jason Todd X Reader

Summary: Jason reminds you nobody is allowed to talk bad about you, including yourself.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT- (but not really, very self-indulgent) talks of body insecurity (stretchmarks, cellulite (specifically on thighs)), talks of wearing a skirt, mentions of prep & cunnilingus but none,

Word Count: 1.2k

======

“Fuckin- Stupid- Saying shit like that..”

It was your fault. Entirely. But how would you know what punishment your best friend would come up with?

It started out when you were about to go out. Constantly going from your bathroom to the thrifted full body mirror in the corner of your room. Midway through you trying to figure out what you were going to wear, he showed up. Jason was going to give you a ride. He huffed and sat on your bed when he saw you were still trying to pick an outfit. From there he was commenting on them, trying to help you out so the two of you could get going.

One of the outfits you picked out had a cute skirt that went to your mid-thigh. It was a pleated, classic plaid pattern with a nice brown color. You were pairing it with a brown sweater as well. Only problem was that you couldn't find any nylons to go with it. “Shit-” Turning to look at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but focus on your own thighs. Hands tugging at the skirt to try and cover what you were focusing on. But that only made it look awkward causing you to pull it back up.

“I like that one. Why haven’t I seen you wear that skirt before?” Jason asks as he sits up on the bed, giving you his attention once more. You turned again, looking from the other side. Either way you hated how you could see the cellulite and stretchmarks that patterned your thighs.

“I hate it. I should’ve stuck with the jeans!” Your head shook back and forth as you went to go to the bathroom again.

He stood up and stopped you, a firm hand on your upper arm. “Hey- Why do you hate it? It’s a good look, just do your makeup and we can go.” The man chuckled lightly. Looking up at him, you hesitated slightly before shaking your head again. “No..talk to me. What is it?”

Your eyes rolled as he took your shoulders, clearly not letting you go till he got you to talk to him. Jason was just that kind of friend. He was sweet and tried to help you where he could. A shoulder to lean on, a trusted confidant. “I..My thighs and skirts just don’t go together.” You tried to laugh it off slightly. However, he did not like that.

“Your thighs are fine.” It was his turn to shake his head, a deep frown pulling on his lips. Looking like he didn’t believe it. Like he heard the most obvious lie spoken to man.

“No-”

“Why would you say that your thighs and skirts don’t work together? Is there some war between us and skirts I’m not aware of?” He joked slightly, head ducking down to catch your gaze as you looked away. It melted your heart a little at the way he said us. A frustrated huff left your pouted lips as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“It’s- You can see my stretch marks, and my cellulite, it’s just not a good look.” You once more tried to brush it off like it wasn’t a big deal. But now his face hardened, an almost angry frown on his face and brows furrowed.

“Don’t say that.” He said, his voice stern as ever. This tone is unfamiliar to you, but even then you wanted to argue back, opening your mouth to do so. But he knew you well enough to not let you get away with that. “Don’t.” That was all he muttered as he took you by the hips and turned you, walking you back towards the bed. “You’re so blind, I swear, ma.” He grumbled under his breath as he made you sit on your bed.

But what started as a stern lecture from your best friend, quickly turned into more.

The evidence being the bites and hickeys on the insides of your thighs from when he ate you out till you couldn’t take it anymore. Slick coating them from when prepped you with his thick and long fingers. The pads of his fingers calloused from years of abuse, training, and killing. His grip on your thighs alone was enough to remind you what he was capable of. There would probably be bruises tomorrow.

“Fuck-” Was all you could hiccup as he bites down on the junction of your neck and shoulder. Finally fucking his entire length into you making you feel impossibly full. If you thought he was big before, this was a whole new definition.

Jason was a brick wall of a man. That was clear. Tall and broad, biceps that looked bigger than your head. But now you know, he was big in other places too. No wonder he was so attentive with prep, but even now it was still a lot.

He was kissing and licking along your tits as he scolded you, waiting patiently for you to adjust. Your back arched as he hugged you around your waist and held you close to reach your chest. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you whined to him, trying your best to watch him past his dark curls.

He lowered you back onto the covers. Sitting back on his hutches as he watched you with hooded eyes that skated along your hickey littered skin. The same look you’d see when he’d read poetry or admire art. Large hands gently skating up your sides. Thumbs coming to rest just under the swell of your tits, fingers splaying out across your ribs. “Real stupid..” He comes back down and nips at the sensitive skin. Pressing a final kiss there before coming face to face with you. Resting on his elbows on either side of your head as he hovered over you, hiding you from the coldness of your own bedroom. He pressed a feather light kiss to your lips before staying there. Whispering against them, “Say you're sorry. Say you’re sorry for sayin’ something so stupid about my girl.”

God, his eyes were really intense. The way he was staring at you alone was enough to make your face flush more than it already was.

“S-Sorry..” You whispered out weakly between shallow breaths. He chuckled slightly and nodded in approval, pulling out the slightest bit before stuffing himself back in. Your breathing stuttered as your hands searched desperately for something to grip, quickly latching onto his back. “Jay-”

“I know, ma...” He cooed softly as he sat up again, pulling you along with him. Your thighs draped over his leaving you pliant for him. Hugging around your middle once more as he thrusted slightly, pulling your back down onto him. Quickly you hugged around his shoulders not wanting to fall back. His lips pecked your jawline quickly before he locked you into a kiss. It was messy, uncoordinated and searing. Teeth clashing, heavy breathing and moans shared between the two of you. “God.. S’pretty for me, Princess..” He whispered against your lips as you pant softly.

It was slow but hard. The push and pull, feeling the drag of his dick deep inside you.

You’d never doubt your best friend again…

======

Sorry, just another thing i wanted to clear out of my drafts ;)

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #dc fanfic #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd imagine

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loveshotzz · 5 months

Text

We’re supposed to be eating breakfast

older!steve x fem!reader an AIRWIY oneshot

summary: You wake up after your first sleep over at Steve’s house feeling bold.

wc: 3.1k

warnings: 18+ older!steve, smut, p in v, cream pie, breeding kink, mentions of past drinking, reader is wearing Steve’s baseball jersey but it’s not really described how it fits on readers body, no real descriptions of readers body.

authors note: this took me over a month to write with everything going on in my personal life, so I’m excited to finally give it to you. thank you all for your patience and encouragement to keep coming back on here every day despite me not writing as much as I used to and to keep me opening my word docs. this one was spurred my @palmtreesx3 brilliant mind and an idea that’s haunted me day and night. This takes place in the All I Really Want Is You universe, but can be read as a stand alone. Just know you’re wearing Steve’s personalized cubs jersey. :)

The harsh sounds of the coffee grinder is what wakes you up, but the golden rays of morning sunshine that leaks through the cracks in the blinds is what gets your eyes to open. Slow soft blinks, with fluttering lashes and brain still fuzzy from the kind of sleep that makes you temporarily forget what year it is, you need a moment to recognize the unfamiliar, much nicer surroundings.

You were in Steve’s room.

A smile you can’t contain spreads wide across your face, butterfly wings tickling at your rib cage. Stretching your still sleeping limbs, your body melts into the soft cushions of his mattress. The feathers that fill his pillows contour to your head perfectly, and the memories of the ways he had you pressed into it resurface, skin igniting with the ghost of his hands on your curves. Biting your bottom lip, the kind of nerves that you haven’t had since the Fourth of July make themselves known again, having never spent a morning with him at his home.

Rolling over, your face hits the cotton of his pillowcase that you’re not surprised is cold. Shamelessly you inhale the cedar and spice that still lingers on it, and the faint ache between your thighs, along with the clinks of glass you hear from his sink, reminds you that he’s just down stairs. It takes a little bit of willpower to leave the cozy cocoon you’ve found yourself in but the need to see him over powers the comfort of his duvet that feels like just the right amount of weight against your body.

Shuffling out of the covers, your bare feet hit the cold hard wood of his floors, a shiver crawling up your spine that you tell yourself is from the chill of the winter air that seeps through his unsealed windows, definitely not your nerves catching a glimpse of your naked body in his dresser mirror. The same mirror you’d seen him in almost five months ago.

Padding across his bedroom you wonder if he can hear your steps as you search for any sign of your clothes that had been haphazardly thrown around after an old bottle of red wine. The clean white color of his jersey catches in your gaze, the blue bold lettering that spells out his last name has your thighs pressing at the memory of your second date as it sits folded on top of his dresser.

The thought of how good he looked with it stretched across his broad shoulders, and the top two buttons undone, teasing the chest hair that your nails dragged through last night makes your skin warm. The praises he whispered in hot merlot against your lips, your neck, and between your legs is what gives you the confidence you need to slip it on instead.

The stairs creak under each step, but the popping grease of the bacon that fills his house with the smell of maple lets you go undetected. Familiar voices of who you’re learning are sportscasters, spill out from the small speaker on his phone that you know is propped up on the little plastic holder he always sets it on when he charges it. He mumbles something in response to the commentary under his breath, and you hear the beeping of the oven telling him it’s finished preheating.

Your cheeks hurt from how high they push up when you realize Steve’s making you breakfast.

A little shy from his affections already, your fingers wrap around the wood frame of the entryway with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. With his back to you, it gives you a perfect view of the way his white cotton undershirt stretches tight over his shoulder blades that move with every flick of his wrist, forearms flexing as he whisks whatever is in the bowl in front of him. Black sweats sit low on his hips, giving you a glimpse of his boxer briefs underneath, the font across the top of his waist band says Burberry, making your palms sweat. A personal favorite pair.

He turns his head to look at a replay of a game he missed in favor of spending time with you on his phone screen, still completely unaware of your presence. The new angle reveals the silver glasses he wore a few weeks ago in his office, dark chestnut and peppered hair sticking out wild at the ends, a mess you know was made by your hands.

“Seriously? Keep him on the bench.” He grumbles, shaking his head before bringing his attention back to the bowl.

You watch him for a few seconds longer, but his butt jiggling with the force of his whisking makes a giggle slip past your lips blowing your cover. He jumps at the noise no matter how sweet it is, meeting your eyes from over his shoulder. Steve gives you a smile that you’re learning is only reserved for you and sometimes Eddie, punching the air out of your lungs. Watching the way it only continues to grow across his stubble covered face makes your heart swell even more.

It’s only when his gaze finally lands on the only thing you’re wearing that the gold shimmering inside his eyes darken, a starless night lingering where the bottom hem of his jersey sits at the very tops of your thighs.

“Jesus honey, look at you.” The metal whisk hits the glass of the bowl with a loud clink as he turns around to really drink you in, “good morning to me.”

“I hope this is okay,” your voice comes out smaller than intended, suddenly self conscious you might have overstepped despite the way he watches you take your first steps into the kitchen like he wants to eat you alive.

“Okay?” His huffs out a breath like he’s wrecked, long fingers coming up to scratch at his jaw, “I’m afraid you’re not allowed to wear anything else in my house ever again.”

You giggle again, and you swear you hear him groan because of it.

“I think we might be able to arrange something, a deal, an agreement of some sort.” you smirk, tapping your nails along the smooth black marble of his kitchen island, giving your hips a little extra sway with your slow steps.

Both his palms curve around the counter behind him as he leans back, chest puffing while he licks his full pink lips. They pull up into a lopsided grin, a hungry gaze roaming freely as you come to a stop right in front of him. His confidence only falters a little when he has to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, but the gesture only makes your heart swell especially when the tops of his ears redden.

You lean against the island with a smile that tells him you’re up to no good. Heat from the oven and the man across from you warms your legs against the chill that bounces off all the glass and stone in his kitchen. Electricity sparks in the space between your bodies making the tips of your fingers and toes buzz, your pulse jumping when he reaches a big hand out for you.

“Just a little bit too far for me still baby,” He wiggles his fingers at you making you smile shyly before you slip your hand into his palm, your eyes glaze over watching it disappear in his grasp.

His gentle tug makes you squeal, hitting his chest with a soft thump, he grins down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Wrapping an arm around you to keep you from leaving, he lets go of your hand to cup the side of your face. The pad of his thumb traces the length of your cheek bone, and he smells just his pillow. Your hands find themselves tangled into the cotton of his shirt, leaning deeper into his touch. It makes the playfulness that dances in the chestnut of his eyes turn soft with something lovesick.

“Good morning handsome,” you say in a content sigh, and the hand that's spread across your back starts to work a path up your spine pulling the fabric of his jersey with it.

“I could really get used to this you know,” He hums, dipping his head down so the tip of his nose runs up the length of yours, mint and coffee on his breath “waking up to you.”

Your stomach flips at his words, all the blood rushing to your cheeks when you feel the cool breeze hit where your underwear should be.

“Oh yeah? What about Bandit?” You tease leaning closer, letting your top lip catch his bottom one.

Steve snorts a little, reminded of his dog who he knows is soaking up the sun outside, and the palm on your back squeezes you even closer.

“Are you kidding me? We’re obsessed with you over here honey.” The whites of his teeth show a little before they nip at your pout. He takes advantage of the gasp he earns, closing the gap completely in the kind of kiss that doesn’t give you any time to catch your breath before he’s licking at your bottom lip.

Your fingers untangle themselves from his shirt, and find a new home to get lost in the locks at the nap of his neck. Tongues meet in the middle with eager enthusiasm, and your front teeth hit as you push up on your tippy toes on the search for more. A deep groan vibrates from his chest, and his palm starts working its way down the dip of your back. When he’s met with the bare swell of your ass as he reaches the bottom hem of his jersey, you feel him kick up in his sweatpants.

“Tough girl.” He says your nickname like he's scolding you, leaving open mouthed kisses up your jaw, nipping at your earlobe before whispering with the kind of gravel in his voice that makes the inside of your thighs sticky. “We’re supposed to be eating breakfast.”

You hardly register him turning the oven off beside you.

“Who says -“ your sentence is cut off by a gasp when two thick fingers trace up your slick lips with ease, the pads of them pressing down on your bundle of nerves just long enough to make you whine with shaky knees.

“Who says what huh?” He whispers against the sensitive spot behind your ear, rubbing small circles on your clit with pointed pressure, obsessed with the way your jaw goes slack, and your eyebrows pinch together because of it.

“Who says we can’t do both?” You manage to get out with fluttering lashes, as he spreads you apart.

“You’re right, I don’t think breakfast is gonna be sweet enough for me.” He tuts, letting his middle finger push just a knuckle into your already greedy walls, and the soft moan that he gets from you has him leaking in his sweats. “You gonna help me with that, honey?”

Too lost in his teasing all you manage is a nod and a breathy ‘mmhmm’ looking up at him with big glassy eyes. He lets his lips ghost over yours, with a smirk tugging at the corners of them before spinning you around. Your palms land back on the cool marble of the kitchen island while both his hands wrap themselves firmly around the soft dough of your hips keeping his Jersey rucked up with them. He pulls your ass flush with his hips, letting you feel the hard length of him that begs to be released from the fleece confines of his pants against the ache in your core.

“This is what you wanted when you came down here lookin’ like this huh?” He asks with a low voice, hooking his thumbs under the bottom of his jersey. Lifting it higher up your back, he grinds against you while his eyes drink in all the soft dips of all your curves.

“Maybe,” you giggle a little breathy looking back over your shoulder at him with half lidded eyes.

His smile steals all the warm light from the room as he looks down at you with a cocked brow.

“I was trying to wait till after breakfast, which was hard waking up to you naked in my bed.” He can’t stop his heavy gaze from wandering to his last name covering the top of your back, unlocking something primal and possessive inside of him that he thought he’d lost forever. He wants you to leave it on, he’ll get it dry cleaned. “But honey, I can’t keep my hands off of you lookin’ like this.”

His palm feels heavy as it slides over the curve of your ass, squeezing at the fat with strong fingers spreading you apart a little before shoving his sweatpants half way down his hairy thighs. With hot cheeks, you flutter around nothing when the thickness of his cock springs free, standing at attention just for you. Somersaults in your stomach as you watch his tight grip pump himself a few times. Your hips wiggle in anticipation, whining when he teases more, gliding his tip through your slick, a small moan spilling from between your lips when he catches your clit.

“Always so needy for me,” he groans with a hint of disbelief, “fuck, what’d I do to deserve you?”

Steve doesn’t waste anymore time, slowly pushing in and the feeling of your walls wrapping around him while your body tries to accommodate the stretch has him chanting your name under his breath. Half way in, he regrips your hips a little rougher than before. His cock twitches watching your back bow, making his last name shine against the light while your nails scratch at the cool marble when he bottoms out.

Legs shaking, still sensitive from the night before, his hold on you tightens. You keen at the feeling of his thumbs rubbing small circles into your soft skin giving you time to adjust. It doesn’t take long for the initial sting subside, giving you the strength to rock your hips a little, a breathy sigh escaping you when it feels good.

“Yeah?” He hums, meeting your hips with his own hitting that spot that makes your toes curl.

“Uh huh” You manage to utter as he pulls almost all the way out, a moan of his name long and drawn out bounces off the walls when he pushes back in letting you feel every inch.

“That’s my girl,” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and it makes you want to turn around and see it.

Your eyes meet from over your shoulder again as he starts to roll his hips, finding the perfect pace. The sound of skin slapping fills the quiet space between moans every time your ass jiggles from the force of it. That strand falls messily over his forehead when he looks down at you, brows pinching together and jaw going slack like seeing your face only intensified everything he was feeling. He holds your stare, and the snap of his hips starts to get rougher. Burying himself deep focusing on that spot, the one he’s only ever been able to find.

“Oh, oh- Steve. Right there -shit - oh my god.” Your head falls between your shoulders, when he starts to barely pull out anymore. The tip of him making your eyelashes flutter as he reaches the spot that had you screaming his name last night, over and over again.

His eyes wander the expanse of your back, keeping his pace while his hands slowly start to slide up your sides, pushing his jersey with it. He wants to see more of you, but his hips stutter hearing the noises he’s getting out of you with his last name plastered across your hunched shoulders.

“You look so good - shiiit, like this baby. My name on your back, letting me bend you over in my kitchen while I cook you breakfast.” He babbles as your walls start to flutter, already dangerously close to falling over the ledge, your body threatening to take him with you. “Wanna do this all the time, please, let me do this all the time, honey.”

“Whatever, whatever you want. I’ll do whatever you want, I’m - oh fuck, I’m yours.” Your words break off in a moan when he starts to circle his hips at the same time you push yours back and he holds you there, repeating the motion.

“Yeah? You’re mine?” Steve grunts, cock twitching at the thought of filling you up, and for the first time in over a decade he feels the need to mark what’s his in the most primal way he knows. The thought of you round with his kid brings a new kind of intensity to the way he starts to fuck you, and he knows he’s not going to last much longer. “Tell me again.”

“Mmmhmm, always yours.” You whine, feeling yourself reaching the edge. Steve leans forward, somehow going deeper. Long thick fingers find their way between your thighs, where the two of you connect and he starts rubbing messy circles on your clit, pushing you off the cliff.

You flutter and squeeze around him hard enough to almost push him out, but he continues rutting his hips fighting against it, white spots explode behind your lids, his name falling out of your mouth broken in a gasp and a shudder.

“That’s it, fuck, that’s it.” He groans, watching the way your forehead hits the cold marble with another tremor that makes his cock twitch. “Gonna cum baby, let me cum inside, need it, please.”

He can make out the nod of your head, and with the little strength you have left, you push yourself further back encouraging him more. He knows you're on the pill, he’s seen you take it, but right now in the heat of it all, a small part of him hopes you missed a day. He blames the blue letters on his Jersey staring him right in the face, or the way you coat his cock with the remains of what he did to you every time you suck him right back in.

He pushes himself deep enough to make you fall forward a little, a low groan rumbling deep from his chest as he spills hot inside of you the rock of his hips slowing down as he falls apart. His forehead hits your back, with one last lazy thrust, and you can feel the heat of his breath as he pants to catch his breath. You wish the fabric of his jersey wasn’t so thick when he plants a kiss between your shoulder blades, before slowly pulling himself back up.

“Yeah, it’s official. This is absolutely the only thing you’re allowed to wear here.”

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