#Night's Candles are Burnt Out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hyunsvngs · 4 months

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hyunsvngbinimas !

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

warnings: reader is a cat hybrid, perv!minho, heats, slick, kind of omegaverse but not, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, depictions of porn

Nothing is going right.

Minho’s apartment smells of those cliche candles that just reek of Christmas - spiced cinnamon apple strudel, or something like it. He’s burnt his cookies. His hair is covered in white sugary flakes that he’d tried to make snow for his gingerbread house with, and they’re currently melting into his hair from how stressed out he’s getting. Felix will be here any second. He’s freaking out. Felix always judges his baking.

He sighs, scraping the burnt remnants of his baking endeavours into the bin. Felix will have to be happy with just the gingerbread house. Anyway, Minho got him an amazing present for Christmas - a new headset for his gaming setup that had little holes for his white fluffy cat ears to peek through.

Being best friends with a hybrid wasn’t easy for Minho. Unfortunately, Minho had some weird affinity for cat girls and boys alike, and his computer was decked out with mountains of hybrid heat porn that would make even Felix’s weird friend Jisung stutter. Minho had gotten drunk one night and opened up to Felix about it, and had received an overly wet kiss on a cheek and a sweet chirp of “I’ll fuck you whenever, hyung”. Minho still blushes to the tips of his ears when he remembers it.

Felix’s hybrid status isn’t the only reason he’s reserved as Minho’s lifelong best friend. Felix is devious, weird, and a little bit evil just like Minho - he’s also always late, which really means a lot to Minho when he’s stressing out like this.

True to his nature, there’s a loud knock on the door approximately fifteen minutes after the meeting time after Minho had just put the baking tray of newer, more promising cookies into the oven. Minho throws his oven gloves to the side and then he’s charging over to the door to swing it open, ready to give Felix a fake lecture about being late to their designated day for exchanging presents.

Only, when the door opens, Felix isn’t alone. He’s standing on Minho’s doorstep with a wild smile on his face, a beanie pulled over his ears and his white tail swishing in excitement. Next to him is you.

And you’re, well, you. You’re a cat hybrid, too, sans-beanie and baring your orange ears for the world to see. You have a matching smile on your face, and Minho can’t help but fight his own smile back. It’s that contagious. Your fluffy winter dress is swaying around your mid-thigh, and when you turn to stop your suitcase from falling in the snow, your tail curls in annoyance.

Wait. You have a suitcase.

“Yongbok-ah,” Minho starts, his apron covered in flour. His apron is covered in flour. He’s a mess, and the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen is standing on his doorstep with a cute little dress on. He wonders if you’d let him flip it up and stretch your pussy open with his thick- no. He clears his throat, repeats Felix’s Korean name once again. “Yongbok-ah. What is this?”

“Your new roommate!” Felix beams, his smile stretching from ear-to-ear. Minho contemplates how he can kill him. “She was looking for somewhere to stay. Her landlord just kicked her out over Christmas, hyung, isn’t that so sad? Anyway, I remembered you saying you wouldn’t mind someone moving in to help with rent, so-”

“I work!” You blurt, cheeks sufficiently rosy pink and your bottom lip looking so biteable. Minho mentally chastises himself. He needs to behave. “I can pay rent, and Felix said you’d like me.”

Oh, he did, did he? Minho manages to drag his eyes away from you to stare menacingly at Felix, who only nods in agreement and smiles. Minho sighs, eyes flickering behind him. How quick can he do a deep clean of the house so that you think he’s perfect and amazing and maybe want to be with him? “I do have a spare bedroom.”

“Great!” Felix chirps. His eyes flicker between you and Minho. You haven’t taken your eyes off of him, tail swishing around your back excitedly. It’s orange with faint stripes in it, and Minho’s trying not to get hard in his pants over the way you’re grinning at him. Felix claps his hands together, gloved and muffled. “So, I’ve got to go now. Bye, hyung!”

“Y-Yongbok,” Minho blurts. Did he really just stutter? “What about your present?”

“Oh, give it to me another day,” Yongbok waves him off, already turning down the drive.

Minho scoffs. “What about my present, you little-”

Yongbok turns around. “She is your present, hyung. Silly.”

Minho reverts his eyes to you. He can feel how he’s widening them in shock, his bottom lip quivering. He wants to say something. He wants to talk to you, but how can he? You’re looking at him so expectantly and your dress has damn pom poms on it. He’s going to die. “Uh. D’ya wanna come in? I have cookies in the oven.”

“Great!” You say, and Minho’s convinced your voice is exactly how angels sound. You shimmy past him with your suitcase and leave it in the doorway, sashaying into the living room as if you’ve been there a million times. He watches you sprawl on the sofa in awe, stretching languidly. If he squints, he might be able to see the panties you’ve got on underneath your dress. “I love cookies.”

“Uh, yeah,” Minho says intelligently, kicking the door shut. He’s quick to follow you despite still being in his apron and having white specks in his dark hair. He tries to sit down casually on the sofa, and you gravitate towards his body heat, curling up beside him. “Have you had a roommate before?”

“A roommate?” You perk up, looking at him. Minho thinks he’s going to die. He’s definitely hard now, and he’s glad the apron is loose enough to cover it. You blink, and then you nod. “I guess so. In college, I stayed with a bunny girl. She was super sweet.”

A bunny girl? You two… lived together? Minho’s heart has stopped beating, officially. Maybe you’re still close friends. Maybe you can bring her over, when one or both of you are in your heats, and maybe you’ll let him watch if you-

Oh, Minho’s so fucked.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re so fucked.

When Felix said his friend Minho had mentioned wanting a roommate, you hadn’t expected him to be so sexy. Even standing on his doorstep with an apron covered in flour and a timid expression on his face, he was sexy. He’d shown you to the spare bedroom, nice as pie, and had waited while you got settled in to comfier clothes before getting on the couch with him. You couldn’t stop your tail from swishing when he fed you a cookie, warm from the oven, and you’d been looking at him with round, owlish eyes. He has to know. You’re wondering how much you can put down to kitty tendencies just to get closer to him.

“Can we cuddle?” You chirp, and Minho turns to you. He blinks, lips parted. His eyes are so dark, so round. “You know, kitty tendencies. I like the warmth. If it makes you uncomfortable, that’s okay-”

“No,” He shakes his head, patting his lap. “C’mere, kitty- sorry, God, can I call you that? Is that okay?”

You giggle, curling up in his lap. Your tail curls around his arm comfortably, and Minho chokes back a noise. You wonder if he’s alright. “Kitty is fine. I like it.”

Minho lets out a stuttered breath. “O-Okay, so- how do you want to do this? I can cook for us, if you wanna clean?” He shakes his head. You feel his body tense up from beneath you. His thighs are so broad and muscled you can’t help but nuzzle your nose into one. You’re purring before you even realise you are. “Actually, no. Don’t clean.”

“I can clean!” You insist, but he’s already protesting again.

“No, kitty. Please don’t. Please don’t clean.”

Why not? You screw your face up in a pout, but you can’t help but feel the most comfortable you’d ever felt. It feels domestic, almost, the way you’re curled up on his lap and he’s just letting you. He’s warm. He’s warm and toned, and you flip over to look up at him. God, he’s pretty - sharp nose, pouty lips, the cutest bunny teeth that would have you swearing he had to be a hybrid too if you hadn’t seen his human ears. You want him.

Minho looks down at you then, a smile playing on his lips. “Why are you staring at me, kitty cat?”

You blush, shaking your head. “No reason. Hey, do you wanna watch a movie? I’m not moving though.”

“Of course,” Minho chuckles, his shoulders shaking. You watch as he reaches over you to grab the remote, flicking through channels until he finds a decent Christmas one. He looks at you, almost hesitant with his spare hand raised above your hair. “I- Felix likes when I scratch his ears. Do you- would you-”

“Yes, please,” You nod eagerly, and he snickers at your response. His hand threads into your hair, fingertips rubbing absentmindedly at the start of your orange ears, and you purr. It makes him tense up again.

When you finally turn over to pay attention to the movie, it’s some stupid film about two people finding love at Christmas. You can’t help but hope you have a similar experience, and you definitely wouldn’t be disappointed if it happened with the man who’s currently stroking over your ears and humming a soft tune. It feels too easy with him, too natural, but you’re not one to complain.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re panicking. You’ve been living with Minho for a week now, and between him doing absolutely everything around the house and refusing to let you pay rent - for what reason you’re unsure - you’re determined to get him a good gift for Christmas. Christmas is only in a few days, and you just can’t find anything perfect scrolling through your laptop. You have goosebumps on your arms from how cold you are, but you’re so focused you can’t put an extra layer on.

You’re convinced you’re hallucinating when the screen freezes, turns blue, and crashes. What? You bang on the keyboard with clenched fists, ears flattening in annoyance. What’s going on? Has it… broken? No way. No way would this happen to you, not during the most important time of your life. You had to get Minho a good gift.

He’s sat on the sofa scrolling through his phone when you perk your head around the doorway - or perk your tail around, since that’s the first thing Minho sees. He grins, turning to you. God, his grin makes your stomach flutter.

“What’s up, kitty cat?” He muses, and you grimace.

“I- I was doing… something on my laptop, and I think it’s broken,” You say, voice quiet. Despite getting so close to Minho in the week you’ve been there, including even taking naps together on the sofa, you still can’t push past your silly little crush on him. Especially not when he scratches under your chin and feeds you cookies. “Nothing weird. I just- could I use yours? Just for an hour or two, and then you can have it back, and-”

“Of course you can,” Minho cuts you off. You try not to stare at his biceps as he leans over to grab his laptop, white t-shirt clenching tight around his muscles. You suppress a whimper as he hands it to you, and then you’re scurrying back to your room with a delighted squeal.

The sheets are soft on your legs as you make yourself comfortable again, and then you open the laptop. It has no password, which is just so Minho, and is covered in cat stickers. He must really like cats. The thought makes your tail curl in delight, and you try to calm your excitement as the laptop boots up.

Immediately, you take notice of the fact that his laptop is definitely a newer, more expensive model than yours. It makes you shy, embarrassed that you’re not paying rent to live in his house and still can’t even get a good laptop, but then you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. He has around ten files, labelled nothing other than numbers 1-10, and they’re neatly organised in a row across the screen.

Before you can even process what you’re doing, you’re clicking on the first one. You gasp, hand covering your mouth. You’re snooping. Maybe… maybe the files will help you learn what stuff he’s into, what kind of things he’d love for Christmas? Yeah. That’s why you’re looking. Definitely no other reason.

The first file has ten files inside it, all video files that are just begging for you to double click on. Could you watch them? Could you be nosy like this? Does that make you an awful person? You realise that yeah, you must be an awful person because you’re going to watch them. You’re going to watch every single one just to find out what they could be.

You don’t expect to be met with a cat hybrid being bent over a desk. She’s a girl, noted from the way the man’s speaking to her, and her slick is gushing around his cock. Your eyes widen, comically round, yet you can’t tear them away. Her tail curls around his waist, keeping him close, and her eyes roll back into her head. The camera is positioned to the side but it captures every single expression she’s making.

Is this what Minho’s into? Is he… into you? Would he fuck you like this, would he talk to you like this?

You’re clicking on the second video before you can even think of it. This one is recorded by the male, camera positioned to capture the cat girl’s tits as they sway and bounce enticingly. You want Minho to record you while you ride him like this. You wipe sweat off of your brow. She’s pretty, with blushing cheeks and ears flattened to her head as she moans in ecstasy. His pubic hair is drenched with her slick. You whimper. You want it. You want it with Minho.

He must jerk off to these, you decide, clicking on the third video. This one’s a little different - the girl is on her knees, slobbering and spitting all over a rather large cock. Is Minho that big? It’d be perfect to breed you, he could hit your cervix like that. You wipe drool off of your bottom lip. It’s suddenly very, very warm, and you feel like you can’t breathe. Imagining Minho’s cock is sending your senses into haywire, your whole body feeling like it’s been ignited with fire and electricity and-

“Kitty,” A voice from your door. You perk up. You’d left it open, just slightly ajar, and Minho is standing there with wide doe eyes. “Oh, no. You’ve seen them. I’m so sorry, if you want to move out I understand and I- kitty?”

You’re panting. Your eyes are glassy, covered in unshed tears, and your t-shirt suddenly feels like it’s stuck to you. Weren’t you just cold? You can’t remember. Your senses are full of Minho, Minho, Minho, and you want him to fuck you under the Christmas tree or bend you over the sofa or his desk or just take you on the floor, you aren’t picky.

“Minho,” You finally speak, chest heaving. “Minho, Minho, you- you- you like these? You- Minho, please, do you like these videos?”

He’s slow walking over to your bed, almost anxious to approach you. He sighs when he reaches the foot of the mattress, climbing onto it to sit cross-legged. He twiddles his thumbs. “Yeah. It turns me on. Yongbok- Felix said I have a kink for it. I’m sorry.”

“S-Sorry?” It’s so warm. It’s so warm. “Minho, Minho, I- I’m really warm. Are you warm? It’s really warm in my room, isn’t it?”

Minho’s eyebrows furrow. He reaches over, placing the back of his hand to your forehead, and you whine. Loudly. Just him touching your forehead with the back of his hand is enough to make your pussy drool slick into your sleep shorts, and you can’t even begin to question why you’re suddenly so wet, until Minho speaks. “Oh, kitty,” He coos, his hand moving up to scratch your ear. You hum, leaning into the touch. Your vision is blurry, but you can see him perfectly. “Oh, my girl. I’m so sorry. I think you’re going into heat, kitty. I’ll call Yongbok, and-”

“No,” You wail, surging forward. The laptop slides off the side of the bed with a loud clatter, and Minho doesn’t even blink, staring owlishly at you as you wrap your arms around his middle. You’re in heat. You can tell when his body hits yours, your pussy gushing and making even more of a mess just from his body, despite being clothed. “No. God, please, Minho, don’t leave. It’s you, I want you, I was thinking about you and me, and the videos, and-”

“You want me?” Minho’s voice is soft, and he swipes a thumb over your cheekbone. Your head is positioned on his chest, and you can smell him, earthy and woodsy and manly. He sighs, and then he’s speaking again. “I want you.”

“Please. Please, please, please, please, I need you, I need to see it, I need to feel you,” You’re babbling, sweat dripping down your temple, and Minho lets out an amused puff of air. “I- Minho, is- do you want to? Please.”

“You need to see it?” He chuckles, shoulders shaking. His eyes form crescent moons and you can’t even admire how cute he is through your haze of lust. “What’s it, kitty cat? My dick?” You nod eagerly, and Minho shakes his head in disbelief. “I want to kiss you first. Let me do it right, yeah? Let me do it how I want to. I need to treat you right.”

You’re still shocked when his lips press into yours, pouty and plush. He licks into your mouth and you have to avoid nipping at his bottom lip, until he does it to you and you deem it fair game. You’re devouring him then, nibbling on his lip and sucking on his tongue and encompassing your arms around his neck. He lets you push him into the mattress, lets you run your hands through his hair and pull away to nip at his neck teasingly.

“Kitty likes to bite, huh?” He huffs, and you nod, nipping him again for his cheek. Your tail swishes behind you, excited and playful, and you can feel how hard he is against your leg. “Better not bite like that when you suck my cock.”

You pull away from his neck in alarm, the milky skin littered in teeth marks and red bruises. “I can suck it? You’ll let me? Oh, please-”

His hand envelops in your hair, wrapping your hair around his fist and tugging hard. “Maybe later. I can feel how that pussy is drooling on me. You need it badly, huh? Need me badly.”

“Yes! Yes, yeah, since I saw you, I- I wanted you to fuck me through my heat so bad, pin me to the bed and just make me take it, and when I saw the videos I- Minho, I thought I was gonna die, and-”

Minho flips you over onto the mattress, your front planted against the bed. You let out a satisfied purr when he strokes your tail with one hand, and then he’s hooking his thumbs into your sleep shorts and yanking them down your legs. You feel the cold air hit your pussy and you moan, loud and high pitched, spreading your thighs to arch your back and present your pussy to him.

“Oh, would you look at that?” Minho coos, his thumb swiping over your hole. Your hole clenches with the lack of fullness, oozing more slick over his digit, and he groans. “Messy little pussy. God, do you want me inside you that bad? Little minx.”

“Please, please. Minho, Minho, will you fuck me? Look’it,” You whine, spreading your legs further. “Look at how wet I am. I need you, need you. M-master, please.”

Minho hisses through his teeth, and then his cockhead is pressing between your folds. When did he get naked? “You dirty little thing,” He whispers, his voice low. “Take master’s cock, then. You wanted to see it, how’s about feeling it?”

He sinks into you, all of his shaft in one go. It doesn’t hurt, only stretches you beyond pleasure, and your fingernails rip into the sheets with one loud moan. It feels insane, raw and veiny and pressing against your walls as if he was made for you. You let him grip your hips and arch you further, your tail wrapping around his waist to keep him close to you. It’s like the first video you saw, and the realisation has you whimpering into the sheets.

“God, you don’t know how long I thought about you like this,” Minho grunts, and then he’s thrusting. His pace is punishing immediately, your slick gushing and squelching around his cock messily and you can only hope his pubes are drenched in it. You want him to cum inside you, breed you, fill you up with kittens and mark you as his so that everyone knows. “Pliant, wet and so desperate for me.”

“Love it,” You slur, eyes rolling back into your head. You don’t realise you’re bouncing back on his thrusts, ass hitting the bottom of his tummy with every movement. He’s bent fully over your body, chest against your back and his lips whispering filth into your ear. “Love your cock, master, ‘s so big, I feel so full, I- hnnfg, master, master, will you breed me? Will you cum inside me?”

“Oh, kitty cat,” He moans, passionate, and when you try to look at him his eyes are rolling back into his head. His bunny teeth bite his bottom lip, almost drawing blood. His cockhead fucks against your cervix with every thrust, primal and intense. He wraps his arms around your front, hands clutching onto your shoulders to pull you back into him. “I’ll breed you, jagi. I’ll fuck you full until it has to take, yeah?”

You can’t think straight. Your pussy clenches around Minho’s cock almost painfully and it only makes him feel bigger, pulsing and throbbing inside of you. You need his cum. You need to cum - your clit throbs painfully with it. “Oh, oh, I need’a- master, master, I need to cum, I need to cum, please, hurts,” You huff, squirming beneath him. He reaches from your shoulder to pin your hips down into the bed, ensuring that you can’t thrash or wriggle anymore and he has full leverage to fuck you the way you need it. “It hurts! Ah, it hurts, I can’t, I can’t, I need to cum, I need to-”

“What’s stopping you?” He questions, hips starting to fuck you in a sinuous grind instead. The change in pace has your toes curling, hands scrabbling to find a better grip on the sheets as he lets you feel every inch and every vein of his length. “C’mon. Cum around my cock, and I’ll give you my cum, breed you full of kittens. Give it to me, jagi, c’mon, let me feel it.”

With a wail and a sharp inhale of breath, you’re cumming quicker than you ever have with any partner or even your own hand. Your pussy pulsates and gushes around him, and he grunts through your orgasm, trying with all of his might to fuck you through it. You try to thrash, to grind back on him through it, but he has you pinned down with a vice grip that only proves to make you cum even harder.

Minho’s hips press tightly against yours, and with a deep sigh, you feel his cum flood inside of you. You’re purring with the sensation of it, warm and thick and reaching your cervix with every messy pulsation of his load. You hope it takes, deep down inside you - you hope you’re swollen with it, that everyone knows he’s yours and you’re his.

With the knowledge that you’re full of cum, your heat is slightly sated, and you blink through the fog while Minho sidles up next to you. When did he pull out? You huff and cuddle into his chest, and he reaches up instinctively to scratch over your ears.

“Good?” He questions, voice timid. You blink owlishly.

“Good?!” You shriek, lifting your head up to stare at him. “I’m enlisting you for the rest of my heat, and then every day after that. You’re mine now.”

Minho chuckles. “I think that’s the best Christmas present I’ve ever been given.”

“Well, I was actually looking for something to get you when my laptop broke,” You say shyly, and Minho turns to look at you with a wide smile on his face. “It’s embarrassing! Just have me instead.”

“I think I’m okay with that,” He yawns, eyes fluttering shut. “Nap. You’re gonna need to be fucked again soon.”

You wondered how he knew, then you remembered the videos on his computer. “That’s true. Merry early Christmas, Minho.”

“Merry early Christmas, kitty cat.”

#hyunsvngbinimas!#juno's fics ♡#lee minho smut #lee know smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #lee minho x reader #lee minho fanfiction

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ghostlywhiskey · 4 months

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lumberjack!price who lets you stay in his cabin after he finds you on the side of the road in your broken down car. insists that you come stay at his house for the remainder of the day into the morning since it's getting dark out and the weather forecast is saying it might snow - last thing he wants is for you to be stranded without a place to stay while the car sits in a repair shop. and doesn't want a 'pretty thing' like yourself staying alone in a motel.

lumberjack!price who tows your car to the local mechanic he knows before the two of you head back to his cabin for the night. tells the local mechanic, simon, who you find out is one of his friends, that he'll cover the cost of whatever is wrong with it and to try to make it a priority. and despite your protests, he tells you not to worry about it and that simon owes him anyway so the cost won't be too bad. what you don't know is that he texted simon later that night to take as long as possible fixing up your car.

lumberjack!price who doesn't alarm you at all despite being a complete stranger. he's hospitable, kind and attentive to you when you both arrive back at his home. the wood and pine smell comforting, reminding you of christmas candle scent when you enter. shows you to the guest room and grabs you a change of clothes, but apologizes for the only option being large sweatpants or plaid pajama pants and an worn tshirt of his. 'pretty much a bachelor pad if you can't tell,' he jokes and you tell him it's no problem at all. offers to make dinner while you make yourself comfortable and have a chance to wash up. has the fireplace going when you reemerge from a shower with wet hair dripping, parts of his worn tshirt clinging to your chest from the damp fabric. swears under his breath slightly at the sight of you, but you don't question it as he covers it up quickly by pretending he burnt himself sightly while cooking.

lumberjack!price who chuckled when you begged to clean up after dinner as it was the least you could do after all his help today. and this time, the sight of him after his own shower causing you to fumble some of the utensils in the sink, soap suds your excuse for the slippery silverware that clanks against the glass plates. his large frame mostly covered in body hair while his own pajama pants hang slightly low, a darkened area of hair creating an obviously happy trail. his belly slightly protruding, but firm nonetheless. or at least that is what you think if you were to touch it. nervous 'no, no. it's okay.' leaving your lips as you subside his worry that him being shirtless is making you uncomfortable, explaining it's just a habit since it's normally just him around.

#john price #john price x you #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price #lumberjack!price #these are my thoughts #i have more thoughts #anyway #nic talks price

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awfcspencer · 2 months

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Anniversary Night || leah williamson x reader

prompt: Leah wouldn’t forget your anniversary right?

warnings: angst

a/n: this spent so long in the drafts so I figured I'd post it

Every second that passed felt like an hour. The sun had been high in the sky when you began baking the chocolate cake for tonight, but now the sun had dipped below the horizon, and it was beginning to get late.

The extravagant dinner you had spent hours watching tutorials on and carefully following the recipe to its exact details had gone cold. It was Leah’s favorite dish her mother used to make during her childhood, and you enlisted Amanda’s help to properly prepare the dish for your third anniversary with the blonde tonight. She guided you through each step and even went alongside you to the market to get the ingredients. It sat untouched in the middle of the table that you decorated with tiny hearts and rose petals.

The candles you lit minutes before Leah was supposed to arrive had burnt out and the flowers you had set on the table were lacking water as the night grew on. The vinyl you had put on in the background had long ended and left your shared home silent. It was quiet and you were alone.

The time you had spent perfecting your makeup and slipping into a tight black dress that you had been hiding in the back of your shared closet just for tonight was now a waste. The time you had spent decorating the kitchen and bedroom was now all for nothing seeming as it was entering midnight, and it would no longer be the special day. The time you spent using the icing bag to carefully etch ‘Happy Anniversary’ into Leah’s favorite kind of cake was useless. You would never get that time back.

You had tried to ring Leah several times throughout the night, desperately wondering when she was due to return home from training after she did not walk through your shared home at the normal time. Each time you called her it went to voicemail. As each hour ticked by, your smile seemed to fade and your patience began to wither, but most importantly, your heart was shattered. What was initially supposed to be a romantic evening had ended up a big disappointment and the hope of spending time with Leah had disappeared. On the fourth time you tried to reach Leah and were met with her voicemail once again sent your phone crashing into the nearest wall.

You weren’t woken up exactly as the clock striked midnight and showered with kisses like the first anniversary.

You weren’t given breakfast in bed and spent the day in Leah’s warm embrace until the middle of the afternoon like the second anniversary.

Instead you woke up to a cold, empty bed. Not a single text or note from Leah. Not even a kiss goodbye and a promise to return home soon.

Something in your brain allowed you to brush it off though. That should have been your first red flag. Leah always made you feel the most special girl in the world, surely she couldn’t have forgotten such an important day.

Three years ago, Leah had asked you to be her girlfriend after several small dates and continuous messaging. You met the blonde in a low-key bar just on the outskirts of North London and she quickly captured your heart with her charming and compassionate personality. Today marked three years of loving Leah and three years of Leah loving you.

So instead of dwelling in the fact the morning hadn’t been exactly what you pictured, you were sure that Leah would make up for it in the night.

You knew that Leah had thrown herself into hours of rehabilitation and countless physio meetings to help her desperate bid to return to the pitch. Sitting out during Arsenal games and being dropped from the England squad had taken a great toll on the defender. You supported her every step of the way, even when it meant she did not return home until late and left before you awoke the next day. But you figured she would be home on time tonight. You figured she would be home on a special occasion like tonight. But unfortunately, you were incredibly wrong.

You quickly place the uneaten food and cake in the fridge to hopefully preserve them so you could possibly eat them tomorrow. You were met with the mini calendar that was located on the fridge to remind you and Leah of appointment, matches, or meetings. The single date had been outlined in a large red heart since entering the month. You wanted to rip the whole thing off the fridge and tear it in a million pieces, as a way to represent how your heart felt.

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you struggled to make sense of it all. How could she have forgotten? How could she have let something so important slip through the cracks of her mind? Tears fell from your eyes non-stop, ruining the pretty mascara you had done as it ran down the sides of your cheeks. With just a few minutes until midnight, you couldn’t help prevent your heart from feeling hurt, especially when it was still radio silent from Leah.

You wanted the black dress off. You wanted to take the makeup off. You wanted to tear down every decoration you had put up and throw it in the trash. Instead settling with a quick shower that did not aid in your severed heart and clouded brain. When the time came to enter your shared bed, you couldn’t bring yourself to be suffocated with the defender’s magnetic scent and the thought that she was out somewhere on your anniversary instead of with you. You snatched the comforter off and a pillow and slept on the couch.

---

After another grueling day of rehabilitation followed by a team night out to celebrate the upcoming matches, Leah’s muscles and body ached with exhaustion. But as Leah stepped through the door of your shared home, her heart sank like a stone as she caught sight of the large ‘Happy Anniversary’ banner and the countless related decorations scattered around the house. The worst image of all was you sound asleep on the couch with red puffy eyes.

Today was supposed to be a special day and Leah had forgotten all about it. You heard her enter the home nearly a quarter till 2 A.M. Your anniversary was long over. She seemed tired, most likely from how hard she had been pushing herself in the gym and in training. All that work to get back onto the pitch, to get off the sidelines, not knowing she was sidelining something else, the relationship you thought she valued as much as you did.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” you finally spoke, your voice hardly above a whisper but filled with accusation. You couldn’t meet the defender’s eyes, the hurt in your heart didn’t allow it.

Leah’s head snapped up, guilt flashing across her features before she could mask it. Leah sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair, “I’ve been so busy with rehab and training… I guess it slipped my mind,” she admitted, her voice barely audible at the guilt she felt inside.

“Slipped your mind? Slipped. Your. Mind.” You couldn’t help but laugh.

A wave of hurt washed over you as you struggled to hold back tears. “I can’t believe you forgot our anniversary,” you whispered, feeling a lump form in your throat. You couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness that gnawed at your heart.

Leah reached out tentatively, her hand hovering in the air before she pulled back, as if she was unsure whether she was welcome to touch you. “I’m sorry, I really am,” she said softly, her eyes pleading for forgiveness.

“It’s not just about today,” you choked out, your voice trembling with pent-up emotions. “It’s about feeling like I am not a priority in your life anymore.” She had been so focused on getting back on the pitch that she cut you so deeply in the process. How could she forget?

Leah’s shoulders slumped, her heart aching at the pain she had caused you. “You are a priority, you always have been,” she insisted, her voice think with emotion and guilt. “I’ve just been so focused on rehab. I didn’t realize how much it was affecting us.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked at her, torn between wanting to forgive her and wanting her to understand just how much she had hurt you. “I miss us,” you admitted. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, but you couldn’t bring yourself to soften your face at the excuses she continued to usher out.

Leah’s heart clenched at your words, a pang of regret coursing through her. “I miss us too. I promise I’ll make it up to you, I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this.” Anger bubbled up inside you, fueled by the recent weeks of feeling neglected and ignored.

You nodded slowly, feeling a glimmer of hope flicker within in. “I want to believe you, really I do. But what about me? What about what I need?”

Leah’s gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet your eyes. “I’m trying, I really am. But it’s not easy.” The blonde’s expression crumbled, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and regret.

Your eyes stung as the tears feel freely, you heart aching with a pain that seemed to have no end. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

The words hung between you like a chasm, a stark reminder of the divide that had grown between you and the defender. As the silence stretched on, you knew something needed to change. Whether that change would bring you closer together or tear you apart.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso soccer #woso blurbs #leah williamson x you #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso

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bbytamaki · 19 days

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BLOW OUT YOUR CANDLES — eren yeager

genre: nsfw (mdni)

content: eren yeager x fem reader, always blk coded reader but anyone is welcome to read, pet names (baby, baby doll) throat fucking, rough sex but soft eren (ofc), mentioned fingering, consensual photography, whiny eren crumbs, not proofread (lmk if i missed anything!)

note: idk if i like this one but happy birthday to my sweetheart !! 🎂

the slices of cake on your nightstand with burnt out candles had been long forgotten by the time eren had gotten ahold of you.

eren’s large palm gripped your tear stained cheek while you laid on your back with your head hanging over the edge of the bed.

you’d only tried it a few times, but this had become one of his favorite positions that you’d suggested — he loved to fuck your throat up while he watched you cum on his fingers.

you were such a sweet girl letting him have his way with you for his birthday. his heart melted watching your eyes roll back and your neck and chin shine with your own spit. he watched his fingers glisten from your last two orgasms.

your whines reverbed around his length as his tip bruised the back of your throat. his pace was brutal — he could be so mean but always made you feel so good. eren wiped the tears from your face. “shhh, you’re a big girl, y/n. you can take it.”

eren’s praise made your heart flutter. you knew he was close when he slightly slowed down his thrusts. it was so typical of him to savor every moment. you tapped his arm twice to let him know you needed to breathe and rolled onto your stomach. eren couldn’t take it. you just looked so beautiful, even coughing while catching your breath after doing your best to take all of him. you sat up and rested comfortably on your knees.

eren’s hand roughly clutched your soft curls (which he proudly helped you wrap every night) and pulled your head back to look at him while he stroked himself above you. you kissed his hipbones and smiled up at him with those pretty eyes.

“my needy baby.” eren grunted and thrusted into his fist. his girl was so perfect for him. he wanted to love and cherish you forever.

his deep groans faded into quick, sharp whimpers as he neared his orgasm. the sounds he made were your favorite. who knew such a meanie could be so whiny?

you knew that despite how harsh he acted, he was weak for you and folded just by looking at you. the thought brought a smile to your face as you prepared your final move. eren’s jaw fell slack as you slowly leaned forward to kiss his tip. that was his pretty slut.

eren grabbed your chin firmly. “such a messy girl. want me to cum all on that pretty face, baby doll? gonna let me take a picture?” you continued with sloppy kisses around his dripping tip while never breaking eye contact.

“yes, please,” you held out your tongue for him. with a muffled moan, eren spilled sticky ropes of his cum all over your face. he reached clumsily for his phone and pointed the camera toward you. the flash temporarily blinded you, making you roll your eyes playfully.

after taking his picture, eren leaned down to your level. with two fingers, her slowly dragged his seed from your cheek and pushed past your lips. you flattened your tongue and let him massage the inside of your mouth. the taste of the two of you combined was something you’d never forget. eren finished by pulling you in for a long, slow kiss that made your body melt against his.

eren pulled away from your lips and quickly began to clean you up. after, he laid back in bed with you wrapped tightly in his arms. “do you know how much i love you baby?”

“you show me everyday but i’m not sure yet .”

eren nudged your shoulder playfully. “i mean it. you really made today special for me.”

“you know i’d do anything for you, ren. you deserve this.”

eren kissed your forehead and looked down at you with a mischievous smile.

“so are we going again?”

#eren x reader #eren smut #eren x black reader #aot smut #aot x reader #aot x black reader #aot headcanons #eren headcanons #minors look away #eren yeager #eren aot #connie x black reader #jean x black reader #attack on titan

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phoen1xr0se · 2 months

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No Nightingales (a Clue!)

Um.

I don't know why it took me THIS LONG to remember that this line is from Romeo & Juliet.

ROMEO: It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops. I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

Can I please just draw your attention to the last line, please?

I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

Romeo is telling Juliet that he has to leave now before he is discovered and they are forced apart/he is killed.

Hmm, sounds suspicious to me...

They've been talking in coded messages since... well, always. No nightingales means Crowley is trying to tell Aziraphale that has to go, he's trying to tell him that it's dangerous - but what's promising about this is that if he's speaking in code, Crowley knows they're being watched.

I still can't say for sure what's going on at the end of the Final Fifteen, but I do believe this is a Clue.

#good omens meta #good omens thoughts #crowley #no nightingales #romeo and juliet #good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens fandom #neil gaiman #shakespeare #ineffable divorce #final fifteen

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omitea · 26 days

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

. ft. t. fushiguro

. content. emotionally unavailable toji, brief mention of intimacy, toji being an asshole n lacks communication, allusions to cheating (not true), breakup, angst.

. note. fuck toji, he deserves the angst. kinda sucks. too lazy to proofread.

it is a well known fact that the man named toji fushiguro is a cold hearted man.

the same man who does shady business for a living, the same man who used to have a different girl every week in his bed and the exact same man who was the most self-absorbed being one could lay their eyes on.

when you first met him, there was something quite intriguing about him. his dark bangs hanging above his green eyes— beautiful yet intimidating to gaze at. the sharpness of his jaw, the soft pink color of his lips that are adorned by a scar at the corner. if you were to guess, he was probably around his early thirties.

yet you felt something— more likely your gut telling you that this man is purely surrounded by dark shadows. shadows that will consume your light bit by bit as you step into the darkness that awaits. dimming your flame like a single blow can put out a candle. or how quickly a popsicle could melt on a hot day by the pool.

but you longed for something. something a part of you knew he wouldn’t be able to give you. maybe a part of you hoped that the man you were welcoming into your life wouldn’t be so bad. wouldn’t take advantage of your pure heart you were willing to give. but as days pass, weeks, months and eventually a year— you realize that some people aren’t deserving of good things.

he arrived home after two days of staying who knows where. sometimes he was out for a week— longest was two. whenever you asked, he would just brush you off. not giving you an explanation, keeping you in the dark with your own racing thoughts. communicating is something toji isn’t the best at, if you even wanna call it that. it’s something he deeply lacks, and doesn’t bother to work on. you tried. trying multiple ways for him to open up, but failing each time as moments go by.

during intimacy, you never seem to feel connected to the man. grunts and moans of pleasure, but none seem to sound or feel like love. not even the supposedly sweet words he mumbles in your ear while rutting his hips against yours. everything feels empty. and soon enough, your heart will too.

“toji,” you sighed, following behind him as he relaxed on the couch. no answer. “toji, can you at least spare me a moment?.” at that, he finally looked up to you. you couldn’t explain the expression he bared on his face. maybe a mixture of irritation? or exhaustion?

“where were you?,” you question. a simple question that kept you up at night on days he wouldn’t come home. it always made your skin itch— wondering if maybe there was someone else he found home in.

“non’ya business,” he grumbled. you could tell he was trying his hardest to keep focus on the random show that was playing on the television. you shifted on your feet— contemplating whether it’s worth it to keep pushing. that was the only was in this situation to seek for answers.

“it is my business when i’m the one who’s waiting here like a fool,” you said bitterly. bitter like the black coffee he liked to drink in the cold mornings, bitter like the burnt food that sat on the stove when it was long forgotten during a make out session. maybe even more bitter than his next words.

“yeah, most likely a fool if ya think m’ gonna tell ya shit,” he grinned. the side that adorned his scar lifting up. “‘m home now, aren’t i.”

you felt angry. hands shaking as you convinced yourself not to choke him right here and now. you took a deep breath, “can you at least pretend to care? about me? about this fucked-up relationship?.”

he shrugged and placed both of his hands under his head. “for such a feared man, you sure are a coward,” you mumbled. by the time those words left your mouth, the room felt colder and a shiver ran down your spine. you’re far from scared of him, but it’s more about the situation that’s gonna worsen.

“the fuck did ya say to me?,” he stood up. his nose flared as he inched closer to you. “ya don’t have any idea how hard it is to put up with ya shit,” he spat. your eyes remained on his, daring him to speak further. he ran his hand down his face, laughing as he shook his head.

“fucking hell, for all it’s worth, being away from you was probably the best i’ve felt in months.”

you took a step back, scoffing. “then where were you all those times, mhm?.” the question remained. picking at your skin— eating you alive as each second ticked on the clock. it was quiet for a few seconds, it felt too long for it to be so.

“probably fucking some random bitch behind your back,” he said rather calmly. as if it was the most normal thing you’ve both exchanged today.

shit

your heart dropped, your knees felt weak and your brain began to pound against your skull. your breath hitched and before you knew it, the image of toji began to blur. eyes stinging and soon the tears started to fall down your cheeks.

toji remained still. blank expression evident on his face as he tried to calm his heart that was ready to jump out of his throat. he didn’t mean that. he swears he would never. he doesn’t know what came over him.

the sniffles he heard coming from your shaking body made him snap out of it. he should say something, anything. drop to his knees begging you to hear him out. but no to avail, he stays put. he’s not the type of man to do that, he promised himself.

toji isn’t the type to express his emotions, to wear his heart on his sleeve. to make you feel loved, to make you feel understood. but instead he makes you feel the opposite. unwanted, not deserving of love, worthless…

he sees you walking towards the bedroom, guessing you’re grabbing your stuff to leave. his scarred lip twitches to call out to you, and he finally understands. he knows that he’s truly the only one who was undeserving of you and your precious heart all along.

so he stays behind. watching your back as you head out the door without uttering a single word. and that was the last time you’ve seen him and the last time you would ever settle for less.

©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀. please refrain from stealing my works !

#—sinnie posts ♡#☆ —jjk!#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #toji #toji fushiguro angst #toji angst #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader

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mvltisstuff · 4 months

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santa baby - e.b **

summary: christmas eve shenanigans by the tree

evan buckley x reader

smut!!

things sped up very quickly after athena’s christmas eve party. eventually, the candles burnt out and denny, along with other children, had to be tucked into bed before santa came tumbling on their roofs.

the innocence of the night was wearing off as buck stared at y/n in her tight red dress with the straight neckline. her arms were perfectly strung by her sides with the champagne glass in her hand. her rounded breasts were contoured by the golden lighting in athena’s room, and buck wanted to slap himself.

he hated feeling so turned on in the middle of a celebration for the holidays, but he couldn’t help but feel himself pushing against the fabric of his pants. the tingling sense in his stomach only grew when he saw y/n push her hair behind her shoulder, showing her sexy collarbones on which her long, gold necklace dangled over.

eddie’s sly comments were just faint sounds in bucks ear, teasing him for practically eye-fucking his girl from across the room. so, they were the next to leave.

buck had to stop himself from dragging her over the gearshift of his jeep and pulling her onto his lap. he wanted to feel the way her dress bunched up on her waist and then slowly peel it off her body as she begging for more.

“buck, slow down,” y/n asked, a slight chuckle in her voice looking at bucks white knuckles on the wheel. “it’s all fun and games until you get a ticket.”

“just wait til you see what im gonna do to you when we’re home. you’re gonna want me going faster.”

“oh.” y/n mumbled, shuffling in her seat, feeling the warmth in her lower stomach grow. she honestly thought buck was having a normal night, but she also knew what she was doing when she pulled that dress out of her closet. she slid her control center up on her phone, quickly turning on do not disturb for the night ahead of her.

he pulled frantically into the parking garage, running to her side of the door and grabbing her hand to pull her in.

“jesus, buck slow down!” she laughed. “you’re gonna rip my arm out of the socket.” she shut the door behind her quietly, noticing how late it was and not wanting to disturb anyone.

the moment she spun around, his hands were back on her sides, floating down her back and pushing his fingers into her ass. his lips were onto hers like a magnet, his soft kiss leaving stars in her mind. she could only faintly smell the whiskey on his lips, the one he sipped at while his dick was begging to be touched by her. he allowed her to fall into him, her hands touching the sides of his face and the back of his neck. he moved his legs quickly, pulling them into the living room. he sat her on the couch before sneakily scurrying away.

“what-“ she didn’t even have time to ask before he came back downstairs, his arms flooding with every pillow in the house. he slammed them onto the floor, right in front of the tree. “you do know we have a couch, right?”

“what’s the fun in that? c’mon,” he leans into her ear, his arms wrapping around her hips. “don’t lie and say you’ve never wanted me to fuck you under this tree?”

her mouth went slightly agape, shocked at his eagerness to please and the fantasies speeding through his head. “show me you’re not all talk then.”

he scooped her up, bending his knees to the ground and laying her on the pillows. he unstrapped her heels, throwing them across the room as she lay back against the cool, silky pillows. one of the straps of her dress was already sinking down her shoulder, practically begging buck to kiss all over her already. y/n propped herself up on her elbows, tugging at his shirt as he kissed her aggressively.

she felt his thick arms under the shirt, getting wetter just thinking about his muscles on top of her. buck placed his hands over y/n’s, leading them to the bottom of his shirt where she pulled it up, revealing his sexy figure and where his confidence rose. she just undid a few of the buttons on his pants before he couldn’t handle the wait. he stripped down completely, leaving his naked body to her view only.

it felt unfair for just him to be completely on display, and he only wanted to see her beautiful body in front of him. he started inching the dress up, leaning his body down to her thighs. he planted sweet kisses on her inner thighs, sucking and nipping at the skin. he eventually got to the point where the dress was on the floor, discarded somewhere with their other garments.

his large hands ran over her body, cupping her boobs and squeezing them lightly, in the most teasing way. he always knew how to get her where he wanted her, and he knew she was ready for him now. “shit.”

he placed a hand on her lower back, leaning her up to unhook her bra with one hand. he tossed it behind his head, earning a gentle giggle from y/n. he looked back rapidly, staring at her hardened nipples and bending down to connect his mouth.

his fingers were pinching and circling her left while his tongue worked on the right, getting the perfect amount of stimulation to get y/n all worked up. he loved to see the blush on her face, seeing her get all flustered and horny from his kisses. he sucked all around the skin on her tits, leaving small marks over her.

once he saw that she was fully content, he pecked a bit on her stomach, moving back to her inner thighs, just getting closer to her center. his fingers wrapped around the edge of her thong, pulling it down to fully reveal her wet pussy, the one that belonged to him.

“you’re actually the hottest person i’ve ever seen,” he said, connecting his eyes with her own as she smiled down at him. “just wanna taste you.”

his hands were placed on her knees, spreading her legs as far as they would go and settling himself in between. his fingers ran up her smoothly, the way they always do but make her feel ecstatic. he got his first moan as he circled his wet fingers around her clit, letting his fingers warm her up before his mouth was on her.

he licked and kissed at her lips as if they were just like her face, guiding the almost whimsical noises to leave her mouth. his arm was hooked under her thigh, his hand just by the top of her pubic bone. he lifted her up slightly to connect his lips to her clit, starting to suck again.

y/n’s hands reached down, lightly tugging at bucks growing hair in between her legs. she adored the way his hands were resting on her body as he ate her out and how lovingly he did it. he hit every spot that she needed to get off as she grinded on his tongue as it circled around her pussy.

as he kept licking at her favorite places, she came with a firework that left stars in her eyes and her chest heavy. her lungs filled with air, trying to catch up to the pleasurable feeling in her groin.

“buck!” y/n moans out. “god, buck i’m gonna cum.”

“cum for me, baby.” his deep voice vibrates against her cunt, instantly sparking up her entire body and leaving shocks throughout it. she clenched around nothing but the feeling of bucks mouth working her through her orgasm, her wetness being already around by his tongue.

when he finally released his hold on her legs and removed his mouth from her sensitive clit, buck pushed himself up onto his knees.

he connected his lips with hers once again, y/n now able to taste her sweet pussy on his lips. the way he treated her taste like an expensive wine just made it even better as he pushed his lips harder against hers. his tongue forced itself into her mouth, rocking against her own in a perfect rhythm. he used her mouth like he was starving, and he couldn’t help himself. the mix of her juices and her chapstick was the ultimate turn on, just making his dick grow harder.

“god, i wanna fuck you so bad.” buck groans, dragging his lips down her neck and sucking harshly on the skin.

“please fuck me already. i wanna feel you inside of me.” y/n begged, and buck could hear it in her voice how badly she wanted him.

y/n reached down, stroking bucks dick and pumping it a few times before leading it down to her pussy.

he ran his dick through her folds, collecting the mix of juices from her pussy and his own spit. the noises that she made as he grinded himself against here were heavenly, sounds that could turn him on faster than anything. the feeling of bucks body on top of her was unreal, almost like a dream. she reached up to grip his muscles as his hands moves down her waist.

he finally slid himself into her vagina, allowing himself to feel her tightness around his dick. he moaned out loudly, as if it were the first time he was ever in her. “holy shit, baby.” buck reached up through the pillows, taking y/n’s hands off her face. “don’t cover that pretty face.”

“you feel so fucking good.”

buck intwined his fingers with hers, bending her arms and pulling her hands up to the side of her head. he, in the most romantic way possible, rubbed her hands with his thumbs as he fucked her at the perfect place, hitting the amazing spots in her to make her moan out in pleasure.

he thrusted in her so hard, making her back arch off the pillows and making it difficult for her lungs to fill with air. the familiar sense started to creep up on her again, the bubble inside her threatening to burst.

“im so close, y/n, god,” buck groans out, not breaking the speed or rhythm of his thrusts. the only noises in the room were the wet sound of buck inside her and their practically synchronized moans of pleasure.

“you’re gonna make me cum, buck.”

“cum with me, baby, i got you.” buck continued to force himself into her, just the way she loves. he saw the way her face scrunched up and how her mouth dropped open with her blushed cheeks. the look in her eyes signaled how close she was, knowing they’d come together soon.

both of their legs shook as he came inside of her, spilling into her tight pussy. his thrusts slowed down, seeing his cum cover his dick and make a mess of her cunt. he leaned forward, shamelessly moaning into y/n’s ear as they both rode out their orgasms, using the other to their advantage.

“you’re so beautiful.” buck looks to the side, his nose lightly touching the side of y/n’s face before she tilts it.

“says you,” y/n winks, moaning again as buck pushes his fingers inside of her, attempting to clean the mess of juices and cum that they left. he pulls his hand up, letting y/n suck them and taste themselves mixed together.

buck rolls fully on his back, dragging y/n on top of him as she straddles him. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too, honey,” buck replies, kissing her lips again. “merry christmas, sexy.”

y/n laughs, gazing down at him and his goofy grin. “merry christmas, buck.”

“wait til you see what i got us for christmas.”

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spiriteddreams · 6 months

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waited around, I should've known you wouldn't show / and I'm just a fool who spent her birthday all alone — maisie peters (birthday) cw: angst

neuvillette, who has to go to the courthouse on your birthday. he says, "the law demands that i be there.” and who are you to argue against the iudex. justice waits for no one, not even you. and you’re only left to wonder if he even remembers if it's your birthday or not. he leaves you with a kiss on the forehead, so brief and chaste that when you step out for the day, the wind seems to wipe it away as if mocking you. and you count the minutes from the moment you wake, as balloons are inflated and then float away, as wax melts down candles one by one and as the day comes and goes. and neuvillette doesn't show.

and when he returns, house cold and curtains drawn shut, he is greeted by the silence of burnt out candles and opened gifts, none of which are signed by him. the gift that he has brought feels heavy in his hands. guilt guides his figure as he navigates through the hallways once filled with warmth, now devoid of any light, just remnants of a party that he didn't attend.

and as the clocks hands drag closer and closer to midnight you sit there alone, still halfway hopeful that he'll show. so you can only wonder if he remembers, or if he even cares. actions speak louder than words, and the silence of your home reminds you that to neuvillette, the law stands above all else. and that selfish part of you wishes that for once, he would make an exception for you. for your birthday. because while it is wonderful to spend a special day such as your birthday with your closest friends, there is a small part of you that wishes that if anyone, neuvillette would have remembered, he would have come.

as you drift off to sleep, you miss the sound of the door opening and closing. you miss the sound of footsteps padding across the floor. you miss his guilty eyes, clouded with the dull throb of an aching chest, and the unmistakable shudder of his breath as he steps closer to your tired figure. you’ve pulled the sheets closer to yourself, as if trying to comfort yourself, tugging whatever lingering warmth he might’ve left you with in the morning.

he wonders, how long will you stay like this, how long will you allow him to show up to every moment of your life late, to only crawl beneath the sheets to savor your comfort and warmth in the middle of the night. because it’s unfair to you, neuvillette thinks to himself, and he must be the most selfish man of all to still crave the softness of your heart and hands, a special spot carved out for him. he is selfish, he thinks to himself. selfish and cruel and undeserving of the welcome of your embrace.

and yet you turn around, seemingly in tune with his actions and thoughts. he sees the hurt in your eyes, the dried tears and puffy eyes, the slight part of your lips with angry words ready to spill. but you say nothing and instead untangle yourself from the bedsheets and hold them open for him. you take in his hesitance but still don’t say a word, and neuvillette wonders if the silence is hurting you more than it is him.

“i’m truly sorry,” he rasps out. his voice wavers, fingers tremble and yet you stare at him in the dim light of your room. “i don’t deserve your forgiveness, but—“

“come to bed.” your voice is stern but still kind. for a moment he hesitates again, but finds himself moving towards the bed, towards you, without thinking. your warmth is comforting and familiar, daresay he considers it forgiving.

“thank you for coming home.”

the clock strikes 12, the sign of a new day, and he finds that he's forgotten to wish you happy birthday.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #genshin impact neuvillette #spiriteddreams writing #spiriteddreams

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adelheidvonschicksal · 2 months

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ᴄʜᴇʀʀʏ

Summary: You make for a good distraction when things get tough. Sukuna's fingers may be bitter, but your kisses are sweet.

Pairing: Itadori x GN!Reader

Tags: fluff, light angst, hurt and comfort, developing relationships, sfw

-----

The fingers of Sukuna are an ugly sight; burnt burgundy and twistedly decrepit, crowned with a pointed black nail that scratches at Itadori’s throat whenever he swallows one. The taste is even worse, akin to someone soaking an old cigar in cloudy mop water before clumsily preserving it in candle wax.

It takes all his strength to not pucker his face and dig his nails into the column of his neck whenever the soapy wax flavor hits his tongue. Every fiber of his body would react to reject the intrusion. The lingering aftertaste was another issue. He couldn’t erase it by scraping his tongue against his teeth; burying it with sweet or spicy foods after a mission only helped so much, leaving him to wait until it disappeared on its own as the hours past. He thought it would get easier every time; and for a while, it did.

Until it didn't.

He wanted to stop. But he couldn't stop, not after all this, not until he eats them all, not until he makes everyone's suffering mean something.

So, when he’s about to eat another finger after a grueling, emotionally draining late-evening mission, he braces himself.

As always, the flavor is waxxy, almost non-existent, then putrid when he accidentally bites down. His body knee jerks to react, gag reflex hiccuping and stomach bile rising to reject it, to tell him to spit it out. He closes his eyes tight and squeezes at his throat to loosen the straining muscles, begging his body to hurry up and accept it so it would end faster. Sukuna and everything that comes with eating these cursed objects. It doesn’t want to give in this time, and he squats as if it could help and also because he's so tired of this.

Suddenly, there’s a subtle sweetness, like fruit on the tongue, cutting through the taint. It’s an easy succor to chase and mold to while a comforting force travels up his neck and over his hands, gently forcing them to drop so it can replace them. This touch eventually settles under his bottom eyelids, smooth crescents drawing right along his cheekbones.

This taste is not exactly as strong as the sugar and spice that he normally uses to cover up the filthy flavor in his mouth but there’s something relaxing about the warmth that accompanies it and settles against his lips. Prayers answered, his clenching throat relaxes, allowing him to swallow, and his body quickly adapts to the new addition.

When the sensation stops, Itadori can finally open his eyes.

It’s you.

You’re here, kneeling in front of him and glowing against the dark backdrop of the night that you’re a little blinding to his lagging mind.

How could he forget that you came here with him?

There’s a soft silence flowing between you, and he only now notices that you’re holding his face. However, he doesn’t feel the need to make you let go as heat creeps up his skin and his heart begins to echo in his chest, temporarily numbing his mind from the sour aftereffects of eating Sukuna’s fingers.

“Better?” you ask with a small tilt of your head.

Itadori is caught off-guard by the question, feeling a bit dazed and more than a little confused.

“It’s…better,” he eventually mumbles so quietly that his voice gets buried under the breeze. “Thanks.”

His eyes drift lower on your face, finding your lips. He fights the blush threatening to overtake him as he takes in the reddish shine on your lips and pieces together what happened.

“Strawberry?” he hoarsely asks, half-jokingly and half because he feels as if he needs to say something, or else it would be awkward, wouldn’t it?

“Cherry, actually,” you correct with a tiny smile.

“Oh,” he exclaims, his cheeks still a pretty pink as he wonders if the kiss was something you wanted to do. He wonders why it made him feel so much better. He wonders if that would be something you do next time or if this was simply a one-off action thought of in the heat of the moment. He also wonders, for a moment, if he deserved it.

“Could you…” he begins then hesitates.

Is he even allowed to ask such a thing?

“Do that again?” He requests and shamefully palms at his chest for daring to ask for something so personal. “It’s uhm, the aftertaste.”

It’s partially the truth and partially because he wants to figure out why.

Nodding, you give in more readily than he expects and lean in to kiss him again. This time he dares to press the tip of his tongue against your lips, too nervous and confused to breach between them.

You’re right. It’s sweet, slightly tart, blatantly artificial, but so much better than anything else he can imagine right now. Yet he doesn't think it's the gloss causing his body to ease, if only a little.

When you pull away, he finds his mind finally catching up and blushes at the fact your lips are still so close to his. Exhaling slowly, he tries to ignore the dull ache still bubbling in his chest in exchange for thinking about the taste you left behind, the one that makes soft emotions emerge from his heart like a butterfly from its cocoon when he looks at you.

“Yeah…" he reinforces dreamily, letting the wind once again carry away his words, "It’s cherry.”

#itadori x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #jjk x reader #yuuji x reader #yuji x reader #gender neutral reader #hurt/comfort

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lilibethwrites · 1 year

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Head that Wears the Crown

Aemond Targaryen x F!Targaryen!Reader

There is only one woman in the whole of Westeros who can get inside Aemond’s Targaryen’s head. On the night of Aegon II’s coronation, Aemond’s beloved wife, Y/N Targaryen is not happy with who wears the crown, and she seduces her husband into making a move that might change the order of succession in a mere turn of the moon.

Warnings: smut, incest

A.N: Reader is Rhaenyra and Daemon’s daughter and married to Aemond. This is somewhat darker than what I usually write, but it’s also something I’ve been meaning to write while I’m still working on the requests I’ve received.

Word count: 1958

You were at the Dragonpit earlier, standing tall and proud with your husband by your side as Aegon was crowned as the true King. Within you, however, the fire of a dozen dragons burnt bright and tall. The same fire also burned inside your husband as he grunted and scoffed, your hand in his was squeezed to the point of discomfort—pain, even, as he tried to restrain himself.

It should have been you. It should have been Aemond. The legacy of Aegon the Conqueror was insulted when his crown was placed upon the head of the disgraceful, reproachable man you had the displeasure of calling your brother-in-law.

And Helaena? Old Gods and new had to band together to save your family from doom if she were to rule alongside her brother.

What you devised required a clear head on your part and Aemond’s both to blossom. You allowed him to take a flight on Vhagar to clear his head, and spar with Ser Criston afterwards until his arms and knees threatened to give out.

Then you knew where to find him as if you’d placed him there by your own hand. In the new, spacious bedchamber in addition to yours, gifted to you as Aegon and Helaena vacated it. You suspected it was a consolation gift from Alicent. A mere room for the Seven Kingdoms.

The room was spacious. The floor was tiled with veiny marbles imported from Dorne between smooth stones and the walls were covered in rich tapestries; and it was dark, illuminated by what seemed like a dozen candles and the fire from the fireplace alone. In the middle was a tub partially obscured by a silk curtain left ajar, and within it was Aemond with his arms hanging out on each side, his slender fingers drumming on the side of the cold tub with a servant carefully scrubbing his broad shoulders.

Your entrance did not go unnoticed, and you relieved the servant of the frightful duty. She had heard the tales from other girls who’s heard them from others: Aemond was cruel and short-tempered. He’s beaten and maimed people on a whim. On an evening like this in particular, it was easy as a pie to get on his nerves.

“Leave us,” you ordered, and she set down the rag and scurried away eagerly. Aemond’s face was turned away from his Princess wife, you, and towards the fireplace that extended all the way up to the high ceiling. It gave his face a soft tinge of warmth, he almost looked less intimidating.

“My love.”

Only a hum.

You took a fluffed-up pillow from the bed and kneeled on it beside the tub, to which Aemond finally turned his head. You only hoped it was washed thoroughly. Even through heavy stockings, you were revolted to kneel on only Gods knew what touched before. Knowing Aegon, it was nothing decent.

“What a day we’ve had,” you whispered, dipping the rag in water.

“Hm.”

You began with his arm, scrubbing gently and slowly before moving up to his shoulder, following the muscular curve of it in circles.

“Talk to me, husband,” you whispered again, much closer to his ear this time, and sealed your seduction with a kiss to his neck.

From the way his chest rose and fell, you knew he was giving in to you.

“Aegon is…” he sighed. Aemond shared your dislike for Aegon but his sense of duty and his commitment to his family tied his tongue. You, however, were also his family, and you were determined.

“A drunkard and a charlatan, yes. Not at all the knight and the scholar you are. The heirloom of Aegon belonged to you and you alone, my love.”

You dipped the rag into the water once again, this time rubbing his chest. He caught your heavy-lidded eyes and licked his lips like a man starved before a feast.

“Aegon is the king, now. This is treason,” Aemond spoke through gritted teeth. The words of his older brother’s coronation were heavy on his pride and difficult to speak.

“So be it. Then we shall hang together.”

You trailed down from his chest to his abdomen. His muscles under your rag tightened. He could foresee your next move as with shaky breaths that bordered on sweet mewls and moans, you let go of the rag and pressed your palm on his skin.

“Hand in hand in death as we are in life, my love,” your fingers travelled down a patch of light hair that led to his manhood.

He was growing hard already and twitched in your palm when you gave his cock a light squeeze and a pump. Aemond’s hips shifted as he slid down the tub, his legs spread wider to accommodate your conduct.

His breath was heavier also, shaking with each up-and-down slide of your hand around his shaft and with kisses pressed to the corners of his lips.

“Aegon cannot hurt you, love. No one can while I am around,” he grunted. His head was thrown back in pleasure though his eye was trained on your face still.

“Mmm, husband. What would I do without you?” You purred in his ear, scratching with your words the spot that pleased him the most.

Aemond wasn’t a man to be manipulated, but you were a woman not to be underestimated. Your hold over him was stronger than most knew. Perhaps even Aemond himself didn’t always know just how much of his decisions were placed in his head by his dear wife.

“It was not right,” his lips loosened up between grunts as you picked up the pace with your strokes. “He—he should not have—” he stuttered between gasps and huffs.

“We can make it right. My dear husband, we can make it right,” You could tell he was close. A hand on the curved corner of the tub clutched the marble so tight that veins on top of his hand and around his forearm popped up. He hissed through gritted teeth with each stroke you gave him from the hilt to the tip.

He was burning up, too. When you pressed quick but wet kisses all over his neck and jaw, your lips felt as if you’ve kissed hot coals.

“How?”

You knew the signs all too well. You knew when to press on, and much to your husband’s dismay, you knew when to pull back. With a disappointed groan from Aemond’s throat, you pulled your hand out of the water and began slowly to loosen up the bodice of your dress.

He watched you with a heavy-lidded eye and a heavier heave of his chest. The heavy silk of your gown slid down from your shoulders and bared your naked breasts to your husband. He cupped one, massaging and squeezing, desperate to feel more of you.

Aemond’s wet hand raised goosebumps on your skin. There was the familiar, sweet building up of heat and ache between your legs, as well. You needed him just as he needed you. Though before you allowed yourself to indulge, the matter at hand needed Aemond to be resolved on a particular solution—and who better than you, his darling wife, to make it happen?

You cupped his cheek and brushed your lips against his before sliding your tongue between his parted lips. It was more of a promise of things that might come, so you pulled back when his hand tangled in your hair to deepen the kiss.

“There is a way, my love.”

You had Aemond just the way you wanted then: panting and gasping, trembling, silently begging to be touched, to be inside you. Your thumb caressed his lips, and he watched you expectantly.

“Though some might say it shall visit a curse upon us—”

“You are asking me to… to—”

“Not quite. Not a slit throat, or a sword through the heart. But… you do fly together occasionally. Above the clouds, above even where the Gods cannot reach you. If a dreadful accident were to happen…”

“It would be—”

“It would be the only way to ensure there would be no protests to your coronation,” your hand wrapped around his neck gently, your thumb stroking the vein that ran from the side of his sensitive flesh. You could feel the flow of his hot blood when you pressed your finger down on it.

Aemond leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. If it wasn’t an immediate no, it was a yes. A reluctant one, maybe even an afraid one—and could you blame him considering the weight of what you just asked of him?— but it was a yes.

Your hand dipped into the water and down between his legs again, and you started stroking his already-stimulated cock, this time to bring him to his peak.

“Leave Helaena to me. I know you are fond of her,” Though the idea that Aemond was keen on her made it all the more alluring to do away with her in a more permanent manner, you had to tread carefully and make your calculations precisely. Your plan was as delicate as it was dangerous. If you turned greedy, it could collapse.

“I shall ensure she disappears without damage. This, I promise to you, my love. But Aegon,” you squeezed him, and he reached down to grab your wrist, making your hand resume its movement.

“Aegon must…”

“I will do it,” he finally agreed to your plan. The hesitation in his voice was palpable, but you knew your husband to be a man of his word. He would do it if he promised he would.

So you kissed him one more time as he guided your hand around his cock, only a few more strokes away from release. You didn’t resist when he bit your lip and swirled his tongue around yours.

“I shall be the kinslayer to put a crown on your head, my dear, wicked wife,” he murmured against your lips. It took one to know one. And that was all you needed to hear, so you worked his cock just the way that he liked—the way that drew out ragged moans from his trembling lips.

He came panting, chasing his pleasure with erratic and desperate jolts and rolls of his hips. You let him, and he fucked your hand until the last drop of his load.

Aemond’s head was thrown back, his eye shut tight with tremors still going through his hips and groin. He only looked at you when he heard the rustling of your skirt on the stone and marble floor. He watched you—exhausted and having barely caught his breath— as you stepped out of your dress and joined him in the tub. Bubbled bath water splashed on the floor as you straddled him.

“My king,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and his breath hitched in his throat. If he wasn’t convinced of the plan before, hearing the words from your mouth certainly sealed the deal for him.

“My cruel, cruel queen.”

“Only to our enemies, my love. Only to those who would do nought but menace to us.”

“Oh, whatever would I do without you?” Aemond teased, mockery laced with playfulness. You could let him entertain any notion he liked as long as you got your wishes.

He was growing hard under you again with each roll of your hips. As his head bowed down to take your nipple in his mouth, you guided him inside you.

A shared moan escaped your lips as he filled you to the brim and your walls fluttered around him.

“Don’t—don’t stop,” he pleaded.

You had no such plans. Not for the night, nor for the future.

Aemond Tag (let me know if you’d like to be added to it):

@cherishedauthor @schniiipsel @verycollectivecreator @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @aemcndtargaryen @m1ndbrand @iorveth-scoiatael @let-love-bleeds-red @imakeangelscry @midnightindiewolf @queereddie @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @nighttwingg @mllemarianne @lomllino @tinykryptonitewerewolf @mirandastuckinthe80s @loverandqueenofdragons @fultimefangirl @lenasvoid @leilani788 @theekinslayer @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @m00n5t0n3 @paprikaquinn @dearbaji

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd #house of the dragon

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lovelettersfromluna · 6 months

Text

Linger

Summary: Back home for the holidays after hooking up with your best friend, who you also happen to be madly in love with...what could possibly go wrong.

an: Look who managed to get the final part of a series in a manageable time, me!! This honestly would have been out way sooner but I ended up getting pretty sick, so I apologize for that. Im feeling better, and super inspired! I have some other stuff in the works for you all as well, bc I think you deserve to be spoiled 😌. Anyways! I hope you guys enjoy the last installment of this fic!! 🖤🖤🖤

Warnings: Smut!! MDNI!! 18+, Ellie and reader are both very sad and very stubborn, angst, hurt/comfort, alcohol usage, mention of marijuana, making out, pet names, oral (Ellie receiving), tribbing, let me know if I missed anything!

Part 1, part 2

Tag list: @eveshyper @mattm1964 @teawithnosugar @macaroni676 @ximtiredx @gold-dustwomxn @mina-281 @aethelwyneleigh27 @abbysmainbitch @lil-elliesgf @franreadss @fairyysoiree @r3wbeef @liizzygrant @elliewilliamsgf69 @mabelle-cherie @cauliflowerpatch @forelliesposts @lunasolac @nil-eena @pillowprincessleia @pedropascalsbbg @ellieswifeyy @lesbiantothemoonandback @dummysimp011 @miniaturebananadefendor @sweetpumpkins @thesmutconnoisseur @miksde @delicategirlie @sawaagyapong @thesevi0lentdelights @p4ison1vy @coxmicbabygirl @julibanana925 @viswifetotallyreal

The holidays had always been your favorite time of the year.

It always filled you with this warm, cozy, feeling every time you thought about it. Throughout all three hundred and sixty five days of the year, you looked forward to those last three months tucked away at the end of the year, that were filled with nothing but warm memories.

Ever since you had started college, you family made it a tradition of having you come back for the holidays. Right after halloween, you would practically race through the assignments you had until thanksgiving break before you were off to catch a flight to spend time with your family.

You and Ellie always went home together.

She was practically apart of your family, and you were practically apart of hers. If Joel wasn't knocking on your door with a half burnt pie with Ellie standing by his side, eager to play whatever new video came out that month, you and your family were making their way to the Miller house. It was just how things were, and you it was another reason why you loved the holidays so much.

But this year, things had changed.

The air only got colder with each passing day, nipping away at your skin and making it harder and harder to peel yourself from your warm bed every morning that you had class. It was like with each passing year, the colder months grew to be more bitter and unforgiving than the last.

It had been almost a month since you spoke to Ellie.

After everything that had happened at the party, the slew of emotions that brewed within the depths of your mind and soul was almost too much to bare.

After you passed out in Ellie's arm, the bliss you felt could not compare to anything else you had ever felt before. Out of all that you had done, every one you had ever been intimate with, there was no way they could ever hold a candle to the way Ellie made you feel that night. Her arms stayed wrapped around your body throughout the entire night, soft lips pressing sleepy kisses against your face and neck, her low voice mumbling sweet nothings into your ear between the hazy state that lies between sleep and wake.

All of it came together to create the single most euphoric experience you had ever come in contact with in your entire life. But but daylight, it was all ripped away.

As soon as your eyes opened, adjusting to the light shining into the foreign bedroom you slept in, you were confused. You weren't in your bedroom, you certainly weren't in your house, you started to struggle with finding things that you were familiar with.

The second you looked down and saw Ellie's face pressed against your chest, you had gotten what you asked for.

It made you seize up a bit, your body stiffening in the girls embrace as you slowly recalled what had happened the night prior. Images of Ellie slotted between your legs came flooding in, her face slick with your arousal, green eyes low and filled with lust, mumbling the filthiest things to you as she destroyed your core with her skilled tongue.

The memories alone made you whine.

The sound made Ellie groan in her sleep, the brunette humming softly as she stirred a bit in her sleep before she leaned in, pressing lazy, sleepy kisses against your throat as she nuzzled closer into you, seeking your warmth as she slowly came to.

"hmmm..whats the matter baby?" She mumbles out against your skin, her voice low and filled with that delicious gravel that only came with sleep. It makes you swallow thickly, taking a deep inhale as you still in her arms.

She was so comfortable, basking in the bliss that you felt mere moments ago. You could tell, from the relaxed muscles of her biceps, to the soft little hums that you felt against your neck, Ellie didn't have a care in the world, not when you were in her arms like this, not when she still had memories of the night prior running through her mind, painting a soft little smile on her pink lips

And truthfully? That made you feel even worse.

Your lack of a response makes her hum, as she blinked her green eyes open to stare up at you, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw. She saw the look on your face, she saw how it was nearly drained of all color. She was confused, because you both had such an amazing night together, there was no reason why you shouldn't be just as blissed out as she was.

"Baby? You with me?" She questioned once again, watching as you blink a few times, seemingly registering her words. You inhaled deeply, clearing your throat as you grabbed both of her arms, and began pulling them from around your body. Ellie frowned as she watched you, but not making any attempt to tighten her grasp and keep you close to her.

You didn't answer, you simply rolled out of bed and silently began grabbing your clothes that had been tossed around the bedroom, the fact alone made you frown further, because through the haze of your hangover, the exhaustion, and the overwhelming urge to crawl back into bed and let Ellie do whatever she wanted to you.

All you could think about, was Sofia.

Her pretty hair, her twinkling eyes, the little dimples she had at the corners of her lips. Her pretty face was the only thing that you could see in your mind. It was like her beauty was evading every corner of your brain, forcing herself to be known, to be acknowledged by you. For anyone, this would have most definitely been the normal thoughts that are linked to someone as beautiful as Sofia, but not for you.

Because you were moaning underneath her girlfriend a mere few hours ago.

You felt like you wee going to pass out. Your heart started to beat faster as the magnitude of what you did, what you let happen, finally began to settle in. It made you feel sick, and the back of your throat burned as hot tears threatened to spill past your eyes and onto your cheeks. How could you have been so stupid? How could you have ever let something like this happen? You were careless, and it was at the expense of someone else's feelings, someone else's relationship.

Through the racing thoughts that filled your head, and the pounding of your heart in your chest, you couldn't hear Ellie calling out for you multiple times. She was sat up on the bed, eyeing you as you rummaged through the bedroom to grab your belongings. She watched with furrowed eyebrows, and a gentle frown, trying to get you to simply look at her for a few minutes. Ellie knew you too well, and she knew that the quieter you got in times like this, the more you got trapped inside your own head.

She was losing you, and she knew that.

She called out your name once more, and through the graces of some unknown force, you heard it. It snaps you out of your thoughts, and it forced you to stand up straight, your head turning in her direction and eyeing her like a deer caught in the headlights. It made Ellie sigh softly, her feet swinging over the bed as she got up, and began making her way over to you.

"What's...what are you doing, baby? I thought...I thought we" She mumbled out softly, taking a few steps towards you. Her frown deepened when you respond to this, by stepping away from her. The way you stared up at her, is a look she doesn't think she will ever be able to forget, because you look terrified, disgusted, scared.

Worst part is, she doesn't know if you feel that way about you, or yourself.

She tried reaching out for you, slender fingers inches away from your waist, her hands burning for you once again. You stepped back again, staring at the girl in disbelief. "Thought what, Ellie? Huh? Thought that...that you could just ruin my night last night? And then drag me up to a random fucking room just to fuck me? So that you could.." You choked up, the words dying down in your throat, the mere thought of what you were going to say making those hot tears burn at your throat again.

You inhaled deeply, blinking back the tears that glossed over your eyes. "That you could use me, to cheat on Sofia" you whispered out, and that was enough to make those wretched tears spill onto your cheeks.

Ellie felt herself choke up as soon as she saw you that way, teary eyed, voice barely above a whisper, heart visibly breaking, and it was all because of her. It was all because of her, and her inability to do things right for once in her life.

You didn't make any attempt at hiding your tears anymore, they were there, and it was clear to see that what happened, was affecting you. The only thing you could do, was leave with the small amount of pride that you still had.

When a moment passed without Ellie saying anything, the girl knowing deep down, that there was nothing she could truly say to justify the situation, or make her actions any less wrong than they already were, you let out a tired sigh. You picked up the last of your things, slung your purse over your shoulder, and left Ellie there standing there.

And as horrible as it sounded, it hurt even more when she didn't try to chase after you.

You didn't want to ask your mom if Ellie and Joel were coming to your house for the holidays, because you knew that it would instantly raise suspicion on what had been going on between the two of you. Your mother could see right through you, and she was no stranger to how eager you always became to have both Joel and Ellie over to the holidays, so once she noticed that it was replaced with anxiety, she would be concerned. She was already confused when she learned that you and Ellie wouldn't be making your way home together like usual.

You hated traveling alone, you always did the annual holiday flight home with Ellie. She made what would usually be quite the boring trip, something that you found to be just as exciting as the holidays itself. You saw it as the perfect way to kick off your favorite time of the year.

But this year, you were doing it alone. Something about it made you feel like the holidays this year wouldn't go down as one of your favorites.

As soon as your parents were picking you up from the airport, and smothering you in kisses, telling you how much they missed you and asking you how your flight went, you felt a bit of the dark cloud that was looming over you clear up a bit. It allowed you to forget about the intense thoughts of your best friend that had been following you around for the past month.

It made you feel hopeful for the time that you had home.

After that night, there was a tiny piece of you that hoped Ellie would reach out. You selfishly hoped that she would come and find you, apologize for what happened, tell you that things between her and Sofia were fine, so that you could go back to normal.

But she didn't.

Ellie ignored you, just as much as you ignored her.

You kept your head down for the most part, in class and when walking through the hallways. You didn’t know how you’d be able to handle seeing Ellie, or seeing Sofia.

Or worse, seeing them together.

When it was fresh, you wanted to avoid it. You wanted to pretend it didn’t happen and carry on throughout the remainder of the semester keeping to yourself.

Soon, you realized that you’d gone the longest without speaking to Ellie throughout your entire friendship. She didn’t text you, she didn’t try to come and see you, hell, she didn’t even look in your direction. It was like she didn’t know you, as if you hadn’t practically grown up together, reaching your greatest milestones together.

On her end, there was complete silence.

The one time you caught her looking at you, was when Alex was sitting with you in the courtyard one day. It was one of the last days leading up to the break, and Alex had slowly made her way back to you. After everything happened, she gave you your space, while quietly letting you know she was still around. Once you finally worked up the courage to speak to her, and apologize for what Ellie did, she told you she understood. She tried to explain to you, that the way Ellie looked at you, wasn’t the way someone looks at just a friend. She could see the fire in her eyes, an undeniable need for you.

But you refused to believe it.

Ellie had every chance to be with you. She was the closest person in the world to you, she knew everything about you, her she never made any attempts to take things further. That was fine, it wasn’t something you dwelled on, because if you weren’t Ellie’s type, then so be it. You knew you weren’t, and while it was something that didn’t bother you…

It did once she had no issue with hooking up with you, but never tried to actually love you.

It made you feel cheap, knowing that you were only worthy of being the other woman, of being the girl that had to stay hidden behind closed doors, a fantasy for Ellie to play with, all while having the benefits of Sofia as her girlfriend. It made you wonder why you weren’t good enough, what separated you from the other girls she dated.

You figured you’d leave that thought alone. If you didn’t, you’d drive yourself mad.

Alex acted as your person of comfort through all of this, offering you nights of hanging out, study dates, or even stopping by to talk after class. You had to admit, it helped. And while she was sitting across from you on a bench underneath a shady tree, listening as you vented about the paper you were working on for that week, you happened to look up for only a second, and you were suddenly locking eyes with Ellie.

Ellie, who had eyes that were glazed over, lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but couldn’t. Eyebrows knitted together as if she’d cry at any moment, begging, screaming for you to hear her, to see her.

Ellie, who immediately turns her head away from you, and keeps on walking.

Throughout the entire month of not speaking to Ellie, that was the single interaction you had with her. And now, you were expected to spend the holidays with her, her father, and the rest of your family. Pretending as if everything was okay, and none of this was keeping you up every single night since the party.

You tried your hardest to get out of the dinner your mom had planned.

You used every excuse in the book. You said your throat was hurting, meaning you must have been coming down with a cold, you complained that you had the worst headache, you even tried using the excuse of not bringing any appropriate clothes for a party.

But of course, your sweet parents did their best at convincing you that the party would be fun, and you’d regret missing it if you did.

You tried taking your time while getting ready, hoping that with some stroke of luck, everyone that was supposed to arrive would’ve flaked on the last minute, meaning you wouldn’t have to put on a tight dress and do your makeup for no reason. Once you heard your mothers squeals, paired with the front door creaking from upstairs, you knew that was out of the question.

You slowly made your way downstairs, kitten heels clicking against the wooden floorboards, the bottom of your white linen dress swaying a bit with you as you walked. It fit you perfectly, hugging your curves at the middle, little flower cutouts littering every other inch of the dress, a dainty little golden necklace resting against your chest, your hair styled perfectly, makeup even more so.

You smiled softly as you greeted some of the guests, all of them raving to your parents about how pretty you were, how much you’d grown, how they didn’t have a little girl anymore. The compliments swelled your heart, making your head big as you shook them off, trying your best to keep up with all of them. The guests were a good distraction, giving you the opportunity to act as your mothers mini me, handing out glasses of champagne and whiskey, giving everyone a warm greeting.

It was so much of a distraction, that you barely noticed your father opening the door for Joel and Ellie.

With how much she’d been avoiding you, you were almost convinced she wouldn’t come. Ellie was never one to go to places she didn’t want to, and Joel rarely forced her. He knew her boundaries, and so did she, and you were sure that as of right now, you were crossing every single one of them with just your existence alone.

Ellie catches sight of you first, once your father let her go of the big bear hug he gave her, her eyes were instantly searching for you.

She feels her breath hitch once she lays eyes on you, pushing your pretty hair past your shoulder, laughing softly at something someone that wasn’t fully visible to her was saying. You brought your champagne glass to your lips, sipping a bit of the golden, bubbly liquid.

Ellie had never been more jealous of a fucking glass in her entire life.

A few hours prior, Ellie had been pacing in her bedroom a few blocks away from your house. She didn’t know what to wear, she didn’t know how to act, she didn’t even know if she’d actually being going. Ever since the night at the party, Ellie had an unmistakable lump in her throat every time she thought about you.

Every time she thought about your lips on hers, or the way your moans sounded, or the way she’d stupidly avoided that nagging little voice inside her head for the past however many years, screaming at her about how pretty you are, about how good it felt to sleep in bed with you at night, at how fucking right it felt to simply be near you.

She thought about all the times the perfect girl for her was standing right there, and she somehow always passed her up for someone else.

Ellie’s initial reaction to everything was to run. She wanted to run from everything, from you, from Sofia, from her feelings. Everything that was complicated in her life was just another thing she needed to get away from, and it’s why you didn’t hear from her after that night. She made sure to make herself scarce, because she knew once she got in front of you again, she’d either say something ridiculous that would dig her into a deeper hole than she was already in, or she’d screw up and kiss you again because she simply couldn’t help herself.

She figured staying away was the best.

Fighting off her feelings was the way to go, and it’s what she did. She knew that eventually she’d have to face the music, but she opted for that later than sooner. She hoped that by the time she saw you again, you’d both be able to get over whatever it was that happened, sweep it under the rug and carry on like before.

Yet, here she was, facing the music like she knew she had to, and it wasn’t any easier than it was in the beginning.

You were always pretty, from the moment Ellie had found you on the playground as kids, she thought you were pretty. The way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, the way you hid your face behind the thick, frumpy turtle necks during the winter, only your cute cheeks and eyes visible, everything about you had always been so fucking pretty, there was no doubt about it.

But God…she had a tendency of forgetting how fucking breathtaking you were when you were like this. All dressed up, diamond earrings twinkling in the dim light of your home, lips tinted the most perfect shade of red, complimenting your skin tone, tugged between your teeth as you eagerly listened on in whatever conversation you were in.

Whenever you looked like this, only one thought came to Ellie’s mind. She’d think about you and her, in a nice big house, planning cheesy Christmas parties for people, wining and dining your guests, her strong arm snagged around your waist as she paraded around her beautiful wife, bragging about the shiny diamond ring she used to propose to you.

It was a selfish thought, but still one that lingered in the back of her mind. Whenever she couldn’t sleep, or got a little too high, it would pop up, and put a stupid smile on her face as she basked in the way her chest warmed up at the thought of making you her wife, the perfect timeline of friendship to lovers.

It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Ellie dreaming of you as her wife yet she’d brag about other girls to you constantly. Yeah, she didn’t get it either.

It was like a form of self sabotage, Ellie somehow feeling she’d never be enough for you. As your best friend, she wanted nothing but the best for you, because she knew you deserve it, and somehow she didn’t fit that category herself. She wanted desperately to, to be the one for you, to sweep you off your feet and show you what love is. It made her sick to her stomach even thinking about someone else doing it for you, anyone but her.

It was twisted, and selfish, and fucked up, and it was why you guys were drifting further apart than you ever had.

When Ellie finally decided to go to the party, she had it all planned out. She was going to get in, have a few drinks to loosen her up a bit, then she’d take you away and confess her undying love for you….

Or? She’d stare at you like a hawk all night, get too drunk and leave without uttering a single word to you, continuing her silent streak she had going.

The choice was in her hands.

You still hadn’t noticed her at that point, and once a few other guests had made their way to your front door to be greeted by your dad, and she noticed that you didn’t look their way either, she figured you were avoiding the front door like a plague, because you didn’t want to risk seeing Ellie.

And that was true, partially. You were half ignoring the door, and half enjoying your glass of champagne while speaking to one of your dads dearest friends. The alcohol made you feel warm, and it made it easier to have tunnel vision on anything but Ellie, allowing your fake smile to appear the slightest bit more real to the party goers, and that was good enough for them, and for you.

As much as you tried ignoring the door, you couldn’t ignore Ellie’s eyes burning into from different parts of the room. You could feel her gaze searing into you when your parents were greeting her, once again raving about how beautiful she’d gotten, how much they loved her tattoos. As much as you wanted to give in on her, and lock eyes with those green eyes you missed so much, you knew that was a bad idea.

You’d have to simply play dumb for the rest of the night

The party carried out better than you’d imagined.

You managed to avoid Ellie without being painfully obvious to everyone there that you were in fact avoiding Ellie, and you wanted to praise yourself for doing so. It was easy, busying yourself with guests, the alcohol turning you into the little social butterfly your parents always wanted you to be. Using the excuse of hopping from conversation to conversation made it easy to keep your focus on something for enough time, that you were able to completely ignore Ellie.

Being pulled in all sorts of directions, being called every time you stepped away to refill someone’s drink or grab another tray of snacks, you were the star of the show, as funny as that seemed to you. The attention you received would’ve made your head spin on any other given day, but right now, it was just what the doctor ordered.

Sure, there were a few awkward moments where Ellie made her way to the bar when you just so happened to be there. There were moments where her broad shoulders would brush past yours, almost pulling you out of your fantasy world completely, putting you at her mercy. There was even a moment during dinner where you were positive Ellie’s eyes were going to pop out of her head with how closely she watched you.

Through all of those things, and many other tiny little instances that were a bit too awkward for you to deal with, you prevailed. And honestly? It made you feel hopeful for your future in school. If you managed to ignore Ellie so flawlessly during a holiday party, all while maintaining the composure of not having her near? There was no way in hell you’d fuck up the same exact thing at school.

You didn’t need Ellie, and you were slowly proving that to yourself.

Once dinner was done, everyone stayed for only a bit longer, praising your mothers cooking skills, and the decorations in the house. Slowly, the guests started to leave, sleepy eyes and full bellies was all they needed to be sent home with sweet dreams and even sweeter desserts, courtesy of your mother. You felt the weight on your chest grow lighter and lighter with each person leaving, knowing that in due time, Ellie would be leaving as well. When you heard your father and mother walking Joel to the door, all three of them laughing like a group of teenagers after a rowdy night together, you bid the older man a goodbye and made yourself scarce. The kitchen had been cleaned, leftovers had been packed up and put away, and you were feeling far too warm from the liquor, and in desperate need of your bed.

Your heels clicked against wooden stairs as you made your way up to your bedroom, a soft huff leaving your lips as you reached behind your back, struggling to undo the annoying little clasp that held the back of your dress together near the zipper. Another puff of air blew passed your burgundy tinted lips once you reached your bedroom, kicking your slipper heels off as you continued clumsily fumbling with the back of your dress. At this point, you felt tempted to call it quits and sleep in the damn thing.

A soft knock on your door caught your attention, and you let out a sigh of relief as you walked over to it, knowing that it was most certainly your mother coming up to catch any late night gossip that you and her had caught within the night from some of the older ladies that attended.

“Thank god, i was waiting for you to come up. Can you help me with this, mom? I can’t get the clasp” you huff out softly, already turning around and reaching behind your back to fumble with the clasp before you can see who it is standing at your doorway.

Ellie’s eyes are shamelessly raking down your body, the girl swallowing thickly as she looks down at the swell of your ass under the taunt, linen fabric of your dress. The lack of your mothers voice makes you frown, and you quickly turn around to see what it is that has her so silent, but your face drops whenever you’re met face to face with Ellie instead.

Any cockiness that you felt regarding how well you’d ignored Ellie that night had disappeared, and was only replaced with silence as you stared into her eyes. Your throat goes dry, unable to find the words to say to her, and Ellie figures this is her chance.

“Um…your parents and my dad went to check out some holiday thing going on down the street…they asked if I wanted to come but I…figured I should come talk to you instead” she explains, and you simply stare at her dumbfounded, because the path of logic that lead her up to your bedroom is one that you seriously can't come to sympathize with, no matter how pitiful she looked staring into your eyes.

You inhaled deeply, eyebrows furrowed as you gave the girl an unamused look. A moment of silence passes between the both of you before you give her a shrug. "If you leave now you could probably still catch them" you hum out, the alcohol in your system making it far too easy to be rude to your best friend. She visibly deflates at your words, the tone on your tongue foreign to her ears. She was so used to you being so shy, so sweet, always welcoming her with there same sweet words you had for her.

"Look...We can't just carry on as if nothing happened. We need to talk about this...please", you hate the way your stomach does flips when she speaks, the girl practically pleading with you to hear her out. Begging to get a moment alone with you to simply reflect on everything that happened. In that moment, you realized that no matter what, no matter what she did to you, or what happened between the two of you...

You would always be weak for her.

Your gaze softens as you watch her, taking a deep breath before you silently step to the side, giving her the space to walk into your bedroom. The way her eyes shine when you do this doesn't go unnoticed, and those stupid fucking puppy dog eyes of hers are making you melt all over again, especially when she looks so happy just from you letting her into your room.

Ellie inhales deeply once she's in your room, looking around and taking it all in. She recalls all the many nights you two had spent there together, staying up late and watching corny movies, your eyes burning from being glued to the tv for too long. She remembers all the times she would follow you home after school, using studying as an excuse to spend a few more hours of the day with you. She remembers all of it, every memory, all the times you two spent together in that house, in your room. She smiles at the sight of the little flowers on your bedsheets, or the way your room had somehow perfectly preserved the sent of you, of your shampoo, of your favorite lotion, filling her lungs and almost making her feel dizzy. She makes a mental note that your room is definitely one of her favorite places.

And she hates that you two had come to whatever you were at now, creating bitter memories in such a sweet space.

The sound of your soft sigh cuts through her thoughts, and she quickly turns around to see you. Your arms were crossed over your chest, your face still with that unamused expression, making Ellie feel like you would rather be anywhere other than with her, like you couldn't wait for her to leave your bedroom, and it makes her heart sink completely, because out of all the memories Ellie had with you, none of them were ever filled with that face that you were making.

She clears her throat, awkwardly shifting her weight onto feet as she gives you a nod, as if answering a question that you hadn't even asked. "Sorry..um...let's sit?" She questions hopefully, and you shake your head, standing your ground with the girl.

"I'm fine here...and whatever you need to say to me can be said standing up" you mumble out softly. You knew deep down, that the second Ellie got you siting next to her, you wouldn't be able to fight back the urges you had to jump her bones. You would be lying if you said that you didn't think about her every night since the party. Her lips, her tongue, the way her hands felt roaming your body, keeping you close while you both slept. The memories you had with here were seared at the front of your brain, demanding to be acknowledged every waking moment of your day.

She frowns softly at your words, but gives you a gentle nod, understanding that this was just as hard for you as it was for her, if not more. Ellie takes a deep inhale, seemingly trying to find the right words to say, the right way to start off this entire conversation. She finds herself choking up, heart beating so fast she was sure you could hear it. You're making her nervous, and Ellie is finding it hard to separate the girl that has been her best friend for her entire life, from the girl that she was falling in love with.

And she finds it hard to figure out when those two things became one and the same.

"I broke up with Sofia." she blurts out, the words almost leaving her lips too fast to make a coherent sentence, but still, you catch every word perfectly. You stare at her for a moment before you scoff, you don't mean for the sound to come out as harsh as it does, but you don't have much control over your emotions at the moment.

"Is that supposed to change every thing? Is that supposed to make all of this okay, Ellie?" You question, the calmness of your voice almost scaring Ellie. She quickly shakes her head, stepping closer towards you, to which you take a step back, mirroring the morning after the party almost identically.

"No! Fuck..No, it isn't supposed to fix every thing..I just-" Although you agreed to hearing Ellie out, letting her into your bedroom for the sole purpose of letting her explain, you're cutting her off, because you truly cannot hold back anymore. You're tired of holding it all back, biting your tongue and forcing down what you felt for the sake of others.

"Do you not understand what you did? You sabotaged something that was....that was fucking good for me. Alex was so good for me, and you were so dead set on ruining that for me!" Your voice slowly begins to raise, and you are so thankful that your parents and Joel aren't in the house, because you're sure the neighbors can probably hear you.

Ellie opens her mouth again to speak, attempting to diffuse your anger, but you don't let her. "No, I have gone this entire time in silence, it's time I talk for once" you stop her, and Ellie is positive she's never seen you this angry in her entire life.

"You have known me, almost your entire life. You never once made any advances towards me, which is fine! I've watched you have multiple girlfriends who could not be any further away from what I am than they already are, and I never said a word. I have loved you from the moment I understood what love is, and I never said anything. I was okay with not being wanted by you, I was content with just being your friend, but suddenly you're stopping me from gettin into a relationship of my own? and using me to cheat on your girlfriend?" You started pacing as you spoke, your hands flailing about as you ranted, unable to even stop and realize that you had in fact just confessed that you loved your best friend.

You were just so tired. You were tired of feeling unwanted, of feeling like you were always the second option, never worthy enough to be the girl that was taken home to mom, always the girl that was picked last.

You were fucking tired.

Ellie feels like her heart seizes up when she hears those words, the ones that confirmed your feelings. She hears how tired you are, how broken you have become, at the hands of her doings, and she can feel that the love you have for her is slowly drifting as this situation prolongs.

"And...and I know I've never been that girl. I'll never be Sofia, I'll never be the girl that makes people do a double take when I'm walking down the hallway, Im not...that isn't me. And I was fine with that! I was fine with going unnoticed...but do you...do you know how hard it is to be placed second by the girl you're madly in love with? You made me feel so...fucking worthless of actually being wanted past a night of fucking" You're crying at this point, soft hiccups and sighs interrupting every other word, making it hard to breath, and making you sound all the more broken.

Ellie watches as you pace back and forth, ranting, crying, desperately trying to find answers for why she did what she did. Searching for the will to prove that you were worth it, that you were worth love.

She realizes that she destroyed any chance of you feeling worthy of love when she drove Alex away from you.

You finally stop pacing, turning towards her. The image of you breaks her heart, because your lashes are webbed together, eyes glossy with tears, cheeks soaked, chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath.

"You need to leave" You mumble out, voice trembling as you struggle to get the words out. Ellie simply stares as she watches you, shaking her head as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. "M'not going anywhere...I won't leave you again" She tries, her voice barely above a whisper. Your chin wobbles a bit as more tears threaten to spill onto your cheeks, your throat burning as you shake your head, your arms going up to wrap around your torso, as if you were keeping yourself from falling apart.

"Y-you need to get out of my house, Ellie...I can't...I won't allow you to break my heart anymore" The way you struggle to find a proper pattern of breathing and speech is a clear indication that you're on the verge of breaking down all over again, crumbling apart and letting your emotions get the best of you, and it hurts Ellie so much, she feels tears prickling at her own eyes as well.

She frowns deeply as she moves to step closer to you, watching as your head falls, staring at the floor of your bedroom, small whimpers leaving your lips. She takes the opportunity to get as close to you as she had the entire night, staring down at you for a moment before she hesitantly wraps her strong arms around your body, which results in a low sigh of relief from her, and more sobs from you.

"Can't leave you, angel...Im not making that mistake again" She mumbles softly, her words muffles as she presses her face against your head, her eyes fluttering shut as she takes a deep inhale of your floral shampoo.

And you can't even fight her off, not when your body is shaking as you sob in her arms, not when her holding you is the only thing that soothes the burn, soothes your aching heart of all the pain it had experienced, not only within the past month, but throughout the entire duration of your friendship with Ellie.

Ellie stands there for a moment, holding you as you cry, as you both cry. Somewhere within the time of hearing your soft little whimpers muffled into her shirt, tears began to spill onto her cheeks as well. Her strong arms ran up and down your back, keeping you close, thankful that you were at least letting her do this for you. Once you had calmed down a bit, you finally pull away slightly to look up into her eyes, your own red and puffy as you sniffle.

"I meant it Ellie...I can't...I won't do this with you anymore" You mumble softly, your heart swelling due to how fucking close she was. You could kiss her if you wanted to, the girl staring down at you and taking in all of your features.

She felt her heart break, because she knew you were referring to your friendship, but your words felt like it was an ending to so much more than that. It felt like she was losing her person, the one that was for her, her only love that she needed within her life.

Because she was.

She inhaled deeply, shaking her head slightly as she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "You know I can't leave...angel.." she hummed softly, and it made you eyebrows furrow. She felt your hands push against her waist, trying to pry your body from hers, trying your best to put more space between the two of you so that you could finally kick her out, and end whatever it was that was going on between the two of you.

And she realized, it was now or never.

"I can't do that, because i'm in love with you" she continued quickly, knowing she was running out of time to tell you how she felt. She knew that this was her last chance, and she had to use it accordingly.

The way your eyes widen as you stare up at her makes Ellie frown, because you look shocked. Is it really so shocking to believe that your best friend could love you just as much as you loved her, if not more?

You don't say anything, so she takes your silence as an opportunity to continue speaking.

"Since we were kids...I just...I didn't want to ruin things, and I always knew you deserved better than what I could ever offer, and you still do...But i'm selfish, and I can't ignore the way I feel when i'm around you" She mumbles out, trying to speak low so that you don't hear the way her voice begins to break the more she speaks about it.

You can see clearly that she's on the verge of tears, her green eyes glossing over with tears, her nose and cheeks flushing red as she bit down on her bottom lip, seemingly fighting back the tears as she squeezes your waist, trying her best to keep herself at bay.

"Im sorry..for everything that I've done...for making you ever feel like you were unwanted or undesirable when that couldn't be further from the truth...I was stupid, and I did things horribly and I've fucked up any chances I had with making you something more to me than friend...but I hope you can forgive me...because I can't...I can't do this without you" she whimpers out softly, the tears that she was desperately trying to hold back, already flowing down her freckled cheeks.

When she stares down at you, and your expression is so unreadable, and all you can do is stare back at her, she knows it's done. She knows that she shouldn't have come to bother you, and that she was better of leaving things as they were, but she can't help but feel a bit of relief that you now know the she loves you too.

And as her hands begin to loosen from your waist, and a soft sigh of defeat leaves her lips, you do something that you didn't think you would do in a million years.

You cup both your hands around Ellies face, and kiss her with every ounce of passion in your body.

It catches her off guard at first, but she doesn't waste much time in kissing you back. You can feel the way her slender fingers grip your waist tighter, desperately pulling you closer to her body as you kiss her passionately, your hands going up to wrap around her neck, basking in the love that you could feel pouring out of Ellie, and flowing straight into you.

She feels like her head is spinning, because she was sure she wouldn't ever feel your soft lips pressed against hers. You were the one that got away, and she had already made peace with that. But you were kissing her, and the passion was growing by the second, and you were slowly pushing her back towards the bed, and suddenly she has you again.

It's all a blur, because one moment you were yelling at Ellie, crying to her about how heart broken you were. Then she was apologizing to you, begging for your forgiveness, and now she's laying on your bed, with you straddling her as you kiss her passionately, slowly, simply enjoying the taste of each others mouths. Ellie's hands are roaming your body, squeezing your thighs, your middle, every where she can possibly touch you, she is. The kissing is slow, and sensual, and the sound of your tongues lapping against one another makes all of the heat in your body rush to your core.

Ellie groans softly when you break the kiss, opening her mouth to complain and pull you back to where she needed you the most, yet her words are dying down once she notices that you begin to kiss down her body.

You push her t shirt up a bit, kissing her hips gently before you settle between her legs, humming softly as you begin to undo the button of her jeans and tug them down her body. This makes Ellie frown, because as much as she can feel her aching clit throb at the mere thought of having your mouth on her cunt, she knows she doesn't deserve it. She doesn't deserve to have you there, so she props herself up on her palms, and tries to close her legs.

"Baby...wait...you don't have to-" You quickly cut her off, tugging her jeans more before you shake your head. "I've dreamed about doing this to you for years...please" you whine softly, staring up at her with wide eyes as you tug your bottom lip between your teeth. Ellie isn't strong enough for this, because you're settled between her legs, giving her the sweetest puppy dog eyes, biting down on your plush lips, and begging to eat her out. She knows she should be worshiping you, but god you are hard to say no to.

She simply raises her hips, aiding you in tugging her jeans off. She chuckles softly when she sees the way your eyes glimmer with excitement when she does this. You hum softly, leaning into her clothed core and pressing a soft kiss to it, the wet patch making you hum softly against her. "So pretty..." you hum softly, more so to yourself than her before you tug her panties to the side, far too eager to be faced with the job of taking them off.

You waste no time in pressing your lips to her soaked pussy, which forces Ellie to moan softly, her eyebrows furrowed with pleasure as she stares down at you, wanting to burn the image of you eating her pussy in her brain for the rest of her life. Your tongue pushes past your lips, lapping at her core, circling her clit, and it makes Ellie feel like she's going to lose her mind.

She feels her chest burn with a tinge of jealousy, because how the hell are you so good at that?

Your tongue pushing into her drooling hole makes all of those thoughts leave her mind instantly, and she's throwing back her head, moaning loudly for you as you begin to practically tongue fuck her.

"Ahhh...such a good fucking girl...eating my pussy so good..." her praises go straight to your core, forcing you to whine softly against her pussy. Ellie groans, her tattooed hand going to your head, keeping you close as she begins grinding against your face. "Mm..f-fuck...thats my fucking girl...fuck....wait...wait..Im close" she groans softly, trying to pull your mouth away from her. You don't budge though, eager to taste her release. You whine softly, your tongue rapidly moving against her clit. It makes Ellie groan, her eyebrows furrowing as she desperately began to shy away from your mouth, shaking her head as she tried catching her breath. "Slow down baby..I don't...I wanna cum with you..." She explains, and her heart breaks as you pout up at her, clearly displeased with her for not allowing you to finish playing with her pussy. It makes Ellie chuckle, and she slowly begins to pull you up, humming as she lets you straddle her lap. "Don't pout at me that way, baby...wanna do this right" She explained, looking up at you with hearts in her eyes, glimmering with adoration like a love sick puppy.

Her stare makes you whine softly, and her hand comes up to cup your cheek gently. "Will you let me make love to you? Is that okay?" She questioned, her voice low and soft, giving you full control of the situation, determining whether or not this would go any further.

And for a moment, you questioned what was best. You could have stopped this, crawled off of Ellies body and send her home, telling her that this was a mistake, and you should just stop being friends right then and there.

Or, you could simply let go. You could forgive her, and allow yourself all of the love you had ever wanted and craved from her, since you were a young girl. You could give into her, and let her love you the way you knew she could. Your heart still ached, and the scars that were left were still present, but they were fading, and every moment that you spent with Ellie, like this, in her arms, you felt as though she was exactly what you needed to feel better.

Ellie was mending your broken heart, and there was no way you'd let that go.

Without missing another beat, you give Ellie a soft nod before you leaned in, pressing the softest, sweetest kiss to her mouth. It makes her groan softly, because what did she ever do to deserve someone so soft, so forgiving, so fucking good.

She hums softly as she reaches behind you, undoing the claps of your dress before zipping it down and tugging it off your body, leaving you only in your panties before her. She gently pulls you against her body, your naked chest flushed against hers as she turns both of your bodies around so you were laying down with your back against your bed, and she was hovering over you.

She pulls back, sighing softly as her eyes raked down your body, taking you in like a work of art. She began tugging her own t shirt off, leaving her completely naked before you, before she reached down and snagged two fingers under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down as well.

She pressed her lip against yours, one of her hands coming down and grabbing your thigh so that your legs were spread. The kiss was sweet, and loving, and it made your head spin, distracting you from the way she began slotting herself against you, positioning her soaking wet core right against yours, the feeling making you moan softly into her mouth.

"I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you...my sweet girl.." She mumbled softly against your lips before she pulled away from you, straightening out her back a she stared down at you, one of your legs tossed over her shoulder, as she slowly began grinding her pussy down onto yours.

You had never felt anything like it. She was so wet, so soft against you, her velvety core slipping and sliding against yours, clit bumping against yours in a way that could only be described as euphoric. It made your back arch almost painfully.

Your eyes never left Ellie, because she looked like a goddess above you. Her features were so beautiful, the warm glow of the moon shining in through your window and illuminating them, so that she looked like something out of a fairytale. Her eyes were filled with love, her lips dragging against your calf, kissing you wherever she could as she stared at you, watching your every move, watching as your face contorted with pleasure.

"Look at you...you're a fucking dream...the perfect fucking girl for me" She moaned out, her hips slowly rolling, fucking her pussy down onto yours deliciously slow. You only nodded, whining softly as you grabbed her thigh, massaging her soft skin as you tried hanging on as long as you possibly could.

She smirked softly, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth as she moaned again. "You're so fuckin' cute...my pretty girl..." her voice was so low, words so slow, dripping with lust, want, need.

Love.

She was getting closer, and so were you. You could tell in the way she started to speed up, her teeth grazing against your leg as she began to get restless. Her eyebrows furrowed with pleasure. "I...fuck I love you so much...I have always loved you so fucking much" she moaned out, and this pulls a long, drawn out moan from your lips, which results in an encouraging nod from Ellie.

"L-love you so much, Ellie...always have" you whine out, struggling to form coherent and full sentences as you became prisoner to the pleasure Ellie brought you. She moaned softly, leaning down and pressing her body against yours, your pebbled nipples pressed against her own as she caught your lips in a passionate kiss.

"That's it baby...come on...cum for me...cum with me" she groaned against your lips, her hips moving faster as she chased both your orgasms.

You moaned loudly, pushing your tongue into Ellies mouth, wrapping you arms around her neck to keep her close, and allowing yourself to let go as your orgasm washed over you. It was intense, and euphoric, and blissful, and it felt like you were gettin hit by a bolt of lightening, because you felt your heart blooming with a love like no other.

It was different from the feeling of a crush, or what you thought was a love unrequited. It was hot, and electrifying and it made you feel alive again, it mended any broken feelings you had before the night had started, and even before that, and it made you feel like you were complete.

Ellie groaned against your mouth, her orgasm lining up with yours when she felt the way you pushed your tongue into her mouth, needy whines telling her all that she needed to know, that she had gotten you there, and she had shown you just how much she loved you.

You both laid there for a moment, wrapped in each others arms, trying to catch your breath. Ellie held you close, brushing the hair out of your face that had stuck to your skin during everything, she gave you gentle praises, bringing you back to earth with her. Soon, you were both tugging your blankets over your bodies, the chilly air making its presence known as it nipped away at your naked bodies.

You laid there, tangled up in each others embrace, kissing softly, and laughing lazily, exhaustion slowly taking over you both. You felt in your heart that this was all far different from the night at the party. This was filled with passion, and love, and it all started from a clean slate, where you two began to once again understand each other.

And as you fell asleep, you knew for a fact that Ellie Williams, was yours.

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

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literaila · 10 months

Text

still here

tasm!peter x reader

summary: there’s an ache in me, put there by the ache in you

(for @elysian-chaos)

warnings: angst, fluff, feeling unworthy, feeling useless, you know, seperation

a/n: ‘tis the damn season is the best song ever. dont argue

there's this little thing called stress baking.

typically, stress baking is referred to as coping by making something delicious to scavenge on, instead of dwelling on the feelings scavenging you. and typically, it's done with a certain type of elegance--one that is made up of chaos. completely insane, yet completely in control. it's a messy dance, but perfectly choreographed.

stress baking is a very reviving task. filling up the house with muffins and pies is not only good for distracting yourself, but also for making friends when you run out of room. or smiling at the cashier every time you have to go to the store for ingredients.

it's something you've practiced for years. something you've become somewhat addicted to.

but then there's baking while stressed. which, you swear, hadn't been your intention.

brownies from a box were supposed to be easy. they were notoriously easy. a couple of eggs, some oil, and some water. the hardest part of your job was mixing, but you'd done it so many times that you zoned out while doing all of it.

box brownies were supposed to be non-stress and quick. but when you burn the brownies and batter rises over the top of your glass pan, and the oven is dirty, and the apartment smells like burnt batter and oven cleaner--well, you have to reread the directions.

you're a good baker. you've been making cookies and cakes for parties for years. you pride yourself on not needing measuring cups because you can eye a recipe by the gram.

not that these brownies would agree.

and it's already five-forty-five. peter is going to be home in the next fifteen minutes and this was supposed to be a treat. something good.

"surprise! i ruined our oven, and now we're going to have to spend the next few nights at your aunt's house in your twin-sized bed until the smell of death goes away!" doesn't typically bring out any smiles.

and peter's been stressed lately, and you've been stressed about him.

and now you're making brownies from scratch without butter--because you used it all on the last batch, oops--and the number of candles you've lit is a sure fire hazard.

but if peter would just smile at you, pull you in by your waist and laugh while he kissed you with a chocolate mouth, it would all be fine.

if there wasn't so much riding on this one (two) pan(s) of brownies. like being able to sleep comfortably tonight.

you turned the oven down, found a new pan--threw the other one out because it was nothing but a source of disappointment--and cleaned the oven just enough to not draw any suspicions. but you could still feel the failure lurking.

peter was going to come home to a chaotic house, and it was your fault.

so you scrubbed at the counters. fixed the stack of bills on the table so that you couldn't see any of the stamps, folded the blankets, and even swept the kitchen floor.

still, you knew peter would know. because he always knows. and maybe that was why he was acting so weird lately--maybe that's why you were acting so weird.

the door opened when the timer on the oven went off.

you'd wanted to watch peter walk through the door--so you could gauge how tired he was, how miserable--but maybe it was better not to know. to let him put on a mask while your back was still turned.

"hey, baby," he said, as you were pulling the brownies out of the oven, setting his house keys on the counter and sighing. "i'm home."

you peeked over your shoulder, giving him a hint of a smile--the same type he was giving you. "hey, honey," you said back, "you're home."

peter walked around the island to stand right behind you, kissing the back of your head and stealing a look over to the stovetop. he clears his throat. "brownies?"

you shrug. "thought you might like something sweet when you got home."

you take off the oven mitt, not really wanting to look at him--maybe because you're scared of what you'll see, or maybe just because you can already feel his eyes tearing down your skin.

but you can feel his breath on your neck as he chuckles. his exhaustion as he leans into your back.

"i've already got you, though," he whispers one peck at the edge of your jaw, another by your ear.

you snort and pull away, turning so you can look at him. and then you pretend to throw up.

he laughs and pokes your forehead.

you're not looking at him and he's not looking at you.

you turn back to the brownies.

"did you drop something in the oven?" peter asks, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

"no," you answer, a bit too defensive.

"sure?"

"am i sure that i didn't burn something in the oven, peter? yes."

there's a beat. "...cause it smells like it."

you headbutt him. "you smell like it. go shower. you can't eat these yet."

"yes, ma'am," peter takes a step back, and you look at him again. you can see the question in his eyes, and see your own reflecting the same question.

what are you hiding?

"we have some ice cream, too."

peter moans, his head back. you roll your eyes at him.

and you start cutting the brownies, worries, and chocolate chips sticking to the knife, listening to peter's footsteps, feeling his presence sticking to you like sugar, sticky and rich, his eyes keeping you on edge.

you know you shouldn't feel stupid--peter doesn't actually know what happened, or care--but you do. because he knows, and because even from the split second you looked at him, you could see the strain on his skin, the pressure weighing him down, dragging his feet across the floor.

you feel stupid just because you don't know what to do. so before he can close the door, you turn around. choosing reaction instead of pretending.

"peter?"

he pauses, his head whipping towards you. his eyes are as soft and loving as they always are--his attention remains the same, even when his energy doesn't. like he's wasting himself away just to take care of you.

he swallows. "yeah?"

"are you--" you blink, look away, try not to taste burnt brownies. "are you okay? you seem tired. was work… alright?

peter smiles, shaking his head. "just the usual, bub. work and... work. i think i'll go to bed early tonight?"

you raise a brow.

peter clears his throat. "i mean, i think i'll take a nap tonight before i go out."

you nod. "okay."

you both stare at each other for a moment. he's far enough away that it's easier. you don't have to feel his emotions as he processes them. don't have to see them from up close.

you hate yourself for being afraid of him. for being afraid for him.

“d’ya want to join me?” peter asks, whisper slipping from his mouth, smile taunting from his lips. “we can cuddle and eat brownies.”

you lick your lips, shaky smile enough. “you sure? i’ve heard i can be a bit distracting…”

peter’s laugh makes his shoulders shake. “you heard correctly,” he says eyes crinkled, “but i don’t mind.”

you nod. you’re grateful for his ease. the careful reveal of his true face, the peeling of a mask. the admittance that not everything is perfect, no matter how small.

“go shower. i’ll get the sugar.”

peter kisses you on the cheek before he goes.

and at least you got a couple of smiles out of him. at least you can feel his kiss lingering on your skin.

it's not that serious. honestly.

you hardly even think about it. you're not thinking about it.

you're not dwelling on the smell of soft skin and the feeling of calloused hands running up and down your back, the tickle of a breath against your neck.

you're not thinking about it at all.

and if it's been a week--or a week and a half, or two, or three--since you last spoke, or shared the same space with peter, then it's fine.

this is something you've grown used to. something you're supposed to be used to.

peter has obligations.

he has things he needs to fulfill--not just for himself, but for others, for the guilt that you can see rocking his bones all of the time, the shame in his eyes when he comes home a bit too early. he has places that he needs to be, if only because he won't be able to live with himself if he's not there.

but then again, you're not sure how to live when he's not here. especially when the sink breaks.

still, as long as you can feel him pull you into his chest every night, imagine him kissing your forehead before falling asleep, then it's fine.

you're not thinking about any of it because it's fine.

but you miss him. if only momentarily.

he'll come back--you repeat this like a promise, like it's his voice whispering it to you--because he always does.

space is good for the heart, some part of you swears. though you don't think you could think of peter any fonder than you already do.

he comes in too late at night and is already gone when you wake up. he texts you updates--because you've talked about communication before--and tells you that he loves you through sweet little notes he sends during the day.

if the thing he wishes to share about his life is the worm he found in his apple, then you're perfectly happy to listen (read).

it's normal to miss the person you love most in the world.

and it's normal for your boyfriend to disappear for fourteen hours each day, just barely cuddling with you for three hours before he's gone again.

it's normal for you, at least

he’ll come back.

and so, instead of thinking about peter, and wondering when he might notice the frayed edges of your relationship, you make sure that he doesn't have to worry about anything.

you clean up after the two of you, running the dishwasher and cleaning the bathroom, and packing him lunch on days you know he'll be gone for the office. making sure there's always something he can eat in the fridge when he gets home late at night, and texting him to know what he wants from the store.

you make the bed and wash his clothes and hope that maybe it'll keep him from burning out.

you hope that maybe it will keep you distracted enough to not ask him for anything. like love or support or a five-minute conversation.

if taking care of him is the only way to keep him going--the only way to keep yourself going--then you'll do it. peter takes care of you enough.

but even if you're not thinking about it, it's there.

because you've just fallen asleep--which is extremely rare recently, mostly because you like to wait until you hear the window and then slow your breathing until you feel peter crawl into bed with you--and just woke up.

woke up with sweaty skin and a headache. it's night ten and you're getting nightmares again.

it's ridiculous that you can't even last two weeks without peter there. without him kissing you to sleep.

and when you burst out of bed, you almost fall into him--almost scream because you're sharing the bed with someone else.

tears are running down your face. your heart feels split open--like your dreams have revealed something inside it.

but you look over to peter and he's there; he's still here.

so you take a deep breath--chest caving in, body following--and you rest your head in your hands.

if there's anything you want right now, it's for peter to wake up.

it's for him to know all of this.

you want him to appear next to you, leaning over your back like he's going to shelter from the world if that's what you need. rubbing your back and whispering in your ear. you want him in your house and laughing when you break the shower rod again.

you want him to cuddle with you before he leaves, and cross his heart when you scold him while he crawls out the window.

you want him in more than just your memory.

but peter is snoring next to you, and so you sit there in silence until the tears begin to ease.

peter's not supposed to be home.

he works until five, and then takes the subway home--and you're not expecting to see him anyway. he's been shoving his suit into the bottom of his backpack right as you pull it out of the hamper.

so it's not that unusual for you to be laying in bed, shoes and socks kicked across the floor, hands gripping for some stability, and eyes puffy and red.

and it's not that unusual for you to squeak when the window opens, and spider-man's head peeks into your room.

you can feel peter's wide eyes behind the mask.

you're quick to wipe your face, throw on a clumsy smile. "peter," you say, exhaling. "what're you doing here?"

a body crawls into the window, dirt and grime on clothes finger-tips reaching out to you. "what's wrong?" he asks, voice only slightly muffled.

but you take a step back, moving away from him when he lands on the floor, leaving spots for you to vacuum up later.

"what're you doing here?" you repeat, voice a bit harsher, a bit faded.

"i need--" he reaches his hand out toward you again, retreating when you do. "i needed some more web fluid. i don't--" he shakes his head. "what happened?"

"i, um," you wipe traitorous tears away again. "i think there's some more in the closet. i keep moving it when i'm cleaning, sorry."

"you're crying," peter scolds. like you're being ridiculous. like you're not trying to save him the effort it's going to take to fix this irrational piece of you, these lonely broken bits.

you bite your lip and look away.

because although you can't even see his eyes--they are still scolding. they are quick and cruel reminders that you haven't talked to peter in two weeks.

you turn towards your bedside table, pretending to organize the contents on top.

you can hear peter moving.

"what's going on, bub?" he says, soft enough for the words to crawl under your skin. he's taken the mask off. his voice is clear.

"oh, nothing, you know," you pause, shrugging. "just the usual sad movie type of cry..." peter's hand reaches your back and you flip around, almost knocking over your lamp.

"c'mon," he whispers to you, far closer than you'd been expecting.

you try and take a step back, only meeting a dead-end. he's cornered you. "you should go, peter. you were just--"

"this is more important."

you laugh. "some silly tears are more important than a collapsing building?"

"you're more important," peter swears, his eyes so focused on yours, "to me."

you blink and shake your head. gesture back towards the window. "go and save some people. you don't have to help me too."

peter swallows, brows furrowed. "will you tell me what's wrong?"

"i can take care of myself, peter. you don't need to worry about it."

"well, i'm going to."

you roll your eyes. and then you break free of his hold, moving away from the table, from the cage he's built around you. "move along, spider-man."

peter doesn't move any closer, but his limbs are tense. his face is concerned and hurt--you try and shield that out.

"i'm not leaving you when you're crying."

"i'm not crying anymore."

peter scowls. "stop deflecting."

you take a deep breath, throat dry and aching. "i'm not--" you clear your throat, shaking your head and looking away from him. "i'm fine, peter. but some people actually need you. go and save the day," you tell him. "i'll still be here when you come back."

and you are.

you're sitting on the couch, staring at photos peter took on the wall, wondering how to explain any of it.

how to explain yourself without digging the two of you any further in this hole.

you've been trying to prove just how little you need peter--just how useful you could be--and by doing so, you've put yourself in this situation.

because you do need him. you just hadn't wanted peter to know that.

so you're sitting on the couch, trying not to flinch every time the air conditioning comes on, or there's a footstep from the apartment above you. you're waiting for peter to climb in through the window, waiting to see how exhausted he is before he has to deal with you.

and you've bitten your lip raw. completely eliminated any evidence of fingernails you once had.

your heart stutters with every minute that comes by.

and when you finally hear peter hop in from the fire escape, your heart stops completely.

you wonder if he's going to change before he comes and finds you. before the inevitable happens, and you give him another reason to work so late.

your restlessness must be audible because it only takes peter forty seconds before walking into the living room. he's wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt.

he's wearing a frown like a well-tailored suit. known and made for him.

you're trying not to frown back.

"hey," you say, putting on a smile, voice flighty and an octave too high. "everything okay?"

"no one got hurt," peter says, the antonym to your tone.

"good."

apparently, your tight-lipped smile isn't enough to ease the tension in the room.

"are you ready to talk?" peter asks, slowly stepping toward you, just barely meeting your eyes.

you'd scrubbed your face after he left. sobbed in the shower as you washed away any of the shame you hadn't meant for him to see. you'd made sure that your eyes weren't puffy, and your eyelashes were dry before he'd got home.

so when peter scans your face--as he's doing now--he shouldn't notice anything unusual.

besides the facade you're putting on.

you clear your throat, eyebrows lifted like you're unconcerned. "there's not much to talk about."

peter's sullen face doesn't move an inch. "why were you crying?"

"i already told you. i watched a sad movie," you wave a hand, "you just came in at the wrong time."

peter sighs. he sits down on the couch next to you, keeping his distance. "don't lie."

you frown. "i'm not lying."

"you've got some pretty obvious tells, you know," peter whispers, giving you a hint of a bittersweet smile. "you don't have to talk to me. but i'd like it if you did. i just want to make sure that you're... okay."

"i'm fine, peter."

he looks away. "and if you're not then we'll figure it out. i just want to know."

"well, you do."

peter opens his mouth, then closes it, shaking his head.

he's sitting three feet away from you, but his hands are clasped together, his legs are opposite of yours, and he can't even look at you.

you can feel it, as you push him away. as you try so desperately to hold him close without touching him.

"okay," peter says, eyes meeting yours again. "i don't want to push you."

no, but he should pull you off of this ledge. should keep you from falling any further than you already have.

you shake your head, laughing. it's not funny.

"what?"

you close your eyes. count to ten. forget how to breathe, or how to speak to the person you love most in this world.

"what?" peter repeats, but softer.

you open your eyes.

and then it all crumbles.

you scoff. "can you stop looking at me like that?" you plead, breaking away, physically distancing yourself from him.

"like what?"

it's his fault, really, for coming home so early in the day.

"like you can't deal with this. like this is exhausting."

the tears sneak up on you, knocking you out before you even notice that they're there.

peter's eyes are wide as he stares at you. "you're not--" he swallows, frantically reaching towards you. "this isn't exhausting--i'm not--" a moment, tears beginning to fall. "what do you--"

you sigh, shaking your head. "you're always gone, and you come home exhausted every night after you think i've fallen asleep, and you only talk to me through text, and even now you just--" you stop, voice breaking. "if you can't do this," you say, softly, "then you should just tell me."

peter is closer than he was a moment ago. "what?"

"i know this is a lot of work, okay? and i know that you're already pushing yourself, so it's fine if i'm too much. if--if loving me is too much."

there's a moment of silence, and you're almost sure that peter has already left.

but then there's a thumb wiping a tear from your cheek. you can't open your eyes, can't face the reality you've been desperately holding off.

"you're not too much."

peter moves closer to you, his leg touching yours, his hands moving so that he can hold you closer.

you couldn't push him away if you tried.

"you're not too much," he repeats, the words sinking into your skin, his breath meeting yours. "i can't believe you would think that."

you half laugh, half sob. peter wipes away those tears too.

"you're the only thing keeping me going," he tells you, kissing your forehead. "i'm sorry i haven't been there. i didn't realize..." he shakes his head.

"you shouldn't have to take care of me as much as you do," you whisper.

peter nudges his head against yours. "hey. you take care of me way more than i take care of you. you clean up after me and stay up with me when i can't sleep. you help fix my suits, and do all of the laundry. and you never complain. you're practically my guardian angel."

"that's all easy."

"not for me," peter says, voice lighter than before.

you shrug.

"but you do all of that cause you love me," he adds, kissing your forehead again. "or, i hope that's why."

"it's the sex."

peter laughs, nuzzling his head into you. "well, at least you're honest. but, it's the same reason that i take care of you. you shouldn't feel... guilty because of that. you're no burden on me."

"no?"

"absolutely not."

you bite your lip. try and believe peter. but honestly, you're most lovesick from how close he's holding you. how you can feel his skin and listen to him speak somewhere that isn't your bed. you're not quite sure that this isn't a dream.

"hey," peter moves his head so you're looking at him. "we suck."

you laugh, leaning your forehead against his.

"i'm sorry it's been so long since we've... anything. it's been a rough couple of weeks."

"for me too. it's not your fault."

"you have to tell me if it's not enough, okay? i don't want you to suffer through it by yourself. if you need to talk to me--even for ten minutes--then you have to let me know."

"okay."

"do you promise?"

you nod against him, nose brushing his cheek. "i promise, peter."

peter smiles, satisfied. he groans, pulling you even closer to him. "i love you, bug. so much."

you can barely hear him because of how tight he's hugging you. it sort of hurts, but mostly heals.

"i know," you say back. but peter probably can't hear you, because you say it right into his shirt.

my masterlist here.

tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon @moo-b1tch @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff @hollandweather @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan @valvlry @imthatcoolmom @spideysimpossiblegirl invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @sharkswaters @rowniebow @anaislfbv @take-my-hand-time-boy @mileyc111 @starsval @ratsys

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