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#like this girl wears her heart on her sleeve and he's like “whats a sleeve” fuckin dumbass
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We’ll Always Have Chelsea
I'm Bright Baby Blue, Falling Into You
Chelsea!Roy Kent x Coach's Daughter!Reader
1.7k words
Warnings: Language, lying/sneaking around, no Ted Lasso characters except for Roy, extremely protective father, angst, maybe some slut-shaming
A/N: Thank you for all the love you've shown this story! Let's consider this a "mid-season finale" of sorts. I'm currently working on the second half of this story, and once it's complete I'll resume posting it. Feel free to send asks and questions about the Chelsea!Roy universe in the meantime; it seriously keeps me motivated!
(And thank you to @kissykissymouth for the chapter title!)
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“Let’s go, Roy-o!” you shrieked from your seat as the announcers called his name in those booming voices that echoed through the stadium.
Katie rolled her eyes playfully as she clapped along with the roaring crowd. “You are the most obvious human being I’ve ever met, you know that?”
“I can afford to be obvious now,” you said with a smile. When Katie quirked a curious eyebrow at you, you leaned in close. “He asked me to make things official last night.” You sounded like a silly little teenage girl, all giddy and delighted over a boy, and you didn’t care one bit. “To be his girlfriend. To stay together even after I’m back at uni. That whole thing.”
Her smile was soft and genuine. “Oh, that’s so great!” she gushed as she grabbed your hand. “Now we can plan some real double dates. Go out on the town, all four of us.” Her glee faded as she studied you for a moment. “But what about your-”
“We’re telling him after the match.” For the first time since Roy climbed back out your window in the early hours of the morning, you felt confident in the idea of telling your dad. This wasn’t just a summer fling anymore; it was something real, something that would hopefully last.
And your dad was going to have to figure out how to deal with it.
Katie let out a low whistle. “Well, good luck with that,” she hummed, giving your hand a squeeze. “Let me know if you need help planning Kent’s funeral.”
You gave her a friendly shove and turned your attention back to the pitch, not bothering to hide the way you couldn’t keep your eyes off of Roy. In a few hours, your dad would know, and there would be no reason to keep anything a secret from anyone. You’d be able to come to every match and proudly wear Roy's name on your back, the way all the wives and girlfriends did, and wrap your arms around him when he emerged fresh from the showers. He could take you to post-match celebrations and charity events and any of the fabulous places a fella like him would take his girl. And you’d be able to bring him home, have him spend time with your family, properly introduce him to your mates.
As long as your dad didn’t kill Roy first.
~
After the match- a flawless 4-0 Chelsea victory, much to your relief- you lingered by Katie’s side to wait for the men to come out of the changing room. When was the last time your palms were this sweaty or your heart raced this fast? Every time a player walked out the door, your mouth went dry, wondering when it would be Roy. Somehow, you just knew that his sparkling brown eyes would be enough to calm all your nerves.
Jules emerged with a smirk on his face. After kissing his wife, he quirked an eyebrow at you. “Kent’s pretty jealous.”
“What makes you say that?” you huffed, pretending you weren’t utterly pleased at the mere mention of Roy's name.
Jules tugged on the sleeve of your kit playfully. “Apparently he doesn’t like that you wore my kit instead of his today.” He quirked his eyebrow. “Mumbled something about his girlfriend being unsupportive already.” His eyes shifted to a grinning Katie before returning to you. “Want to explain to me why the hell Kent’s calling you his girlfriend, princess?”
“Because she fucking is.” Roy smirked down at you, his fingertips twitching as he shot you a wink. “And at our next match, there better be a six on your back, gorgeous.”
You beamed up at him. “You were great today, Kent.” Fuck, you wished you could grab him and kiss that smirk. Next time, you promised yourself as the two of you batted your eyes at each other, probably making the married couple roll their own eyes. Next time you’d be wearing his kit, and you’d be able to greet him with a girlish squeal and a kiss. You’d get to finally be Roy Kent’s girl.
All you had to do was break the news to your dad.
“Your dad’s already in his press conference,” Roy murmured with raised eyebrows. “Should we… go wait in his office?”
There was that dryness in your throat again. “Yeah,” you managed, blinking rapidly. “Guess we should.” You offered Katie and Jules a tight smile. “We’ll see you guys later.”
“Good luck,” Katie called in a sing-song voice as you and Roy turned to walk down to the coaching offices.
Sure enough, your dad’s office was empty and dark. You flipped on the light and turned on his television, greeted by his face as he sat in front of the crowd of reporters. His normally stern expression was relaxed as he answered questions about the match, clearly glowing from such a great win. If there was ever a day to tell him that you were dating his completely off-limits star midfielder, it was today.
Roy leaned against the edge of your dad’s desk, next to the framed photo of you and your brother that sat by your dad’s computer. Roy took your hand and tugged you to stand close to him, pressing the tiniest kiss to your temple as his thumb stroked the back of your hand.
“It’s gonna be fine,” he whispered.
You gulped and nodded, keeping your eyes trained on your dad’s face. “I know.”
“-performed very well today,” your dad was saying as he picked up the water bottle that sat beside a microphone. “For goodness’ sake, the man scored two goals today. Don’t know what all this is about a slump. I hope all the fellas fall into this kind of a slump.” He chuckled good-naturedly and pointed off-camera. “Next question.”
“Moving on from today’s match,” a cautious voice called out. “Coach, what d’you have to say about those photos of Roy Kent and…” The reporter cleared his throat. “… your daughter?”
For a moment, your father’s face was bright red as he set down the unopened water bottle. “I’m sorry?”
Your blood ran cold while the reporter continued. “There are photos of them at a casino. They were with, uh, Jules and his wife.” He cleared his throat again. “They were quite cozy.”
“Fuck.” Roy squeezed your hand and tore his eyes away from the television. “I-”
“I don’t comment on my players’ private lives.” Your dad’s jaw was tight as he sat up at his full height. “Especially Roy Kent.” His laugh rang hollow in your ears. “If I commented on every rumor about that kid’s love life, I’d never have time to manage this team.” He moved to stand, not quite looking at the camera. “Now, if there’s no more football-related questions, I think we’re done here.”
Roy let out a low growl and switched the telly off. “Well, fuck.”
“You should leave,” you murmured, looking into Roy’s panicked eyes. “Seriously, Roy. This is so much worse than we thought. It might be better if you go.”
He shook his head. “Fuck no.” He let go of your hand in favor of wrapping his arm around your waist. “We said we’re doing this together,” he said slowly. “So, we’re doing this together. I’m not going to be the kind of prick who runs away when things get hard.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “And this is going to be so fucking hard.”
The two of you flinched when you heard doors slam and feet stomping. Instinctively, Roy removed his hand from your hip, but he stayed close enough for you to feel his warmth. A smart move, you had to admit. A smarter move would be for him to run away from Stamford Bridge altogether, to never speak to you again, but you were glad he stayed. Something besides fear swelled in your heart when you realized that Roy was sticking by your side, even in the face of your father.
Your father, whose raised voice you could hear down the hall. “Where the hell is my kid? And where the fuck is Kent?”
Your entire body trembled as his footsteps came closer, finally stopping in front of the open door of his office. His eyes widened when he took in the sight of you, standing far too close to Roy Kent in the office that held framed photos of your childhood and crayon drawings from over a decade ago. He stormed in, ignoring you in favor of grabbing Roy by his t-shirt.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Kent?” he barked. “All the fucking models and actresses in London, and you decide to shag my daughter?”
Roy shook his head frantically, hands up in defense. “Coach, it’s not like that-”
“Get the fuck out, Kent.” He released Roy and pointed to the door. “Before I take a real good look at your contract.”
You found your voice. “Daddy,” you said shakily. “Roy’s not going anywhere.” You reached down and intertwined your fingers with Roy's, ignoring the player's wide eyes. “We’re dating, Dad. Me and Roy.” You gave Roy’s hand a squeeze. “We-”
“One rule.” Your dad’s voice was low, filled with anger. “I had one rule for you hanging around here. No. Footballers.” He pointed at Roy. “Especially that one.” He shook his head at you. “What were you thinking?"
“I’m thinking I care about Roy and he cares about me.” You gripped Roy’s hand like it was a lifesaver. “And I’m thinking I’m an adult. You can’t tell me who I can and can’t date. I’m not sixteen anymore.”
Your dad’s eyes were full of rage and pain as he stared at you, looking at you like you were a complete stranger. “You’re sure acting sixteen, sneaking around behind my back.” He shook his head, eyeing Roy with disgust. “But you’re right. You’re apparently all grown up now. Do what the fuck you want.” He grabbed his bag from behind his desk and made his way to the door. “Besides, you’ll be back at school soon enough.” His gaze was steely, lacking any of the usual affection he sent your way. “And Kent’ll be back to his normal self. Once you're gone, he'll be right back to his models. Maybe then you’ll realize I was right about him all along.”
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Taglist:@gee72sstuff@book-of-roses@kissykissymouth@emmy2811 @hart-kinsella @klaine-92@dearvoidgoodnight@misshall14@issieruby@royal-sunflower@kissmekent@itswhateveripromise@slaymybreathaway@darkmagazineblaze@larascorneroftheworld@infinetlyforgotten@caught-the-feels@rae4725@sisinever@cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782@dd122004dd@veryprairieberry@spacecluster@dark-academia-slut@her-fandom-sanctum@wosokirby @mmmgl29 @aadu2173
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miusato · 22 days
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Bro said not to talk to him anymore and then hours later he says wants to talk like why are boys so complicated????
Anyway its based off this dumb screenshot meme lol
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235uranium · 2 months
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maaaan maruki is such a great villain and in a game that initially didn't have well written villains
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bettysupremacy · 10 months
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Thank you for letting me know:) Could you (if you get the chance) please write Grumpy Rafe x a like really sweet, shy, adorable like innocent reader? But like he finds her really cute? Could be anything else you want! I just like grumpy x sunshine :)
hey babe! Sorry this took me so long to get to, I hope u like! This is my fav rafe trope
“This is such bullshit.” Rafe grumbles.
Of course his plans had been derailed. Big empty house, summertime, pretty girl to himself, of course his friends dragged him away.
Your head peeks from the bathroom wall. “Hm?” It struggles out, your lips coated in toothpaste, your mouth occupied with a dangling toothbrush. You look so cute in your little outfit, he feels guilty for wanting you to get back into your pajamas. To forget your friends ever texted you at 9:30pm on a Saturday with Drinks? ;)
His hand waves in the air dismissively. “Nothing.”
You nod, slipping back into the bathroom to finish your tasks.
He rifles through his drawers messily, unsure of what he’s actually looking for. “Goddamn Kelce.” He mutters, quieter than last time. “Goddamn Topper.”
He can’t believe his perfect plans have been ruined, can’t believe he’ll have to share you. His head shakes in disbelief as he quits with the drawer, moving to wait for you by his bed. He cannot go out tonight.
You pop out of the bathroom, toothpaste replaced by a softer, pinker, shine to your lips. Rafe represses the urge to thumb at it as you walk over to wrap your arms around him tightly. Ear pressed to the warmth of his shirt covered chest, you can hear the aggravated thump to his heart.
“M’sorry.” You mumble.
He pulls back until your face is in view. His fingers work to smooth a piece of your hair. “For what?”
You lean into the touch. “I know you didn’t want to go out tonight.”
Oh. He can’t hide the distain crumpling his features. “No,” he grumbles. “I don’t.”
You smile weakly. “But we‘ll have fun.”
“You will.”
“Not if you’re miserable.”
He sighs, greatly heavy, shaking his head. “I won’t be miserable.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” His eyes roll. “as long as you sit on my lap.”
He nearly preens at the sound of your laugh. “I don’t think the bar stools are big enough for lap siting, baby.”
He deflates dramatically, his head falling to your shoulder. “Than what is the point.”
You smile, though he doesn’t see, his eyes hidden in the softness of your dresses sleeve. “Getting some drinks with friends who wanna catch up.” Your hand comes up to scratch his scalp the way he likes. He does preen this time.
He’s silent, breathing in the scent of the moisturizer he’d bought you last week. He grumbles incoherently.
“Me too.” You nod. You feel him grin against your shoulder.
Lifting his head, he ducks down, eye level with you. “Let’s just stay home, baby.” He whispers, nosing at yours.
Your eyes flutter, the hopes of a kiss working it’s way in. “You know we can’t do that.”
He sighs softly into you. “Why not?”
“Because,” You start with a pout, your hands sliding from where they rest on his waist, up onto his warm grumpy cheeks. “You haven’t seen Top in a month,” his nose twitches. “and he misses you.”
“Please don’t bring up Topper when I want to kiss you.”
You laugh, warm and syrupy, flushing at the insinuation of kissing. “I get a kiss?”
“You always get a kiss.” He breezes, leaning down to press his lips to yours.
It’s soft and sticky, a string of your pinky lipgloss connecting you two obscenely when you’re the one to pull back.
“R’you wearing the sticky stuff?” He murmurs.
“Yes,” you nod quietly. “It lasts longer.”
“So I’m gonna have pink shit all over my lips for the next thirty minutes?”
“No,” You giggle quietly. “a wet cloth will do the trick.”
“In that case.” He shrugs, leaning down to reward your lips with three rapid kisses before a fourth, longer, softer kiss.
You stifle a smile when he pulls back. “What?” He grins.
“Your lips are all sticky.” Your thumb wipes some shine from the corner of mouth. He puckers his lips.
“Maybe it’ll make me as pretty as you.”
Your nose wrinkles at his corniness.
“Or maybe I need more.” He leans in.
You push his face away from yours. “I can’t kiss you when you’re like this.”
“Lovely?” He murmurs. “The nicest boyfriend ever?”
“Corny.” You laugh at his offended expression, shrieking when he tackles you to the bed. “You maniac!”
He pulls your hair from your eyes, the gesture softer than your loud shriek moments before. It’s quiet as you breathe in tandem. His eyes rake over you appreciatively, and something in your belly twists for another kiss.
“I think” he starts,dropping his face down to nose at your collarbone. “I wanna kiss you again.”
Your eyes droop, the warmth of his body and love seeping into you. “I think” you start like him, murmuring into his ear. His ear tickles from the warm air. “I wanna stay home.”
“I did it!” He pops up, his arms caging you in.
Your chest rises in rapid giggles. “Shut up!”
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comradekatara · 3 months
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i feel like the reason aang isn’t as adored and beloved as he should be is because he’s the protagonist but he’s also not an archetypal western classical hero. i don’t agree with the entirety of that “avatar aang: feminist icon” essay because i think the role of patriarchy and gender in atla is more complex than what that essay posits, but he definitely complicates the masculine ideal of heroism and generally does not conform to patriarchal notions of masculinity. which is very deliberate, especially as contrasted with sokka and zuko’s explicit struggles with the imperialist/colonial standards of an aggressive, militaristic, and chauvinistic masculinity. aang is subversive because he represents an absence of war in a world ravaged by it. through his link to a (somewhat more) peaceful and harmonious past, he represents a better possible future. as katara would say, he brings people hope.
but people don’t like that he’s not visibly edgy or tormented like zuko is (even though he’s a far more tragic character than zuko is, just fyi), that he isn’t “cool” (even though he’s literally the coolest kid ever, just fyi), that he “gets the girl” (even though if anything, she gets him) despite being twelve and bald and nice (the horror!). katara is the more classical hero of the narrative, as its narrator and its catalyst, the adventurous revolutionary who gradually learns to control and use her powers and eventually becoming a force to be reckoned with. zuko is the classical anti-hero of the narrative, his “redemption arc” constantly hailed as one of the greatest character arcs in television. so people expect katara and zuko, as very obvious narrative foils who parallel each other every step of the way, to be the obvious couple, because based on every romance narrative we’ve been inundated with throughout our lives, within our patriarchal society, they “just make sense together.”
but as much as katara is a protagonist in her own right, aang is the show. the title quite literally represents the central thematic tension of the entire narrative, the colon illustrating the implicit divide between his duties to this brave new world in desperate need of justice and balance, or his duties to his extirpated culture as the last true voice among them. aang is the central figure because this tension represents the crucial ideological battle happening across the entire show. aang is the avatar because he is the only person in the entire world whose values have not been shaped by war.
people constantly laud zuko, in particular, for being the most interesting, complex character in avatar. but i personally don’t even think that’s true. which isn’t to say that zuko isn’t fascinating in his own right, of course, but rather that he’s certainly not the only complex character this show has to offer. he just happens to monologue about his anguish constantly. but aang wasn’t raised as an imperial prince, and so he approaches the world, and his own pain, in a very different manner. the reason he immediately goes to ride giant koi on kyoshi island, mailchutes in omashu, and otherwise goofs around after learning of the shocking ramifications of his people’s genocide is because that’s how he copes with his pain. unlike zuko, who never stops talking about his aches and yearnings, aang represses his trauma and hides his tears behind a mask of upbeat cheerful goofy twelve year old antics.
until he can’t anymore. until he snaps. both katara and zuko wear their hearts on their sleeves, and that includes their rage. but aang’s rage is dangerous specifically because it represents that he has been pushed past his limits, that the conditions of this world in which he is a perpetual stranger, temporally displaced and dispossessed, are intolerable. that peaceful reconciliation is impossible. and the fact that he persists beyond that breaking point, over and over again, to firmly and resoundingly establish his ideals even as they conflict with everything he has learned about this world, a world that is not his own even as he can never return to the world he once knew, is what makes him so unique, so powerful, so beautiful.
i know that aang isn’t the typical hero, neither narratively nor aesthetically, but really, that’s the entire point. the world, our world, needs something other than what we have now. we need someone who will not succumb to the ideals of domination and victory through violence to assert themselves. we need someone who stands firm in refusing to kill the firelord, even as everyone he knows tells him otherwise. we need someone who knows that darkness cannot be vanquished through more darkness, but can only truly yield to purifying light.
and sure, aang is a child, and often acts childishly. sure, he’s not conventionally handsome and alluring. but one thing i will never understand is how that somehow negates his appeal to the masses. because even if you don’t appreciate how crucial he is to the themes of this narrative you all seem to love so much, how can you not love his adorable little face? his precious little laugh, his zest for life, the infinite well of love and kindness he holds in his heart? people who hate aang are crazy to me. because you are, quite literally, hating the world’s most precious baby boy.
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wegc · 5 months
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heheh back to bother you with more spicy thoughts :3
Thoughts on biting kink?? i just keep thinking about what ot8 reaction would be after seeing the damage that y/n would do hehe purple hickeys littering their bodies not a spot untouched, bite marks still slightly visible, having to wear long sleeves and turtle necks to cover the evidence which makes y/n that all her hard work is being covered 😵‍💫 definitely feel like most of them would relish in the fact that y/n wants people to know that their man is taken already ,, sorry but I’m a sucker for possessive kink :3
anywhooo hope your doing well and that your day went as amazing as you !!
-🧸
saw biting kink and IMMEDIATELY thought of lee minho!!!
ot8 reaction to you leaving hickeys on them!!!
chan would be so giggly and flustered when he caught sight of the hickeys scattered across his body and would take a couple of pictures so he could look back on them. since he is an idol, he does have to conceal them, plus, he’s so shy!!! when you get pouty about it, he finds you so cute and feels so giddy inside because he adores it when you’re possessive. he wants you to tell him that he’s yours, that he belongs to no one else but you—if you ever tell him any of those things while you guys are fucking, he’s creaming FOR SURE.
minho would smirk and tease you about it, playfully grumbling about the marks while secretly attempting to hide his red ears because he feels butterflies in his stomach every time he catches a glimpse of them. though he does have to conceal them while he’s working, he makes no effort to hide them while he’s at home or with friends because he gets a kick out of people knowing that he’s yours and that yes!!! lee minho got some!!! he’s also the type to litter hickeys on you and would further use a makeup wipe to clean away the concealer you’re using to hide them.
changbin would be so ANNOYING omfg—he’s giggling in your face, facetiming his friends or the members to boast about the purple bruises because he’s so proud that he’s yours!!! changbin adores the idea of someone being obsessed with him so the thought that you, the love of his life, his number one—the person that drives him crazy is just as insane about him makes him so delighted. he gets pouty and whiney when they wear off and demands that you give him more once they’ve completely faded off because “they’re apart of him.”
hyunjin would feign playful annoyance and would whine about how much of a nuisance it is to cover them, but really, he’s endeared and finds them almost artistic, in a way. the underlying intention of hickeys—to claim someone, its inherent territoriality, their origin in the act of lovemaking as a symbol of adoration—how can hyunjin not romanticize them? he smiles softly every time he sees them and brushes the tips of his fingers against the bruised skin. one day, when they fade away, he’ll lay his head on your lap, straining his neck as an offering, silently asking for more. take me, he’d whisper.
jisung would treasure them because number 1: it feels so good receiving them (han jisung moaning like a girl agenda will always prevail) and number 2: he feels so cherished. jisung can’t help but feel small when you tell him you want others to understand he’s yours and that you’ve claimed him. he’d nod, a lazy grin on his face, eyes glossing over and looking at you cheerily, completely and utterly love-sick. “yeah,” he mumbles. “i suppose the marks are useful… can i give them to you?” cue him begging to let him give you hickeys, loudly whining and rolling his eyes when you reject him.
felix would mention the hickeys now and then to fluster you but abruptly shrinks when you stare at him intensely and tell him that you want others to know that he’s taken. “oh,” he’d whisper, feeling his cheeks blush and his heart race. he still feels flustered when you laugh and tell him that you’re joking because he never knew he could like something so much. he feels his heart drop when you continue, absentmindedly suggesting that you’d stop if he wanted, to which he quickly shakes his head to. “i don’t want you to stop,” he’d breathe out. “give me as many as you’d like.”
seungmin is someone that i don’t particularly see going so crazy over them. while covering them up is a hassle, he walks around with them freely at home and in the dorms, clapping back whenever a member teases him about it. instead of focusing on the marks, he rather relishes the sentiment behind them and revels in the way you show your passion and possessiveness over him. i can see him staring at the bruises when he misses you exceptionally, or maybe when he’s extra pent up, he strokes himself in front of the mirror, eyes narrowed at the purple marks you’ve littered on his body. not like he’d tell you that though!!!
jeongin laughs at you about it but also loves them so much, and repeatedly asks you why you leave them on his body even though he knows why. he’s attentively listened to your reasoning behind it at least 50 times; but how can you stop telling him when he gets so giddy and smiley every time you remind him that he’s yours and that no one else can have him? he’d nod, eyes crinkling in delight and would sigh happily, unable to make eye contact with you. he takes photos of his marked body and begs to leave some on you so you guys can have matching wallpapers. he’ll have your marked body as his, and you’ll have his as yours!
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spiderwcd · 5 months
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sense | c.b.
pairing: colby brock x medium ! f ! reader
summary: colby meets a new medium for their video, but he didn't expect to have a crush on her 
w.c.: 5.4k
warning(s): talk about paranormal, creepy activity, a lil steamy moment
a/n:  like sleep tight, the hauntings are made up and the story line does not exist. i do want to add that, i suck at writing a lot of like investigative stories so please don’t judge me. also I had requests for this type of story, ironically I was already working on it so hope you guys enjoy it
images from pinterest !
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"Is anyone gonna join us?" Colby asked, packing his camera into his bag. 
"Actually, yeah, some girl that Celina referred from the home town," Sam replied. "She's supposed to be a medium." He added. 
The two guys finally we're going to investigate the infamous orphanage that is supposedly haunted by the spirits of the children that died. They had finally done the research and were ready to go investigate. 
"Cool, what's this girl's name?" Colby inquired. 
"Uhm, I think it's y/n?" Sam stopped to think, pulling out his phone. "Yeah, I texted her this morning letting her know we're going to catch a flight there, she's our ride." Sam chuckled, putting away his phone into his pocket. 
Colby let the name sit in his brain for a little, hoping to remember it later. It wasn't long before they were on their flight there. It was quite a while, editing and looking over their notes. 
When they landed, Sam kept searching for her face and Colby totally lost who they were supposed to look for. Sam's eyes soon lit up, recognizing her in the crowd. He waved at her, bringing her attention towards them. 
Colby finally noticed who they looked for, catching a glimpse of her. He felt his body heat up, flustered at her beauty. She was gorgeous, her hair running down her shoulders and her smile radiating through the crowds of people passing, he was surprised he didn't notice her earlier. She'd look like your typical medium, having a great style in all black, wearing an oversized band shirt, black sleeves underneath that hung over her jeans. 
"Hey guys!" Y/n greeted them, hugging Sam then moving over to Colby.
Colby felt his heart flutter and couldn't help but take her scent in, practically intoxicating. As she pulled away from her embrace, Colby couldn't help but feel disappointed. She offered them a smile and a hand with their luggage, but they declined the help. 
They moved their things into her car, ready for the trip over to their hotel. On the way there, she played music that practically matched Colby's taste. He felt as if he found his soulmate then and there. 
Sam kept asking her about herself and getting to know her. 
"So tell me, what type of medium are you?" Sam wondered. "If you don't mind me asking, of course." 
"It's okay, I like answering these, well, it's weird but I sorta have different types of abilities," Y/n began, steering the wheel. "I can let spirits communicate through me, so I'll channel them into my consciousness, letting them talk." She answered. 
"Other abilities? like what?" Colby asked, curious as he leaned forward in his seat.
"Well, I'm sure you have other mediums with my ability to see beyond what you guys can see," Y/n chuckled, amused at their curiosity. "I sort of have a heightened sense and I can see actual spirits walking around and hear whispers." 
"You know, I think you're the only medium we met who can just surrender themselves to let spirits talk through them." Sam chuckled. 
"Oh well I don't do it often, only with spirits I trust." Y/n added. 
As she finished her sentence, they had finally made their way to their hotel. It didn't take long before the three of them were inside the room, talking about random stuff. Colby couldn't help but watch her as she laughed and moved around the room. 
"What's so interesting about Nebraska?" Sam joked, starting a conversation. 
"If i'm being honest," Y/n sighed. "Nothing." She laughed. 
"Oh, that's great," Sam laughed back. "I don't want to get into the video already, but tell me, why is Nebraska so significant with orphanages?" He continued, pulling out his camera and beginning to record. 
"Well, do you guys know about the Orphan Train Movement?" She asked, leaning back on the bed she sat on. 
"No, never really heard of it." Colby replied, shaking his head. 
"Well, Nebraska is like the center of all the railways, so in the 1850's all the way until the 1920's, people would send orphans on the train from like the crowded East Coast cities into the midwest, mostly Nebraska," Y/n explained. "So, we used to have a lot of orphanages just like Haven Orphanage." She continued. 
"Really? that's really interesting." Sam commented, facing the camera towards her. 
"Yeah, again I don't really have much knowledge about it but that's what I know," Y/n corrected. "Hopefully the guide will explain it better." 
Y/n decided it's best if she lets them settle in, letting her also collect herself and prepare for their investigation. she said her goodbyes before leaving. She had to admit, she had a crush on Colby for a while. But she didn't want to feed her delusions and say he felt the same, telling herself he was probably being friendly. 
When she had left, Sam turned over to colby. 
"You so have a crush on her." Sam laughed. 
Colby turned red, covering his face, "Shut up." He muttered. 
"Hey, I just never seen you so quiet around a girl," Sam admitted. "Come on, you gonna make a move?" Sam enticed him.
Colby sighed for a second, looking at his best friend, "I-i don't know, she's only being nice, I don't want to embarrass myself and get rejected." 
"Really? Colby Brock getting rejected? Haven't seen that happen yet." Sam teased. 
Colby rolled his eyes, playfully. "Whatever, let’s just focus on this investigation for now." he averted the subject. 
Sam just gave him a look, as if it wasn't over just yet. He agreed to his friend's idea, pulling out his notes and taking more notes. 
Six o'clock came a lot earlier than they hoped, making their way to the orphanage. As they pulled into the building, they noticed y/n already waiting out front for them. Colby felt his heart beat a bit faster seeing her there. He examined her outfit and her demeanor, admiring her. 
They began making their way up towards the front doors, seeing the guide also there. It didn't take long for y/n to turn around and notice them, putting a smile on her face and her heart to melt a bit seeing colby. 
"What's up guys?" Y/n offered them a smile. "I was just talking to Morgan here about the building." She pointed towards the other woman. 
They greeted their guide, offering a warm greeting. They all introduced themselves, joking and laughing a bit. 
"Well, are you guys ready for the tour?" Morgan asked them. 
"Yeah, for sure lead the way." Sam nodded, following her. 
"Well this building was built in 1863, it was originally an orphanage named Haven Orphanage for Moved or Unwanted children," Morgan started, pointing towards the building. "It's said to be haunted, due to cruel conditions like overcrowding and shortage of supplies. The government didn't really want to pay for any orphanages, unfortunately causing it to be absolute hell for the children and staff." She continued, clasping her hands together. 
"Yeah, off the bat I already feel like some negative energy," Y/n motioned with her hands towards the building. "Like I feel a negative spirit lurking." 
"Yeah, so that you're feeling is Ruby," Morgan clarified. "She was one of the staff, she was very cruel to the children and it's rumored she sold her soul to the devil for the place to keep standing, but unfortunately she passed away from unknown causes." She continued. 
Everyone looked around, widened eyes painted on their faces. 
"Wow, okay so more demons." Sam chuckled.
"Well, it's not all bad energy," Morgan stopped him. "There's a lot of children spirits in here, they're rather playful and kind. But they do like to mess with you so don't get too scared from it." She added. 
"Wait, why am I kinda excited," y/n replied, covering her smile. "I never talked to children's spirits before." She admitted. 
"Well, it'll be a new experience for everyone then." Morgan chuckled, "Shall we start the tour then?" She suggested. 
The group agreed, making their way into the building. Immediately everyone looked around the place, noticing the different decor and admiring the ceilings. 
"So, as you can see, the building has a lot of character to it," Morgan pointed out. "But don't be fooled, there are a lot of dark corners of this building." 
Aas they went deeper into the hallway, they looked around seeing the admission office and different classrooms. 
"This was the classrooms, they would attend school here but the staff wasn't very kind," Morgan began. "A lot of the staff would use punishments that were unorthodox, like paddling which was spanking with a wooden paddle." She added. 
Colby looked over to Sam, "Maybe I should be punished." He whispered, causing y/n and Sam to laugh a bit. 
They soon wandered up the stairs, examining the stained glass on their way up. Y/n smiled as her eyes traveled around the beautiful structure, while Colby couldn’t help but watch her move and how beautiful she was. 
When they made their way up, they noticed the many bedrooms with bunk beds. As y/n began following the guide, she heard a loud metallic thump in one of the rooms. She jumped a bit, surprised by the sound. Unexpectedly, she jumped back into Colby's arms, causing her to become embarrassed. 
Colby's hands were wrapped around her for a moment before y/n, releasing her when she cleared her throat and looked down flustered. “Sorry, that just scared the shit out of me.” She muttered, placing a hand on her chest. 
“That's probably Billy,” Morgan mentioned, pointing towards one of the darkened rooms. “He likes to mess with tourists, he’s a prankster but he’s harmless.” She added. 
Y/n couldn't help but notice a small figure move out of her eyeline, causing her to swing her head towards the room. The guys followed her swift movements, examining the dark room. 
"Did you see something?" Colby asked her, looking back at her. 
Y/n tried focusing her eyes into the darkness, but nothing came up, "Could've sworn I saw something..." She whispered. 
As Sam pointed the camera towards the darkness, he zoomed into the room. "Well we definitely have to come back here for something," he commented. 
As they continued making their way further into the building, Colby couldn't keep his eyes off her. She was beautiful at every angle, he wanted to protect her from anything and everything. Y/n noticed his gaze, being a medium and all, and turned to him. Colby quickly averted his gaze off her, flustered yet again and awkwardly kept walking. 
Y/n blushes as well, trying to rationalize. She cleared her throat as she began making her way towards one of the bedrooms. 
"This was one of the girls' rooms," Morgan explained, pointing towards the different bedsheets of muted pinks and purples. "This doesn't have much activity besides a little girl who likes to sing from time to time, she's a rather sweet ghost." 
"Sam, this one should be your favorite," Colby teases, mentioning the Sallie house. 
Sam laughs, facing his friend, "I think I'm okay without another attachment." 
They all exchanged laughs as they averted their attention towards the sudden faint sounds of footsteps, followed by the rocking chair in the corner slowly creaking as it rocked back and forth. 
They went silent, looking at each other and back at the scene. But the chair just ceases its movements. 
"Okay, what the actual fuck." Colby whispered, covering his mouth in shock. 
Y/n felt a cold touch travel down her arm, as if someone swiped her arm. She looked around, trying to find the source. She felt a faint whisper in her ear, a name. 
"That was the little girl, her name is Beth if you would like to talk to her." Morgan suggested.
Y/n's jaw flew down, realizing what the name was. "You're kidding," she gasped. "I literally heard like a whisper or something with that name." She announced, crossing her arms as she felt the cold begin to engulf her. 
Sam and Colby turned to her, eyes widened in surprise. 
"Oh my god, maybe Beth wants to talk or something?" Sam considered, pointing the camera towards her direction. 
Y/n nodding, agreeing. She had experiences like this, but never this strong. She felt like her body was vibrating and buzzing with the constant movements and voices. 
"Are you okay?" Colby asked, furrowing his brows as he noticed her body shake. 
Y/n nodded slightly, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath. "Yeah just there's so much happening right now, I keep hearing different types of voices and seeing figures around the corner of my eye." She mentioned. 
Colby's eyes washed over with concern, having the need to protect her. "Did you want to take a break or anything?" He asked her, worry coated in his voice. 
Y/n smiled at his empathy, "I'll be okay, just my body is buzzing a bit, but thank you." She breathed out, flustered at his concern. 
Before they knew it, they had made their way to the darkest part of the building. The basement was where supposedly a lot of the children died from cruel punishments, creating a lot of angry spirits. 
"Okay, so before we make our way around," Morgan began, turning back to the group of people. "There is a lot of negative energy here, they will try to hurt you. People always leave here with scratches and even have been pushed off the stairs going to the basement." She warned. 
The group felt tense, nervous about what comes next. When they entered the dimly lit room, they could barely navigate through the dark basement as they stayed close to each other. 
Y/n heard something fall, causing her to jump forward and instinctively grab the person's hand. That person being Colby. She blushed as she realized who it was, clearing her throat and mumbling an apology. 
"It's okay," Colby assured, smiling but she couldn't see it. "You can hold my hand if you want, I'm sorta shitting bricks right now too." He chuckled, stretching out his hand to her. 
She felt her heart skip a beat, hesitantly reaching for his hand. As she grabbed onto his hand, she felt her body rush with electricity. Y/n was glad that the room was too dark to see her flustered face. 
"Alright guys," Morgan sighed, stopping under a lightbulb. "This was where most of the children actually died." She mentioned. 
Y/n felt a wave of sadness coarse through her body, her lip beginning to quiver. Colby looked over to her, seeing the glisten of her tears. 
"Hey, you okay?" He asked her, his brows furrowed with worry. 
"Y-Yeah, I just felt this wave of sadness," she sniffled in response. "like I feel them telling me something so horrible happened to them." She added. 
Colby felt sad to see her cry, wanting to wipe her tears away. Instead he gripped onto her hand firmly, reassuring her. 
Morgan nodded at her comment, "It was actually gruesome," she began. "The kids would be punished here, starved, even beaten. A lot of that resulted in death." 
Everyone in the group frowned, so much remorse for the poor children's lives that were lost. 
"But," Morgan cut in. "Like I mentioned before, there is an adult spirit who haunts here, Ruby. It's rumored she was murdered down here or the other theory was she was pushed out of one of the windows." 
They thought for a moment, feeling a cold chill rush through them causing them to shiver for a bit. 
"Did you guys feel that?" Sam asked, pointing the camera towards them, ignoring their grasp on each other. 
The two nodded, their eyes darting throughout the basement. 
"Man, I don't like the vibe I'm getting here." Y/n whispered, trying to inch closer to Colby. 
Colby agreed, lacing his fingers through hers as he pulled her closer to his body. He felt so protective of her, wanting her to be safe. 
"Yeah, we don't want to be down here for too long," Morgan began making her way back to the exit. "People get seriously hurt here." She added, sternly. 
Y/n's eyes widened, looking up at Colby. He looked back once he noticed her glance and smiled as he guided her towards the exit. 
Once they exited the creepy basement, y/n let go as she thought Colby wouldn't want Sam to see their hold, causing Colby to become disappointed. 
Morgan led the group towards the front of the building, Y/n walking alongside with her as Sam and Colby hung behind them. 
"Dude, I saw you guys down there," Sam smirked, grabbing Colby's attention. "You know, holding hands," He teased. 
Colby rolled his eyes as he flustered at his best friend's teasing, "So what?" He murmured. 
"Admit it, you like her, don't you?" Sam asked, wiggling his brows slightly. 
This only caused Colby to get more embarrassed, looking away from his best friend. 
Sam only chuckled, reaching the doors to the building as they parted ways with Morgan. They thanked her, offering her farewells, and advice. 
As soon as Morgan left, the group looked at each other. Y/n tried to avoid her gaze on Colby, not wanting to seem desperate for his attention. 
"Alright, I think we should use the spirit box," Sam began, rummaging through his bag. "And I have some toys that might interest the kids." Sam added as he pulled out various children's toys and the infamous Alice box. 
"Okay, sounds good." Colby agreed, nodding with the plan. 
Y/n bit her lip, trying to figure out something she heard in the building. She figured it was nothing, brushing it off slightly. They began making their way back towards the doors they just exited, seeing the dark hallways stretch down. 
Y/n froze for a moment, her eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. Soon, she started making her way towards the two who had already made it halfway down the hallway as they discussed plans. 
She tried to catch up to them, but stopped when she saw it. She stopped at the intersection of hallways, staring down the much larger hallway. 
Colby looked behind him, seeing y/n stuck in a trance like state. He made his way back to her, nudging her to see what's wrong. 
"Y-You guys don't see it don't you?" She whispered, her eyes glued on the other side of the barren hallway. 
Colby and Sam looked over to where she was staring, unable to locate the problem. 
"No, Y/n we only see the hallway." Colby shook his head, worry creeping into his skin. 
As Sam tried to begin his sentence, Y/n quickly cut him off. 
"Holy fuck, that thing just moved." Y/n whispered, her hands shaking a bit. 
"What? What did you see?" Sam asked, looking around the hallway. 
Y/n turned to the two, her eyes widened slightly. 
"Okay, as I was about to make my way towards you guys," y/n explained. "I stopped because I heard this whisper, almost telling me to come over here kinda. So I look down the hallway and I see this fucking thing, it was like tall and black and clothed with some weird black clothes, it kept staring at me even when you guys came over. Then it grinned and walked away." She elaborated, her voice beginning to shake as she covered her mouth a bit with her shaking hand. 
Sam and Colby look at each other for a moment, worried. 
"Yeah, okay so already a lot of shit is happening." Sam sighed, feeling a pressure build up in his chest. 
Colby nodded, licking his lips as he began to speak, "let's just get this investigation over with so we can leave," he suggested. "Are you okay to keep going?" He asked Y/n, his brows furrowed. 
Y/n nodded her head, exhaling a deep breath out. "Yeah, just that freaked me out but i'm sure it's nothing." She convinced herself. 
With that, the three made their way to one of the bedrooms, trying to contact one of the nicer spirits. 
"Okay guys, so we have the new Alice box," Sam pointed the camera to the machine. "It's like a spirit box, reading through channels and frequencies so the spirits talk through it." He explained. 
Y/n looked around the room a bit, examining the surroundings well. Colby couldn't help but stare at her face, watching as her eyes darted around. Y/n looked over to Colby's glance and Colby smiled a bit, causing her to blush yet again. She's lost track of how many times she caught him doing things that she keeps reading into. Clearly he's being friendly, but really how friendly?
"Okay let's ask some questions for the little girls that stay in this room." Sam began, clasping his hands after he turned on the small device.
"...hello?..." 
A female voice rang throughout the room, the echo bouncing off the walls. Y/n furrowed her brows, pulling out her notebook as she began to scribble words that came up in her mind. 
She stopped at the word, she looked down and thought of it for a moment. She noticed something, a pair of eyes on her notebook. But it wasn't a spirit, just colby snooping. She smiled a bit, turning her notebook over to Colby. 
He looked at her then lined the pieces of paper with the random ink on letters and drawings. As he read the words, suddenly the Alice box answered. 
"...chair..."
Colby's jaw hung open, looking over to Sam and the paper. Y/n's actions mimicking his. 
"Dude," y/n gasped, displaying her notebook to Sam and the camera. "I wrote that not even 2 minutes earlier, Colby saw it too." She explained. 
Sam’s mouth hung open a bit, shocked. "No fucking way." 
But before they could say anything else, the Alice box spoke again. 
"...girl..." 
"I mean, this is the girl's room." Y/n explained. The two guys nodded, still confused what the spirits are trying to say. 
"...man... hallway..." 
Y/n froze, goosebumps running down her body. "Oh my god, it's talking about that thing I saw." She whispered. 
"Do you know the thing that Y/n saw in that hallway?" Colby asked into the open air. 
The Alice box stayed silent for a moment, occasionally spewing random words that didn't make sense. But as they were about to turn it off, it spoke. 
"... can't say..." 
"Can't say? Why can't you say anything?" Y/n asked yet again, scribbling into her notebook. 
"...won't..." "...let us..." 
"He maybe has a hold on them," Sam suggested, rubbing his chin slightly. "It's possible it's a demon." He added. 
"...evil..." 
They looked at each other and didn't say anything for a moment, Y/n turning her notebook over to reveal the word written on the paper. evil. 
Then the rem pod near the door started going off, a chill running down Y/n's back as the room became cold.
"Okay, this is actually so freaky," Sam chuckled a bit, pointing the camera towards the door. "The rem pod went off after Y/n wrote evil AND the Alice box said evil." 
Y/n sat up, ears perking up a bit as she listened carefully to the air. "Okay, I don't know if it's just me, but the room went completely freezing, and I feel something negative in here." She blurted out. 
"Yeah, I feel the cold," Sam agreed. "Could it be that thing you saw earlier?" He inquired. 
Y/n shook her head, "No, that was like paralyzing fear," She noted. "This one.. it's just mad." She whispered out. 
Concern painted on Colby's expression, clearly reading her body language as uncomfortable. 
"Hey, maybe let's end it in this room," Colby proposed. "A lot more places to investigate." 
Sam nodded, reaching for the equipment as he turned it off. Y/n sat up, but quickly recoiled forward. Colby noticed it, confused. 
"You okay?" he asked, helping her stabilize herself. 
Y/n looked around as Colby held onto her arm. "Y-Yeah, just something pushed me," She answered. "like I was standing up, and I felt a shove on my upper back." 
The group quickly exited the room, making their way down to the basement. They were going to explore more of the place, but seeing how y/n kept being targeted clearly for her abilities they weren't comfortable making her go through it. 
The feeling of uneasiness returned, entering the frigid basement. The dim light still remained on, barely illuminating the space around them. 
"Alright guys, we're going to the basement," Sam mentioned into the camera, showing the dark room. "We're going to do the Estes method down here, Colby is going to do it today." he spun the camera towards Colby's direction, zooming into his face. 
"Wow, face of excitement right there." Y/n joked, causing Colby to break his monotone expression to light up with laughter. 
She felt her heart jump, hearing his laughter brightening her spirit up. She could listen to it all day if she could. Colby soon sat on the barren concrete floor, Y/n handing him the blindfold followed with the headphones. His hands brushing up against her, followed by a smirk on his face. 
She cleared her throat, backing away from him. 
"Alright Colby, can you hear us?" Sam asked, testing out the volume. Colby doesn't say anything, listening to the random static coming through the headphones. 
"Okay, whoever dwells in this basement, are you the supposed member of staff that passed away?" Sam questioned, awaiting Colby's answer. 
"Perhaps." Colby replied. 
"So it's a bit sassy." Y/n chuckled a bit followed by Sam's chuckles. 
"Well, is it true you did rituals to keep this place running?" Sam added. 
Colby stayed silent for a moment, trying to listen carefully to the voices ringing through. 
"Force." Colby blurted. "protect," he continued. 
They looked at each other, trying to decipher what was spoken. 
"What did you do to protect this building?" Y/n asked, furrowing her brows. 
"Colby." Colby said. "Crush." 
Sam looked over to y/n and smirked a bit, "I think it's speaking for you." 
Y/n smacked Sam playfully, a blush covering her face. 
"Kissing," Colby furrowed his brow under his mask. "Tree." 
Sam bursted into laughter, nearly dropping to the floor. Y/n covered her face with her hands, embarrassed. Colby, still oblivious to what's happening, is still spewing out words. Sam tapped him, alerting him to pull out of his trance. 
Colby removed his blindfold, followed by the headphones. He noticed Sam's laughter and Y/n's embarrassed face behind her hands. 
"What? What happened?" Colby asked, curious why Sam was practically rolling on the floor. 
Sam calmed down, wiping the tears out of his eyes. “It said kiss and then tree,” Sam coughed a bit. “It was teasing you.” He pointed towards Colby. 
Colby's face became warm, blushing until his face was red, “Yeah real funny, Sam.” Colby muttered with a sigh. 
Y/n cleared her throat, cheeks still flaming hot. "Well, let's just continue what we came here for." Y/n grumbled, her arms folded on her chest. 
Sam wiped his eyes, cooling down from his laughter. "Wow, that was too good."
Sam began making his way towards the stairs, leaving Y/n and Colby behind his trail.
"Sorry about him." Colby let out with a sigh, rubbing his neck. 
Y/n smiled up at him slightly, "I-Its okay, I know he's just teasing." She blushed. 
Colby simply nodded, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. It wasn't too long before they had explored the whole place, investigating where they could. But then the time to sleep in the actual building came, which y/n began overthinking about. She knew she agreed to sleep alone, but she was too scared after her encounter with that thing in the hallway. 
"Alright guys, it's time for us to split up and sleep in separate rooms," Sam urged. "We figured with the whole Y/n seeing the spirit in the hallway, we're going to sleep in rooms next to each other just to ensure safety." Sam explained. 
Y/n fiddled with her fingers slightly, anxiety beginning to heighten. She bit her lip as they began setting up camp in their rooms. She grabbed her sleeping bag, making their way towards one of the girl's rooms. her heart began beating against her chest as she sat on top of her sleeping bag, listening to every crack and noise around her. 
She rubbed her face, trying to distract herself from her thoughts. But then she heard a faint knocking on the window directly behind her. She just stared at the moonlight that illuminated through the glass in front of her. She quickly sat up, quickly walking towards the closed door. As she opened the door, Colby's chest pressed up against hers. She yelped as she got freighted by the unexpected visit. 
Y/n pressed her hand onto her chest, trying to calm herself down. "Holy shit Colby, you scared the fuck out of me!" She lightly slapped his chest. 
Colby chuckled a bit, trying to lighten up the mood, "Sorry, I couldn't sleep, plus I knew this was your first time staying alone in a haunted place so I wanted to keep you some company." He admitted. 
Y/n felt her heart softly flutter, touched by his gesture, "Yeah, I sorta kept hearing things, I was gonna go to you." She confessed. 
Colby smiled, glad she found comfort in his presence, "Mind if I sleep in the same room as you then?" He requested. 
"Not at all," Y/n quickly replied, walking back to her sleeping bag onto the floor. Colby followed, his pillow and sleeping bag in his hands. "I wonder if Sam is shitting himself alone." She chuckled as she hugged her knees close to her chest. 
Colby sat next to her as he laid out his temporary bed, chuckling at the comment, "He'll be fine," He waved off, "After he laughed at us,he can sleep by himself." 
Y/n laughed a bit, looking down towards the floor. Colby couldn't help but stare at her, admiring her features in the moonlight. She noticed his gaze, moving her attention back towards him. 
"W-What?" She asked him, confused. 
"Nothing," Colby shrugged. "You're just really beautiful." He whispered. 
She flustered as she looked away as her cheeks painted with a deep color, "Oh, stop it." She muttered, playing with her fingernails. 
Colby's fingers landed on her jaw, moving her to face back towards him. She looked up into his eyes, seeming to get pulled closer towards him. 
"Well, it's true," He added, but couldn't help but lean towards her lips as his eyes kept glancing to her eyes and back to her lips. "I couldn't stop staring at you all day," he revealed. 
She felt her body heat up, unknowingly pressing closer to him. "Well, maybe I knew," She replied, feeling his hand on top of hers. "Maybe I was staring too." 
With that, Colby's lips landed on her. She gladly accepted as her lips pieced together perfectly. Colby's hand laced with hers, like previously that night. He lightly held her face, his thumb rubbing her cheek.
But soon, Colby pulled away, leaving them panting as they rested each other's forehead on one another. Y/n couldn't help but smile and chuckle a bit, causing Colby to wonder. 
"What?" He wondered. 
"Nothing," She added, rubbing her thumb on his hand. "Just, there were at least three little girls in here giggling." She confessed. 
Colby let out a laugh, pulling away as he looked around the room, "Well, you guys should give us some space." He announced into the room. 
The next morning, the sun began to shine through their window. The rays of light hitting their eyes, causing their eyes to flutter open. Y/n was the first one to notice him, seeing his wide smile on his face. Sam pointed the camera at the two, giggling as he noticed her to wake up. 
Y/n looked over next to her, noticing the boy clung onto her as he laid onto her chest. She threw her pillow towards Sam, causing him to laugh loudly which woke up Colby. Colby rubbed his eyes, adjusting his vision to the bright room. 
"What the-." Colby grumbled, looking up towards y/n's tired face. 
"Dude, how long have you guys been cuddling?" Sam exclaimed, putting away the camera. 
"Shut up sam." Colby muttered, his head landing onto his pillow. y/n sat up, covering her face. 
"Sam, it's too early for this, can you please leave us alone." Y/n groaned.
"Fine, fine I'll let you love birds be." Sam teased, wiggling his brows a bit before he shut the door behind him as he left. 
Y/n looked over to Colby who was laying on his side. She smiled a bit, still exhausted. He returned the smile, still amazed by her beauty. 
"Does this mean you'd go out with me? or do you already know that I was gonna ask you out?" He finally asked. 
Y/n chuckled dryly, "Colby, I’m a medium, not psychic," She rolled her eyes playfully. "But yes, I will go out with you."
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ohcaptains · 1 year
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don’t you dare fall in love | 3
pairing. dealer college student! ellie williams x f! reader
PART ONE. PART TWO. MASTERLIST. synopsis. ellie tries her hardest not to mix business with pleasure. or, ellie gets a new customer and unfortunately falls in love with her.
warnings. 18+. blank & ageless blogs will be blocked. clichè comments on sorority girls (sorry), sexually explicit descriptions of female receiving cunnilingus, fondling, fingering, and dry humping. not beta’d.
an. well here ya go! thank u to all those who were so patient and lovely with me<3 to those who weren’t and were mean to me...i’m giving you the nastiest dirty look rn. pls comment and reblog!!!! love u. 
When Ellie gets out of her meeting with her personal tutor, she’s just about ready to throw herself down the stairs.
Catapult herself out of the window and perish on the campus floor. That way, she wouldn’t have to rewrite this God. Damn. Essay.
It sucks that she has to do actual work to get her degree, but what sucks even more, is doing the work and being told you’ve done it all wrong.
At first, Ellie was angry. Now, she’s frustrated. Tired. Was up all night writing this essay because she’s been waiting for this meeting for a whole week, and all the man did was say, you’re not actually answering the question.
“Fucking asshole,” she murmurs, pushing through the doors.
She reaches the quiet hallway of the humanities block, the dilapidated building stuffy with age. She misses her uber-funded science building. Misses the cool white and sleek edges. Here, there’s paper covering everything.
The hallways go round and round – lift creaks from the weight of students carrying War and Peace in their backpacks, year after year.
She’s near tears when she hears you calling her name.
“Els?” you ask, tone confused and edged with excitement. Ellie’s heart does its little familiar leap. She turns to you, sniffing the tears away. It’s been a minute since she saw you in the flesh. Her body aches, eager to touch you. “Hey,” she greets, the presence of you brightening her mood for a sweet second. You’re wearing a casual pair of black jeans and a band tee – Ellie owns a similar one, and for a moment, she thinks you’re wearing her shirt. “I was just about to text you –” you start, but your face twists, noticing hers. “You okay?” “Yeah,” Ellie lies. The tears push harder now, your concern making her belly flop.
You frown. “No, you’re not.”
Her lip wobbles.
“Ellie?” “Sorry, just – fuck --” her eyes are rimmed red, tears pushing over the edge. “—had a really shitty meeting with my tutor about my essay that’s worth like, 50% of my grade and I’m so busy with other work and—” a tear slips down her cheek, but you’re quick to take her in your arms, murmuring, “oh, Els,” as you cup her head and pull it into your neck.
She releases a breath, leaning her full weight into your body.
You smell like laundry detergent and coffee. Smell familiar. She’s comfortable here. It’s why she lets herself begin to cry against your shoulder.
“Awh, sweetheart,” you whisper, hands running up and down her back, soothing her like a baby.
“What did the feedback say?” “Have to change the whole thing. And I have enough time, but I have other work.” “Yeah, I can imagine.” “He basically said that if I submit this essay, I’ll fail.” “Well, you won’t, because I’ll hack into the system and change your grade for you.”
Ellie hiccups a laugh, “you know nothing about computers.” “I’ll learn for you. Take some night classes. What’s the essay for?” you ask, still rubbing her back. “English.” “I can help you if you want.” “Yeah?” “Yeah, come to mine. I’ll look through the question with you, and help you plan.”
Ellie pulls away, wiping her wet, red-rimmed eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie. You help her, drying the dampness from her chin and cheeks, and smoothing her hair behind her ears.
She beams from your touch. Her body goes hot from your care -- belly flips over.
You hold her shoulders, keeping her steady, and Ellie thanks the Gods you texted her that day. Your smile is resolute as you say, “It’ll be okay. We got this.”
When you open the door to your accommodation, Ellie is mid panic attack. “You live in a sorority?” she squeaks. When you sent her the address earlier, she hadn’t really read it, too busy trying to calm her beating heart. Going to her house going to her house.
Now, she’s standing in front of you, and thinking – this is your house? There’s a teardrop chandelier hanging behind you, and the staircase loops around the entrance hall, feeding into the back of the house.
You frown, confused. “Yeah, did I not tell you?” “No – “Ellie bursts, clearly flustered, “-- you failed to provide me with that information.” She makes a mental note to text Dina, simply – what the fuck, man? “Is it a problem?” you wonder, leaning against the doorframe, comfortable in your home. (Wearing pyjama shorts and a baggy top, you know, comfortable)
You didn’t seem like a sorority girl. But what did that even mean?
You did have a lot of…spirit.
Ellie imagines you hosting mixers and philanthropy events.
(Imagines you wearing a lot of pink and jumpers with your sorority name on it and nothing else.) “I don’t really sell to frats or sororities,” she explains, because, yeah, that’s the reason she’s having a hot moment. She thought she knew a lot about you. This, right here, is a big deal, and yet she’s only now just finding out.
What else did she not know about you? You think for a quick second. “Oh. Well,” you smile, patting your chest, concluding, “I’m the exception,” and you take her hand and pull her in, closing the door behind her.
When Ellie’s in the house, she doesn’t let go of your hand.
Instead, she uses it to tug you closer, and your wrist pushes into her belly. “They let queer girls into sororities?” she whispers, close enough to taste the mint gum you’re chewing.
Ellie has ideas of girls on the straight and narrow. No girl kissing here, unless guys are watching. Ellie cringes at the cliché, but you’re not offended – hadn’t heard her thoughts, so, that would be why – as your lips pull into a sly smile.
You lean forward, a ghost of a kiss. Ellie’s throat squeezes. “They don’t know that I’m a queer girl,” you whisper back, the heat of your eyes all-consuming.
Ellie watches you shrug.
“They don’t know that at least a quarter of them are queer girls, but – they’re not ready for that conversation.” “But you’re out, no?” Ellie quickly stumbles. If you’re not out, then that really messes with her plans to marry you and meet all your family. “Yeah,” you shrug again, explaining, “they just haven’t asked,” as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. In some ways, Ellie guesses, it is. She beams, “Well, they’ll ask when they see you hanging with me.” “What, why?” “Because I’m a known queer girl” “Oh, you have a reputation?” you quirk, and Ellie hums, “It’s possible I may have fooled around with some of your sorority sisters.” You chew on your lip, and cock your head to the side, “But did you share a really weird and intimate high with them where you cuddled all night, woke up mid-orgasm and then it made things super weird and odd to the point where you never really spoke about it again?”
Ellie grins, “No.” You shrug, “Oh, well. I win then,” and take her hand and begin to drag her behind you like a lost puppy dog.
She’s behind you on the stairs again, and you catch her staring when you turn to say, “Let’s go to my room.” As you drag her through the house, Ellie doesn’t see anyone, but she does hear the ominous sound of girl giggles and whispering. Heat blooms in her cheeks, as if she’s got omniscient eyes at the back of her head.
Ellie didn’t get along with peppy girls – too full of inner turmoil to match their happy-go-lucky attitude. The thought makes her clutch your hand tighter, and she speeds up, bumping her shoulders with yours.
“So, what’re the rules?” “Huh?” you ask, looking at her funny. The pair of you pass a group photo, and Ellie wants to stop and gawk – try and find your smiling face – but you tug her along, sensing her motives. “Like,” Ellie starts, stuck on her phrasing. “How should I be around you?” You frown up at her, deciphering her meaning. Slowly, your frown loosens. A small smile pushes into the side of your cheek. You squeeze her hand.
“Just be my Ellie.”
The pair of you go through Ellie’s question, and you help her write up a plan, noting all of her points and the quotes she should use.
Ellie tries to focus, but the whole time she’s thinking about how close you are to her – leaning against her, pushing your shoulder into hers.
She’s sitting on your bed in your room, and she’s hot all over as a result – smelling the scent from your burning candle and listening to the soft music you’re playing out of the laptop speaker.
Your walls are covered in posters. Pictures of you with family and friends and Ellie is surrounded by so much you that it feels like it’s always been like this.
Always been in your room, with her head on your lap, listening to your playlist – Ellie’s got Shazam out, but you’re just sending her the link. On her main phone, now – no busted one at the bottom of her bag.
She’s so busy being with you that she’s not wondering what she’s doing with you.
What are we? She wants to ask, but then your roommate decides to come in.
She pauses in the doorway, flinching as if she’s walked in on something intimate.
Ellie watches your eyes widen an inch, but then you catch yourself, smiling and waving. “Hey,” you greet, and your roommate – actually wearing a hoodie with your university name on it -- smiles, “Sorry, just grabbing my charger.”
“No problem,” you respond, and when she finally flicks her gaze to Ellie – kept on looking around her, like she was panhandling for money on the subway – her smile loosens.
She’s silent as she grabs her wire from her bed and doesn’t look at the pair of you as she leaves. When she’s out of the door, you get up and lock it. Coming back, Ellie gets comfy on your lap again.
“Did she look at me funny?” She’s not sure what your relationship with her is like, so she steps carefully. “I think she fancies me,” you casually explain, and Ellie’s belly flops.  “For real?” You nod, wiggling your brows. “Should I be jealous?” she jokes, and your lips curl, tongue peeking out as you run it across the backs of your teeth. “We were together, once.” Ellie tries to imagine the pair of you together, and she comes up blank. Though, that’s probably because she’s too busy editing the image to clip her face in. “Yeah?” “Mm, at a Halloween party.” You’re grinning too wide. “You’re just fucking with me,” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “I’m not! I was dressed as a cat, and she was this like, sexy nun or something.” “Really?” Ellie asks, raising a brow and pulling a face that says, you’re full of shit. “Fine – I won’t tell you then.” “No no, I wanna hear this.” “What’s with the tone? I thought you’d for sure want to hear about my sexual escapades.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” You pull your lips together and raise a brow. Ellie suddenly feels too hot. Suddenly wants to run very quickly out of your bedroom door. Butterflies swirl in her belly, blood rushes to her cheeks, to her neck, and she feels the tips of her toes go numb.
You’ve danced around each other with this flirty banter for a while now, but it means something more now that you’ve said it out in the open.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ellie lies, hoping the red of her cheeks isn’t too prominent in the warm glow of your bedroom. You don’t lose your pursed lips, and Ellie rolls her eyes.
“Just hurry up and tell me about how you fucked your roommate.” “Say please,” you quickly rebut, and Ellie chokes.
The fuck? “What?” She laughs nervously, ignoring the quick electric bolt that shot through her groin, “fuck off.” “Fine,” you bleat, leaning back against the bedframe. “I won’t tell you then,” and Ellie shakes her head, proclaiming, “You’re insane,” and you grin at her, raising a testy brow, “It’s just manners, Ellie.”
When Ellie had imagined the dynamics of your relationship – but not relationship – it was you saying please. Preferably whispering it with your fingers in her auburn hair. Please Ellie, please do that again.
Ellie sits up from your lap, shaking the image away.
She takes in the curve of your brow, and the teasing slip of your lips. She dips closer – sudden, quick – and relishes in the way your mouth falls open an inch.
“I’m not begging you,” she whispers, not bothering to hide how mesmerised she is by your mouth.
“No?” you speak, matching her lazy tone. You nod to her, “I thought you’d be into that.”
Jesus fucking Christ, what’s happening right now? Ellie thought you’d help plan her essay and be done with it – she’d hoped for some flirty banter, but this was different. This was… Ellie leans closer, propped up by her hand that she’s planted beside your thigh. “If I say please, I want intricate detail.” “If you say please, I’ll give you whatever you want.” This girl…
“Whatever I want?” Ellie quirks. “Yeah,” you respond, and you press your forehead against hers, tone breathy as you repeat, “Whatever you want.”
Ellie can think of a lot of things she wants. For starters, she wants to close this gap and finally kiss you, but she says, “Please tell me your story,” and you smile, all teeth.
“It was Halloween.” “You said that.” “n, we were really drunk, and she’s like – straight straight, right?” You say straight like someone would say sorry. “Mm,” Ellie hums, her belly swirling. She hasn’t moved a fucking inch. Her palm is cramping, but hell if she’s going to lean away from you right now. This is a whole other kind of foreplay. “We’re in the bathroom.” “Here?” she asks, needing details – information. What day was it? Time?
You nod, and your nose brushes against hers. Her face blooms red again, and the brush of your touch makes her brain fuzzy. “We’re making out, and I thought she only wanted to kiss, but then she starts tryna take my top off.”
There’s a sincere edge to your tone. Your eyes are wistful, but you’re beaming – spurred by the excitement evident in Ellie’s eyes.
“Things get heated. She’s touching me everywhere, you know, hands just, between my legs, on my chest. Says she’s wanted me for ages but couldn’t say it, I mean, she’s got a boyfriend.” “A boyfriend?” Ellie asks, and fuck, that makes it worse. Or better? Either way, her body begins to ache like it did that morning – when it was just the pair of you and the world was quiet. Thrums electric and Ellie’s suddenly worried about the electric bill. “Yeah – frat boyfriend. Frat president boyfriend.” “Look at you, miss home wrecker.” You roll your eyes, “you want me to finish the story?” “I said please, didn’t I?” “You’re the worst.” “So…she’s taking your top off.” “Yeah. Then she’s taking my pants off, too. Then says, she’s never been with a girl before, can I show her?” Ellie pulls back with a groan. She can’t help it. Pulls back and falls into your lap, imagining you showing her how to fuck.
Her eyes are glazed over, like she’s somewhere else, thinking, about something else. She rubs her face and listens to your sweet giggle.
“Sorry,” she says, settling back, and you hold your hands up.
“No worries, take your time.”
Ellie waits – patiently. Waiting for you to divulge more information. Please carry on, she thinks. Please please please.
She feels like a kid at camp listening to the teens tell a ghost story around the campfire. And then what?
“You made her come?” she whispers, failing to hide the excitement in her whisper. A small, thoughtful smile finds your lips, and you lean down, hair brushing over her face.
Your thigh pushes into the back of her head, and you smell like a forest.
Your room smells like a fucking forest. Pine and vanilla.
The lights are dim, cloaking the room in a warm glow. She swears she hears trees swaying in the distance, but she realises – faintly – that it’s just the blood rushing in her ears. No trees here, she thinks. No bloody forest.
You’re looking down at her, eyes glittering in the warm light. After a stress-filled silence, you nod, whispering, “against the wall, cat ears still on. Made her come so hard it was dripping down my chin.” “Jesus,” Ellie whispers. Her legs fidget, trying to squirm from the warmth pushing between her thighs. She pushes her hair away from her forehead, even those it’s already tucked behind her ears. “Then what?” she asks, moving in your lap. Then what then what.
Your lips curl into a small smile, “Then we never spoke about it again.”
Ellie feels her eyes go dark with the memory. Imagines a film over them — lost in her own brain. Pictures you crawling on your hands and knees, on the prowl with your cat ears sitting pretty.
What was it you said again? That she was dripping all over your chin?
Her tongue peaks through her lips, pretty in pink, and she notices your small smile curve wider. Though, it’s not kind. It’s edged with something, as if you’ve made a funny and she doesn’t get the joke.
Ellie’s belly drops.
A laugh bursts out of your mouth, and she freezes. Nononononono, you didn’t. “I’m sorry—” you start, hiding your smile, and Ellie’s lips open in shock, then she’s snapping to -- jumping up from your lap, red all over.
She’s looking for her coat, hands shaking “nah, that’s not funny,” she’s saying, all while the faux image of you between a girl’s thighs buzzes behind her eyes.
It was her. She was the girl. She’d even imagined taking your cat ears off and putting them on her head. “Yeah, it was – Ellie,” you laugh, reaching for her hand, and Ellie’s body reacts to the touch.
You spin her into you, pouting, “Come onnnnn, I was playing.” “You’re mean for making that up. You’re a horrible person.” “Awhhh, I’m sworry. I’m sworry, come here –” You pull her into you, wrapping your arms around her neck. Be mad. Ellie thinks. Be mad be mad be mad—oh, but you’re so soft and warm.
She falls into you, hands catching your hips — holding you steady, as her head pushes into the curved gap between your throat and shoulder. You hold the back of her neck, hugging her close.
“I’m sorry, that was mean.” “Made me all worked up,” Ellie admits. The all-familiar ache is back. Then again, it’s never far when you’re around. “Yeah?” you quirk, the tone saying: tell me all about it. “Mm.” “Thinking about me with another girl?” She breathes a laugh, then breathes in your scent, the smell causing her to hold your hips tighter.
“You gotta write my essay now, make it up to me.” Your laugh rattles against her body.
“What you on about? I gave you free material to think about.” “What?” she laughs, squinting her face together. She pulls away, and you look up at her, chewing on your bottom lip.
You glance down at her mouth, and a breath gets caught in her throat. “Nothing,” You grin, and she cocks her head to the side, tightening her grip on your waist. “No, tell me. You made fun of me, you gotta tell me.” “I don’t have to do anything, Ellie.” “I’ll get it outta you.” “Yeah, how?” “You won’t know until it happens.”
“Weirdo,” you scoff, pulling away. “Let me walk you home, they wanna do a group meeting about some charity event later.” “Ooo, little miss sorority girl.”
You smack her chest, “Hey!” but Ellie grabs your hand, laughing as she pulls you into her, catching your hips again. You gasp in surprise, hands catching hers, and your chest pushes into hers.
She feels you focus on the cavern of her eyebrow scar, then the dust of freckles over her nose. The wild brush of her eyebrows, and the small, circular, chickenpox scar on her cheek.
Ellie gets confident or forgets the proximity of your relationship — nothing new — and rests her forehead against yours.
The world gets quiet.
The buzz of your music fades out, and all Ellie can hear is the small, clipped, and shaky sound of your breathing.
Your eyes flutter closed for a brief second, and Ellie wants to kiss you. Always wants to kiss you, but this is different. This is new and sudden and sweet. It’s soft. Gentle.
Your fingers graze over hers, and she imagines holding you like this forever.
Imagines doing this, as often as she likes.
All you’ve done together, and you haven’t even kissed yet. Ellie gazes at your wet mouth.
“Wanna come to mine? We don’t even have to smoke; you can just help me with the intro to my essay.” Your lips twist, and a small smile appears. “Ellie,” you whisper, tinged with a double meaning. “What?” she asks, feigning innocence. “I can’t,” you whisper.
She breathes in deep, eyes closing as she presses her forehead against yours. “Not even for a second?” “Ellie.” “Please?” she whispers, looking at you, and your face falls. Your mouth opens an inch, the red of your tongue alluring. When you don’t respond, Ellie slowly dips lower and tentatively brushes her mouth against yours. Your breath catches.
The skin of your lips is pillow soft, and for the first time, she’s able to taste your lip gloss from the source.   “Doesn’t please get me anything I want?” Ellie hushes. The music has bled into the background, a hum in the walls of your room. It rattles through her toes and dances through her chest, forcing her heart to thrum with life. Your eyes are half-lidded, lashes brushing over your cheeks when you look at her mouth. “That was a one-time deal,” you manage to tease, despite the nerves radiating off of you. “So, I can’t kiss you?” “I never said that.”
Your tone is dangerous. Ellie’s lips quirk into a smirk. “I didn’t say please though?”
There’s a heated 30 seconds where you pluck up some courage. Ellie can hear the cogs turning in your pretty little head before you conclude that, “manners are overrated,” and press your cherry lips against hers, sticky and artificially sweet.  
The world stops in that movie magic kind of way.
Reality flutters to a pause, the music switches off, the natter from your roommates downstairs goes quiet, and Ellie can no longer hear the constant anxious beating of her heart.
It’s just you and your mouth – the press of your lips, no tricks, just the delicate touch of yours against hers.
Ellie is 15 again and playing truth or dare at that camp her uncle forced her to go to.
She’s picking dare and kissing Jessica Carter, the daughter of a man that owned a slew of Ice Cream shops in Salt Lake, and it means so much more to Ellie than it does to Jessica.
She feels the electricity of the kiss pulse throughout her body, like she’s got her soapy fingers in a light switch socket, and as she pulls away and Jessica laughs – giggles, cupping her wet lips, I can’t believe we just did that – Ellie feels the cavern in her chest close just an inch.
She was about to thank her, but then she thought better of it.
Pulling away now, there’s no Jessica, it’s you, and you’re pressing your fingers to your lips like you’re holding them out to a cat, nervous as to what’s going to happen next.
Ellie leans her forehead against yours, lips numb.
You’re breathing like you’ve run a marathon. Then you kiss her again.
Ellie stumbles back from the shock, but you move with her, guiding her back until her legs hit the bed frame.
She makes a quick decision – pulls away and gets back onto your bed, hoping you follow her down. Thankfully, you do – quirk a nervous smile and knee walk over to her, spreading your legs and clambering onto her lap.
You sit back on her thighs with your knees pressed against her hips.
The position is a memory re-lived, except this time, you’re both alert – no sleep to mask the feeling, just the nerves pulsating through your veins. New new new, it’s saying.
Ellie reaches out and steadies your hips.
Taking a shaky breath, she slips her thumbs under the fabric of your shirt and runs the length of your shorts. The skin there burns, heat radiating off of you like a furnace, and it’s as if you enjoy the touch, as you take Ellie’s hands and cup them with your own, keeping them against your skin, before dragging them around your hips.
Ellie catches your eyes, breath lodged in her throat.
It stays there while you run her fingers up and under your shirt, painstakingly moving her hands over your stomach, over your rib cage, and Ellie’s heart swells in her chest as the tips of her fingers feel the underwire of your bra.
Ellie can’t decide what she wants.
There are too many options – kiss you, undress you – and she so badly wants all of them all at once. When you finally drag her palms over your breasts, she feels your nipples pressing through the thin and lacey fabric, and her belly swirls, the pressure pushing low.
Your breath rattles in your chest. “You okay?” Ellie asks, and instead of answering, you bow down to kiss her.
This kiss is different. It’s desperate. Tinged with the need to tell Ellie it's okay, it's okay, as you slip your tongue in her mouth. She groans.
It’s deep and low, echoing around the room, and there’s a fleeting second where Ellie is embarrassed, but you swallow the sound down, hips reacting, pressing into her crotch.
Ellie aches with the memory of before.
She wants to tease you, wants to say, you gonna come like this again? but you drag your lips over to her neck, and she whines pathetically.
Oh fuck, she thinks. Ellie goes liquid, like syrup. She melts into the mattress, hands relax on your breasts, and just – lets you pepper kisses over her throat. Let’s you run your tongue under her jaw, and her hips buck in response. Jolt up into your crotch, and your breathing changes, now coming out in long, deep pulls.
You mark her neck with your mouth, and Ellie feels the suck of your lips in her gut. Her hands go exploring, sliding over your tits, and she rubs her thumbs over your nipples, listening for your breathing stutter.
When you mumble a desperate fuck, into her throat, Ellie suddenly wants you on your back.
She knocks the pair of you over, and you fall back onto your mattress, grinning up at Ellie with a wild smile. You take her in. Eyes flutter over her like butterflies, taking in her statue as she sits on top of you. Suddenly, though, your smile changes. Goes nervous.
“What does this mean for us?” you whisper, and Ellie shakes her head, moving to kiss you again. Now on top, she swells with the feeling of control.
“Don’t think about it,” she mumbles, then tastes cherry again.
Ellie’s a hypocrite because all she does is think about it.
Up all night in bed, thinking about it. Thinking about how she wants you as her girlfriend, but she hasn’t even taken you out on a date yet.
Doesn’t know about your family. Your friends. Doesn’t know your favourite movie, or colour. All she knows is your weed order. The thought makes her sick with shame.
The mumble of her name coming out of your lips brings her back.
You stuff her shirt in your hands, and Ellie wants it off.
Wants your hands all over her, wants to grind her hips into yours like you did hers, with your hands on her hips guiding her.
“Wanna see,” you mumble, tugging at her shirt, and Ellie’s skin prickles.
She drags her hips back, the seam of her jeans pushing against her crotch, and sits up straight. She grins, all teeth, then fists the shirt, pulling it up her chest. The lines of her muscles are revealed, along with a few white scars that dot her stomach and back. She’s wearing a casual cotton bra, but you look at her as if she’s donning silk. “So pretty,” you whisper, blinking up at her, and that shame that sat inside of her dispels. You slide your hands over her chest, and the warmth of them pushes into her bloodstream. “Pretty?” Ellie quirks, needing something to distract herself from the languid movement of your hands. You trail your fingers over her ribcage, then push your pointer up her breast bone, mouth open an inch, ignoring her, and Ellie’s limbs go jelly.
You’ve got your goddamn explorer hat on as you drag the base of your palm between her tits, your spare hand lazily rubbing her hip bone.
“What’re you doing?” she asks, words coming out as a breathy whisper. You flash a small smile, “committing you to memory.” A dangerous pressure builds in Ellie’s heart. Her cheeks bloom red, her skin prickles, and she feels light-headed, as if you’ve removed all the oxygen in the room.
You hook a finger around the elastic of her bra and tug her forward. Ellie catches herself on the mattress beside your head just as you kiss her, pushing your tongue into her mouth and crotch up into hers.
She shudders.
The kiss is all tongue, desperate, as she bumps her nose against yours to taste you. She’s preoccupied with your mouth, so she doesn’t notice your hand sliding between her thighs. When she does, she forgets how to kiss. “S-Shit,” Ellie stutters, caught off guard. Your touch is gentle, just, lazily rubbing your fingers into her jeans. There’s a lot of fabric between you, thus Ellie’s left the chase the friction.
Resting her forehead against yours, she clutches the sheets beside you, rolling her hips into your hand. She blinks at you, opening her eyes, and you’re staring at her like she’s an artwork – trying to memorise every brush stroke.
You bump your nose against hers, flexing your palm. Ellie hums again.
“You sure you wanna do that?” she jokes, clutching onto any semblance of sanity. You give her a lazy smile, lips wet with her spit. “’s ’only fair.
“Not –” Ellie starts, but chokes, your knuckle just hitting the top of her pussy. Her eyes flutter closed, mouth opening an inch, and you must sense the shift, because you keep your hand there, nodding, knowing what she was going to say before she said it.
“Gonna make you come 'cause I want to, not ‘cause I have to.” “Fuck – okay,” Ellie relents. There’s no way she’s going to leave in the middle of this. She can’t. She’d probably collapse mid-way. A pressure pushes between her thighs, hot and constant. Her pussy clenches around nothing and she whispers something. Sounds like your name.
Been a minute since she’d had a hand other than hers between her legs.
Ellie lazily chases your palm, thinking that If she moves too quickly, this moment will poof into a dream. Doesn’t want to scare it away.
To hide her red face, she nuzzles into your throat, roles reversed from that morning, except Ellie didn’t have her hand between your thighs. She tells herself it’s her turn to do that next.
You pop the button on her jeans, and Ellie glances down at your hands, seeing/feeling them tug at the band.
You turn into her head, “Jesus, these painted on or something?” and Ellie breathes a laugh, “Didn’t expect someone else taking them off.” “I need easy access from now on, only sweatpants.” “Noted.” Your smile goes silly, “preferably those grey ones you wore when I came over that time, when I made you dinner.” “Thought you liked those ones, caught you staring at my ass.” “No you did not.” Ellie kisses your neck, “It’s so sexy when you gaslight me.” You huff, “You gonna help me take them off, or watch me struggle?” and a slow grin builds across Ellie’s face. “Wanna see you work for it.” “Well, you’ll be watching for a while. Enjoy the show!” you joke, trying to drag the denim off of her hips. You grunt loudly, brow furrowed as you tug.
Finally, you throw your hands up with a huff, then pout and cross your arms. Ellie’s leaned back at this point, and she mimics your face.
“Defeated by The Gap,” Ellie sighs. “I’m gonna put in a complaint. Tell them that their stupid jeans stopped my girlf—” you catch yourself, eyes widening.
Ellie goes still.
There’s a second where she hears the crowd cheering in the background, but it turns out it’s a kid crying on the street outside.
“What did you just say?” she asks, tone filled with awe. She cannot help the shit-eating grin that splays across her face. It’s so big that you have to cover your face from the shine. “I said nothing.” “Um, I heard something.” “You didn’t hear anything.” “I heard the word girl and then an ‘F’ sound.” “You didn’t! I’m telling you; you’re hearing things. Going crazy.” “Ummmmmm,” Ellie drags, squinting down at you.
She tries to pull your hands away, but you won’t budge. “I heard something!” “I was going to say, girl fellow!” “Girl what?” Ellie laughs, eyes alight with humour.
“Yeah—” you start, pulling your hands away and masking your features. You’re a beacon of control.
“Girl fellow. It’s this new thing I coined. A girl who is a fellow, as in friend.” Ellie squints, “Fellow means boy, you weirdo.” “No it—” you frown. “Does it?” “Yes, have you not seen Robin Hood?” You pause, “No.” “Oh my god!” Ellie erupts. “How have you not seen Robin Hood? I used to be obsessed with it.” “Everything makes so much sense now.” “The fuck does that mean?”
You push your hands into her hips, fingers tickling. “Do you have a pointy bow and arrow at home? A little green hat?” “Shut up,” Ellie laughs, trying to bat your hands away. She catches them. “That makes so much sense,” you start, joking around, “You’re far too into social justice.” “How are you bullying me about world change? You just called me your girlfriend!” “Fellow!” you correct. “That means girl boy!” You grin triumphantly, “Welcome to the 21st century, Ellie.” She rolls her eyes, “you’re so annoying.” “Your jeans are annoying.” “My jeans are cute.” You point a finger at her, “I’m gonna fight your jeans.”
Ellie dips low and kisses you, mumbling into your mouth, “mm, my money’s on the jeans,” and you wrap your thigh around her ass, using it as leverage to roll her onto her back.
You suddenly slide down, standing at the edge of the bed and shoving your hands into the band of her trousers. With a determined look, you manage to pull them down, “fuck your jeans.”
They end up on the floor, and Ellie’s left in a pair of boxers and her bra. She’d clap for you if she wasn’t so suddenly dazed. You appear on top of her, and she automatically wraps her arms around your shoulders, humming contently as you kiss her.
When her brain comes back to reality, she manages to switch positions again, knees pressing beside your thighs. With a tentative touch, you trace your hand over her stomach, distracting her with the wet of your kiss.
When your fingers touch the band of her underwear, Ellie’s breathing changes. It’s all suddenly real.
“Wanna stop?” you breathe, tone sincere and gaze gentle. Despite the bubble in her chest, Ellie has never wanted to continue something more. She shakes her head, eager. “Fuck no.”
Your sweet giggle distills the tension. “Good,” you grin, sliding your fingers lower, “wanted to do this since I met you.”
The tips of your fingers drag over her clothed pussy, gentle and soft. Ellie releases a shaky breath.
There’s just a piece of flimsy cotton stopping you from skin on skin, but she’s so wet that it feels that way, anyway.
Her eyes flutter closed, the sensation lulling her, fueling her with dopamine, and she buries her head in the crook of your neck, flexing her hips to meet your hand.
You drag the corner of your knuckle up her clothed slit, pushing into her clit when you get to the top. Ellie groans quietly, and you grin into the side of her head, rolling your knuckle into her, and she moans.
“Fuck, s’good.” “Yeah?” you ask, and Ellie nods. Propelled by her quiet desperation, you twist your hand and push a finger against her damp clit – the wet fabric showing the lines of her pussy – and roll it gently.
The fabric in the way makes it dirtier, more desperate, and makes Ellie moan pathetically into your neck, forgetting you’ve got roommates. She chases your hand.
Hips stir up, wet heat coiling in her belly and pushing into her cunt. Is this what you felt? That morning in her apartment?
The fire is quick to rise, and it’s only been a couple of minutes of her grinding into your palm when her pussy clenches, heat pushing at the back of her clit.
“Mm,” she hums, inhaling a shaky breath. Her thighs begin to shake. “Baby, you’re gonna make me come,” she hushes into your ear, and she swears she hears you whimper. You turn to look at her, and pout, “Want it on my fingers, Ellie,” you admit, eyes innocent, wide with wonder, and Ellie’s jaw clenches.
Her hips lose their rhythm, and how the fuck is she in control right now? She doesn’t feel that way. Feels like she lost any semblance of control when you flipped her over and pulled her jeans off. “Fuck, okay. Okay. Shit. Take my – fuck,” she stumbles, and you push your fingers under the band of her underwear, asking, “Can I?” in such a pure tone that Ellie has to close her eyes and breathe through her nose. “Yeah baby,” she nods, “s’okay. Fuck. It’s okay.”
You drag your fingers through her pubic hair – eyes on her the whole time – before you stuff your pointer and index against her wet clit. You start to roll the nerve, and Ellie chokes on her spit. Her body shudders.
She’s in your goddamn dorm room in your sorority with your hand down her pants.
You’re watching her intently. Glazed eyes gazing at her features, fingers controlling the way her brows furrow and cheeks bloom red. It’s wholly intimate. Ellie’s slick coats your fingers.
“So hot, Ellie.”
Her body flushes – she has to bury her head in your neck again, where she nods. She grinds her cunt into your hand, forcing you to press harder and roll quicker. “Mm, fuck,” Ellie swears, spit dribbling over her lips, drunk on your fingers, “Fuck, m’ gonna come.” She feels the familiar pressure behind her clit, the heat that sears – almost painful. You twist into her, nodding, saying, “Give it to me El’s.” Then, “please.”
The wave rushes up and pulls her under, rendering her voiceless and still, before it crashes, and she gushes over your hand, chasing the spin of your fingers as she shakes. “Mm, god, god, shit” she whimpers, voice muffled by your neck, trying so hard to keep quiet, but fuck, she’s not in control of her body. She clenches the duvet as her pussy clenches and un-clenches, clit spasming, whole body slick with sweat.
Her hips grind into your fist, eyes rolled back, mumbling curses into your throat, and she’s clenching the duvet so tight that her knuckles go white.
Then someone calls your name.
You freeze. Fingers go still.
Ellie wants to cry, but somewhere in her drunk mind, she realises the severity of the situation.
When you don’t respond, your name gets called again.
“Fuck,” you curse, then “Ellie, baby, I’m sorry, you gotta get off of me.”
Ellie manages to find the energy to roll off of you, and you get up, legs stumbling before you reach the door.
“Y-Yeah?” you call out through the wood.
Ellie lays boneless on your bed, breathing deeply through her nose. Her boxers are pushed low, pubic hair on show, but she doesn’t have the power to sort herself out.
She should be nervous at the idea of being caught, but fuck, her clit still throbs with the memory of your fingers. She languidly blinks at the ceiling, trying to calm her heart.
How the fuck did that just happen?
“Meeting soon, you coming?” the faceless voice calls, and you mumble a curse before saying, “Yeah! Gimmie a minute.”
When you turn to her, Ellie’s already gazing at you. You quirk a small, sad smile, and Ellie nods, understanding.
“Lemme just,” she starts, rubbing her face, “find the energy.” You giggle at her. “Let me help you put your stupid jeans on.” Ellie props herself up by her elbows, beaming, “My top down there, too?” “Got it.”
She manages to shove her jeans on, wincing when she knocks her sensitive clit. You eye her.
“Listen, I—” you start, clearly flustered. You motion to her, “—Would take better care of you after but.” “Whoa – what?” Ellie cuts you off, shoving her shirt on with a frown.
You purse your lips, “like, cook you dinner or kiss your forehead or something.” “You’ve already cooked me dinner, and you can kiss my forehead whenever you want.” “I mean. I don’t usually make a girl come and then dip.” “Oh,” Ellie frowns, “But this is different.” You pout, “Still feel bad.” “Don’t,” Ellie firmly spouts. She takes your hands and kisses your forehead. “I feel good, you should feel good.” “It was good?” you ask, suddenly lit up and eager to hear more. Ellie laughs. Her body is filled with a warm, buttery feeling. She’s still drunk on you, lethargic from coming, and she doesn’t have the space to panic.
Her subconscious tries to tell her everything that has happened that should cause her concern.
She nearly called you her girlfriend, then made you come on her double bed with a flowery bedspread. Now she feels bad because she doesn’t have enough time to give you adequate aftercare. Dude.
Still, Ellie shows no alarm when she kisses your forehead and says, “I’ll call you.”
It’s only when she gets home, looks in the mirror and sees her lips glittery with your lip-gloss, that reality sets in.
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iammattswife · 2 months
Text
20 year olds playing with kids toys (Matt’s daughter joins)
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DadMatt DadMatt DadMatt !!!
I haven't written in so fucking long please excuse how terrible this is.
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Also I named the daughter Kiara cus I like the name and wanna name my kid that, was literally so close to naming his wife after me.
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“This is the Fairy-Corn Princess Surprise, I didn’t think we needed this. This was one of the last things we grabbed but Matt thought we needed it because it has over 35 princess surprises inside” Nick states as he puts the egg-shaped toy down on the counter, prepared to start opening up their first toy.
“Well, I also thought Kiara would like it- she’s been obsessed with fairies recently, figured why not get it for the video then give it to her”
As they’re opening the egg, commenting on the unicorn inside Matt notices something on the instructions paper, excitedly, he gasps. “You can wear the wings!” he exclaims
“Okay hold on this is important- How do you get the wings off!?”
“This is about to get real. Hold on I’m getting Kiara”
“Sweetheart!” Matt can be heard in the background of the camera, calling out for his daughter as he’s walking towards the living room where his 3-year-old daughter is sitting on the carpet having a tea party with her mom, Ella (her soft, adorable, stuffed bear) and Ivy (the family’s cat).
“Hey cutie I have something for you” Kiara jolted up, excitedly, her dad always had the best gifts. She jumped up into his arms, him catching her with ease, used to her liking to be held. She had her legs wrapped around his waist and her face in his neck as he softly rubbed her back with his right hand, holding her up with his left.
He turned around going back to the kitchen but before getting in front of the camera he softly asked, “Are you okay with being in the video baby?” she nodded, excited for what her dad had for her. “You sure? I need words, princess, if you don’t want to be in it, I can show you after we’re done. There’s no pressure I want you to be comfortable”
“I’m sure daddy” she nodded her head to him. “I’m always comfortable with you” she added, making his heart melt and his smile widen, his eyes gleaming with content. “I’m glad baby, want nothing more but for you to be happy and comfortable” he says, kissing her head as he walks towards the counter where his brothers are waiting for him.
Usually, Matt and his brothers would film their Wednesday video earlier in the morning so Kiara would be in preschool at the time. However, she recently fell victim to the flu which resulted in her parents keeping her home for a few days. It was now getting later in the night and Kiara had gotten out of the bathtub a few hours ago, While she was getting dressed in her favourite pyjama set- long sleeve pink top with “princess” written on it with a cute sparkly crown and pants with the same design on the right leg, she had made both her mama and dada promise to have a sleepover in her room that night- as she always does when she’s sick.
Matt was not going to break that promise. So, although it was late, and an hour past the girls' bedtime, they let her stay awake until they finished filming.
“Hey pretty girl” Chris says to Kiara looking at her in Matt’s arms as he sits back down next to him, putting Kiara on his lap. “FAIRY WINGS!” Kiara exclaims, her eyes widening as she looks on the counter quickly snatching them as if a robber was going to come for them.
“Jesus Christ girl no one’s stealing them from you” Nick states as Matt laughs at his daughter’s excitement and possessiveness over the wings.
“You want me to put them on you?”
“Yes! Please I want to be a princess fairy” She quickly replies, dragging out the words. “Alright come on”
Matt grabs her from her hips and sets her up on the counter, her fuzzy socks keeping her warm from the cold. She turns around facing her dad ready for him to put the wings on her, so she could be a real princess fairy, with real fairy wings.
“Arms up” Matt tells her as he sees his wife leaning on the entry to the kitchen, watching her favourite people in amusement.
Kiara quickly puts her arms up causing her shirt to slide up with her- “you’re getting taller baby we need to get you big girl pyjamas” Matt says as he puts her shirt back down knowing the weirdos that are on the internet.
He’s careful with his words, most people would say “bigger” but he did not want his daughter to overthink his wording, even if she was only an innocent 3-year-old unaware of society’s criticism on “bigger” people.
“No I like these want to wear em’ foever’ and ever” she replies, absolutely shocked by the idea of getting rid of her super special perfect princess pyjamas
“We could get you similar ones baby just a size up since you’re growing up- you’ve had those for over a year baby you’re getting older” Matt says as he ties the string of the fairy wings around his daughter's chest, already planning the new pyjamas he’s going to get her.
“I don’t think it’s supposed to tie behind her, isn’t it?”
“Nick it’s wings dude”
“Yeah dude”
They all chuckle at Kiara’s agreement with her uncle Chris.
Matt ties a bow with the strings. “Is that good? Not too tight right?”  He asks not wanting the pressure tied around her to hurt his baby girl.
Kiara grabs the stuffed unicorn from the counter hugging it tightly around her chest as she jumps back onto her dad's lap. “Wait Kia here” her mama says handing her the tiara and wand, going to stand behind Matt with her arms on his shoulders “Thankyou mommy, now I’m a true princess fairy” she gleams happily.
“Wait who did we get?” Matt says looking over the paper that came with the toy as he leans back into his wife while another arm is wrapped around his daughter, making sure she doesn’t fall off his lap. 
“That’s Ruby”
“That’s clearly Ruby, Matt”
“Is it Ruby?” he says as he looks at the unicorn in his daughter's grip.
“Oh then they want you to collect them all so it’s a scam”
“There’s more? I want them all! Can I have more please?” Kiara asks hopefully giving her dad those eyes that he can never say no to. “I don’t think we can get them all sweetheart, there's too many but we can get another one next time we go to Target” Matt’s wife replies before he manages to, knowing he would’ve said yes and bought her thousands of dollars’ worth of these toys if she didn’t step in.
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As the boys look over the next toy Kiara plays around with Ivy in the kitchen, getting bored from the lack of princess toys and wings. She can still hear her dad and uncles talking and looking over toys, when another toy comes up and her dad says, “Oh you got to turn her on” they all erupt in laughter.
She looks up, confused about what’s so funny about turning on a toy so you can play with it. “I meant like on the bottom dude, the actual power button- you guys are sick” Matt says as the laughter calms down, Kiara, confused, asks her dad “What other way would you turn her on?”
“Oh sweetie I think your dad knows plenty of ways to turn a woman on especially your mum” Chris gets slapped in the back of his head. “Don’t say that Chris” Matt says in shock, not wanting to explain to his daughter what they’re talking about. “Why?” Kiara asks, still confused.
“See Kiara when two people love each other very much” Chris starts only to be stopped by Matt once again. “Like my mommy and daddy?” she questions, Chris is unable to answer as Matt’s hands are over his mouth, blocking out his words.
“Exactly like your mommy and daddy”
“Nick!” Matt exclaims in shock.
“I’m confused” Kiara states looking at them annoyed.
“Don’t worry about it baby, Uncle Chris and Uncle Nick are being stupid as usual, ignore them” Matt replies hoping she’ll let it go.
“Do you turn mommy on?” She wonders trying to get to the bottom of this. Loud laughter erupts from the girls’ uncles. “Uhm- well you know when me and mommy kiss?” Matt says to her, trying to get around it without having to lie or keep something from his daughter, after all, it’s a normal thing. As she nods, he continues “Well- It has to do with that, okay? It’s only done when two people are in love and married” Matt is obviously aware that two people do not have to be in love or married to kiss or "turn eachother on" but he didnt want his baby knowing that.
“Oh okay” Kiara replies, pleased with the answer of knowing more about love.
She’s always loved love, especially when it has to do with her parents, she loves knowing they are in love, she loves watching them kiss, laugh and hold each other. She believes she got lucky to have parents so in love.
“Pretend this is my second kid, okay? You guys are uncles again and Kiara has a sibling” Matt says as he starts feeding the toy lamb its bottle.
He starts having déjà vu of when Kiara still drank out of the bottle, he misses those times but is so happy to see her grow up.
He starts to picture himself feeding their second kid, knowing the “pretend” would soon be real as the married couple found out the night before that they’re 6 weeks pregnant and expecting their second. He was so excited and couldn’t wait to start telling people he was going to have another baby, especially couldn’t wait to tell Kiara she was getting a baby sister- or brother, but he secretly wished it would be another girl.
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As Matt is playing around with the Barbie doll he and his brothers opened he feels a tug on his pant leg, he looks down and sees his daughter who previously left to go potty back in the kitchen, he notices she has taken off her tiara and tried to tie her hair up, she always had issues with turning the hair tie, but she’s trying hard to learn to do her hair and he’s proud of that. “Yeah baby?” He asked her as he looked down at her as his brothers continued to play with the doll.
“Can you put my hair up please” she mumbles, getting tired.
“Yeah, baby of course” He lifts her, setting her down on his lap
“What do you want sweetie? Ponytail?” He asks her as he starts gently leading her curly hair back and grabbing it all together, untying some strands that got stuck on her fairy wings.
“Can you do a braid please”
“Yep” He replies, gently stroking his hand over her head as he kisses the back of her head, starting to separate the hair pieces for the braid.
He can notice she’s getting tired, it’s well past her bedtime now but what worries him is when he hears a sniffle “Are you okay sweetheart?” he asks in worry that she’s crying as he finishes up the braid. She wipes her nose with her long sleeve “Yeah daddy, just have to blow my nose” Matt sighs in relief, knowing she’s not upset just sick.
He grabs a hair tie from his wrist where he always keeps extras in case she or his wife needs one.
He ties the end of her hair, makeing sure to keep the braid secure.
He grabs a small packet of tissues that he stored in his pants in case she needed to blow, knowing how annoying a runny nose could be, he opens one up for her and holds it in front of her nose as she blows on it, he scrunches it up and puts it away on the counter to throw away later.
Matt continues with the video keeping Kiara snuggled up on his lap as she too starts to play with the Barbie dolls.
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Kiara is now softly held in her mom’s arms as she walks back into the kitchen, “Hey you guys almost done? She doesn’t want to sleep without you there Matt”
He looks up, eyes gleaming as he sees his two favourite girls walk in the room “Yeah we’re practically done just have to do the outro” Nick replies as Matt leans closer to his girls, pretending to knock on both of their heads with the toy hammer, making both of them giggle.
“Daddy is like Bob the builder with the belt” Kiara states, laughing at her dad.
“Oh yeah?” Matt replies, starting to tickle her which causes her to laugh and her mom to giggle at them.
Matt grabs her out of her mama's arms and tightly hugs her close to him, grabbing his wife’s hand and pulling her into the hug as well.
“Family hug” he exclaims giggly, as he kisses his daughter's head, then his wife, and pretends to kiss his wife's belly knowing he can’t do that without striking suspicion.
“Also, just in case you guys are wondering we’re not throwing all of this away, my mom’s going to donate it to some little kids she knows” Nick tells the camera.
“Kids in need” Matt adds.
“Except unicorn and wings” Kiara chimes in.
They all laugh at her eagerness for the unicorn and its wings, “Except for the unicorn and its wings, Kiara wants to keep them” Nick adds to his previous statement.
“I want to keep everything, but I can share” The girl adds.
“So kids will have fun with these toys” Nick starts to continue talking directly to the camera but Kiara interrupts.
“Can we give the kids my old toys too? And the ones I don’t play with? I think some of them would like my toys”
“I think some kids will love your toys sweetie” Her mom adds, proud of her daughter for wanting to donate,
“Yeah Kia that’s great”
“That’s so sweet of you Kiara I’m sure they’ll appreciate it”
Matt gleams brightly at his daughter “I’m glad you want to donate Kiara that’s really good” He says proudly
“You’re so sweet and kind” he kisses her cheek.
“Sweetest girl in the world” her mama continues, kissing her other cheek.
Matt leans closer to his wife, pressing a kiss on her lips.
"Daddy?"
"Yeah baby?"
"Did that turn mommy on?" She asks referring to their previous conversation.
Lond laughter erupts from all of the boys.
"What!?" Matt's wife exclaims confused as they all continue laughing
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“Okay, we’ll see you guys next Friday!”
“Bye!” Kiara says as she continues to drag out the word, waving goodbye to the camera.
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Comments:
Fan1: OMG KIARA!!! MISSED SEEING HER IN VIDEOS
Fan2: came for the triplets, stayed for kiara
Fan3: MATTS SUCH A GOOD DAD?? AND HE KNOWS HOW TO BRAID???
Fan4: the way he holds her and is so gentle with her 😭😭😭 wish i had a dad
Fan5: the facr that he made sure zhe was okay being on camera is so so cute and adorable and hot and sexy
^iammattswife: so real for that comment
Fan6: Need more kiara content please
Fan7: THE TURNING HER ON JOKES LMAOSOO
Fan8: Kiara is so sweet u can tell shes being raised right
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Tags: @cindylcuwho @keerahsturn
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ravenromanova · 8 months
Text
My little girl
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Pairings: Step mom Natasha x Step daughter reader (Steve is the father)
Warnings: SMUTTTT!!!!!! DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18+! Mommy kink, Strap on use, Pet names, Cheating, Fingering, Oral. DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDERAGE!
Summary: Natasha cant wait to have her little girl anymore.
Kinktober Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Send me requests!!!
~
The day had started out like normal for you since you had gotten home eat with your dad and step mother, then watch movies in your room til dinner. But unfortunately right after breakfast your father had gotten a call that he was needed on a work trip ASAP. It wasn’t uncommon for your father to be whisked away by work… sometimes you thought he was cheating on your step mother with how much he was gone.
So after you hugged him by he was out of the door faster then you could blink. You were kinda sad you weren’t gonna spend halloween with him since you literally came home for that but oh well. After he left you retreated back into your room despite your step mother trying to talk to you.
About an hour or two after your father’s departure you went down for dinner. Your stomached rumbled as you smelt whatever it was Natasha had made for dinner.
“Take a seat moya lyubov ill bring it to you” She says with a smile as she hears you walk into the kitchen. You do as you’re told and sit down as the mahogany table watching the woman skate her way around the kitchen. When she was done making your plate she handed it to you with a kiss on the head and a smile.
“Thank you” The words barely made it out of your mouth since she had made you a little flustered. She noticed your flushed cheeks but didn’t say anything and sits down to eat next to you.
“So i was thinking that since your dads gone why dont we go to that haunted maze that’s in town tonight? It’ll be good to get out of the house.” Natasha asked breaking the silence the two of you were in. The thought of you and Natasha alone brought a shiver down your spine and made not so pg thoughts run through your head.
“Sure. That’s sounds better than just watching movies all night.” You agree while taking a sip of your drink and try not to choke when you see her smile.
“Great! I’ll get us tickets for around eight so after were finished go get dressed lyubov” She couldn’t contain her excitement about being able to spend time with you if she tried. Even though she was with your father she had been madly in love with you since she met you. Granted she never said anything but in light of recent events with your father she’s throwing all her resolve away.
Natasha had thought your father was cheating on her for months and, it was confirmed a month ago when he came home with a hickey and lipstick on his collar. That was when Natasha had made a plan to get back at him through you in many ways. She had started her plan last week when you came back for break. It started out with soft touches, sweet praises, small gifts and now tonight was her time to finalize her plan.
The two of you finished dinner with light conversation before you got up and got ready. You couldn’t help but put some extra effort in your appearance wanting to impress your stepmother. Black ripped jeans, a red tank top, leather jacket and boots is what you decided on along with your hair in braids. Once you stared at yourself in the mirror for five minutes you finally decided to head downstairs.
When you descended down the stairs Natasha was putting on her boots and you choked a little at how good she looked. She was wearing a grey long sleeve accompanied by a similar leather jacket to yours, black jeans and had her hair braided. Her attention turned towards you and she smiled as her heart thumped in her chest.
“You look so good dekta” She praised walking up to you keys and purse in hand. You blushed at her praise and muttered a ‘thank you’ before walking out to her car. She opened and closed your door before getting into the drivers side and driving off. The car ride was filled with the both of you singing along to halloween songs and laughing.
When she pulled into the maze your eyes widened at the decorations that lined the maze. Natasha parked the car and opened your door while holding out her hand for you. You took her hand with a smile and the two of you walked to the ticket booth.
“Hi welcome to the haunted maze of westview! How can i help you?” The woman dressed as a skeleton asked once you and Natasha approached her.
“Hi! We have two tickets for eight under Romanoff” Natasha answered the woman with her signature smile that made you swoon. The woman gave you both wristbands and told you both to have a goodnight with a smile. Natasha took your hand and started to lead you to the entrance of the maze. And of course to your lucky a zombie jumped out at you right as you entered the maze.
“Fucking shit!” You screamed as the zombie retreated back into their corner. Unknowingly when you jumped you had fully pushed your body into Natashas and her hands found home on your waist. When you realized how close you were to her you tried to pull away but she held you close.
“Stay next to me dekta i’ll protect you” She whispered in your ear and continued to walk you two through the maze hand in hand. As the two of you walked along multiple creatures jumped out at you causing you to shriek and squeal like a child. Natasha laughed everytime you screamed and jumped back into her arms.
In all reality she was loving how scared you got because you sought solace in her. She would wrap her arms around your waist and hold you close smiling to herself each time. By the time you two neared the end of the maze you were significantly scared and a mess in Natasha’s arms. But of course you couldn’t leave without one more group of creepy and disfigured creatures popping out and scaring you half to death.
“Okay can we go home now?” Your voice was starting to shake from how scared you were. Natasha took your hand and nodded before kissing your hand and bringing you to her car.
“I didn’t know it would be that intense dekta im sorry” She apologized with a look of pity in her eyes pulling you into a hig for a second. Your arms naturally found themselves wrapped around her waist and your head laid on her chest.
“It’s okay it’s not your fault im a wimp” You joke lifting your head up to look into her deep green eyes. For a moment you could’ve sworn you saw something more than just a step mother kind of love from her. And you were right and that became clear when her hand cupped your face and rubbed your cheek. She stared at you with more love and admiration than you’ve ever seen.
“Let’s get you home dekta” She whispered kissing your head then taking your hand in hers again. You gratefully take her hand and let her lead the way to her car before getting in the passenger seat. She got in the drivers side after she closed your door and drove off yet again.
Natasha kept one hand n the wheel and one hand on your thigh the whole time she drove back to your house. The two of you sat in comfortable silence during the ride home just enjoying the music on the radio. Your thoughts were running wild when she rubbed her thu,b on your thigh, the action set a straight pulsing to your core. It was hard to focus on anything with the way her hand felt on you. When she pulled into the driveway she moved her hand to your cheek and made you look at her pulling you out of your thoughts.
“When we get inside i want you to go upstairs, strip, get on the bed and wait for me” She demanded fully losing her resolve. You didn’t mutter a word but instead just nodded your head not completely understanding what’s happening. You bolted out of the car and unlocked the front door before booking it to your room.
As you ran to your room you couldn’t contain your excitement or the wetness in your panties growing. Once you finally reached your room you undressed as fast as your could and then laid on your bed waiting for her. It took her a grueling fifteen minutes before she walked into your room with a red strap on in her hand and a devilish smile.
“Good girl listening to mommy” She groaned out taking in your fair skin and pretty face. Natasha wasted no time in sauntering over to you and placing herself between your thighs. Her hands found their way to your stomach and she squeezed the soft flesh.
“So soft, So pretty baby” Her praise sent a shiver down your spine which in turn made your nipples hard. She moved her hands to your chest and rolled your nipples in between her fingers.
“Oh fuck mommy” The moan was broken as it past your lips. The arousal in between your thighs was dripping down on the sheets at this point. It was only a matter of seconds before one of your nipples was in her mouth and she sucked on it. Your back arched from the pleasure that you felt.
You aren’t quite sure how you got here but gods you were loving it. Her mouth felt so good on your chest you swear you almost came right then.
“Please fuck me mommy” You beg clawing at her back earning a chuckle from the redhead. “Please” The need was very evident in your voice.
“Okay okay okay” She laughed making her way down your body. Your glistening pussy made her groan when she came face to face with it. She wasted no time again as she stuck two fingers into you making you moan loudly.
“Oh fuck yes” You screamed when her mouth came down on your clit. Her fingers worked relentlessly hitting your g-spot over and over again while sucking your clit. You were in a haze from the pleasure you felt as your orgasm came closer.
“R-Right there mommy…FUCK!” Your orgasm ripped through you like you’ve never felt before earning a satisfied moan from the older woman. The second you came on her tongue she knew she was addicted for life.
“Such a good girl dekta” Your stepmother praised rubbing small circles on your clit with her free hand while still hitting your g-spot with the other.
“M-Mommy c-cant too sensitive” The pleas fell on deaf ears as she pulled another orgasm from you. She smirked to herself and pulled her fingers out and then licking them clean.
“So fucking sweet” She continued her praises grabbing the strap securing it to her hips. Your eyes fell down to the strap and your eyes widened in excitement yet again. It was in this moment she went from your step mother to the love of your life.
“I’m gonna fuck you for real now okay sweet girl?” She asked kissing her thighs lifting them to wrap around her waist. You gladly wrapped your legs around her which brought her closer to your dripping and aching pussy. Your hands wrapped around the faux cock and directed it to you.
“Please mommy” And that plea right here is what broke all of her restraint. She slammed her cock into you making you scream out and claw at her. She picked a fast pace as she rammed herself into you.
“OH FUCK!” You screamed feeling the strap hit all the right spots. Natasha smirked as she looked down at you and saw your face contort with pleasure.
“That’s it baby take it take mommy cock” She demanded feeling her clit brush against the strap making her moan. Her moans were music to your ears and brought you closer to your thrive orgasm.
“R-Right there mommy -oh fuck-“ The sentence barely came out as you came on the strap with a shriek. You sat up and grabbed onto her and she decided to wrap her arms around your waist and fuck into you harder.
“My sweet little girl takes me so well” Natasha praised chasing her own orgasm still fucking into you hard.
“Yes mommy! All for you” You moaned attaching your lips to her neck needing to distract yourself from the pleasure. Her head fell back once you started sucking on her neck and that was all she needed to cum harder than ever.
“Such a good girl” She kissed your forehead as she laid you back on your back and fucked your through her orgasm bringing you to your fourth.
“Thank you mommy” You squeaked feeling her pull out of you slowly. She discarded the strap on the floor then laid next to you breathlessly.
“Oh im the one that should be thanking you” Her laugh came out airy as she rolled to her side to look at you. She pulled the covers over the two of you before she pulled you closer so your back was pressed against her.
“Well either way that was amazing” Your hands found their way on top of hers giving them a soft squeeze. She hummed in agreement and laid with you in a dazed state. It took you a few moments before the reality of you sleeping with your step mother hit.
“Fuck-“ You berated yourself making Natasha turn you over to face her. Her eyes were filled with concern as you kept muttering to yourself.
“What’s wrong dekta?” She asked cupping your cheeks making you look at her.
“We just had sex! And you’re married to my father! That’s what’s wrong” You sat up and ran your hand through your hair. “Oh my gods what have i done?” You ask more to yourself than her.
“Hey hey hey look at me its okay” She said softly making you shake your head in response.
“No! No! it isn’t okay!” You said in a frantic state disgusted with yourself and what you’ve done.
“Your father has been cheating on me” She finally says causing you to halt your head shaking.
“W-What?” The disbelief was hard to hide as you spoke. It’s not like the thought of your dad cheating never happened but for it to finally be confirmed shocked you.
“I found out last month.. You know his secretary? Sharon?” She asked and you nodded. “Well apparently those work trips have been to the four seasons in jersey city” Natashas voice came out smooth and soft as she spoke almost as if she didn’t care.
“Why dont you seem more upset?” Was all you were able to ask still in shock.
“Because i found someone much better to love” She answered cupping your cheek. It took you a moment to realize what or more so who she was talking about.
“M-Me?” You asked pointing to yourself with wide eyes. She shook her head yes with a smile on her face.
“Ive wanted you since the day i met you. Marrying your father was the biggest mistake of my life” The redhead admitted staring into your eyes. You smiled back at the woman nodding your head in understanding.
“So what does this mean?” Your voice was a little shaky as you spoke but she gave you a kiss to help with that.
“It means that i want a divorce from your father… And then if you want me i want to be with you” She admitted and for the first time you saw the older woman blush.
“I want you” You said quickly not giving her any time to doubt herself. Natasha smiled and brought you in for another kiss. That night you two laid together figuring out how Natasha would bring up the divorce to your father.
In the months that followed your father and Natasha got a divorce and, you and her moved to new york together during the summer so you could finish school. Natasha was more than happy to leave westview and move to the big city with you. She found a job with a private security company a month after you two settled into your new apartment.
You and your father no longer spoke since he decided to start dating sharon before his and Natashas divorce was finalized. But in all honesty you couldn’t give two fucks about your father when you are this happy.
Who knew one haunted maze would really be the start of your new life?
~The end~
A/n GUYS ITS THE 16TH! 😭 So i just had to post a nat fic in dedication. I miss our girl sm!
i do not give permission for my work to be translated or copied on other cites
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toxicanonymity · 8 months
Text
The Raid.
2.7k, dark!Javi P x f!reader | SERIES MASTER
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There's now a HOT GIF by @iamasaddie and HOT ART by @bonezone44. PT. 2. | THE RAID masterlist
Your gaze falls down his tac vest to his tight jeans and a bulge you didn’t see before. Peña follows your eyes, looks down at himself, then sighs.  "Ay, pobrecita" (poor little girl), he whispers insincerely, putting on a frown. He uses his gun to nudge your chin up and bring your eyes back to his. 
WARNINGS: I8+, canon-typical violence, drug abuse, dubcon blow job (power dynamic / transactional / drugs), jacking off, fingering, cumplay, manhandling, handcuffs, gunplay, degradation, kidnapping
A/N: Yes, it's raider Javi. . . inspired by the original raider Joel fic (not the whole series and it will not progress the same way). Tysm 🖤
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You're lying on the sofa in your boyfriend Jack's slum house while he and a buddy count stacks of cash on the kitchen table and bitch about their street dealers. It’s a typical night. One friend is still playing grand theft auto on the floor. Every surface is littered with bottles, takeout boxes, crumpled up foil, and baggies.  You're laid out on the sagging sofa, scrolling your phone, about to drift off.  
There's a loud rap at the door. "DEA." Your heart jumps to your throat and you jolt upright. 
"FUCK," Jack yells and grabs his gun off the table.  "Go to the bedroom, you'll be fine," he tells you as he heads to the kitchen and out the back.  You sit there in disbelief that he's leaving you. The DEA doesn't knock again before busting down the door.  "DROP YOUR WEAPONS."  
Several agents swarm the house, wearing bullet-proof vests, crouching as they prowl around, pointing their guns. 
Two men approach you while a few more agents mill around the house. 
"Don't let anyone leave," says a mustached man on his way through the house. 
"Got it, Peña," confirms one of the men standing in front of you. Peña nods, glances at you, then sees Jack running away and rushes out after him.  
Both of the men in front of you are big. One taller, one more muscular. They look at you like you're a piece of meat. They guard you for a few minutes, keeping their guns trained on you.  They talk about you like you're not there. 
"Pretty girl,” the tall one says. 
The other man takes a step back, craning to see out the window before answering, "we got time, Ed." Ed, the taller one, puts his gun in his vest and unbuckles his belt. Meanwhile, you bolt off the sofa and try to dodge the other man on your way to the door. A third agent catches you and shoves you back to the original two, asking "Lose something'?" He sticks around.
Ed, with his pants still unbuckled, slaps you across the face with the back of his hand. It stings, but you laugh at him as if it doesn’t hurt. 
With that, the newest man steps forward and raises his gun to your head.  You flinch and your courage drains away. "Clothes off, he demands." You look to the door for help, but no one's coming. Yet another agent is making his way over. Your'e shaking as you strip down to your underwear with four men now facing you. 
Ed lewdly grabs his crotch. "Woulda been a whole lot happier with this." Then he brings his gun to your face and prods your cheek. "But let's see what this pretty mouth can do." 
. . .
A few minutes later, you’re relieved to hear voices and footsteps outside. Peña skids through the door, panting. He removes a pair of aviators as he takes in the scene. Under his green bullet proof vest, his tan shirt is darkened with sweat. His brow furrows at you in your underwear with the barrel of a gun in your mouth. 
"Dejenla, pendejos," (leave her alone, assholes) Your heart flutters with appreciation as they slowly back away. 
"She tried to run," one says. Peña points his gun at them, arms straining his sleeves.  The men back away obediently. "Outside. All of you," he tells them calmly but sternly. They disperse, slowly and sheepishly. "NOW," he booms. They leave the door cracked. “Cerrado” (Closed), Peña snaps, and they shut the door. 
When the door closes, it’s just you and Peña. You reach for your shirt on the sofa to put it back on, but he points his gun at you. "No. Don't fucking move." He’s still catching his breath.  He walks backwards, keeping his gun fixed on you as he makes his way to the front door. He reaches behind himself and locks the deadbolt, then holds the gun with both hands again. 
"You wanna go to jail?" He asks and you shake your head no. He approaches you in no hurry, still aiming the gun at you."Cause that's what's s'posed to happen."
You look into his big, brown eyes, trying to connect with something. 
"Here’s what happens," he starts, his breath still somewhat labored. "I take what’s mine and the DEA’s. . .” 
You nod. 
“and when I let them back in, they take what they want.”  He gestures to the drugs and money on the table, then wipes his brow. "So. . ." He takes a moment to breathe, then raises his eyebrows. "you want them to take what they want," he gestures his gun down your body. "Or want me to take you in?"  He wets his lips and his eyes fall to your bra for a moment. 
"Neither,” you plead. 
He sighs and finally lowers his gun. He uses his left sleeve to wipe his brow but the sleeve is almost too short. His hairline is matted with perspiration.  He bends forward and braces his hands on his thighs to look at you, right hand holding the gun against his jeans. 
"Here's what we're gonna do. . ."  His face is tense, but his voice is low and soothing. "We're gonna make a deal, aren't we?"  He nods. He wets his lips and looks you over. You nod back, just barely.  Your gaze falls down his tac vest to his tight jeans and a bulge you didn’t notice before.
Peña follows your eyes, looks down at his pants, then sighs. 
"Ay, pobrecita" (poor little girl), he whispers insincerely, putting on a frown. 
He uses his gun to nudge your chin up and bring your eyes back to his. 
"Be a good girl for me," he says. "And we'll see what I can do." 
You nod. 
“You can call me Javi,” he offers, and you tell him your name. Your wallet is right there anyway. 
"Can I put this away?" He asks, holding up his gun. You nod.  "Nowhere to run," he warns you as he slips the gun into his vest. He adjusts himself then braces both hands on his thighs again and hardens his face. "Try something, and I'll let them back in for an hour, then cuff you myself. ¿Comprende?" 
You nod again. 
"Dime que comprendes" (tell me you understand).
"Yes," you confirm. "Entiendo." (I understand).
"Que bueno, pobrecita" (Good). He lets his eyes fall down your body hungrily. "How should we make this deal official?" 
You reach for his pants. He puts his hands out of the way and rests them loosely on his hips. His pelvis pushes forward as you palm the warm, ample bulge in his tight jeans. The front of his shirt has come slightly untucked from his foot pursuit, exposing a sliver of tummy that expands with his breathing as his cock hardens under your palm.  You catch a waft of his sweat and it sends a pang between your legs. You give him a slow, sensual rub with pressure. 
“Mm, good girl.” 
His massive hand comes to your face.  He grips your jaw and makes you look at him. You pause your hand then continue rubbing him and you feel yourself getting wetter. Then he squeezes your mouth open and looks at your teeth. His face is inches from yours and he reeks of tobacco.  "Not bad. . . at least you stay away from the pipe,” he raises an eyebrow. He looks at the side table of the sofa, littered with empty prescription bottles. "How long have you been using?" 
You don't answer. You slowly rub him and let your mind escape to a world where this is just a nice dick hardening warmly under your palm. 
"When's the last time you were clean more than a week?" 
Unsure what he wants to hear, you say, "Maybe a year."
"And how long have you been with that jackass?"
"I'm not."  You're not.  Not anymore. Not after this. 
"Mm-hm," Peña nods judgmentally and you feel a wave of shame when you see things through his eyes - a trap house and a loser boyfriend. "How does he fuck you?" 
You don't answer.
"Does he make you cum?"   His hips push forward and the outline of his tip presses against your palm.
“What do you want,” you snap defensively and his dick twitches under your hand. 
“You need to figure that out,” he says flatly. You meet his eyes and see desire. In different circumstances–like if he wasn't such an asshole–you'd hop on this man's dick in a flash, so you try to pretend he’s just a guy.
You reach for his belt buckle. His lips pout and his eyebrows go up with a tilt of his head. “Not a bad idea.” You unbuckle his belt, then unbutton and unzip his jeans. He’s not wearing underwear. His dark hair is trimmed close, almost shaven. His cock is thick, tan, and gorgeous. You work to free him from his restrictive pants, and it’s quite a package you’re looking at. 
His dick bobs heavily right in front of you, almost grazing your nose.  You take it in your hand, thumb resting on its crown.  You gently squeeze and admire it and it’s not long until he’s fully hard. Then you glance up at him and he’s looking at your mouth. You hover your lips near the tip and glance up at him again. He gives a go-ahead nod.  You suck the tip into your mouth.  Your tongue flattens under his shaft, then curls around the smooth, veiny skin. Holding his dick in your mouth, you tug his pants down lower and take out his balls before returning a hand to his cock. His balls are on the bigger side of average, symmetrical and only a little fuzzy. 
“Ohh, pobrecita.”  His voice is soft and dark, like Duvalin (nutella). 
Desire stirs between your legs.  He sucks in air through his teeth as you suck more of him into your mouth, and his tip nudges the back of your throat.  You cup his balls in your free hand and he lets out a low, quiet moan.  
“Tan suave, tan mojado. . .Tu boquita inmunda” (So soft, so wet, your unclean little mouth). 
You give his balls a light squeeze and his hands go to the back of your head, one following the other. He pulls your head down on his cock.
"You're a good little slut," He pants and thrusts his hips, his length sliding down the back of your throat– you try not to gag. "Just need somethin' in this mouth to keep you outta trouble." Tears sting your eyes from the gag reflex.  "Look at me, pobrecita." 
It's not easy but you try to look up. You watch him study your face for a few seconds as he fucks it.  Then you can't suppress it anymore.  You gag and pull your head away, afraid you might actually retch. His grip relaxes, but one hand stays on the crown of your head. He takes his cock in his hand. He kneels down on the floor and with his free hand, begins to take your panties down. You're suddenly very aware of how wet and throbbing you are from having his dick in your mouth.  He's soon aware, too, but he doesn't make a move to get on the sofa with you. He strokes himself with your saliva. "Open your legs." 
You obediently spread them but not far enough. He grabs breast and shoves your upper body back into the couch cushion, then he turns his attention to your cunt. He looks at it studiously and knits his brows.
“Que lástima” (what a shame), he mutters as he admires your glistening hole. “I’m a generous lover, too.” 
“¿Que lástima?” you ask. 
He shakes his head apologetically at your pussy, then meets your eyes. "Won't stick my dick in junkie cunt, sweetheart." 
He returns his gaze between your thighs and wets his lips.  “Juicy as it looks.” You huff and begin to close your legs. He places his massive hands on your knees, spreads them again, then runs his hands up your thighs and spreads them more.  He tilts his head as his thumbs reach the creases of your thighs.  Then he plants his thumbs on your outer lips and spreads you open to the cool air.  His nose twitches as he examines you.  Your clit throbs and you gush wetness. He puffs his cheeks out with an exhale. His dick is still hard between his legs, and he’s not touching it – his composure and self control is a little psycho. 
He gathers your slick, sniffs it with a barely visible snarl, and adds it to your saliva on his cock.  Then he fists his cock while staring between your legs. His free hand reaches up to tear your bra down on both sides, and he lets out a quiet moan at the sight of your tits. He jerks himself with his right hand and his left hand goes  between your legs. 
You're laid back on the sofa with your hips at the edge and he's kneeling between them.  He runs the backs of two digits through your folds, then inserts his thick middle finger and rotates his hand palm up. He pumps it twice and adds a second finger. 
He pumps himself and fingers you and when he's about to cum, he points his cock right between your legs.  He cums all over your mound, dripping down through your folds. He wipes his tip off on your inner thigh.  Then, his massive left hand returns between your legs, sliding through his own mess.  He fucks it into you with two fingers. He watches your face with a subtle, devious flicker behind his stare as he keeps fingering his cum into you. 
The lewdness ofi t makes your walls tighten around his thick digits. He curls them so his hand is rubbing your clit and his brow furrows as you begin to come undone. Your body tenses and your hips lift into his hand. Your back digs into the threadbare cushion. You bite your lip but fail to suppress a moan. He sucks in a deep breath watching you cum. 
“Good girl.” He withdraws his fingers and brings them to your mouth.  You suck off the salty, tangy blend and swallow it. 
He gently pats your cunt. "This is mine, now," he nods, then clenches his jaw and looks back and forth between your eyes.  "We’re gonna get you clean, pobrecita.  Entonces puedo usarla" (Then I can use it). Then he stands up and puts his cock back in his pants. "Put your clothes on, let’s go," he says. He picks them up off the sofa and drops them in your lap. 
Javi is watching you get dressed when someone knocks at the front door. Peña moves toward the door, and on instinct you start to make a break for the back exit, but he sees you in the corner of his eye.  “Ay, putita,” (little slut) he mutters as he bolts toward you.  He catches up just as you'ved opened the door.   His massive hands grab your arms roughly from behind, and he shakes you. "You were doing so fucking good," he spits through gritted teeth as he wrangles you back into the kitchen. He slams you face first up against the fridge and pins you with his left forearm while he grabs his cuffs. 
"You asshole. You're really taking me in? On what??"
He regains his composure and brings his mouth to your ear in a near whisper.  "Not to jail.” 
"Then where are you–" 
His voice is deep and quiet. "Callate, pobrecita." (Be quiet). He closes the cuffs, then tightens them. "It's for your own good." 
—---
If you like this, consider raider Joel (read warnings).
------
Thank you so much for reading and engagement!! Your support and interaction really keeps me going when other things drain me and drag me down. I love you guys.
Note: In general, if someone else’s work inspires yours, please share their work and give a shoutout.   
—----
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rustedhearts · 2 months
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i want your things in my room (fratboy!steve harrington x fem!reader)
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summary: steve harrington: resident frat boy heartbreaker. handsome, charming, good in bed—what's not to love? if only he loved you. based on this sexy thought of mine
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
✶ rolly’s roller wheels blurbs commissions! ✶ blurbs!
tags: frat boy!steve, situationship, asshole-ish!steve, pining, kind of feral reader because i was feral writing this, smut.
"i want your things in my room, i miss you all of the time. i stalk myself on the internet just to see what you'll find...you look so cool, I wanna die. is it too soon to say what's on my mind?"
— in my room, julia wolf
for the lovely 🫧
wc: 2,095 (oops)
delta phi. saturday april 12th, 2009
Cords of muscle suffocated under the tight sleeve of a red cutoff—ripped while weight-lifting on the porch, you imagined. Knowing Steve, it was intentionally and meticulously cut in the bathroom mirror for a blurry cellphone image sent to another fling.
You never received texts like that. The only texts you received were late in the evening or at the crest of midnight:
you up?
coming over. unlock the back door.
The one trip-up in this eight month routine came two weekends ago at nine p.m.
coming over, brought you a surprise. want you to wear it saturday.
It was a tight white t-shirt promoting Steve for Delta Phi Senior President. You wore it like he asked, lingering in the basement corner of another Saturday party with a lukewarm beer you wanted to throw up when you saw hordes of other girls wearing the exact same thing.
He didn't even look at you that night.
But he messaged, an hour after you skulked home with a hoodie zipped over his face printed on your left tit.
didn't see you leave. can i swing by later?
He did. And you let him crawl over your naked body under a pink duvet and place his mouth wherever he liked. He didn't apologize, and you swallowed down the sharp sting of tears every time he told you how pretty you were—knowing every girl wearing his face that night received the very same treatment at one point.
You weren't special. You knew that. But he had such a way of making you feel like you were. Catching your eye through passing bodies, lifting his mouth in a sideways grin, wiggling his fingers in a tiny wave when he knew no one was looking. Cupping the back of your head in the checkout line at the coffeeshop when he passed by, because somehow he always knew when you were there. He never said a thing, but he had your heart stuttering every single time.
So, here you were. Another Saturday night in a dark Delta Phi corner, sipping a Twisted Tea and struggling to swallow past the lump of hurt in your throat when Steve's head turned to follow the path of a pretty and petite blonde. Watching his biceps flex under his sleeve, his hips turn in a pair of Levis often rumpled on your floor. You washed them once, when he came and got sick in your bathroom after a particularly intense recruitment night.
Steve lifted a wide hand and swept it through the front of his hair. You could almost smell it, the Old Spice soaked in those chestnut tresses. You used his bathroom on the second floor one time, found the red shampoo bottle resting on the edge of the tub.
And maybe you popped the cap and smelled it, closed your eyes and imagined Steve was right in front of you, pressing his cheek on your chest the way he did post-coital: panting wordlessly, letting you feel the warmth of his flesh clinging to yours, running your fingers through his hair to bring him back down.
Steve's eyes cutting your way yanked you from your warm, gut-wrenching thoughts of him. Over the swell of his own bicep: a pair of hazels fixing on your figure across the room. Your heart lurched to your throat when you locked gazes, fingers twitching to wave. He wouldn't wave back. You knew without a doubt.
But those lips quirked up in acknowledgement, and that was enough. Enough to have heat lapping at your face and coiling in your stomach. Enough to know he'd message after the party, when most of the crowd dispersed and his buddies wandered off to bed. Enough to know you'd feel his breath on your face tonight, feel his mouth over your body.
That was more than enough.
✶ ✶
You waited.
Waited—fully dressed on your bed, lamp clicked on in the darkness of the night—with the skin of your thumb between your teeth. Gnawing between glances at your phone, waiting for it to buzz with his name. The deeper the night grew, the hungrier you became. Hungry for his tongue sliding around your mouth, his fingers digging into your ribs with every pull back against his body. His palm cupped around your throat the way it often did when he took you from behind, keeping you braced against his chest so he could feel you struggle to catch your breath.
You waited. You bid your roommate goodnight through a closed door and waited. You peeled your outfit off layer by layer, checked your messages for his name, and waited. You laid back on your bed holding your phone to your faded-t-shirt-clad chest, and waited.
The hunger nestled between your legs, aching and pulsing with soreness. It was terrible how conditioned you were for Steve's attention. How horribly you craved it.
Somehow, his air of coolness made you want it more. When he avoided your eye, when your texts went unanswered, when he brushed by at a party and looped your pinkies together—you wanted him something awful.
But you wanted him most when you had him. When he was running his nose through the sweat on your neck, big hands sweeping over your stomach under the t-shirt he guided over your head. His t-shirt, always asked for in a groggy, early morning exchange before he left. When he was whispering—unwilling to wake your roommates—and promising that you were the only one he'd ever felt this close to.
"Swear nobody's made me feel so fuckin' high before," he'd say. "Love your body, baby, you're so pretty."
Tears squeezed at your lash line, burning as they spilled over. You swiped at them irritatedly, setting your phone on the nightstand and turning away from it.
And then it buzzed.
You flung your hands toward the vibration, snatching the scratched device eagerly.
coming.
missed you.
Falling back against your pillows, you let out a long, blissful sigh. He missed you. That was new.
Your phone buzzed with the long-awaited "here" text, and you had to catch yourself on the stair railing to avoid running toward the door. But the way you swung the door open and tugged him in did little to hide your excitement, and it had Steve grinning wide as you hurried back toward your room.
"Wait," he chuckled, stumbling over his sneakered feet. "Christ, you're quick to the belt tonight."
You clamped your bedroom door shut carefully, spinning around to find Steve toeing his shoes off at the end of your bed. His tongue prodded at the inside of his cheek when he turned to face you again. The smirk on his mouth was delicious.
Suddenly, all that hunger coursing through you fizzled to coyness. But Steve liked when you were shy. He thought it was cute.
"C'mere."
The way he called to you—softly, a sweeter version of his usual tone—always had your nerves tingling.
You stepped in front of him, giggling when he plucked at the faded, stained material of your bed shirt near your chest.
"Sexy 'jamas," he chuckled, swooping down to press your mouths together.
"Thought...you weren't...coming," you mumbled between detachments and quiet, wet smacks.
He said nothing this time, letting his hands drop to your hips to steer you around. He guided you onto the bed, and the pair of you moved like a well-oiled carnival ride until you reached the pillows. Two heavy palms pressed into the feathers on either side of your head, and Steve's mouth continued lapping at yours vigorously.
One thing about Steve was that he was always pleased to incorporate foreplay. He loved the art of kissing, and he knew it well.
Steve pulled away far too early, moving his lips to your cheek. Down your jaw, under the junction where nerves tingled for his attention under your ear. You fisted the thin fabric of his shirt as he dragged his nose across your jaw.
"Did ya miss me, honey?" His voice took on a low gravel that brought your hairs to their ends.
Your eyes fluttered between opened and closed, hips shifting on the bed. Your breath already shallowed.
"Mhm."
"Mhm? Tell me," he cooed, nose rubbing a small circle into your cheek, breath hot on your skin. "Tell me you missed me, pretty girl."
You blinked your eyes open, glazing over the length of his lashes and flecks of honey and emerald in his gaze. You could barely feel your own body, could barely form a sentence on your own.
"I missed you," you whispered dazedly.
Steve moved his eyes down to your stomach as he dragged the t-shirt toward your collarbones. His hand glided over your navel and between your breasts.
"Missed you, too. Take your shirt off f' me, sweetheart."
He knelt at the end of the bed and watched you undress intently, eyes tracing the curves of your body as he pressed to his knees and fumbled with the buckle of his belt. When the pair of you were bare, he returned to his place hovering above you, and you took your chance to roam your hands over his chest. Firm, warm, smooth-skinned. Lifting your back off the bed, you buried your nose in his throat and inhaled deeply. Steve's chuckle rumbled through you, but you couldn't find it in yourself to feel ashamed.
"Smell good," you remarked quietly.
Steve tipped his head away from your face until you settled back into the pillows. He grinned down at you there, hair curling over his forehead and toward his brow.
"Yeah? That's new."
You shook your head, tongue fat and dumb in your mouth. Your fingers traced down his arms bracing your head. "No...always smell good."
A swallow bobbed in his throat. The back of his finger nudged your cheek from the pillow beside you. "Yeah?"
You nodded this time, meeting his eye with what he could only call a lovestruck stare—all rounded and doe-like. "Yeah."
He wished you'd shut your eyes. He wished you'd stop looking at him like he was some sort of saint. He wished you'd stop letting him get away with all the shit he put you through.
Steve was quick to switch gears, pecking a short, painful kiss to your mouth before flipping you by the hips onto your stomach. You gasped at the quick and irritated pull of your hips upward until your ass was arched in the air. He pressed on the dip in your back and you let your stomach drop toward the mattress.
"Good," he sniffed. "Look good like this."
Because he couldn't see your eyes.
And you let him fuck you like that, pummeling so deep that you were buried in the mattress by the time he was done. You didn't cum and he knew it, and the pair of you settled flat with quiet gasps. He didn't press his cheek to your chest this time, didn't tangle your fingers together between sticky bedsheets. He laid there only a few silent moments before reaching for his pants.
"Hey," you called softly, propped up on your elbows. "You're not gonna stay?"
The broad muscles of Steve's back flexed and rolled as he hoisted his jeans over his hips and secured his belt. He pulled his shirt on without turning around, feet shoved into his sneakers before you could even sit all the way up.
"Nah," he said, turning only as he headed for the door. "Gotta...um, study."
Brows furrowing, a small giggle slipped from your mouth. "Study? You don't study."
Another swallow, noisy and paired with two eyes fixed on the floor. His voice neared a whisper when he spoke again. "Trying something new."
You watched him open the door just enough for him to fit through. You hugged your soiled sheets around your bare body and felt the hunger dim to hurt again.
Steve stepped into the doorway and turned his head an inch, but not enough to see those pretty features again. "Later."
You wanted him to miss you again. You wanted to press your nose back into his neck and breathe him in. You wanted him to bring his words down low where they belonged when he spoke to you. You wanted to be his girl for a few moments more, to feel his affection through every drag of his mouth and hands.
But the door closed, and you were left to watch him jog across the street through a sliver in the drapes instead.
Just another t-shirt. Just another girl in love with Steve Harrington.
852 notes · View notes
yandere-daydreams · 9 months
Text
tw - fem!reader, emotional manipulation, possessive behavior, prolonged imprisonment.
“Mistress prisoner?”
There was a knock, the sound of hoofed feet shuffling against a tile floor. You shrunk into yourself, suddenly thankful you’d chosen to take such a claustrophobic linen closet to seek refuge in, that Neuvillette’s awful gowns provided so much fabric for you to bury yourself in.
“Mistress prisoner? Are you alright?”
Another knock, a round of hushed whispering. Clearly, he’d sent more than one, this time.
“Should we get a healer for you, mistress?”
You swore under your breath, burying your face in your knees. Curse your bleeding heart.
Slowly, taking pains to wipe the lingering tears from your cheeks without wrinkling the fine silk of your sleeve, you pushed yourself to your feet. He was a bastard of a man, an underhanded thief masquerading as the living embodiment of justice, but tragically, Neuvillette had caught on to the only weakness you had in this palace of unearned punishments and hollow promises. You would be able to bear it if he thought of you as a petulant child, too stubborn to accept his protection or his love, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be quite so heartless when it came to the melusines.
You pulled the door open, resting your shoulder against the frame. He’d sent three, this time – all wearing modified garde uniforms and none standing taller than your waist. They were clustered close together, but as you emerged, the centermost girl stepped forward, this one totting pastel pink skin and curling horns and cheeks you’d give anything to squeeze. “We spoke with Monsieur Neuvillette,” she started, clearly shy despite having appointed herself as the leader of their little group. When she paused, her gaze fell away from yours, dropping to her feet. “He said you wouldn’t mind if we asked why you don’t want to attend the opera with us, tonight.”  
Oh, you were going to throttle that old man.
You forced yourself to smile. No part of you wanted to be seen in public with your captor, to hear onlookers praise his kindness, his willingness to care for even the most irredeemable of criminals while knowing he wouldn’t make it past the first aria before finding some reason to pull you into some unused dressing room and abuse his authority yet again. But, explaining the length of your hatred to the creatures he showed so much fondness toward would be like trying to tell a child that their favorite candy was the source of their aching cavities. You were better off saving your breath. “Neuvillette didn’t mention that you’d be coming with us.”
“It was supposed to be a surprise.” It was the blue one, this time – with flowers dotted across her arms and legs and a tone so meek, it was all you could do not to take her into your arms and promise her that you’d go to as many operas as she could stand to attend. “He said it’d help to raise your spirits.”
You let out a soft coo, crouching down to their height. “It was a very sweet idea,” you said, fighting not to melt at the sight of their little, doe-like noses and big, star-filled eyes. “And I very much appreciate that you three would care enough to try and cheer me up. It’s only…”
You paused, clicked your tongue. Predictably, the third member of their little trio (who had yet to uncross her arms or drop her adorably pointed glare) chimed in. “What is it? We don’t have all day, y’know.”
“Well, I might not be at my best, but Monsieur Neuvillette’s been awfully lonely lately too.” Lonely – that was one way to put it. It was hard to imagine he’d even be capable of feeling anything so fundamentally human. “I’m afraid, if I’m having so much fun with all of you, he might feel a little left out. You can understand why I wouldn’t want to do that to him, can’t you?”
There was a round of nodding heads, of words of affirmation. The leader piped up first, both hands balled into fists and wide eyes bright with a resilient spark. “We won’t let Monsieur Neuvillette get lonely!”
“We won’t leave his side!”
“We’ll stick to him like glue!”
With a breath of a laugh, you pulled the little trio into your arms and press a kiss into the tops of their heads. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear, girls. I’ll see you at the opera house tonight, and remember–“
This time, you didn’t have to fake your smile.
“Don’t let Neuvillette go a moment without your delightful company.”
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fandoms--fluff · 8 months
Note
Hey do you think, you could do one of the Mikaelson have a little sister like 2 years old and always what to stay with Nik and Elijah….. also she is so jealous that Camil and she do something to her and Nik tells that she is a mini me
Loathing
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Flufftober, October 6th
Mikaelson little sister reader x Elijah Mikaelson x Klaus Mikaelson
Warnings: mention of blood
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You're sitting in Elijah's lap, playing with two Chelsea dolls you got some years ago, while he's on the phone with someone. It's quiet except for the sound of your big brother's voice every now and then.
It's all peaceful until Kol comes crashing into the room and sits on the ground in front of you. You tilt your head and hand him one of the dolls. "Play!" You tell him.
Kol nods and plays with you, making a horrible high-pitched voice for the doll which makes you laugh, but Elijah cringes and hopes he stops soon.
It's been ten minutes, "What the bloody hell is that horrible sound?" Klaus walks in, he clearly just got back from wherever he was. Most likely Cami, but he never discloses that information, knowing you've openly shown your dislike for her.
"Our brother's wonderful voice for a doll" Elijah sighs, putting his phone down.
"Hey! My voice is amazing!" Kol exclaims, hearing the insult and sarcasticness in Elijah's answer. "Yeah!" You cross your arms like Kol is.
"See! Y/n knows what she's talking about" Kol says as Klaus picks you up out of Elijah's lap and places you on his hip. You wrap your tiny arms around his neck and relax your head against his shoulder.
"Y/n is also two, I think you need a better defense" Klaus raises an eyebrow. "Technically she's over a thousand like all of us... I'll shut up" Kol says, seeing the looks he's getting from the big brothers.
Kol, having both dolls in his hand, places them down on the coffee table before leaving the room. He plans to go into town and create some havoc that all of his siblings (besides from you) will have a fuss about, but it'll be fun.
Later in the week, there's a party being thrown in the abboiter. It's all vampires and humans for them to feed on. Some to kill and some to compel away.
"Well, this seems to be quite the turn out" Rebekah walks over to you and Klaus, who's carrying you tightly in his arms. "Indeed it is, sister" Klaus smirks.
"Look at you all dressed up" Rebekah coos, running a hand through your hair. "I did all by my'elf" you say excitedly. You're wearing a long sleeve dark purple dress that flows out under the bodice, and matching purple glittery jelly shoes that are put on the wrong feet. But Rebekah didn't want to tell you that and make you feel bad or make you upset at yourself. You also have a couple bead bracelets on your wrists and a heart necklace that Elijah gave you that you never take off. Your daylight ring is on your right pointer finger as well.
"Well good job, beautiful girl" Rebekah kisses your forehead before noticing Cami making her way over, and leaves to go back into the crowd.
"Hey Klaus," Cami smiles. "Camille, You look beautiful" Klaus kisses her. "Mmm, thank you" she says.
You make a disgusted facial expression before facing back the other way and laying your head back on your big brother's chest. You wonder how thus girl seems to be everywhere and why she always comes up to you and your big brother. Why don't they just make her go away like other woman they have before. You don't know what happens to them, but you assume it's fine.
Your siblings make sure you're kept out of all the killing and death during your existence.
As they keep talking, you try to ignore them to the best of your abilities. How much longer, you keep thinking. You try looking for Elijah, so your other big brothers can take you away from them, but no luck. You can't seem to find him anywhere from where you're placed on Klaus' hip.
As soon as you hear her chuckle at something Klaus said, your 2 year old self gets fed up. So, you take off one of your bracelets and throw it as hard as you can at Cami's face.
Now you may be biologically two, but you're still an original vampire, and with that comes a lot of strength. The bracelet made a great slash in her pale cheek, now blood running down her face.
Klaus quickly vamps into his room with Cami and you still in his hold. He sets you down on his bed as he bites into his wrist and offers it to Cami.
As she drinks blood from his wrist, Elijah comes into the room, noticing Klaus vamping out of the courtyard with the both of you.
"What happened?" Elijah asks. You stay quiet, as you sit crisscross apple sauce on the bed, happy that Elijah's here, and even though Cami is now healed, you did something for her to stop talking. You really don't like her.
"Um, I'm fine, though I think it's time for me to go" She sighs, glancing at you before walking out of the room to go back to her apartment.
"What happened was someone decided to get a bit violent" Klaus informs him, facing you. Elijah follows his gaze, landing on your face. You have a slight smile on your face. Yay! you made Cami leave.
"Why did you hurt Camille, y/n?" Elijah walks over and crouches in front of you so you're face to face.
"Bad Cami! Don' li'e her" answer front forwardly. Elijah raises his eyebrows. It's known you're not a fan of the woman, but you've never actually said it out loud up until now.
Klaus chuckles. Elijah turns his line of sight to him, "What do you have to snicker about?"
"Oh, just the thought of y/n is slowly turning into a mini version of me" Klaus smiles and holds a thumbs up at you. You have a big grin on your face. "Niklaus, do not encourage this behavior" Elijah sighs. It's going to be a long life if this is going to keep happening regularly.
A new rule is set in place to make sure that you're never in the same room with Cami with less than one of your siblings. And that one day they can hopefully get you to like Cami and not loathe her.
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luveline · 3 months
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hi jade!! i love eddie and roan always, can we get a ficlet from their earlier days where roan is smaller. just whatever you want to write about, thanks love you💖
Eddie isn’t sure how you’ve ended up like this, but he’ll take it. He’s never laid in someone’s lap, at least not with a girl he was dating, never had someone like him enough to start scratching his back of their own volition. You draw sweetly gentle lines up and down the length of him with your nails, never pausing, an automatic expression of love. 
He’s pathetic, pressing his face to your stomach. He really hopes you love him. 
“Can I sleepover?” you whisper. 
“You can move in,” he mumbles. 
“You shouldn’t flirt so much.” Your hand climbs up to his hair, where you continue your awful lovely scratching. “Can I have a kiss?” 
You shouldn’t be allowed to whisper like that. Eddie turns his face away from your stomach and lifts his chin. He’s spoiled —you lean down and kiss him. He doesn’t do any of the hard work. 
“Daddy?” 
Eddie touches your face and finally forces himself to sit up. “Ro?” 
She’s wearing pyjamas you bought for her with good intention but misinformation, the legs pooling around her feet and the sleeves over her hands. Her smile showcases a row of pearly, baby teeth. She looks cute, but her hair is alarming. 
“What have you done?” Eddie asks, cringing. “Babe, are those stickles again?” 
“They’re stuck,” she says. She realises he’s alarmed and begins to panic, reaching up, “Oh no!” 
“It’s okay,” Eddie says, quickly burying his own emotions. He should’ve done so from the start, but you’d yanked his defences down and left him a slovenly mess from all your sweetness. Plus, it’s not like he’s the calmest guy in the world. “Baby, it’s fine. Come here, let me see.” 
“Wait,” she says tearfully. 
“Baby,” he says again, softer still, “come here, I’ll fix it. I promise.”
“Cross your heart?” she asks. 
Eddie pouts at her wobbly lip. “I cross my heart, Roanie. Just come sit down.” 
You squeeze his thigh with a distinct sense of pride, though he has no idea what he’s done. Roan drags herself to the couch and Eddie picks her up to sit her between your leg and his, getting a better look at the problem, red, green, and yellow stickle bricks lost in her hair. It’s not as bad as it seems closer up. 
He draws a line with tow of his knuckles across her shoulder. “It’s fine,” he says, kissing her cheek, “it’s okay, no biggie. I’ll go get a comb and we’ll brush them all out! Your beautiful hair will be fine.” 
“Thank you,” she says. 
You make a funny sound. “Aw, Ro.” You take a stickle brick into your hand carefully. “Can I help too?” 
“Please, please.” She turns her huge eyes on you and grabs your arm. “Please don’t pull.” 
“Never, babe.” 
You and Eddie take some time to pull the bricks from her hair, their tines like Velcro stuck between her dark curls. It takes ages, and she grows frustrated, but Eddie holds her hand in his and says, “Just be patient, sweetheart, you gotta wait,” while feeling especially tender. He forgets sometimes that she’s not his mini me after all, that her experiences of fear are fresh and new. “It’s going okay, Ro, it just takes ages.” 
“It’s hurting,” she whines. 
He doesn’t believe her, but maybe it is a little uncomfortable. “Do you want to take a break? You’ll have to stay really still.” 
“Please pull them out.” 
“Alright, babe.” He tucks his hair behind his ears. “Let’s do this.” 
Eventually, with Roan near tears and Eddie worried you’re overwhelmed, you untangle the three bricks from her hair and brush away the matted tangles. “Sooo silky,” you murmur, leading the comb down to her small shoulders. 
“I think we’re done. You are restored to your former glory, babe,” Eddie says. 
Roan lifts her hands up and feels along her head. “No bricks?” 
“Totally fixed.” 
Roan stands up on the couch. Eddie eyes her suspiciously, but she wraps her arms around him and kisses his cheek, reminiscent of how Eddie thanks her when she’s being good. “Thank you, dad.” 
He snorts. Roan beams at him and spins on her socked foot to hug you. You don’t get a kiss. You look overjoyed anyhow, quick to wrap her up and pat her back. “Thank you,” she says. 
“You’re welcome, princess.” You meet his eyes over her hair. “You’re more than welcome. No more stickles in your hair through, right?” 
“Right,” she says with an eager nod. 
Eddie shakes his head at you. This is the third time this month. 
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videovamptramp · 9 months
Text
foolish one
// ellie is one of the biggest players on campus, and reader just so happens to be the only girl immune to ellie’s charm. at least, that’s what she thought. //
warnings: fuckgirl!ellie, reader is a bit difficult, ellie is a simp for r but also a huge womanizer, this is angsty cause ellie and reader are both dumb fucks <3
a/n: part 2 of heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and i) is coming sooon, but until then here’s an ellie fic i wrote a few months ago <3
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you were known at jackson university for being a good girl. sure, you’ve been to your handful of frat parties, who hasn’t? but you always kept your grades up, and made sure you never hooked up with any of the rich wannabe’s here. not because you thought you were better than anyone, no never that— mainly because you’ve worked too damn hard to get out of your shitty neighborhood to let all of your progress get ruined by a broken heart. so you refused to date or even flirt. you had friends and you were known for being vibrant and kind, but the second someone crossed a line you’d shut them down. you could be colder than ice when you wanted to be, and as sensitive as a baby at times, but you always knew how to keep yourself together. you always kept your heart safe.
maybe that’s what attracted ellie to you so badly. the fact that you weren’t easy, and how unaffected you were by whoever showed interest in you. she’d never heard about any of the jocks or frat boys hooking up with you, and the stories she has heard she knew weren’t true. you are far too much of a good girl for that. that’s exactly what makes ellie want to ruin you. god, she seems to always notice how cute you look in those tight pants, or how beautiful your hair looks each day. she even noticed how you cut it a few months ago; nobody else did because you only cut a few inches, and when ellie complimented you on it, you actually blushed. the interaction gave the brunette hope that she had a chance.
when ellie first approaches you, it’s because she needs help in her english literature class. she normally has excessive skills when it comes to talking to girls; she’s nearly slept with half the cheer team, started drama throughout the schools debate club because she slept with three members, and there were even rumors going around about her and one of the hot professors at the school. you knew ellie williams was nothing but trouble; but there was something in those evergreen orbs that caused you to soften whenever she was near. she’d smile or blush sheepishly, and it would make your stomach flutter in an unfamiliar way that terrified you.
so when ellie asks for your help, you instinctively say yes. that’s how you end up meeting ellie in the campus library every thursday for a study session. though, it’s the fourth session and each time ellie seems to get more and more side tracked. she can’t help it; the weather is getting hotter, and those tight jeans you’ve been alternating between throughout the winter turn into tight denim shorts. that black long sleeve top you’re wearing, hugs your body just right. ellie can’t help but let her eyes roam down. you notice every time. whenever she’d look at you, her eyes would trail you up and down, and then back up to meet your gaze. she’d lick her lips and flash you that grin that made your knees weak. though you had to continuously remind yourself that her grin probably makes every girl around here weak.
“you going to jesse’s party tonight?” ellie asks hopefully, and you shake your head. “no, i have plans with joey tonight.” you confess and ellie tenses up. “joey? frat boy joey?” she asks, and you can hear the clear disdain in her voice. “yeah, he needs help studying. like you. he’s coming here after you leave.” you explain and ellie purses her lips. she doesn’t want you to be alone with joey. the library is empty and her stomach sinks as she thinks about how pretty you look tonight. “maybe i can stay extra, just so you don’t have to deal with him alone.” the offer hangs there for a moment, and it shocks you. “why wouldn’t i want to deal with him? it’s only an hour, and he doesn’t seem too bad.” you say uncertainly, though you don’t want to tell her you’d prefer not to be alone with him. you thought the library would be a little more full tonight, but the fact that there’s a frat party tells you nobody’s going to be worried about studying.
maybe that’s why joey agreed so quickly. “he’s just a creep. i’d rather you not be alone with him.” ellie states and you feel your heart lurch in an unrecognizable way. “careful, williams, it sounds like you care.” you taunt, and she stares at you with those intense green eyes. “what if i do?” she asks, and your breath gets caught in your windpipe as you lose all train of thought. “i mean we’re friends now, right? i’m allowed to care about you.” she blurts out, and you chew on your bottom lip. you’ve never heard about ellie williams being friends with any girls. except for dina who’s her roommate, but she’s dating jesse. you shrug, “i guess we are friends… fine, you can stay.” you give in, turning away before noticing her relieved expression. “but what about the party?” you question uncertainly, and she shrugs, “i’d rather be here.” she admits, and that stupid knot in your stomach returns again.
for the next few weeks you and ellie get ironically close. your library study sessions end up moving to your dorm, and ellie meets your roommate michelle. the blonde is crazy and a party animal, but it turns out you’ve both been friends since middle school. you’re so carefree in your dorm, and the posters and pictures on your wall show ellie you’re actually an extremely outgoing person, regardless of how you try to portray yourself. every time she learns something about you, she falls deeper for you. whenever she makes you laugh, her heart lurches and she can’t help but stare at you. she’s never felt this way with anyone else.
though it doesn’t take you long to bring up all of ellie’s rendezvous. “c’mon ellie, cat and katherine in the same week?? they’re friends! what did you expect?” you ask, giggling mercilessly as she tells you why cat and katherine got suspended last month. she rubs the back of her neck, her cheeks reddening. “i didn’t realize they’d tell each other!” she responds and you raise a brow. “seriously?? girls have bigger mouths than guys when it comes to hook ups!” you tell her, and she smirks. “do you?” she inquires tantalizingly, and you roll your eyes. “i don’t hook up.” you answer simply, causing her to smirk. “or you just don’t kiss and tell.” she points out, your cheeks flushing at the insinuation.
“no, i really don’t hook up. i think it’s pointless to sleep with someone you don’t actually have a connection with. meaningless sex doesn’t sound appealing to me.” you explain, and she blinks a few times. you shake your head quickly, realizing how that sounded. you didn’t want to offend her, so you rush to add on, “not that there’s anything wrong with it!!” you save yourself and she laughs. “hey, don’t stop on my account. i mean hooking up is fun, but that’s all it is; you’re right, it doesn’t mean anything.” she reveals, but she doesn’t tell you how glad she is to know you don’t hook up. she knows how hypocritical that would sound.
“would you at least consider dating?” she asks curiously, and you purse your lips. “probably not.” you respond, “it’d only get in the way of my studies.” you add while she only nods. “oh. so if i asked you on a date you’d say no?” she questions smoothly; your cheeks feel as though they’re on fire. “i’d definitely say no. especially when you were just bragging about ‘bagging’ cat and katherine in the same week.” your face expression is serious, but she can see in your eyes there’s traces of hurt mixed in your orbs. “but those are just hookups. you said it yourself they don’t mean anything.” she counterpoints, and you frown. it means something to me, the words are hanging off your tongue. but it shouldn’t mean anything to me, you think. she shouldn’t mean anything to you. she’s a player. a known player, with a reputation for ruining every girl she touches. why would i even risk it?
“if they didn’t mean anything to you, i certainly won’t either.” you argue, and she blinks at you, staring at you as if you’ve grown an extra head. “what do you mean? you’re different, you’re the prettiest girl at this place.” she admits, and you feel the blood rise to your face, “how many girls have you told that one to? seriously els, let’s get back to studying, this essay isn’t going to write itself.” you try to shut down the argument, and she deflates a bit. it’s not as though she has any more defense to her argument. she knows you’re right, and she knows she made her reputation herself.
“can you believe it, d?? she said she’d say no if i asked her out on a date!” ellie rants at the bar over the loud music. dina raises a brow, traces of amusement laced into her features. “didn’t she say it was because of all the girls you go through? i mean, i know i’m your best friend, ellie, but that’s a valid reason not to get involved with someone.” she shrugs, making ellie’s eyes widen in offense. “seriously?! who’s side are you on??” the brunette asks, making dina laugh in disbelief. “certainly not yours! because of you, rachel and carina were arguing all throughout my sociology lesson.” dina grumbles, and ellie sighs as she lays her head on the bar counter, squishing her forehead against the cool marble surface.
“she’s never going to want me.” ellie groans pathetically, and dina rolls her eyes. “wow, pull yourself together. if you really want her to want you, you need to put in actual effort.” dina starts, her tone stringent and up for no debates. ellie opens her mouth to say something, but the raven haired girl beats her to it. “seriously, this can’t be like all of your half assed attempts at getting into someone’s pants. if you really want her, prove it.” dina says sternly, and ellie sits up, flashing her a questioning look. “what am i supposed to do!? i’ve never done this sort of thing before… i just— i don’t know how to get out of the friendzone. i’ve never been in the friendzone with someone i actually want.” ellie grumbles, and dina hums in amusement. “for one, stop hooking up with every girl you find attractive. being easily accessible to other girls isn’t as hot as you think.” dina slaps ellie’s back a little too hard, causing her roommate/best friend to glare at her.
“ow!” “and actually make an effort to get to know her. text her, ask about her day, her favorite bands and artists. you said she’s smart, does she like books? ask her about her favorite book and major.” dina explains, “what if she doesn’t want to tell me those things? we’ve only been friends for two months, and she literally only talks about studying.” ellie says, her tone laced with insecurity. “y/n is nice. i’ve talked to her a few times at the library. she’ll tell you those things as soon as you ask. all you have to do is put in effort till she notices.” dina assures her, and ellie reaches into her back pocket and pulls out her phone.
“what are you doing?” dina asks uncertainly, “texting y/n about her day and favorite band and all that bullshit.” ellie slurs as she begins smashing her thumbs on the keyboard, and dina’s eyes widen. imagine your surprise when you wake up at midnight to a bunch of texts from ellie, asking you about your day, and your favorite books. the grammatical errors in the message don’t fail to make you smile, and you can’t even fight the way your heart warms.
you: go to sleep, ellie.
ellie: i can’t stop thinking about you.
you: think about me while you sleep. it’s late.
ellie: i was at the bar with dina tonight, just got to my room. gonna dream about you, princess <3
you roll your eyes at her cheesy message. of course she’s intoxicated. you have a small smile on your lips as you type back a single message.
you: goodnight ellie. don’t forget to keep a water bottle by your bed for the morning.
you aren’t sure why ellie williams seems to suddenly be interested in you. it’s a strange feeling to be wanted by one of the most wanted girls in school. you can’t help but wonder if she’s truly interested, or if you’re accusations are correct and she’s just trying to get into your pants. you sigh as you put your phone down and try to go back to sleep. thoughts of ellie plague your mind, and you hate the way her smile makes you feel all warm inside. you’re trying your absolute hardest to not feel anything for ellie williams, but it doesn’t seem to be working out very well for you. especially not when she drunk texts you the cutest things.
the texts don’t stop there. over the next few weeks ellie begins to text you daily, nonstop. she’ll send you memes, or posts that remind her of you. she’ll even send pictures of puppies she sees when she’s out in town. there was a night where you were reading, and ellie sent you a voice memo of her playing guitar and lightly singing a song she wrote. her voice made you feel as though your heart was about to burst right out of your chest. it’s been three and a half months of trying to ignore these feelings in your belly every time the brunette is near. three months of trying to keep your blush at bay, and not laugh at her horrible puns.
“i didn’t know you could sing like that.” you pipe up one day as you’re revising her essay for her english class. her cheeks turn the most adorable shade of pink, and you have to bite your bottom lip to stop from smiling. “i don’t normally let anyone know that i can sing… but you’re special to me.” she clarifies, and you stare at her, getting lost in her emerald eyes. “maybe one day you can come to my dorm, and i’ll sing for you in person.” she flirts, and you just now realized how close she’s sitting. the blood rushes to your cheeks and you have to force yourself to look away, breaking eye contact. “when will your excessive flirting ever end?” you ask her, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
ellie smirks, “when you finally agree to give me a chance.” she declares, and you can’t help but frown. “a chance? a chance at what, ellie? to get in my pants and then never talk to me again?” you ask, sounding slightly upset. ellie shakes her head quickly, “no! y/n you know i’d never do that to you.” she tries, and you sigh. “no, i don’t. the truth is, i like you and it scares me, ellie… but the way you treat girls scares me more.” you whisper, unable to look at her, ellie feels her heart sinking in her chest. she feels herself responding with one of the only few emotions she knows; anger. “no offense, but how would you even know how i treat women?” she asks, and you can hear the clear offense in her tone.
“i already told you that girls talk, ellie. i know what i’ve heard from them, and what i hear from you is no better.” you don’t even look at her as you continue revising her essay on her laptop. “look, you misspelled ‘continuity’.” you say, swiftly trying to change the subject, but ellie doesn’t let up. “the way i treat girls i don’t care about is different. i care about you. i could treat you so well, and take you on dates.” she begins rambling, and you look up at her, your eyes unamused. “have you ever even been on a date, ellie?” you ask unable to contain a chuckle. “well— erm— no, but i bet i could plan one. a better date than you’ve ever been on.” she tells you, leading you to tilt your head to the side in order flash her a curious look. “is that so? well, maybe you should practice by actually taking your next conquest on a date.” you suggest sassily, and she deflates.
i don’t want to date anyone who isn’t you, she thinks, but chooses not to press any further. instead she goes back to her room after you finish revising her essay, and even though she doesn’t text you throughout the rest of the evening, you still receive a goodnight text from her. a simple message shouldn’t make you smile or give you butterflies, but it does. you respond to her, and go to sleep, thoughts of ellie freaking williams on your mind, and you have to continually remind yourself that you’re not the only poor girl thinking about her tonight. you think about the advice you gave her, to take some poor other girl out on a date… but the thought of that makes your heart ache. you don’t want ellie to date or hookup with anyone else, but that’s wrong. ellie can do whatever she likes, you just wish she only wanted to do you.
your disheartening thoughts from last night linger all throughout the morning. you don’t text ellie back, and when she asks to hang out, you don’t even answer. you’re starting to realize the main problem is you’ve been spending so much time with her, and the closer you two get, the more you fall for those freckle coated cheeks, and evergreen eyes. you can’t help how you feel, and you know ellie only flirts with you because that’s the way she is. it doesn’t mean anything to her, and that’s what hurts the worst. to her you’re just some other girl, and to you she’s starting to take up spaces in your mind like she owns it.
it doesn’t take long for ellie to find you on a bench outside of the university after your classes. you’re reading some stephen king novel that’s pretty worn, “you’ve been hard to find.” ellie’s soft voice pulls you out of your thoughts. you look up to see her standing there with a button up collared shirt, and those jeans that make her look cuter than anyone you’ve ever seen. “i’ve been looking for you. and texting you.” the brunette says, and you shrug. “i’ve been busy.” you murmur and she frowns as she takes a seat next to you. “too busy to hang out with me?” she asks, and you shrug. “you’re a little distracting.” you admit as you wave your book at her.
she smirks, and it makes your belly flip flop. “you calling me distracting?” ellie teases, and you let a giggle escape your lips. the delightful sound causes ellie to grin. “yeah, you are. in the worst way.” you joke, and she throws her head back and laughs. she stares at you for a moment, “i have a date tonight.” she admits, and you tense up. “oh really?” you question, trying not to sound too interested. “yup. angela from kappa sorority.” she explains and you chuckle, “a sorority girl?” you ask, and ellie can hear the slight judgment in your voice. “well, the girl i want won’t give me the time of day, and i’m trying to prove i can do more than just sleep with a girl.” she explains simply, and you roll your eyes.
“where are you taking her?” you inquire, and ellie shrugs, “probably maria’s diner downtown.” she says and you nod. “nice. hope you have fun.” you sound pretty genuine, but ellie can see a trace of hurt in your features. you’re trying to ignore the way your stomach sinks at the thought of her smiling at some pretty girl, and paying for her dinner. you hate thinking about it. “maybe we can hang out before? get some studying in?” she asks hopefully, she just wants to spend as much time as she can with you. “can’t. i have to do homework before i help joey and kayla with their project for an english seminar.” you explain, and ellie only nods in a bit of disappointment.
“will you be free tomorrow?” she asks and you shrug, the thought of having to hear about how good her date went doesn’t sound too appealing. “i’ll text you.” you weakly respond and she nods as she stands up, flashing you a questioning look. “uh, okay…” she wants to say something about how upset you seem, but she doesn’t want to press. “i’ll see you later then.” she adds, and you only nod as she walks away. you try not to watch her leave, but you can’t help it. you release a ragged breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. “i’m so screwed.”
throughout the night you ignore ellie’s texts, trying not to think about her date. the next day you begin to avoid ellie as if she has the plague. it doesn’t take her long to notice. you’d leave her on read, and she checked the library but you weren’t there. all of the benches around the university that you’d usually sit at to read were empty, and you weren’t in the cafeteria. that’s how ellie ends up in front of your dorm room, knocking lightly yet adamantly. when you open it you’re wearing a pair of tight flare jeans, a pair of converse, and that cute cropped sweater that fits you well.
“e-ellie what are you doing here?” you ask, obviously surprised to see her. “you’ve been ignoring me. why?” she asks as she pushes her way into your room. your roommate is sitting on her bed, and she raises a brow, “should i give you guys privacy?” michelle asks and you nod, “yes please.” you breathe out, and the blonde nods as she gets up and reaches for her phone and purse. “i’m gonna bring lunch. for three in case you’re still here when i get back.” michelle tells ellie before she leaves you two alone. the atmosphere is tense, and you can’t even look at her.
“how was your date?” you inquire, ignoring her previous question. “is that why you’ve been ignoring me? because i went on a date?” she asks in disbelief, making you scoff. “i haven’t been ignoring you, i’ve been busy.” you lie through your teeth, and now it’s ellie’s turn to scoff. “seriously? you expect me to believe that? every day for the last four months we’ve been hanging out, and now suddenly you’re busy?” she asks, her tone stern and angry. you roll your eyes opting not to respond. this only adds to her frustration, “i mean, what gives? i thought we were friends.” she points out, her tone more fragile now, and it makes you pause. your hard expression falters, but you can only stare at her incredulously. “friends?” you ask, your tone skeptical and hurt, “a friend wouldn’t endlessly flirt with me, and pin me in the same category as every other girl in this school. they don’t say all this stuff that’s supposed to have meaning, and then go on a date with some other girl. friends don’t look at each other the way we do, ellie!” you snap and she’s staring at you with wide eyes, while her breath is lodged in her windpipe.
“you like me.” she blurts out, her tone laced with realization. you blink, “you like me, like me.” she declares, and you release a shaky sigh. “i do. but i can’t afford to, ellie. you’re not the kind of person i’m supposed to be with. i need someone who’s ready for commitment, and who has a whole lot of patience. you don’t have either of those things.” you begin to ramble, and ellie frowns. “why do you always make me seem like i’m a terrible person?? is that really what you think of me? that i’m so shit, i don’t even deserve a chance to show you i can be better?” she asks, and the hurt in those eyes makes you feel tremendously guilty. but you don’t let up, “you’re a wonderful person, ellie. you’re funny, and smart, and you always make me smile… but i don’t think you’d be a good girlfriend. i’m sorry. i think it’s best if we don’t talk anymore.” you say, your voice low and distant.
ellie stares at you in disbelief. “so that’s it?? you’re just never gonna talk to me again?” she questions angrily, and you look down at your shoes. “i’m sorry ellie.” you whisper, and she stares at you with a look of pure betrayal. “you know, i may not know what it’s like to be in love or know how to be a perfect girlfriend, but i would do anything you ask. i would never hurt you intentionally. so, you just lost someone who actually gives a shit about you.” she hisses venomously, as she turns to leave, and you have to clamp down on your bottom lip as you try to ignore the tears that are threatening to leave your eyes.
ellie leaves but you can’t watch her go. you don’t want that memory engraved into your brain. her words are all you can hear replaying in your head, and it isn’t until you can taste the salt from your tears that you realize you’re crying. you haven’t cried over a girl since high school, and now you feel like a fool for letting ellie get so close. you didn’t even let her touch you and you still ended up broken-hearted like her string of other women. but this was different, and it’s taken you this long to realize it. ellie didn’t even try to get into your pants, yet it still hurts just as much, maybe more. you can’t help but feel guilty for being so harsh, but how could you possibly give ellie a chance to break your heart for real? you’re terrified of the way you feel about her.
you: i’m sorry.
ellie leaves you on read after that, and two days go by with you thinking about her consistently. she doesn’t try to show up at your door anymore, or go out of her way to look for you on campus. ellie is now actively avoiding you, the same way you were avoiding her. the guilt and sadness was gnawing you up inside, and you couldn’t fight the urge to make things right. that’s how you ended up at jesse’s frat party. you’re wearing a tight white cropped top that ties around the back of your neck, and light blue denim levi short shorts. your hair was curled perfectly in hopes you’d see ellie tonight and get to make things right. you realize that if you don’t give her chance, you’re going to be heartbroken over all of the ‘what if’s’.
“hey y/n! i didn’t think you’d come tonight!” dina shouts over the loud music, as she stands in front of you, she has a strange smile on her face. she looks almost nervous. you smile back, choosing not to dwell on it. “hey d! yeah, i’m looking for ellie, have you seen her?” you ask and dina’s smile falters, “uh, she’s— she’s around.” dina lies horribly. as if on cue you move a bit to the side, and see what she was covering with her body by standing in front of you.
madeline from one of the sorority houses was hanging off ellie’s neck, and the brunette’s hands were all over madeline. your heart breaks at the sight; you have a few classes with the blonde and she’s on the cheer team. she’s drop dead stunning. that’s when ellie leans in and kisses the cheerleader in a way that cause the final bits of your heart to crack into little pieces. suddenly you feel like an absolute fool for coming here tonight.
“y/n…” dina tries, and you clear your throat, shaking your head, pulling yourself out of your thoughts. “do me a favor and don’t tell her i was here, okay?” you ask pleadingly and dina flashes you a concerned look. “please?” you nearly beg, your voice cracking slightly, causing her to sigh. she nods reluctantly and you rush off, making your way for the exit you just came in through. you try not to cry, and thankfully your roommate/best friend is at that stupid party trying to get laid. you let it all out as soon as you get to your dorm; your mascara’s running, and you’re sure you sound as pathetic as you look. the image of one of the prettiest girls in school hanging off ellie’s neck is now burned into your mind. you should’ve known better than to think you could actually make things work with ellie williams.
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