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#so it kinda amplifies all this shit
greenglowinspooks · 5 months
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Btw I need you guys to know that in Formaldehyde, Danny gets so /genuinely/ fucked up. Like babygirl really does begin displaying behaviors and acting in ways
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apocalyptic-dancehall · 6 months
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here's a concept for a fusion thing ig.. they're completely batshit and exist only to annoy the everloving hell out of the jack pack
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glitter50000 · 1 year
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SaB season 2 spoilers (in the tags as well)
Kirigan’s grisha army watching him kill a whole camp with one sweep of the Cut in ep.6
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(Vatra, the inferni, straight up saying “it’s like the earth ate them up” after that like damn girl)
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mrfoox · 1 year
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Ok new theory as to why I seem to have liked and trusted Oliver since the beginning: he's an fellow chameleon and I could just feel it and relate at once
#miranda talking shit#Before he even told me straight out that he is good at faking and acting i knew it and that could be why i felt it was easier to be...#Myself around him. I usually develop or use some sort of persona every time i get to know a new person. But with him i...didnt really#And I felt he did the same. Bc then i heard him talking on the phone or meeting other people and his demeanor completely changed and yeah#We are technically kinda unlike each other but i think this thing we can have a whole different level of understanding on. Ive never met#Someone i felt was similar to me in this regard. Until him and i have wondered why i felt so comfortable with him so fast. Bc he isnt overy#Nice and caring which usually get me to get comfortable and he wasnt super joking and fun that is my other type to get my guard down#He was just ... A dude. He felt genuine and not like he was trying to be in a specific way for me and so i think i... Felt that too?#Like ive had many friends through the years and still have but ... I think all of them to some point i have some persona out#Usually its the 'i have to be funny and make them laugh' version of myself. I think that is a version of myself and is still me but its not#THE ME. Bc it tires me to do and i can usually just do it for a day. 6-10 hours then im dead tired. I have many sides but i usually#Involuntary amplify some parts of my personality to appease people. I dont actively do it. Its something i can recall doing since i#Started school. And before i knew it i did it without realizing like a reflex. It can be why majority of people tire me to be around#Bc i end up acting even if i dont realize...? Even friends ive had for 5+ years i end up doing it with. Like Fabian i do less of it#Way less than in the past but thats bc we have been talking so intensely the last two years. So that act of me have dropped a lot. But i#Still feel worried im not entertaining enough or nice enough or something enough when talking with him sometimes and have to ask him and he#Like 'no silence is fine. I like it' but yeah. Oliver i... Dont feel i act... If i do its not enough i can tell on my own. Bc i dont act#'whacky/funny' and not overly nice i just... Vibe. I do still laugh and smile but usually i can just sit and nod along and i dont think#About how i am? Its honestly crazy. Now i came up with this idea as yo why bc ive never been able to before ive not been able to say why i#Felt so at ease with him. But now im like... Is this it? Bc i know hes a pretender so i just never felt the need to with him? I wonder why#He have been pretty open since the beginning but after we passed the 6 month mark it was a shift i felt at least#Now i feel like he tells me almost everything and its kinda crazy. Considering i know he have major trust issues especially with women#He just... Talk and i listen and i guess he isnt used to it and yeah. I like it a lot. When he admitted im basically the only one he doesnt#Use an persona on or act with... And i asked why and he just said well... I dont feel like i need to. That shit hit me bc i feel the same#Feel like i could say anything or share anything and he'd not... Care. Not in a bad way. But in the way it wont change how he sees me.#Many people are unfortunately in the category they do end up adjusting themselves too much when they learn something. Why i dont like sayin#Im autistic bc even if they say they are fine with it its like they see me differently anyway. So i dont share such unless its been years#Or they already know before we get to know each other. But fuck man oliver is special to me and this is my first ever theory i came up with#Never been close to someone else i can feel is an performer in the similar way i am...
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rvfecamerons · 6 months
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》 RED & BLUE — rafe cameron x reader
{ main masterlist }
word count — 3.7k
warnings — MDNI; dark!rafe, cop!rafe, aged up!rafe & reader, swearing, smut, oral, mentions of bullying kinda, degradation, humiliation, slapping, slut-shaming, slight voyeurism, lmk if i’m missing anything?? (NOT PROOFREAD BTW BARE W ME)
a/n — rafe and reader are both aged up in this fic!! it takes place a number of years after hs, you can decide how long :) also I HURRIED THRU THIS SO FAST i just wanted to get it done ok and yall know i’m new to smut so i tried to hurry thru it so dont judge pls be nice ty <3 likes are appreciated, reblogs & comments make my whole life worth living pls <3 also these pics have me sooo…..
summary — you get pulled over by the infamous Officer Cameron on your way home one night, and he has his own solution to keeping you out of trouble ;)
Rafe could hardly keep his eyes open. He was on the tail end of his shift, and tired was an understatement.
When he joined the police academy after his dad’s death, Rafe’s only goal was to seize power over the town that ostracized him, authority over those who counted him out, spoke ill of him, pogues and kooks alike. No one was ever fair to him in this washed up town, why should he be fair to them?
And that power he felt when he put on his uniform everyday, consumed him.
His whole life, he’d already felt like he could go anywhere, do anything he wanted. That feeling only amplified when he became a police officer.
…And yet, here he was, stuck on the night shift in all its glory. Citing minor traffic violations, surveillancing random parking lots… nothing like what he’d envisioned.
Though he was much older now, Rafe was still the main subject of the town’s conversations.
The oldest Cameron never married. He didn’t have any kids. And good thing, because rumors were constantly flying around the island about his… corrupt tendencies.
Rafe wasn’t doing anything crazy. No money laundering, no getting high in the evidence lockerroom… No, not that kind of corrupt.
But let’s just say, women didn’t need to worry as much if Officer Cameron was the one greeting them at their window during a traffic stop. They’d heard enough to know Rafe could be easily…persuaded to grant freedom.
A young Rafe never did well around girls. And as years went on, an older Rafe obviously still never learned how to do well with women, either…
But he tried with you. For years. You never missed the way he wasn’t scared to break eye contact if you caught him staring at you in class. Or the way he would always come wandering onto the school track during your cheer practices. He would leave notes on your locker, and somehow even managed to leave a boquet of roses inside of it one time, too.
Rafe Cameron was always known for being a bit…unstable. He was rich, handsome, athletic, but he could never hold a friendship, or a relationship for that matter. Not many people associated with him, unless they were talking about him.
So, when you discovered his desire for you, you were honestly…embarassed. You felt sorry for him, but you wouldn’t be the one to commit social suicide by being seen with him.
And Rafe didn’t forget.
You never paid him the time of day in high school. But he had the upperhand now.
He was posted up at a gas station when he noticed a black car struggling to stay in the lanes as it trekked down the main road. He’d almost missed it for the broken tail light in the back.
One thing he learned from his superiors? Only 2 kinds of people were out at this time of night: drug dealers and cops. He was the cop, so this car must have been the ladder.
Rafe let the car get a reasonable distance before easing out of the lot. He took note of the liscense plate, entering it into the laptop at his side.
There was a spark of interest in his eyes as the search results yielded a name he knew all too well.
Y/N Y/L/N.
“No shit…” he mumbled to himself. What were the odds?
All of the memories from high school came flooding back. How could he forget? Young Rafe had spent many years pining after you in school, but you were just as big of a kook as he was, always thinking you were too good, too smart, too stable for the boy who’s reputation preceeded him.
Your name was followed by another line, listing off an old charge. ‘Posession of a controlled substance, schedule II.’
Fucking kooks and their drug habits, he mentally cursed. As he didn’t also fit the description.
He moused over a small icon, and your mugshot filled the screen. You were barely 18 when you caught the charge, Rafe easily able to identify the familiar features he’d spent countless nights obsessing over senior year, specifically.
His pupils were surely blown as he gawked down at the screen.
Rafe still found beauty in the even, empty look on your face on what was likely one of the worst nights of your teenage life. The way your brows were knitted together, the way you tried to force the corners of your lips to tug upwards, even though you were probably terrified of what came after processing, at that point.
Part of him would enjoy hauling you off to jail, his mind quick to draw up a scenario in his head.
You’d probably beg him to stop as he tightened the cuffs on you, an instrument he loved to use in the bedroom. Using them at work, on attractive women was just a plus.
The thought of such a pretty girl, scared, cold, probably shaking inside of a tiny cell was enticing. Ruining your night, bringing back your expunged record with a felony would be the perfect payback for how bitchy you were to him in high school.
Making you relive another processing, another night in a place you probably vowed never to return to, as most do. He hears it all the time.
But he also sees those same people come thru the station again and again.
So he decided to throw his lights on.
As your brake lights lit up, Rafe brandished a tiny bag of cocaine, examining it in the palm of his hand before tucking it away in his pocket. Collateral, if he felt the need to use it.
At the same time, the red and blue lights had your breath hitching in your throat. You fetched your own small stash from the middle console and shoved it into your front pocket, making the split decision that the officer would hopefully be male, who would probably check the car before you, since you’re a female.
You kept your hands tight on the wheel as you watched the officer near your car in the side mirror, only moving a hand to roll down the window when he tapped on the glass.
“Evening, miss,” the deep voice filled the nervous silence in your car, as did the light he shined around.
The flash in your eyes left you blinded for a second, prompting you to raise a hand to shield your face.
“Hi officer, is there something wrong?” Maybe he hadn’t noticed your swerving.
“Uh, yeah, I was gonna say you were swerving around back there…” He noticed. “but now I’m a little more interested in what I’m smelling.” The flashlight pryed further into the car.
Shit. You mentally cursed yourself. You really wished you hadn’t smoked that blunt in your car on break yesterday.
“You been smoking some weed in here tonight miss?”
You were already shaking your head vigorously before he could even finish his question, “No, no, officer. Not at all.”
His only response was leaning a bit further into the car to inspect more.
A long pause ensued, before, “You mind stepping out real quick f’me?”
Fuck. “You can turn the car off, too.” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Reluctantly, you moved to open the door, greeted by the cool autumn air as your feet planted on the concrete.
It was only when you rose to your feet that you realized exactly who had pulled you over. “Rafe…? Rafe Cameron?”
He responded by swinging your driver door shut.
You couldn’t even believe the way the tables had turned now. You instantly thought of all the times you shut him down, been snappy with him, made jokes with your friends at his expense.
As he towered above you now, you noticed how much bigger he really was than you. His muscles practically threatened to pop the seams of the uniform hugging his biceps.
“Just keep your hands where I can see em’,” His voice pulled you from your fantasy, and you pulled your arms above your head and slowly stepped out of the way.
“We don’t have any females on duty right now, so I’m gonna have to search you. I’ll just check your pockets though,” Shit.
“O-okay…” You waited for your next instruction.
“Go ahead and turn around, face the car.” You slowly did as you were told, though part of you wanted to grab the bag and toss it somewhere.
“Hands up here,” he patted the hood of your car, and you placed your hands where he’d instructed.
You couldn’t see him now, but you could feel his presence towering behind you.
A single foot placed inbetween yours startled you, kicking at your left foot gently, “Spread your legs f’me, miss.”
His words sent chills up your spine. You did as he said, parting your legs against the better interest of the growing uncomfortableness between your thighs.
You fought the urge to clamp them shut again as he began dipping his hands into your jacket pockets first.
Coming up empty, he felt around your back pockets next, before his fingers slithered their way into the one pocket you’d hoped he’d somehow slip over.
“Hmm…” You stared at your feet and tried to keep from shaking at the nervousness you felt.
Rafe’s hands resurfaced, now holding the small bag of cocaine. Wow. Look at that…he didn’t even have to plant his own bag on you, you’d done it for him.
“What’s this, miss?” Your mouth was dry, and you were almost shaking from fear at this point. Even if it wasn’t a significant amount, any amount was still illegal, and it only made it worse that Rafe Cameron was the one to pull you over and find it.
“I-I don’t…” you didn’t even know what to say. “Rafe, that’s not mine, I swear.”
He placed the bag on top of the car. “It’s sir, or Officer Cameron.” He corrected. You swallowed hard, and the next thing you felt was a large hand encompassing one of your wrists, drawling it behind your back.
“No! No, wait, please,” you felt the cold metal locking in place despite your pleas.
“Relax, you’re just being detained right now,” His words didn’t encourage relaxation at all. You’d seen enough bodycam videos on Youtube to know what always comes after ‘being detained’.
“Sir, please,” your voice cracked as you spoke. “I-I’ve never been in trouble before.” You could feel the tears threatening to fall now.
You mentally cursed again as he brought your other hand behind your back, securing it in the metal cuff.
“Fuck…” you muttered, eyes closed as you replayed everything you should’ve done differently tonight.
“Never been in trouble before, hmm?” You dared to lift your head in his direction, peering over your shoulder only to find his eyes raking over your figure. His hands released your now binded ones.
All at once, Rafe took a harsh grip on your hair, forcing you up against the door of the car, his hard chest pressing into your back as he tilted your head up.
“You wanna lie to me again, hmm? I ran your plates. Not surprised to find coke on you.”
The seizing of your hair only heightened the warm sensation between your legs, almost too much to bare as a loud gasp left your mouth.
You pulled at the cuffs, gauging how tight they were. And yeah, they were fucking tight.
You hated to admit it, but the situation at hand was actually… turning you on? Rafe was attractive, you couldn’t lie. You could almost make out the feel of his bulge in his pants, right underneath his utility belt.
“Y’know a little baggie of coke can easily be a misdemeanor…” You could hardly focus on his words with the way his knee was rutting inbetween your legs.
“But two bags? That’s intent to distribute. And that’s…” He leaned into your ear to whisper intently, “that’s a felony if I ever seen one.”
Suddenly you were on the move, being dragged by Rafe’s iron grip on your arms. “Wait, wait where are we going?” You asked.
“You’re going to jail, sweetheart.” He clarified, as if it was obvious. Which, you guessed it should’ve been. You’d thought maybe he would let you off the hook though, especially given all the stories you’d heard about him.
“No! No, please, I-“ you planted your feet on the concrete, trying to stop the inevitable walk of shame to the cop car.
Rafe’s grip tightened on your arm, his second hand jumping down to hold the chain inbetween your cuffs again. “What? You resisting now? Because we can throw another charge on there, I don’t mind-“
“No! Sir, no, I-I’m not resisting. I just…isn’t there something I can… do?” You weren’t even sure what you were getting at with the question, deciding to leave it up to him to determine.
He looked at you with a deepened interest, now. Rafe couldn’t help but revel in the fact that you’d been the one to set his plan into motion, instead of him. He jolted your arm roughly, spinning your body so your shoulder was pressed into his chest, eyes able to see him now.
He chuckled darkly at your question. “Are you trying to bribe an officer?” Fuck, was he not into it? You started to worry you’d dug an even deeper hole of trouble for yourself.
You stood in silence. “Are you asking if you can do something to get out of these?” You winced as he squeezed the cuffs tighter.
You couldn’t speak, too embarassed to. You simply stared up at him.
“You look like you’d slut yourself out to stay outta trouble,” It was only then that you noticed his wild eyes scanning over your body, flushed with a dark lust.
The comment should’ve brought you shame. And you did feel shameful, humiliated, even. But above all else, you felt…aroused.
Rafe brought a large hand up to your shoulder, pushing down with enough force to encourage you to drop to your knees. You did so one at a time, since you didn’t have your hands to help you.
The concrete tore into your skin, but you ignored it, eyes trained on the officer in front of you.
Rafe never took his eyes off of you as his hands made their way to his belt. “Gonna suck my cock? Hmm?” He spoke lowly. You swallowed hard, nodding your head.
A large palm mended over the growing tightness in his pants as he tilted his head menacingly. “Yeah? You gonna whore yourself out to me just to stay outta jail?”
You offered him the sweetest, most innocent look you could muster. Your eyes were already teary from the fear you were feeling, only adding to the show for Rafe. You nodded again.
You were almost taken aback by the sudden sharp, repeated stings left on your cheek. You dropped your jaw at the feeling of his cold rings coming into contact with your skin.
“Speak up,” he ordered. “Use your words.” He was amusing himself, you could tell. Still, you nodded up at him again.
“Y-yes.”
“Yeah? Good girl,” You pinched your thighs together at the praise rolling off of his lips.
His cock sprang to life on his stomach, settling just underneath his bellybutton. You almost drooled at the sight.
He took his length in his hand, pumping slowly at first, eyes never leaving you. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, gliding slowly across your bottom one and eliciting a low grown from Rafe.
“Come here,” he drew you closer by the hair of your head, and you let your jaw fall slack as he lined his cock up with your mouth.
He didn’t bother easing in, letting you work it with your tongue and get it nice and wet first. Rafe simply started with a harsh thrust into your mouth, hips snapping against your face right off the bat.
You choked and sputtered as he drilled into your mouth, a mix of salivia and his salty juices dripping down your chin and coating your thighs as he encouraged you to, “Take it… open up, you can take it all. Mhmm…”
His pants had dropped somewhere between his hips and his knees, the instruments lining it digging into the flesh of your chest as he continued using your face for his own pleasure.
You were too embarassed to stare up at him, only stealing enough glances to know that Rafe had his head tilted back, eyes closed for the majority of your act. He still kept a hand in your hair though, leverage to keep him upright even as his legs threatened to buckle beneath him.
Part of you felt a pang of insecurity, wondering if his lack of eye contact was because you were simply another one of the trashy girls who sucked off the infamous officer for a get-out-of-jail-free card.
Rafe’s eyes were shut for an entirely different reason, though. He was busy revelling the fact that he was finally getting a taste of what he’d pined after for so long. Finally able to make his imaginations, the fantasies he had about you, a reality.
It wasn’t long before he was coming undone in front of you, legs shaking as he finished inside your mouth, pulling out with a pop.
The road was empty. Rafe used his grip on your hair to pull you to your feet, his other hand immediately wrapping around your arm to lead you to his cruiser. He threw the door open, and you fully expected him to usher you inside.
Instead, he used the hold on your cuffed wrists to lift your arms up and effectively bend you over the backseat. He pressed your face into the cloth. As uncomfortable as this new position was, it beat subjecting your knees to the gravel in the road, and you knew this was the price to pay for your freedom. You just hoped he would follow through with his end of the deal when it was all said and done.
But Rafe wasn’t even thinking about what he was going to do after he fucked you. His brain was already short-circuiting at the mere sight of your dripping cunt on display as he bent you over in front of him.
“God, you’re fucking soaked…” He used two fingers to swipe up your folds, gathering some of your sweet juice before bringing it to his tongue.
He groaned around his fingers in his mouth. The way your ass brushed up against his dick perfectly, the way your back arched even in the compromising position, drovr him crazy. He loved your mouth, and couldn’t wait to feel the rest of you.
“Don’t move.” He spoke harshly. You could feel the tip of his cock grazing your slick center, undoubtedly preparing to slide in.
You held your breath, muscles tensing when his head finally broke through your walls. “Relax, relax…” Rafe coaxed behind you, his own breathing labored as he struggled to keep himself together.
He let out a low grunt when he finally managed to slide all the way in, hips snapping into yours harshly.
He kept one hand on your binded wrists while another pressed your face into the seat, hips relentlessly driving into the quick mess he’d made of your core.
“You like that?” You whimpered at his question, your moans making the answer quite obvious. “Yeah? Y’like getting cuffed and fucked by an officer just to stay outta trouble? Hmm?”
The moan that escaped your lips at the embarassing question filled the car. “Yes, Rafe, yes…oh my god,”
Rafe reached around and delivered a swift slap to your face from behind, correcting your use of his name. “What was that?”
“Y-yes, yes sir.” You arched your back more at a particularlly rough thrust, and took the opportunity to peer over your shoulder, eyes drinking in the sight where your two bodies connected.
“Look at me,” Rafe ordered, but your neck could only comfortably crane so far up as he held you down on the seat.
Rafe noticed, and snaked an arm around your throat, bicep pressing into your airway as he lifted you up, lodging even deeper inside of you as you straightened yourself out against him.
“Look at me,” He repeated, breathlessly.
He pulled his arm back, subsequently tilting your head back too. He lowered his lips down to the side of your face, teeth nibbling slightly on your ear as he continued subjecting you to a brutal pace.
You were trying hard to fight the coiling you felt building in your stomach, your walls already clenching slightly around Rafe’s cock. “Gonna cum for me?” It took everything not to unwind at that very question.
“Go ahead baby, come apart on my cock. I’m right behind you,” The intensity at which Rafe pounded into you picked up as he chased his second high, and you neared your first.
Your legs shook as Rafe’s load shot deep into you, his hips continuing to drill into yours, making sure you got every last drop.
When he finally pulled out, he was sweating, panting, hands even shaking as he pulled his pants back up, securing his belt around his waist.
All the while, you’re still bent over the backseat of his car, a mix of both of your juices leaking from your dripping cunt and onto his seat. You were nervous to move, unsure of what would happen next.
You jumped slightly as Rafe pulled you upright again, hands immediately reaching down to release you from the uncomfortable metal bracelets.
“I get off in a couple hours…” Rafe’s voice trailed off as your eyes fell to your red wrists, indents from the tight cuffs still very much present. You mended them over, softly caressing the irritated skin with your hand, moving back and forth between the two.
A sudden, harsh grip on your jaw pulled you from your thoughts. Rafe peered down at you, eyes still full of lust as he warned, “I’ve got your address. Go home and get ready for me.”
Even though Rafe encouraged you to use your words, you still felt like nodding was your safest bet.
He slammed the door of his cruiser, turning to head back to the driver’s seat before he turned back to add, “Oh, and get rid of that weed smell in your car if you’re gonna be driving it.” He taunted.
With that, he disappeared behind the dark tints as quickly as the door slammed shut. He was already speeding off before you’d even mustered a step back towards your car.
Your eyes fell back down to your wrists, then back up at the police car descending into the distance.
Even with the handcuffs removed, the threat of jail no longer looming over your head…you knew you were still in for a long night.
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katsukiizmoon · 6 months
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╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🥛 ┊boba time : stealing lip balm꒱
♡ I haven’t been writing like an idiot ! So sorry if my quality is going up and down/ is weird. This isn’t edited and was written on a whim.
Katsuki keeps stealing your lip balms. It isn’t much of an issue until half of your stash is ran through and missing.
You know he has to be the one taking them. Every time you kiss him, he licks his lips a little. Wet tongue swiping over puffy lips, top teeth coming to dig into it. His tongue makes it’s way over his lips again and he lets out a low hum.
Every time except when you’re not wearing a lip balm.
When you aren’t wearing fruity or too-sweet lip balm, he licks his lips quick to get spit off and grunts. The only exceptions to this rule is when you’re making out or in bed. Those are special cases, you decide.
Your fingers curl into the fabric of your sweatshirt, carrying it over your arm. The winding halls of the agency amplify the echo of your steps and huffs. And with a heating face, you make quick work of finding your husband’s office.
The spare key rests in the front pocket of the black bag, nestled safely beneath a clasp and on a key ring. Nimble fingers snatch the metal items out with a clink and your lips curl into a pout. When the door clicks open with the turn of your wrist, your chest puffs out in a final rush of anger.
“Katsuki— where the fuck is my lip balm going?”
The poor boy freezes like a deer caught in headlights. Thick hands fiddle with a massive stack of paper, much too daunting for your own eyes. And he sighs, low and heavy, groaning as they leave the paperwork on wood in defeat.
Mercy, his body language pleads.
“I only got a few of ‘em.” Katsuki grunts and grumbles, leaning up to open a drawer while you shut the door and careen toward him. His eyes dart toward you for a moment and then he rolls backward in his chair. Away from you.
You gawk at the thin drawer filled with a plethora of your lip balms. The shame from katsuki radiates as you tilt your head in confusion and awe.
You turn on your heel with a brow raised.
“Why do you have them?”
Pink lips pout out for a moment, you notice his tongue swiping over his teeth before he sighs for the umpteenth time.
“You taste good— n’ I keep forgetting to give ‘em back.” The pro hero pouts and mumbles a half ass excuse.
You walk closer, standing between his knees now, brows still raised expectantly.
“God fine. Goddamnit, they taste good and my lips are dry so I use them all the time. But I forget to give them back, then I get another, and forget again.”
The exasperated, mildly embarrassed look on his face makes you Cave. You practically coo, looking at his flushed tan cheeks and angry look. His brows furrowed, arms crossed over his chest and pouting like there’s no tomorrow.
“Baby, you can use my lip balms but you gotta bring them back..” you lean forward and kiss the furrow of his brows ”.. it’s kinda cute, but seriously, some of these fuckers are expensive. And some of them are lip plumpers.”
His brows shoot to his hair line, cherry eyes widening as he seems to put two and two together.
Katsuki frowns again and looks away, not wanting to admit it.
“You gotta be shitting me. That’s why my lips have been burning like satans asshole.” His hands fumble around with his pockets until he pulls out a balm— made for lip plumping.
“Yup. Fucker, that’s what you get.” You snicker.
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peachypinkygloss · 8 months
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✨congrats on 2k✨
Can you write a drabble where virgin reader and JK shower together for the first time? He doesn’t pressure her into anything but she wants to do something with him in the shower iykwim (oral, handy I’ll leave the decision up to you). And he kinda guides her through it? it’s fluffy and smutty; so smuffy ahah. Basically no penetration but a lot of lips and a lot of touching! Thanks loves! Your writing adds some spoice to my life. <3
thank you a lot!! 🫶🏻
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apollo
You and your boyfriend have fun in the shower.
pairing: bf!jungkook x virgin!reader
genre: established relationship, smut
warnings: jk's in love, shower sex, handjob, lots of cum 🤭, 700 words.
This is part of my 2k milestone celebration! Here is the post for the drabble game! 🤍 (requests are closed!!)
♡・2k celebration masterlist・♡
A shower with Jungkook is definitely not a good idea when you're trying to keep your sanity. It's also the best idea ever. Yes, it's the worst and best idea at the same time, no in-between.
You can't keep your hands for yourself when you have him in front of you totally naked. A body crafted by Apollo, a soul created by Aphrodite. He's the most beautiful both on the inside and outside.
You sometimes think that you don't deserve him, but he's always there to remind you how much he loves you and cares for you.
"Are you sure, angel?" Jungkook questions between sloppy kisses, his hands roaming over your waist, down to your ass.
You moan in his mouth when he gropes your flesh, his skin having direct contact with yours. Your arms hang around his large shoulders, impatient hands pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck.
Jungkook backs away, stopping the kisses to look at you. He wants a clear answer.
You bite down on your lip, a fire burning in your stomach as you think about everything that could happen. Even though you want your first time to be with him, you want it to be more special and safer than in a shower.
But you still want to do something. You really want to.
You feel his hard cock poking your belly and it only amplifies your desire for Jungkook. You want to ease his pain, make this shower a bit steamier and hotter.
"Yeah," you respond in a quiet voice, glimpsing down at his dick. It twitches, and you just know you have to do something about it. "Can I just...?" You don't finish your question, but your hand tentatively hovers over his cock, not sure if you can touch it, and Jungkook understands what you want.
"Want to touch it?" He whispers and this simple phrase makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. You nod shyly in response. "Let me show you then," he softly proposes.
He takes your hand and wraps it around his cock. It's so stiff under your fingers and a bit wet, of course. You really like the texture.
"Don't squeeze too much. It's perfect like this," he explains and you nod again, listening carefully. "Now just move your hand up and down. No need to go fast, we have all the time we need."
You start doing what he told you to, going slow with his hand still over yours. You hear him hissing, but when you look up at his face there's no sign of pain.
He seems to enjoy it, which makes you really proud and turns you on a lot. He eventually lets go of your hand, his eyes focused on your palm moving around his hard cock.
"You're such a good girl," he rasps out, absolutely liking the feeling of your soft skin stroking his wet cock. "Ah, shit," he curses under his breath, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. His eyebrows are frowned, giving him this adorable concentrated look.
"Does it feel good?" You ask, genuinely curious if it is with all the grunts he lets out.
Jungkook chuckles, finding your innocence so cute — too cute for your own good. "Yes, angel, it does..." He replies, feeling himself getting closer to his orgasm. "You make me so fucking hard, you know. It's hard to not- fuck, to not cum straight away in your hand," he confesses and you feel your face heating up at that.
You continue, keeping the same regular pace. Your palm seems to do wonders because his cock twitches and he ejaculates all over your hand. You gape, stopping your movements.
His cum drips down on your hand, little beads spilling out of his tip when you squeeze slightly. You look at his cock in awe, even more turned on if it's possible at this point.
"Oh, god, baby," Jungkook breathes out, his voice a bit whiny. This was probably the best handjob he ever received. You might not be experienced, but just the fact it was you, made things so incredible. "I fucking love you."
He cups your face, kissing you feverishly and sloppily, so happy with what just happened.
"I love you too," you say back, smiling shyly, really proud of yourself.
.
.
.
2K notes · View notes
waffles-art-writing · 8 months
Note
Can you do Ghost(mw2) x female reader who is like Yor from spy x family(the jobs she has not the personality)
Female reader also has a child
COD MWII Ghost x Female!Assassin!Reader. (Reader has a child)
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Summary: You’re recalled from retirement of being an Assassin, your daughter being your main priority. You end up going back into the field with Task Force 141. After the mainly successful mission, Ghost takes you home after finding out you’re injured but not sever enough to need to go to the medical wing. You share a soft moment with the cold lieutenant, showing the side of the quiet man no one has seen. The next morning the babysitter drops your daughter back home, your young child coming home to a surprise and a face she hasn’t seen since she was a wee babe.
Proofread: Kinda???? Not really
Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley X Female Assassin (AFAB)
Age Rating: 16+
Codename: *Whatever you want it to be*
KEY: Y/N - Your Name. L/N - Last Name. C/N - Codename
Warning/Info: FLUFF!!!! Soft!Ghost, Injury Description, COD Violence, Female!Reader, Weapons. It is reasonably long. Call Of Duty Comic Description of Ghost.
If you want a part 2 please comment!!! <3 :) (PART TWO)
I apologise for the lack of posting, stuff irl has been picking up a lot and I will not be able to post as much as I wish I could. And I am applying for a new job which will result in me having to spend less and less time on here. :( but I’ll update when I can.
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A screeching sound pierces through your calm, soundless sleep. The ear piercing sound making you groan, rolling over, smacking your hand onto your nightstand, slapping the screen of your phone. The sound comes to a halt, you look at the time. Eyes widening, you didn’t set the earlier alarm. “Shit shit shit.” You curse out, stumbling to pull on some pants, tossing a shirt over your head as you dash down the hall. Stopping to peek into your daughters room, who is fast asleep, covers pulled up to her chin, a foot sticking out of the bed to the side.
A soft smile spreads across your lips as you look at her. Her hair a mess on the pillow, hands wrapped around her stuffed dog toy, snuggled into it. You move away from the door, continuing on your mission to the bathroom, pulling your hair back into a messy bun. Life has been hectic ever since putting your job as an assassin on hold so you can have your daughter, and not end up losing her cause you’re not around enough. Only two people knew about you and your daughter, both of them still working well and truly.
You flick on the bright light in the bathroom, you look towards the mirror. Dark circles rest under your eyes, hair tousled and messy despite it being pulled up in a messy bun. You lean against the bathroom counter, turning the tap on to brush your teeth. Suddenly your phone vibrates, the sound echoing around the cold room, almost amplifying the sound. You tap the green button on the screen not looking who it was.
“Hello?” You answer, your voice quiet to not wake your daughter.
“Morning L/N.” The deep gravely voice of Price comes from the speakers, it almost sends a chill down your spine. You haven’t been called this early by him in a long while. “Morning John, is there something you need?” You cut straight to the point, not wanting to beat around the bush as to why he is calling you so early in the morning, on a week day of all days.
“Straight to the point as always I see. Yes, we need your expertise for an overview of a mission- Yes I know, before you even complain I know you aren’t in the field anymore, or thats what most say but Laswell says otherwise.” You roll your eyes, of course he would know you still do the occasional job but you haven’t done one for years, you aren’t even sure as to how he thinks you could help. “Mission Overview? What could I possibly help with?” You question, your hands running under the cold water to splash it onto your face.
“Its an Capture or kill mission and if the time comes and we, y’know gotta send the target on their merry way to an early grave, we want you to give us an idea on how we should do it.”
“And why can’t you guys figure it out?”
“L/N we need you for this, its a complicated mission… I myself want you in the field and execute this yourself…”
You sigh, running a hand down your face. You worked for KorTac - a mercenary group - and you assisted Price and his team the Task Force 141 on occasion. But you mainly worked solo, the Task Force 141 never met you, other than Price and Laswell. You met Ghost as well, you both stay in contact occasionally, only in case of emergencies… well more like, needing a ride from the base back home on the very rare occasion he decides to go home.
“Pay?” You ask.
“Whatever your rate is, kid.” He replies.
“Good. I’ll be there in 3 hours.” You hear Price reply with confirmation before hanging up the phone. Your fingers drum against the counter.
Okay, cool, doing another job, nothing new right? Just been out of the field for a few years, just gotta warm up a bit thats all… Right?
———
“Okay behave, don’t do anything silly and listen to your teachers. And remember to listen to Amber’s parents okay? Have a good day and a fun sleepover.” You say to your daughter - Emilia - kissing her forehead. “Yep!” She chimes, a smile spread across her cheeks, her braids neatly tucked up into a ponytail. “Good, Love you.” You smile, pulling her into a hug. “Love you too Mama.” She squeezes her arms around your neck, your crouched form still larger than her. Once you let go, she waves goodbye, running into school towards her friends. You smile, quickly turning around to walk towards the car park.
You make your way towards the dark blue sedan you bought far too long ago, still surprised it still works. Your face falls when you see a figure leaning against the hood of it, hands in their pockets, clad in black. Including a cap and what looks like a skull balaclava. You sigh, knowing who it is. Its not a common thing to see people walk around in a skull print mask and clad in full black.
“Lieutenant…” You greet when you reach him, he stands up and nods to you. “C/N…. Or should I call you Miss L/N?” He pokes, his dead pan tone not helping his remark to come across as teasing. You shake your head with a smile, unlocking the car. “I’m assuming you’ve been sent to make sure I end up coming right?”
Ghost shrugs, a small nod accompanying it. “We can’t be too careful…” He states, climbing into the passenger seat as you get into the drivers side. “Right… whatever you say Ghost.” You huff, buckling yourself in as you pull out of the car parking.
———
“The mission will be tough, but I brought an old acquaintance along to help us plan out a strategy. Boys, meet C/N. She has worked with me in the past and used to work for the Mercenary ground KorTac, she now works solo for the government.” Price states as you stand at the front of the room.
“Hello, Yes before you ask I’m what some call an ‘assassin’. I work solo but I haven’t worked in the field for some years now, as I have had other things going on. But I am still qualified to assist you boys in any way to make sure this mission is a success.” You pause, locking eyes with Ghost, he knows you’re nervous to be here again. You continue to inform them the best strategies for them to be able to do this unnoticed, especially while inside.
———
It’s the day of the mission, you managed to get a babysitter for Emilia. She wasn’t all too happy about you leaving for a few days, but you said you’ll be back in not time, and have a gift for her. Which is partly true, you just hope nothing goes south and cause you to stay away longer than you planned. You want to be back by the weekend, or at least before the new school week starts.
Your plan to stay out of the field didn’t last long, Gaz ended up falling sick with food poisoning, pretty bad food poisoning from the amount of time he spent in the bathroom or medical bay yesterday. Still having an upset gut this morning when you arrived at an ungodly hour in the morning, having just dropped Emilia off at the baby sitters.
The team is communicating back and forth over the comms, you’ve managed to infiltrate the building where the target is. The slick walls on the outside not making the job easier. You are definitely a lot less fit than what you thought you were, but still fit enough to keep up with the team and your job on this mission.
Assassinate the target, and get the hell home.
Simple right? Yeah really simple, if it wasn’t a great big warehouse like building with barely any cover or high points for you to use to your advantage.
———
“Got eyes on the target.” You whisper into the comms, slinking along the beams that support the A-Frame ceiling of the warehouse. “Copy that, Ready when you are C/N.” Price states, Ghost and Soap stating something of confirmation.
You step lightly across the beam, your light footwork going unnoticed by the man littering the floor below you. There’s a catwalk just below you, one armed guard standing at a door that leads into the office where your target sits, back to the door and window that overviews the factory.
The guard walks up and down the cat walk intermittently, observing everything below him. Never above him. How stupid.
As soon as the guard passes by under you, reaching a part in the catwalk railing that’s solid sheet metal. You jump down, landing lightly on your feet, the sounds of the factory drowning out your movement. Crouched low you sneak up behind him, slicing the backs of legs, right through the tendons that keep him standing. You spring up, hand covering his mouth to keep him silent. Other arm wrapping around to the front, quick jerk to the side. Lights out.
You gently lay his limp body down, tucking him up against the metal barrier.
“Guards out, preparing to breach the targets office.” You communicate. “Be careful C/N.” Ghost states over the Comms, both him and Soap just downstairs at the entrance, ready to breach if anything goes sideways. “Always am.” You hear Soap snort at your reply as Price growls at you all to focus.
Your skilful hands test the door, it doesn’t budge, the window that’s just a foot or two away from the edge of the cat walk is open. Either pick lock the door and risk getting caught with your back to the open or swing in through the open window and possibly fall and either hurt your self, die, or break all your bones then die by one of the other guards bullets. Either way you could end up dead.
Window.
Quickest way in.
———
The mission was a success, you managed to get into the room, secure the target and kill them. Clean and quietly. Getting out was a different mission entirely, one of the guards spotted the fact they couldn’t see another guard on the cat walk. They investigated and found the slumped body of the dead guard. Immediately yelling for the alarm to be pulled.
Ghost and Soap busted in to draw their attention to them and away from the office, all you had to do was get the fuck out and get to the extraction point. You managed to slip out the window on the far side of the office, but not without being nicked by the a few bullets.
You manage to sprint across the roof, throwing yourself off the edge and landing on top of a large truck with a large thump. You cough harshly, feeling like your ribs got smashed by a sledge hammer. You stumble to your feet, slipping off the side of the truck and sprinting towards the back fence of the compound, you glance to your right, seeing Ghost and Soap climbing the wall quickly. You fling yourself into the fence, dragging yourself over the top, thankful theres not barbed wire.
“C/N? You good?” Soap calls over the comms, you can hear he’s breathless, the faint sound of Ghost in the background barking orders out to the extraction chopper to start the engine. “Y-Yeah…” You wheeze, rushing through the brush of the forest, weaving in and out of trees heading uphill towards the small clearing the chopper is situated in. Your lungs burn, the cold air stinging your eyes and cheeks. The adrenaline numbing the pain in your leg and arm, your ribs still feeling like you’re wearing a corset.
You stumble into the clearing, Ghost and Soap a few paces ahead, the lieutenant spins around. Noticing you’ve arrived, Soap running to the chopper. You nod to Ghost as you approach, Ghost waits for you to pass before following after you into the chopper. You slump down into the uncomfortable chair of the helicopter, adjusting to keep your ribs from being pushed on by the seat strap.
Both the men ask if you’re okay, you wave them off chuckling while wheezing out a “Just a little unfit is all.” Soap chuckles, Ghost just shakes his head lightly, moving forward to signal for the chopper to get you all out of there.
———
Once back in England and on base you get a phone call from the babysitter a normal thing, it’s almost eight thirty in the evening “Hello?” You ask, bringing the phone to your ear as you walk down path towards the entrance of the base, car parked not too far front he entrance. “Hey Miss L/N! Lizzie here, I was just gonna put Emilia to bed. Are you free to talk to her?” The babysitter Lizzie states, it’s almost like a nightly ritual. Every night that you’re not home, whoever is looking after your daughter will call to see if your available to say goodnight to Emilia.
“Yeah I’m free.” You state, stopping at the end of the path by the entrance of the main building, sitting down on the bench outside. You hear Lizzie talking to Emilia, your daughter sounding tired but excited. “MAMA!” She calls through eh phone, you smile a and laugh lightly hearing your daughters voice warms your heart, her sweet voice making you happy. “Hey pumpkin. You behaving?” You ask her, having a teasing tone. “Yeah! We got to watch a movie while eating dinner!” She states happily, you smile listening to her talk about what happened throughout the day.
The door opens and closes, Ghost slips out into the cold evening. His eyes spot you off to the side, its dusk, the flood lights not coming on just yet. He can see your breath in the cold air, billowing out past your lips. His own breath billowing out into the air as he pulls his mask up, he leans against the small wall of the entrance staircase. He shoves he cigarette between his lips, cupping his hands around the flame of the lighter. He hears your laugh, it echos into the evening air. Its warm and light to his ears, his eyes flick up to watch you. He’s too far away to hear what you’re talking about.
You bid Emilia goodnight, shutting off your phone as you shoved it into your jacket pocket. Sighing as you search your small duffle bag for your keys, knowing you threw them in there. You wince, groaning as you lean over, gripping your side with ragged breaths.
Ghost pushes off the wall as soon as he sees you double over on the bench, showing pain. “Hey hey hey… what’s wrong?” He mumbles, flicking his cigarette in front of his boot and stomping it out. Stopping over the smouldering ashes to crouch down in front of you, pulling his mask down quickly as he kneels. “C/N what’s wrong?” He asks, his voice stern as he looks at your scrunched face, pain obvious across your expression. “My ribs- I… I thought they were just bruised.” You wheeze out, sitting back to look at him. His hands ghost over your knees as he stands, sitting next to you.
“Let me check, we don’t want you to go home with broken bones. Are you hurt anywhere else?” He asks, motioning for you to shrug off your jacket. “Just a few grazes from a bullet but I handled them, they weren’t deep.” You groan, pulling your jacket off, your thick jersey and shirt thankfully being warm enough in the crisp air. “Okay, may I touch your ribs? Under your jumper?” The taller man asks, you nod your head turning slightly so your back is facing him. His glove clad hands snake under your jersey and shirt, ghosting over your waist up to your ribs.
“Did you land on your back or front?” He asks, his fingers delicately pressing against your rib cage. “Front, kinda threw myself off the roof onto a truck roof…” you state, flinching when his hands snake around to your front, right under the hem of your sports bra. Rough gloves pressing into your ribs. You wine, flinching away from his hands. “Ow- Watch it lieutenant…” you snap, your body disagreeing with your sudden movements. “M’sorry” he mumbles, he pulls his hands back. Laying your jacket across your shoulders again. “Well nothing is broken from what I could tell, but you’re not driving.” He states, standing from his spot next to you and grabbing your duffle bag and throwing it over his shoulder.
You look at him confused, a brow raise as you slip your arms through eh jacket again, fixing your jersey and shirt in the process. You stand, looking up at the large man. “What? I need to get home, what the hell do you mean Ghost?” You ask, tone almost angry. “I’m driving you home, you shouldn’t drive when you have damaged ribs.” He states, keeping his explanation to a minimum. You sigh shaking your head as you follow him, he ready knows where your car is. You both arrived in the same vehicle so thankfully he remembered where you parked.
———
The drive back to your place was quiet, the occasional question, or observation. Ghost helps you out of your car, his hand ghosting over the small of your back guiding you up the stairs of the small apartment. “You didn’t have to walk me to my door, Ghost.” You state, unlocking the door and pushing the door open. Toeing off your boots by the door and dumping your bag on the couch as you walk past it, Ghost follows you in, leaving his boots by the door while closing it and locking it. He immediately walks towards your bathroom, he’s been here a few times, he knows the layout like the back of his hand. “Ghost? The hell are-” “Finding your med kit, take your shirt off, I need to properly check your ribs.” You stare down the corridor towards the bathroom with a shocked expression. You throw your coat over the back of the couch, walking down the hallway towards the bathroom, passing it towards your bedroom at the end of the hallway. “I’m in my room just so you know.” You call out, grabbing the hem of your jersey, wincing when you tug it up.
You jump at the feeling of calloused hands resting over yours. “G-Ghost?” You stutter, feeling his presence behind you, his breathing quiet and muffled by his mask. “Let me help.” He offers, more like stating he is going to help you even if you deny it. You lift your arms above your head, wincing at the movement. He tugs the heavy fabric carefully over your head, throwing it over to the hamper in the corner. You wince you turn around, looking up at the taller man. “Why… Why are you doing this?” You ask, brows furrowed.
“You go n’one else to help you, and I know that you wouldn’t get help.” He states, gently pulling your dark shirt up and over your head as well, your sports bra on full display. Ghost’s eyes linger on your chest for a second before quickly adverting his eyes to the medkit on your bed. “Sit down.” He mumbles as he opens the small bag, kneeling down in front of you. You sit with your arms tucked around your stomach, conscious of how you look.
You have always been conscious of your body, especially after your pregnancy. Your tummy never got back to as toned and flat as it was before. Stretch marks paint your hips and thighs, and your lower abdomen like tiger stripes, rough to the touch and unpleasant to look at. Ghost grabs the anti inflammatory cream from the kit, pulling his gloves off and warming the cream up in his hands. You stare at the movement of his hands, mind wandering to thoughts you never thought you would have again.
What would his hands feel like, I wonder if his touch is soft - he lays wears gloves maybe he has soft hands? Maybe they are rough, like his personality. What his he doesn’t like what I look like and thinks I’m disgusting, what if he thinks pathetic for being in pain. What if-
“Y/n?” Ghost asks, he’s being saying your name for the past few moments. You snap your attention back to him, letting out a small ‘huh?’ When you notice him looking at you with slightly furrowed brows. “Can I put the cream on?” He asks, his voice quiet, his hands resting on your legs, palms facing up with the cream smeared across them. “Oh… uh yeah…” A small blush of embarrassment paints your cheeks as you sit straighter, arms resting across your tummy. Ghost watches you sit up properly, reluctant to move your arms. He attempts to work around your arms, gently spreading the cream across your ribs. His hands are calloused but his touch his soft but firm enough to make sure the cream spreads.
“…Love, I need you to move your arms…” He states softly, his eyes looking up to yours, his soft with concern. You furrow your brows, looking away as you move your arms, the yellow light from your lamp glowing softly across your skin. The light bumped stretch marks marring your skin, the deep colour a large contrast against the rest of your skin, most of them have lightened but a few are still dark. You flinch when you feel his hands move lower along your rib cage.
He hasn’t said anything, quiet, like always, eyes analysing everything he is doing in great detail.
He finishes rubbing the cream in after gently lifting the side of your sports bra to get under the cloth, gently massaging the cream into your sore body. “Its still going to be bruise to shit, you’ll have to be careful…” He mumbles, he gently takes your left arm into his hands, peeling back the bandage you haphazardly wrapped around while back on the base. He smears the residue of the cream around the wound, “You did a good job at cleaning it…. Just half assed bandage” he teases lightly, re wrapping your arm with a clean bandage.
You shrug, handing your head, eyes trained on his knee thats pressing into the plush carpet of your room. The same carpet you paid too much money for and installed it yourself while almost 3 months pregnant. A lot of tears have been shed on this carpet, some blood but mainly tears. You hear him say something, your mind elsewhere as you mindlessly shake your head. Not a hundred percent sure on what you were disagreeing too.
You never noticed how detailed his tattoo is, its on display as he takes his jacket off, rolling his long sleeve up. The permanent ink thats been delicately painted into his skin stand out against the rest of his pale skin tone. The scars he’s gained after the tattoo break the ink in small lines, mostly the ink has stayed. His hands are large, rough but gentle. He’s always been a tough and scary man on the outside but you can see he has the same needs as anyone else. Love, affection and care… even partnership. Yes he has the team but he needs something more, but he’s scared, hesitant. Horrified if he gets too attached or too close with someone he cares about he will lose them, he’s terrier he will do the wrong thing, scare them off, pained himself in the a bad light he’s always been known to hold.
Ghost eventually gets to check the bullet graze on your thigh, its shallow. Still needing antibiotic cream and a new bandage, your track pants that unzip up your mid thigh are scrunched up around your hips and upper thigh as he works on your injury. Mumbling something as you hold the clothing out of the way.
“…Can you stay the night?”
Ghost’s movements cease for a brief moment, his breathing stilling as he glances up at you then back down at the bandage he’s wrapping around your thigh. You stay silent, looking at him. Hands itching to do something, but you can’t.
“…Sure…” he replies after a moment.
You nod your head, happy that he agreed. A little anxious despite the fact you know him, he knows you. Fuck he even knows your daughter since she was a wee babe, but hasn’t seen her for some years. She probably won’t remember him at all. She was barely three when he met her, she’s now turning six in a week.
Ghost zips your track pants back up, pulling the fabric down your leg. His hands linger on your covered calf. Fingers pressing in the muscle gently as he stares blankly. You can see he’s thinking, thinking to the point of being motionless. You lean forward, ignoring the slight pain thats throbbing throughout your body. You reach down a tap his hand thats on your calf, knowing he isn’t fond of physical touch. “Ghost…” you whisper, trying to draw him out of his thoughts.
He snaps his head up to look at you, eyes set at a hard glare which soften slightly when he realises its you. You give him a soft smile. “You okay?” You ask softly, his hands falling away from your calf, the warmth going with it. You miss it, the comforting weight and warmth of his large hands gripping your calf. He nods his head as he cleans his throat, standing to clean up the med kit and discard of the old bandages. “Yeah, I’ll be right back… Get uh…” he pauses glancing over at you when he turns to walk to the door. “Change and get into bed, I’ll get you water an a pain killer.” He states, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
Ghost shuts the door softly, careful to not slam it. He glances down at his watch. 2245 (10:45pm) he groans quietly, nudging the bathroom door open again the put the med kit back in the sink cabinet.
Why the hell did I agree to stay? What the fuck is wrong with me? Her skin was so soft… Her stretch marks were fucking amazing- FUCK I can’t think like this. I need to stop thinking like this, we are friends… are we even friends? What is she hates me and Is only offering for me to stay out of sympathy or it being late? God she has a kid, I can’t just barge into their life and be the man they see with their mother. I’m not a go-
His thoughts get cut short when he spots a photo of the fridge door, one side of it ripped, torn off. He reaches up and slides it out from under the sunflower magnet. The photo is of you, smiling as bright as the sun thats beaming in through the tree tops. Emilia is cradled in your arms, clearly only a few months old. Her big eyes beaming in sunlight, same colour as yours. Ghost’s fingers trace the ripped edge of the photo, he knew who was supposed to be there. He quickly pins it back to the fridge before taking the pain killers and water to your room.
———
You watch as Ghost places the bottle of water and pain killers on the bedside table. You’re sitting in bed, bag t-shirt and shorts. You look up at ghost, patting the bed next to you. Ghost stares for a moment, shocked you want him in your bed and not to just crash on the couch.
He opens his mouth to deny but you beat him to it. “You aren’t sleeping on that piece of shit couch, you’re staying in here with me. And thats final.” You state, tone firm. Ghost looks from you to the open space on the king sized bed next to you. His eyes flickering back and forth over and over again. “Sleeping on top of the blankets.” He mumbles out, knowing we won’t be able to get past your stubborn attitude, you’re a mother. You know how to get your way. You smile, a soft one of reassurance. You throw a spare shirt at him and point towards the box in the corner.
“Stole this from you a year ago cause you forgot to take it with you after you did your washing here…” You chuckle lightly, “The box should have some basketball shorts or something you can wear. They were my brothers that he gave to me when I was pregnant cause they were bigger than my clothes.” Ghost just nods, crouching down in front of the box and searching through it, he knows you would be angry at him if he slept in his clothes he wore that day.
He looks over at you then towards the lamp next to you, you get the idea and turn over. Back facing him, hand resting on the switch to turn it off as soon as you feel the bed dip behind you. It feels like an eternity for him to lay on the bed, even though he’s on top of the covers. You can hear a small groan emitting from his side of the bed, you flick the switch. The room delving into darkness, the only light peeking out from under our door, the nightlight that sits in the hallway for Emilia happily lighting under the dark corridor.
It quiet, apart from your breathing and Ghost’s muffled breaths, and the starting pitter patter of rain hitting the window. You turn to lay on your back, keeping your eyes on the ceiling.
“Thank you.”
Your soft words break the silence, Ghost looks at you from the corner of his eye. He’s laying like a dead man, straight as board, hands clasped together over his stomach as he looks towards the ceiling.
He hums in response, he turns his head to look at you properly, the dim light from the hallway making it practically impossible to see anything, but his eyes have adjusted easily. He reaches over to clasp your hand thats resting on your own stomach overtop the blankets. Squeezing it softly, letting you know he heard you. A small smile creeps up onto your lips. You turn onto your side, facing him now. He copies your action, bodies mirroring each other as your hands lay clasped together between the two of you. You let out a small sigh, his hand squeezes yours when he hears the heavy breath.
“Emilia would’ve jumped in between us if she was here, she doesn’t like when it starts raining late at night.” You state, smiling to yourself as you trace Ghost’s broad silhouette in the dark room. The small amount of light peeking through the thing curtains behind him on the far side of the room. “So she’s scared of rain?” Ghost’s rough voice cuts through the quiet, the gravel in his voice hoarse but still has a soft tone to it as he tries to talk quietly.
You shrug, unsure what she’s actually scared of. “I think it’s more when it suddenly pours down and it’s dark, the sound and lack of light scares her.” You hum, still trying to figure out what your daughter is scared of, even though you have reassure her many times that its just rain. You hear the deep rumble of Ghost making a humming like sound, like he’s thinking.
“Well… I’m sure there’s no monsters, you’re scary enough” he teases, squeezing your hand. You feign hurt, gasping and swatting his chest lightly. A giggle leaving you, a small, breathy almost non existent chuckle rumbles from Ghost’s chest. “God, if the Ghost thinks I’m scary, I really must be.” You laugh, teasing him back. Your ribs hurt from your laughter, but you’re too caught up in the fact you are hearing the one and only Lieutenant Riley laughing, laying on your bed, your hand in his.
“Nah, yer alright. You’re scary, but not as scary as Price when he hasn’t had his morning coffee” he jokes, tugging you closer slightly, he’s still on top of the blankets. His arm wrapping around your waist, careful on your sore ribs. “That’s true.” You agree, laughing softly as you place a hand on his chest, feather lightly touches run along your back. Your head tucked under his chin, his mask still on. Thankfully he didn’t wear the hard skull one and just a simple fabric one with a skull print.
Your laughter slowly ceases, breathing going back to normal. After a few moments of comfortable silence, you speak up again.
“Thank you again… This means a lot Ghost.”
A beat of silence passes.
“Simon…”
“What?”
“Call me Simon…”
Your eyes widen at his words, a warm feeling flooding your chest as you tuck your face into the nook between his shoulder and neck.
“Thank you Simon.”
“Anytime Y/n”
His words were barely a whisper, you fall back into silence. Its nice, the heat from his body keeping you warm, eating your pain in a way you didn’t think was possible. The pain killers probably taking most the credit for the lack of pain, yet the sense of security and comfort falls over you. Your eyes slide shut, breathing evening out as sleep pulls you into the depths of slumber.
“Goodnight, Love.”
————
You walk out of your room, hair messy, rubbing your eyes, feet padding across the hardwood of the hallway. Mind still in sleep mode. You round the corner into the kitchen from the hallway, bumping into something… more like someone. You wobble as you lose your balance, arms snake around your waist quickly, pulling you close.
“Careful, I don’t wanna take you to the hospital cause you broke your ass.” A deep voice chuckles, you look up, bleary eyed and confused. “O-Oh… Sorry Gho- Simon…” You apologies, rubbing a hand down your face with a groan, leaning your forehead against his chest. He’s changed into his cargo pants from the day before, same shirt from last night. It fits a little tight across his chest and his biceps but not too tight.
“Drinks on the coffee table, go sit down.” He states, his voice still laced with sleep. You look at him confused, glancing over at the coffee table. “Thanks, but you didn’t have to.” You state, walking over to the couch and slumping into it.
“I’m not the one who looks like I got ran over by a bus.” He teases as he walks over, bowl of fruit in hand and more painkillers and a glass of water. You thank him as he hands them to you, he sits next to you on the couch. “Feeling any better?” He asks, voice quiet. You nod your head, scooping some fruit into your mouth. The comfortable quiet gets broken by a knock at the door, you jump from your spot. “Shit” you mumble around a mouthful of fruit. “That’s Lizzie with Emilia.” You state stumbling from the couch, placing the bowl of fruit on the table, throwing your hair back into some sort of up-do. Simon stands from his spot, hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “Sit back down, I’ll get it.” He states, turning to go to the door.
“Wait Simon you still got-” you were gonna say hes still got his mask on, it will scare Lizzie and Emilia and confused them both as well. But your words die in your throat as you watch him tug it over his head, stuffing it in his pocket. You didn’t realise until now he must’ve washed the black war paint off when he got up. You watched in stunned silence, the man who never takes the mask off, ever. Has now taken it off, his dark short cut hair on display.
With baited breath you watch as the door opens, Lizzie coming into view with Emilia standing next to her gripping her hand. Lizzie looks up at the taller male with wide eyes, filled with confusion. You’re too shocked to register any words being exchanged between the two, you’re shaken from your trance when Simon turns to face you with a small smile. Jaw covered with a light stubble, dark chocolate eyes, a small scar cuts into his brow, two other scars rest just above his other brow. His nose is sharp, jawline defined. On his left another scars cuts through his top lip going up to the outer edge of his nose. There’s a another scar that paints his skin from the bridge of his nose trailing to the right, ending on his cheek bone below his eyes.
“MAMA!” Emilia screams, snapping you out of the trance properly. You crouched down catching her in your arms, ignoring the fact she just rammed straight into your heavily bruised ribs. “Hey pumpkin! I missed you so much.” Emilia wraps her arms around your neck, legs clinging to your waist like a koala as you stand up. Your arms scooped under her to support her properly as you walk over to stand next to Simon. “Thanks a lot Lizzie. I’ll go get your pay-” Simon stops you from moving towards the kitchen island to get your wallet. “Already paid her.” He states, hand resting on your lower back as you look up at him. Emilia looks between the two of you smiling. Lizzie waves it off and says shes happy to do it again, you bid her goodbye and close the door.
Emilia dragged Simon off to her room while you talked to Lizzie, saying something about wanting to show him her stuffed toys. You thank Lizzie again, showing your appreciation for her looking after your daughter. Once you closed the door, you stroll down the hallway. Hearing the rumbling timbre of Simon’s voice softly echoing around the apartment. You reach Emilia’s room, leaning against the door frame, you bite your tongue to not giggle at the sight in front of you.
There’s stands, Simon Ghost Riley, Clad in black cargo pants and a dark grey shirt. Sitting Criss Cross Apple Sauce on the floor, the pastel pink fluffy rug below him a strong contrast to his clothing. Emilia is rambling on about her stuff toys, pulling each stuffed animal off her bed to show the large man. Simon’s eyes are soft, just the barest hint of a smile on his lips as he nods along to Emilia’s words.
“And this one is Burt! He’s a water dragon! See!” The young girl states, a large smile on her face, cheeks rosy from excitement to showing a new person her toys. “Nice to meet you Burt.” Simon greets the toy, probably the umpteenth one he has greeted in the span of five minutes. “Nice to meet you too Mr. Simon!” Emilia states, hanging her voice to sound like a boyish drawl. You can’t help but chuckle at this, walking into the room when they both look over at you.
“I see your toys like Mr. Simon quite a lot, sweetheart.” You smile, taking a seat on the ground, knees tucked beneath you. Emilia smiles, nodding her head as she grabs another toy, leaving the small blue dragon next to Simon, like the rest of the toys she’s shown him so far. “She’s very confident and friendly for a kid.” Simon quietly states, keeping his voice low to talk to you. You nod and shrug your shoulders, a small smirk on your lips. “Yeah, I guess so. She always has been.”
“Mr. Simon… are you staying the night?” Emilia ask’s suddenly, gripping her favourite stuffed dog, in her hands. Simon looks from the young girl to you, in which you just nod to Emilia. “If your mum says I can.” He states, his tone soft. Emilia’s eyes light up, she jumps towards you, pressing the dog toy into your chest. “Please mama! Please please please! Can he stay!” She asks, more like demands. You laugh lightly, scooping the young girl up in your arms. Cradling her against you, humming in a a question manner. “Hmmm. I don’t see why not. SO yes, he can stay.” You conclude, laughing when Emilia squeals in excitement. “Thank you thank you!” She dashes from her spot in your arms, towards her bedroom door. “I gotta go build a fort for movies! Don’t come over till I’m done!” She states, dashing towards the living room, her bare feet pounding against the hardwood.
“Well… Look’s like you have a fan.” You tease the quiet man, a small smile on your lips as your eyes soften when you see him. His large and scarred hands softly gripping the small dragon toy in his hands. “Seem’s so… Guess I’m going to be spending more time here.” He states, standing as he places the toy back on the bed. You stand next to him, leaning up and leaving a light kiss on his cheek. “Thank you…” you softly state, placing a hand on his upper arm before leaving the room when you hear Emilia yell something about needing help.
Simon watches you leave, a hand ghosting over his cheek. His chest tightening with emotion, it feels tight but its almost comforting. He shakes his head as he follows you out, planning to help Emilia with her ‘fort’.
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fadedin2u · 3 months
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pick up and roll the dice (ch. 1)
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read in between the lines, i know you love me…
Summary: You’ve been best friends with Ellie since she moved into your neighborhood in elementary school, and now, you’re sharing a dorm room together at college. What could go wrong when you both start reading between the lines? Based on the song Hold On by The Internet.
word count: 2.5k
content: childhood best friends!au, dealer!ellie, fem!reader, college!au, modern!au, hurt/comfort, ellie’s a little bit of a player, ellie is a simp (not surprising), art major!ellie, kinda slow burn??
warnings: sexual harassment (mentioned), drug usage (weed), lots of cursing (what do you expect), men (mentioned), expect nsfw chapters in the future so MDNI 18+
notes: this is my first fic i’ve written for tlou, and it’s about damn time bc i’ve been lurking in the ellie williams x reader tags for months lmao, hope you enjoy! next chapter should be out by the end of the weekend! reblogs/likes are much appreciated :) let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!
You’re welcomed into your dorm room by the smell of pot smoke. You walk in, already in a foul mood, shaking with adrenaline and anxiety. You drop your bag on the floor and kick off your shoes.
Ellie, your roommate and close friend since childhood, is sitting on her twin bed, leaning out the window as she smokes a joint. She’s dressed casually in a pair of old sweatpants and a t-shirt, her auburn hair haphazardly thrown up into a half-bun, most strands too short to all be gathered into a single bun. When she catches sight of you, she immediately can tell something is up.
“You okay?” Ellie asks, tapping the ash from her joint out the window.
You walk over to Ellie’s bed and melodramatically collapse face-first with a “Hmmph.”
“I’m dropping out.” You deadpan, your voice muffled by Ellie’s duvet.
Ellie takes a long drag from her joint and exhales a puff of smoke before turning to you, her eyebrows raised. “Huh? What?”
She sits up, holding the joint between her fingers before she gestures for you to clarify.
“You can’t drop out. What’re you gonna do all day? Sit around and eat Oreos?”
You stay face-planted onto Ellie’s bed.
“Yup. And I’ll be lazy and happy.” You say.
It takes every ounce of self-restraint inside of Ellie to not shove you off of her bed right this second. Instead, she leans forward and nudges your shoulder with her knee.
"Babe. Honey. Sweetie. Angel-Face. Get up. You sound like a dumbass right now.”
You roll over, and Ellie notices that your eyes are red and puffy, clearly having cried before coming back to the dorm.
“Hey! I’m having a crisis!” You exclaim, folding your arms over your chest.
Ellie’s face softens and her eyebrows furrow, concerned. “Hey… What’s going on? Want some of this?” She offers the joint to you.
You take it gratefully, taking a long drag. You shake her head, looking down at your miniskirt. “I really need to stop wearing this skirt in public… When I was walking back here, two dudes started following me and saying weird, gross shit. I tried telling them off, but I must have looked so pathetic that they just laughed… They followed me almost the whole way here.”
You pass the joint back to Ellie, saying sarcastically, “So, yes. In conclusion, I’m dropping out.”
Ellie is stunned silent. Her high buzz instantly fades and she reaches out to put a comforting hand on your shoulder. Ellie doesn't say anything at first, but she looks down at you with a worried expression on her face.
She puts out her half-finished joint, and scoots forward on the bed towards you. Her expression is stern and angry, and she seems utterly furious on your behalf.
“Did those fucking pieces of shit touch you? Did you call the cops?”
As she’s speaking, Ellie’s entire demeanor changes, and it’s obvious how upset these men made her. Ellie always seems to have a lot of rage built-up inside of her, but it’s amplified now.
You bite your lip, looking down.
“They didn’t touch me… I didn’t call the cops. I wasn’t thinking clearly, I should have called someone, but I was so freaked out, and… I’m sorry, Els.” You say quietly.
Ellie grabs your arm and pulls you towards her.
"It's okay, babe. It's not your fault."
Ellie leans forward to hug you tightly, rubbing your back.
"Those dickwipes should have never said anything to you. Let alone touched you. If they ever do that again, you tell me, and I'll take care of it."
Ellie takes a deep breath and sighs. She leans back against the wall and pulls you with her, keeping you close. You allow yourself to be pulled into Ellie’s hold, grateful, and you feel tears press at the back of your eyes.
“I’m sorry, I really don’t want to cry again.” You say, hiding your face in Ellie’s shoulder.
Ellie wraps her arms around you tighter, comforting you.
"Hey. It's alright to cry. Let it all out." She murmurs soothingly. "Don't be ashamed. You were just fucking harassed."
She holds you, continuing to rub your back and kissing the top of your head. Ellie feels sick at the thought of you hurting or struggling alone.
You sniffle as a few tears run down your cheeks, still hiding your face in Ellie’s shoulder.
“I just don’t understand what I can possibly do in those situations. And I feel like they happen all the fucking time.”
You wipe your face, “Like fucking yesterday! When I got catcalled at 8AM by the construction workers working on the new science building, and I was just trying to get to class!”
You shake your head, “I just feel so helpless in those situations, because they don’t even see me as a real person.”
"Well, you gotta make them see you as a force to be reckoned with." Ellie says, her voice stern.
She pauses, and lets out an exhale.
"These guys obviously aren't going to stop catcalling and harassing women, so either we ignore the comments, or we learn how to respond. It's a fucking shame that it has to be this way but..."
Ellie sighs and leans back. She rubs your shoulder with one hand, and her other hand gently rests on your thigh.
You feel your cheeks go hot, hyper-focused on Ellie’s hand on your leg.
“But, Els… I can’t fight for shit. There’s no way those guys could ever be intimidated by me the way you can intimidate them.”
You wipe your face, embarrassed by your tears. “Like, how could they possibly see me as anything other than a ‘slut who’s asking for it’, if I recall what they wouldn’t stop saying to me correctly.” You say, quoting the men who followed you home.
Ellie leans in a little closer and rests her head on your shoulder.
"I think that my girl can kick ass and dish it out as good as she takes it." Ellie's expression looks serious, and she gently squeezes your thigh as she speaks.
"Like, have you ever seen those videos on Instagram where girls absolutely own some big dudes? That'll be you, dude. Trust me, I know exactly what you're capable of. You just gotta learn how to take up space."
You laugh a little, wiping your face again.
“Is this you telling me that I need to take a boxing class?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.
Ellie chuckles, and smiles as she squeezes your leg again.
"Hell yeah. Take a boxing class. I wanna see you punch a fuckin' guy's lights out the next time he wants to harass you."
Ellie pauses and takes a deep breath.
"If you're worried about money for lessons or fuck-all, you know I got your back, right?" Ellie says earnestly. "And if there's any guy who's giving you problems, just say the fucking word and I'll kick their ass for you."
You laugh again, sniffling as you hug Ellie.
“My knight in shining armor.” You joke.
You pull back, taking a breath. “Thank you though, seriously. Today was just an overall shitty day, and I’m just glad that I get to come back to our dorm and be with my best friend.”
"Anytime." Ellie's expression is soft as she smiles at you.
Ellie glances at the joint on her bedside table, and glances back at you.
"Wanna hit that? Or are you tapped-out?"
You go to pick up the joint, and use Ellie’s lighter to re-light it.
“Me? Tapping out? Please-“ You say as you smile at Ellie, taking a drag.
Ellie chuckles, watching you with a fond smile.
You pass the joint to Ellie. “Besides, I’m chilling the fuck out tonight. Today was garbage, and I don’t want to keep thinking about anything.”
Ellie chuckles and shakes her head as she takes the joint.
"I feel so bad that you had such a fucking awful day. I know you've been going through some stuff recently, so today was the absolute last thing you needed."
Ellie inhales a long drag, and looks down at you.
"Can I ask you something, though?"
You nod, “Yeah, what’s up?”
You take the joint, hit it, and pass it back to Ellie.
Ellie takes another inhale and holds the smoke in for a moment.
"Do you ever just... like... hate men?" she looks at you. "I mean, you know... with everything you experience, and the guys you described today. Like, you ever just look at a guy, and immediately start hating him?"
Ellie pauses, taking another hit, "I mean, it's all I can think about, half the time, and I just... I can't fucking stand them most of the time."
You sigh, taking a hit from the joint and nodding.
“Yeah. I wish I didn’t. I wish that most men didn’t act the way they do, but they do. It’s kinda hard not to hate people who objectify and demean you every day of your life just for existing.”
Ellie pauses before speaking, "Do you think that Joel might ever be like that? I mean, I don't think so. He's a good guy and all. Just... you never know."
Ellie pauses and sighs. She's obviously been worrying about this for a while.
"Am I being dumb? Am I being stupid for thinking like that? I don't know. I just… I'm worried that, one day, people I love like Jesse and my dad are going to turn out to be a couple of fucking perverts."
You pause, having known Joel for years, taking a hit from the joint.
“I- I don’t know. I think they’re good people, especially Joel, but you never really know, until they slip up,” You say.
You squeeze Ellie’s shoulder, “I do really think that Joel is one of my favorite people I’ve gotten the chance to know, and I have crazy high standards for men. Your dad would never do anything to hurt you, and I don’t think he’d do anything to any one else either.”
You pass the joint to Ellie.
Ellie takes the joint and inhales, then passes it back to you.
"Yeah, you're right. You're totally right, and I know that. It's just hard, because I have such a negative image of guys right now, but you're right."
Ellie leans back and relaxes, "I just feel like I've been having some trust issues lately, and it sucks, and I've been… paranoid about people."
She pauses, and her voice starts to falter. "I just don't want to be let down like I have, you know?”
You nudge Ellie’s leg with your knee, “Hey. I won’t let you down. Or, at least, I’ll always try to not let you down, no matter what.”
You smile at Ellie, “We’re a team. Always have been, always will be.”
Ellie's eyes light up, “That's right. We will always have each other's backs. We’re always going to be there for each other."
Ellie takes a hit from the joint, and leans back. "I love you, you know that? Even though I've been a total bitch, these last few weeks… I need you more than you could possibly know."
Ellie pauses and looks down at you. "You are, without a doubt, the best friend I've ever had in my whole life."
You take the joint from Ellie, hitting it with a smile on your face as you internally curse yourself for getting flustered. Your head feels fuzzy from the weed.
“The feeling is mutual.” You say, passing Ellie the joint.
“I never got to ask, by the way, but how was your date with that girl… Kaylee? Karlie?” You ask to change the subject, trying to remember the name of Ellie’s latest of many campus flings.
Ellie laughs, "It's Kylie." she corrects, smirking and nudging your thigh.
"The date was a fun distraction, even though Kylie is a complete airhead. And, uh..." Ellie pauses, her face warming with embarrassment.
"...she tried to kiss me, and I completely froze.”
Ellie takes a hit and shakes her head, "I can't believe that I turned her down! She's cute and a fuckin’ cheerleader. I should have gone for it, I probably ruined my chances with her."
You laugh a little, pushing down the spikes of jealousy piercing your chest.
“Ellie Williams froze when a girl tried to kiss her?” You tease, knowing that Ellie is normally fairly bold.
“What happened? Were you too nervous or something?” You ask, taking a hit from the joint and passing it back to Ellie.
Ellie's face is a mix of embarrassment and frustration as you tease her. Ellie pauses, thinking.
"...Well, I froze because... I… I don't know. She seemed like a nice girl, but she's so... shallow."
Ellie sighs, taking a hit from the joint, and leans back.
"I'm a horrible dater, I know. I just have such a hard time connecting with people, I don't know."
You frown, “Hey. Don’t beat yourself up. She just doesn’t sound like the right girl, and that’s totally fine. You don’t need to get mad at yourself for not having an instant connection with a girl just because she’s hot.”
You pass the joint to Ellie, “Okay, you have the rest.”
Ellie smiles at you as she takes a hit and holds it in.
Ellie lets it out and shakes her head. "...Yeah, you're right. I just think I'm just trying so hard to find a connection with someone, y'know?"
"It's just hard to really trust someone new… I've been hurt by a lot of people in my life, and the last thing I want is to get hurt again." Ellie explains, her freckled cheeks rosy.
You sigh, “It is really scary to be vulnerable like that with people, I… I really fucking get that.”
You play with the hem of your skirt as you talk, “But there are people who are good, and trustworthy, and won’t leave you in the dust. I mean, you’re proof of that for me.”
Ellie's expression softens as she looks over at you
"I guess we are really similar in that way. We're both traumatized, we're both paranoid, and we're both distrustful. Fuck, who could blame us?" Ellie says with a shrug.
Ellie pauses, "I'm just glad I have you. You're the only people who I think I can really be myself around. Everyone else can fuck off. But not you."
Your stoned, hazy mind is thankfully quiet as you lean against Ellie, the two of you sat side-by-side on her bed.
Ellie’s cheeks get more pink as you do, her eyes half-lidded and red as she pulls you into her.
“Just… Relax. You really fucking deserve it.” Ellie says softly, her voice low and raspy from the smoke.
You nuzzle your face into her shirt, closing your eyes as you melt into her, and everything is good.
Ellie looks down at you, her pupils dilated and cheeks flushed. She looks back up at the ceiling, clenching her eyes shut as she thinks, I’m fucked.
chapter 2
texts with ellie and reader
287 notes · View notes
facefullofsadness · 28 days
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I NEED NINGNING SO BAD OMG IM SO GLAD I FOUND YOUUUU PLS TELL US MORE ABOUT YOUR THOUGHTS ABT HER
I'm in such a ningie mood lately and can't help but to write this LOL
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content - me going absolutely batshit insane talking about ning yizhuo, smut (switch!ning, cunnilingus, fingering, sex toy mentions, not a lot of actual smut just headcanons), not proofread in the slightest D;
wc - 1k
a/n - like I was literally just thinking ab ning2 when I saw this ask, I also have her pc out next to me rn so ningie close ur eyes baby don't watch me as I write this 🫶 also tysm anon for finding me hehe
like ningning is so fucking fine.
idk what god mixed together in his lil cauldron to cook up ning yizhuo, but she's actually so fucking RAAHHH. sorry this is gonna be so incoherent bc I'm just ningyi drunk as fuck right now.
I imagine a fluffy besties kinda relationship w her. like it's all giggly and flirty and you make each other's heart race with touches and words, but also love to be cute and cuddle, gift giving (more on her part bc she loves to buy things that remind her of you), domestic shit like groceries or cooking together. and also you loveeee talking shit! in an idol!au world, in a school!au world, in any type of world where you two meet and fall in love, you're best friends that talk shit before anything.
I mean u don't necessarily have to do that specifically, but I just feel like above all and at your relationship's core, you're best friends that are clingy and inseparable. so you just make the perfect pair when you finally become gfs. bb girl loves to say she's not a scorpio but I think that the oct born blood within her is in full effect in bed. I'm telling yall, autumn/fall born besties are horny mfs (I can confirm).
like already being physically affectionate with you prior to even dating, she would move quick with pushing it further. your first kiss even evolved into a very heated makeout sess straight away, hands gripping skin under shirts or running through each other's hair, legs intertwined, spit dripping down chins because both of you refused to pull away for air (need!). and like it only but amplified from that point on.
I feel like the first time happens unintentionally. probably a drunk game of truth or dare that gets touchy and suddenly ning ends up slurping the cum flowing out between your legs, moaning against your pussy and grinding her cunt against your leg as you sit back against the couch, your hand in her hair pulling her in further. chanting her name raspily as you grind your hips into her mouth, her tongue feeling so incredibly good in your leaking hole. you yell out her name as you interlace one of your hands with hers, her thumb rubbing against the skin of your wrist as you cum all in her mouth.
she shudders at the same time you do, cumming in her panties from grinding against your leg, unable to stop herself from getting turned on eating you out. and you fucking love watching as her eyes roll back with her mouth on your pussy, feeling the heavy vibrations from her screaming into your cunt.
of course returning the favor for your gf, pinning her down under you and fingering her tight puffy pussy as she squirms. you LOVE fingering her despite being obsessed with the taste of her cum, because you couldn't get enough of how her face contorted with every thrust of your fingers in her cunt. the way her mouth would fall open, the way her eyes rolled back, the way she would tilt her head backwards and expose her sweaty neck, the way she would reach out for anything to dig her nails into (sheets, blankets, your clothes, or your skin!), the way her moans sounded sooooo fuckinggg heavenlyyyy. I mean have you heard this woman sing? the melodious sound of her voice chanting whines and whimpers of your name, knowing she'd sound like this for you and you only. to add on, she's fucking loud, so just the sheer volume of her moaning for you riled you on so much.
she's a squirter me thinks. she's a creamer in my stripper fic but that's only because I wanted her to make reader squirt oop- maybe you both are! I mean I think we can all agree that she's a master pussy eater right? I can only imagine how good she fucking feels with her skillful tongue and mouth. she knows exactly what she's doing even if she's had no experience, yizhuo just seems like the type to be insanely good at eating girlies out. every time I see her, I either so badly wanna get eaten out by her or eat her out. I just know she's so reactive and sensitive but is obsessed with cumming over and over again, overstimulation and all.
the prettiest girl to ever exist. so pretty between your thighs, so pretty around your fingers, so pretty taking your tongue, so pretty on top of you, so pretty under you, such pretty moans to slip from her mouth, such pretty expressions when she feels your touch. IM GOING INSANEEEEE!!! vvv switch coded! I know she gives extremely pillow princess energy, but she's so utterly in love and obsessed with you that she wouldn't dare let you go without an orgasm because you deserve it! either extremely service top or power bottom.
loves to play around with toys, but ultimately opts sticking to mouth and fingers because she loves feeling all of you always. though it's not surprising in the least that she has a wide sex toy collection; vibrators, dildos, strap-ons, cuffs/rope/bindings, blindfolds, floggers, gags, clamps, collars, you name it, she probably has at least one. is down to experiment with almost anything and is very adventurous, she just wants to have a good time with you!
ning is just a really passionate lover overall. because even after hours of fucking and cumming everywhere, she always makes sure you're okay :(( kissing you gently on the neck where her face is buried after a long session, rubbing your skin where there might be red marks or scratches or what have you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, offering to get you a drink or run a warm shower/bath for you both. she makes you feel loved and that's the most important part (aside from the mind-blowing continuous climaxes she just gave you).
a/n - NING YIZHUO PLEASEEEE ONE CHANCE OH MY FUCKING GOD I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE WOMEN AND ARE A PUSSY EATER-
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silantryoo · 9 months
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BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — wish you were sober
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aeri uchinaga's mansion, gangnam-gu, seoul, korea. 2:14 am.
WARNINGS ; cheating, violence, intoxication, mentions of drug use, (kinda) driving under the influence, general angst, implied home life problems (4.0k)
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confusion. dread. betrayal.
y/n knew this feeling, where wonyoung had stared into her eyes for what was supposed to be one last time, telling her - showing her - that she didn't love her anymore.
the soft whispers of 'it's me, not you', and the dark eyes that seemed to be trained on everything but y/n's. she remembered everything, like a nightmare (because who remembers a good dream over something so detrimentally heartbreaking).
heartbreak.
that's what y/n was feeling.
"y/n?"
despite the loud reprimanding of minjeong behind her, or the bass that seemed to shake her entire being, all y/n could hear was her breath, hushed and quiet like the cries she had heard the day she met jang wonyoung, and the day she met yoo jimin.
jimin was supposed to love her.
the ace stood up, fully clothed except for the lack of the jacket - the one y/n had gifted her for their one hundredth day anniversary - which lay crumpled on the floor. her eyes glazed over with tears, her throat caught in a knot.
any other day, y/n would consider it regret on jimin's face, remorse, or maybe even love.
but she knew, no... jimin knew better than anyone that this wasn't love.
at least, she should've.
"it's not what it looks like." jimin reasoned out, pleading with y/n. behind her, kazuha covered her body, face flushed with alcohol and embarrassment.
minjeong scoffed, a smirk on her face. "it looks like you were eating her out."
jimin's eyes shifted, and it was almost like her irises had been replaced with a void, where nothing but fire and fury burned inside of them.
"fuck you, kim minjeong!" jimin screamed, stomping towards the mentioned girl. "why don't you stay out of our business for once?"
wonyoung knew this scene like the back of her hand, and despite her hatred for yoo jimin, she didn't want to see anyone get hurt.
"what if your underwear stays on for once?"
but unlike lily marrow, or like choi jisu, or any of the situations that had involved a high/drunk yoo jimin or anyone in a similar fashion, kim minjeong was making it difficult to avoid conflict.
"i'm gonna fucking kill you!" jimin grabbed minjeong by the hair, the latter girl gritting her teeth in pain.
wonyoung, although not exactly in the jimin prevention committee (which consisted of haewon who was currently drunk out of her mind, gaeul who was probably getting laid, and yujin who was no where to be found), had dealt with enough incidents of similar fashion to know how to defuse the situation.
the middle blocker stepped in, grabbing jimin's wrist.
jimin's grip only strengthened, her anger being amplified due to wonyoung's presence.
"you're gonna let her hurt me, y/n?" minjeong asked, y/n unresponsive and face blank. minjeong's eyebrows furrowed. "i showed you how much of a piece of shit she is, and you're gonna let her hurt me?"
"you... showed her?"
jimin looked at y/n, and it felt as if she was back in yeji's grasp, staring at herself in the mirror wondering why she wasn't good enough. why she was never good enough.
y/n had seen everything, and it was all kim minjeong's fault.
jimin raised her fist. all she felt was anger, like a red filter had somehow covered her thoughts, and sent her into a fury-filled haze. never in her life had she wanted to hurt someone as badly as herself, yet in front of her was minjeong, who was proving her wrong.
wonyoung grabbed her fist, holding it in place with all the strength she could muster.
the middle blocker looked at y/n, watching as her mind raced with nothing and everything, trying to both process and block the situation in its entirety.
it was familiar, and familiarity was a disease that plagued almost everyone in the room.
"stay out of this, wonyoung." jimin said lowly.
wonyoung never liked minjeong, but that didn't mean she wanted her to get hurt (and she knew that y/n would tear into herself if her best friend came out blooded and bruised).
"we have a game against KU next week." wonyoung reasoned out, making jimin falter. "if you hit her, you'll be suspended for the game, maybe longer."
the ace clenched her jaw. she hated that wonyoung was right, and hated the minjeong managed to end up unscathed.
jimin's hand dropped, and she roughly shoved her hand off minjeong. wonyoung gladly let go of jimin as well, and the three girl's turned their attention to y/n.
kazuha had been watching the three argue as she had gotten dressed. though their presence seemed to encapsulate the room, it was y/n's that seemed to overtake her field of view.
the girl seemed so small next to the three, head low and eyes shiny, as if she was trying not to break that exact moment.
kazuha wondered is she could face yunjin after everything she had done.
"baby..." fear ran through jimin's body. "baby, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to."
wonyoung watched silently, and for a moment, y/n's eyes met hers.
it was familiar, the look, and wonyoung couldn't shake the feeling of dread that surrounded her. still, no matter how horrible the situation was, she wasn't going to get involved unless y/n told her to.
she wasn't going to ruin y/n's chance at happiness, she just hoped she would break up with jimin for someone better (wonyoung wished it was her, but it wasn't. she knew that deep down).
"you're really gonna believe her?" minjeong interrupted, seemingly getting angrier by the second.
"i love you." y/n had never heard jimin more sincere in her life, but she didn't know what to believe anymore. "please believe me. baby, please."
y/n met jimin's eyes, and she saw nothing.
"who are you calling baby?" she stared at jimin, eyes glazed over in disgust as her lips quivered. "we aren't together anymore."
for a moment, jimin felt like she couldn't breath.
this was all wrong. it wasn't supposed to be like this. jimin knew she had messed up, but it wasn't her fault. it couldn't be, especially after everything.
she couldn't lose the one good thing in her life. not again.
"i'm sorry. please." jimin could feel familiarity rising in her chest, her sobbing now becoming pathetic wailing. she gripped onto wonyoung's arm, trying not to fall over. the copious amount of weed and alcohol was starting to get to her. "i'll be better. i'll do anything."
jimin could feel vomit rising in her chest, and she covered her mouth, turning to the closest thing she could find.
yena was sure to owe another fifteen thousand usd in damages.
y/n could feel her fingers twitch toward jimin, and it took everything in her to not run to the girl's side. her insides were screaming to protect her, to hold her, and to tell her that everything was going okay.
how could she do that when she wasn't okay herself? when the person that hurt her was the person she was trying to save?
when was someone gonna save her?
she looked over to wonyoung, her eyes laced in worry as jimin spewed her insides out into an expensive vase that looked european.
y/n wondered when wonyoung was gonna save her, if the taller girl even wanted to save her.
the middle blocker looked at her with worry, and with all the love she could muster in her beautiful, dark, doe-like eyes that told y/n that she was safe. that she was loved.
y/n knew she was delusional, but it seemed to amplify whenever she was near her ex-girlfriend.
she looked once more at jimin, and an ugly emptiness settled in her chest.
"can you take me home?" y/n whispered, her irises shifting to wonyoung.
wonyoung, who kept her safe. wonyoung, who she would listen to, who would listen to her. wonyoung, who loved her before, who she wished still loved her.
her wonyoung.
why couldn't jimin just be like wonyoung?
"are you fucking serious, y/n?" minjeong yelled so loud that her voice could be heard over the music. wonyoung frowned, not only at the yelling, but the footsteps that seemed to be coming up the stairs. "how many times do i have to remind you that she's your ex?"
wonyoung felt a hand on her shoulder, and she turned around to see alex baek and huh yunjin.
the volleyball player looked over to kazuha, marks on her neck on full display.
"what the fuck is going on here?" alex asked, looking over to jimin who seemed to be sporting the same marks as kazuha.
oh.
"kazuha?"
alex looked at yunjin, and her face morphed into something akin to one she had seen before at parties like this. the only difference was it was directed at jimin, and jimin never got caught.
the former defensive specialist looked over to jimin's girlfriend, and everything clicked. a sense of familiarity surrounded the room, as if she was relieving last year all over again.
yunjin launched herself at the girl, the former volleyball player holding her back but to no avail.
all she saw was red, and although her arms were held tightly by alex, she still had her feet. yunjin was gonna hurt jimin no matter what it took.
y/n looked over, kazuha joining alex as yunjin kicked the ace in the stomach.
y/n tried to rush over to the other girl, wonyoung hesitant, not wanting y/n to get hurt in the process. before the taller girl could stop her, minjeong grabbed her arm, now bruised from the girl's roughness from earlier.
"is your brain fucking broken?" y/n winced. minjeong's hold was like a vice grip.
wonyoung pushed minjeong back, shoving the girl harder than intended. she looked at y/n's arm, a red hand print wrapped around her wrist.
"are you okay?"
"wonnie," y/n spoke, her voice foreign to her. "jimin-"
"this is your fault!" minjeong yelled, eyes red as she pointed to wonyoung. wonyoung already knew deep down, she didn't need to be reminded. "if it weren't for you, none of this would've happened. everything would've been different."
wonyoung clenched her teeth, trying to shake off minjeong's words, trying to bite back the 'i know's and the 'i'm sorry's.
meanwhile, y/n rushed over to jimin as yunjin gave the ace one last kick to the side, mustering all the power that she could before she was pulled away by the other girl's.
y/n moved her hair from her face, examining jimin's tear-stained cheeks. there was something so angelic about the girl, even if everything jimin had done was akin to the devil himself.
"baby, please." jimin begged, her next words almost like her own proverb. "can you stay?"
y/n looked at wonyoung.
silently, she stood up, yunjin screaming and crying in the background as minjeong fumed silently. below y/n, jimin couldn't help but smirk at the shorter girl.
"wonyoung," y/n whispered. "can we go now?"
("yunjin, you need to calm down!"
"i'm gonna kill her!")
wonyoung? jimin could feel her head throbbing, maybe out of anger, maybe out of pain, but all she wanted to do was stand up and keep y/n here and away from wonyoung.
"if you leave with her, i swear to god." minjeong's voice was angry, and it held a disappointment that y/n had felt many times before.
"unnie..."
"i'm doing this to protect you!" minjeong screamed, her voice starting to get hoarse. "why don't you understand that? what did jimin do to you?"
wonyoung ushered y/n to go, guiding her gently into the hallway and out of minjeong's sight.
behind her, she could hear minjeong's cries, her words reverberating through her skull as she walked with wonyoung behind her, closing the door shut.
"you're leaving with her?" minjeong was muffled through the wooden door. "are you fucking kidding me, y/n?"
y/n wanted to stop, beg minjeong to forgive her just this once, but it part of her wondered if the older girl could even be reasoned with at this state.
the pair made it downstairs, a sea of people watching them in curiosity as y/n rubbed her wrist lightly. gently, wonyoung placed a hand on her midback, smiling down at her.
for a moment, everything was still.
upstairs, jimin sat on the bed, holding her side as she smugged. although ridden with anguish and rage - at herself, minjeong, and wonyoung - the girl couldn't help but laugh at yunjin pathetically struggling to fight her.
it was comedic, and jimin was enjoying the show.
"yunjin. go downstairs." alex shoved her out of the room, her eyes looking over to the ballerina beside her. "kazuha-ssi, please go with her."
looking at jimin as the girl left, alex spoke. "jimin... just, just stay here."
alex looked at the tearful minjeong, muttering curses about wonyoung and jimin under her breath, before going down to follow the two downstairs.
she left the door open, just incase jimin decided to start another fight.
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wonyoung had found yujin in the basement, sitting in front of a room with only a beer bottle to nurse her back to sanity.
yujin wondered how much more she could take of this, but if it involved gaeul, then she would gladly do it for the rest of eternity.
"yujin-unnie." yujin looked up, giving a tired smile to her younger teammate. "can i borrow your keys?"
the older girl nodded, fishing her pocket for the keys to her black bmw i5. she handed it to wonyoung, her arms heavy with exhaustion.
wonyoung could feel her worry start to bubble up inside of her.
glancing up for a moment, she looked back down. "are you okay?"
"huh?" yujin closed her eyes slowly, the alcohol making her sorrow increase tenfold. "yeah, why?"
wonyoung bit her lip, the muffled moans from the room becoming more increasing. "where's gaeul-unnie?"
yujin opened one eye, and that told the middle blocker everything she needed to know.
"yeah..." yujin smile seemed sardonic, as if she was mocking herself for getting into a situation like this.
wonyoung looked at the girl in front of her, then to y/n, then back to yujin.
"do you want to come back with us?"
yujin looked at her for a moment.
"no." the captain shrugged, playing with the rim of her beer bottle. "i'm okay."
yujin wasn't okay, and she didn't know if that was going to end any time soon.
"unnie..."
"i'll be fine." wonyoung didn't believe her, and neither did yujin. "i need to make sure gaeul's safe. i'll see you later?"
wonyoung looked at yujin, sighing.
"okay."
yujin was never going to be okay.
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the car ride to wonyoung's dorm was quiet, only the soft sniffling in the passenger's seat could be heard as the wind blew into the car, back windows rolled down slightly.
wonyoung had dealt with a drunk y/n before, she knew how nauseous the older girl got.
but there were no signs of y/n feeling that way, only the subtle movements of her wiping her cheeks, and the way that the car door seemed to have stray droplets of water on it (wonyoung was sure that yujin wouldn't mind, considering the captain had spilled a gallon of milk in the back at one point).
the two arrived twenty-three minutes later, and wonyoung pulled the car door open for the girl, guiding her to puke in the bushes before they made their way upstairs.
the entire place was empty, even the ra had gone to the uchinaga mansion. it was only them two, just like it was before.
it was an eerie feeling, like deja vu.
wonyoung opened her door, letting y/n sit comfortably before she turned on the ac. it blasted y/n's eyes dry, and any other time, y/n would've hated it. not this time, not when her eyes seemed to flow continously.
she was glad for the pain this time.
the taller girl sat beside her, though far enough to make it seem like a thousand miles away. wonyoung had decided y/n needed the space, to process everything.
y/n wanted anything but.
wonyoung looked at her. she was supposed to feel estatic, that the girl had broken up with yoo jimin, that wonyoung finally had a chance to get back with her. she was supposed to feel triumph.
she watched as y/n wiped her cheeks again, trying to get rid of a stray tear, and all wonyoung could feel was the burden of selfishness.
the taller girl played with her fingers.
"do you want to talk?"
y/n shook her head. "no."
wonyoung looked at her for a moment, noticing that y/n was rubbing the top of her knuckles again. quietly, she went to her desk, grabbing a spare blanket that laid upon her chair.
she wrapped it around y/n's shoulders.
"i'm sad." y/n muttered, feeling wonyoung's arms leave her shoulders.
wonyoung wanted to reach out, but not right now. not when y/n was hurting.
"i know." she said simply, cutting the conversation short.
she couldn't do this. wonyoung could have everything she's ever dreamed of, but not like this. she never wanted it to be like this. she just wanted it simple, she wanted it sweet.
she wanted to love y/n, the way that a person should love another.
y/n looked at her, wonyoung's eyes followed the sway of the curtains, the blinking of the fire alarm, and everything else imaginable. everything but her, just like then.
wonyoung looked everywhere but at her.
"did you ever love me?"
wonyoung looked at her, trying to understand why y/n had asked such a stupid question.
"i did." wonyoung smiled, her heart bursting at the thought of the girl beside her. "i loved you so much that i was scared of hurting you."
y/n went silent, and wonyoung wondered if she had seen right through the volleyball player.
"why did you hurt me then?"
wonyoung faced the girl, her eyes gleaming under the dimly lit room. it was like wonyoung couldn't breathe, like the first time she had messed up at practice, or the last time she had argued with her mom.
her biggest fears had come true.
"i hurt you?"
wonyoung watched as y/n smiled, wrapping herself in the middle blocker's scent. "you hurt me more than jimin had ever hurt me."
oh.
"i'm sorry." wonyoung wanted to hide in her closet back home, where the sounds of screaming and fighting were muffled, and where she'd stay until the light seeped through the cracks of the door. "i didn't know."
y/n shrugged, shivering under the blowing air. it was silent, and wonyoung hated it, the heavy atmosphere making way for all the worries that the co-captain seemed to carry with her.
y/n scanned her ex-girlfriend's features, and came to the realization that the ac wasn't enough to stop her tears this time.
"wonyoung?" y/n loved the feeling of her name on her tongue.
wonyoung hummed, head lost in her own forest of guilt.
"can you kiss me?"
wonyoung's heart leaped from her chest and into her throat, nearly choking the girl. part of her was worried that her delusions were starting to manifest into something more worrisome, but y/n stared at her, and that was enough to know it was real.
"i, i can't." wonyoung shook her head, tears falling down y/n's face. "you're drunk."
she needed wonyoung. "please."
"y/n." but wonyoung didn't know that. "you're drunk."
being drunk meant lowering her guard, and that meant there was a chance of wonyoung finally seeing her, of trying to understand her and how she truly felt.
y/n would always be jang wonyoung's, even if neither knew it.
"i know." y/n whispered, getting closer and closer to wonyoung.
this was exactly what wonyoung wanted, but not like this. she wanted every part of y/n, sober and awake, breathing and smiling.
"you're not gonna remember this." wonyoung murmured back. she could feel the older girl's breath against her face. the soft hints of mint and liquor filled up her senses.
everything was almost the same. everything was almost perfect.
"i know."
y/n deserved everything that wonyoung could offer, and if this was something wonyoung could do for her, she would provide, even if there was a sinking in her chest.
"okay."
y/n closed her eyes, feeling familiarity surround her. the taste of cherry - of memories - clouded her senses, and it was almost as if she could reach wonyoung again, like their story didn't end the way it ended.
familiarity was a disease, and it killed l/n y/n from the inside and out.
wonyoung pulled away upon feeling a dampness that fell upon her cheeks. it wasn't hers. she promised herself that she would never cry in front of y/n again, meaning...
"please don't cry." wonyoung felt heavy, like yujin who sat alone, waiting for a sign of hope. "i'm sorry."
y/n could feel wonyoung wipe her tears away, and a wave of nostalgia - of pain, suffering, happiness, and love - overtook her. she was scared that it felt right, and that she could never have it again.
wonyoung loved her.
"you taste like her." y/n sobbed, piercing wonyoung's heart.
right, wonyoung thought, her mind raced with thoughts of giving her delusions up. she loves jimin, even after everything.
wonyoung bit her tongue.
"jimin?"
she watched as y/n shook her head.
"wonyoung."
oh.
"you taste like wonyoung." y/n wanted to pull her throat out. she wanted to stop crying, to get rid of the lump that suffocated her. "i miss wonyoung."
it echoed in wonyoung, like a speaker at the end of a tournement, or the microphone at an award show, rough and loud, and full of dread.
i miss wonyoung.
"i'm sorry."
y/n cried harder, covering herself with the blanket. she wanted to hide. she wanted to feel safe, to pretend everything was okay until it was. she wanted to be protected from her feelings, to forget.
she wanted jimin.
wonyoung watched the girl, not sure what to do anymore. she stared and stared and stared, frozen, a part of her torn on what to do.
it was her fault. it had always been her fault.
jang wonyoung had always hated herself.
y/n's cries eventually faded into hiccups, her head wrapped nicely under the blanket that smelt like her ex-girlfriend. her eyes were swollen, and her cheeks red.
wonyoung stood up, grabbing a bottle of water and handing it to the girl who yawned loudly.
the taller girl bit back a smile, her heart still fluttering despite her self-hatred.
"i don't know when jiwonnie's coming back, so you can just sleep on my bed." wonyoung said softly, like she was afraid to shatter the girl.
y/n looked at her, pleading, begging.
wonyoung could feel a lump in her throat.
"i don't wanna be alone." y/n said.
"y/n." wonyoung tried to reason. "you're drunk."
y/n wasn't going to remember this, and wonyoung wondered if that would break her or heal her (she knew what the answer was).
"just stay with me." y/n pleaded, her eyes closing as her head fell against the cushions. "just for a little bit."
y/n could pretend everything was fine after this, but she just wanted to let her guard down. just this once, just this fleeting moment.
"okay." wonyoung was selfish, but she would tear herself a new heart if it meant a smile to y/n. "whatever you want."
carefully, wonyoung slid into the bed, listening as the world faded away, y/n cooped up in her arms.
she knew this feeling, where she held y/n close at night, seemingly forever as the two the breathed the same breath, smiled the same smile, and loved the same love.
the soft whispers, planning the future together, and their dark eyes that seemed to find each other's despite the pitch black night. she remembered everything, like a dream, because who remembers a nightmare over something so detrimentally heartbreaking.
heartbreak.
that's what wonyoung was feeling.
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divineei · 1 year
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modern!atwow x musician!reader
modern avatar mlist!
desc. headcanons for modern avatar: the way of water teens with a musician significant other who’s in a band. reader plays a different instrument for each character.
a/n. if this flops i’m retiring. real shit.
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— neteyam. ( guitarist s/o ♪! )
he sleeps with a t-shirt of your band every. goddamn. night.
gives it back to you once a week so you can spray your perfume on it. you ended up bringing him a bottle of ur fave brand and he sprays the cologne on it every time he washes it (aka ever fucking week)
mans hooked. to both you and your music
listens to your band’s songs at least once a day. either w/ headphones or on full blast it doesn’t matter
his whole family knows all the lyrics
sometimes tuk comes to his room and jumps on his bed while playing air guitar and he absolutely joins
other times tho he closes his eyes to focus and pays special attention to the guitar while having your smile in mind
he once spent like 2 weeks watching youtube tutorials to (kinda) learn one song so he could play for you
was it good? no it was fucking hideous. was it the sweetest fucking thing ever tho? absolutely it was
always tries to pick you up after band practice
my boy would rather miss his basketball competitions than miss one of your concerts
this one time he actually tried to skip a match bc your performance was at the same time and the mf showed up backstage like “hEy🙂”
you had to call his mom for him to leave (u snitch that was kinda foul)
definitely knows abt “the rockstar’s girlfriend” aesthetic and makes it his personality. like he’s so into it
you got him a t-shirt that said “im with the band” as a joke but he actually wears it and its hilarious
— kiri. ( keyboard s/o ♪! )
comes to your house just to hear you play
she brings a book and lays down on your bed while you make new music
ADORES watching you come up with new tunes!!!!!!
you always have that focused look on your face as you move your fingers over the keys at makes her want to take a picture (she actually has a few ngl)
always goes back home humming your new melody
you record covers of her favorite songs on your keyboard and give her a cd that she listens to on her discman (she defo owns old gadgets like that)
sometimes puts her phone down on her window stool, where she has her favorite plants, and leaves it there with your music playing. she likes to think it help her plants grow
lowkey gatekeeps your songs
there was this one time you couldn’t sleep bc she kept appearing on your mind, so you connected your headphones and made your “ode to kiri”
it was 2am when you vídeocalled her to play for her what you just wrote
and kiri being the sensitive person she is, swore she could feel your affection through the music, little tears threatening to fall from her pretty eyes
it was truly a treasured memory in your relationship
until a loud ass knock on your door and an equally loud “FFS ITS 2AM!!!!!” almost made you drop dead
she absolutely laughed at you btw
— lo’ak. ( bassist s/o ♪! )
brings you stickers so you can decorate your bass w/ them
“aye babe i got a new sticker for your guitar” “for the hundredth time lo’ak, its a BASS!!!”
yeah he knows it annoys you and no he’s not gonna stop
his lockscreen is a picture of you on stage with a bunch of lil hearts he drew around you
when he goes to your concerts he tells everyone you two are dating
“you see that one over there bro? pfft yeah, we’re together” “do i know you man????” 💀
when you told him your band didnt have a logo yet he showed up at your door 3 days after, super excited and with a bunch of sketches to show you
i also think lo’ak would be really into graffiti art
so he goes around the neighborhood spray painting your band’s logo on the streets walls
“lo’ak you’re gonna get us in trouble” “oh cmon, its good promo!!”
he messes up with your amplifier when you practice, turning up and down the volume, the treble, etc. until you throw your pick right into his fucking forehead and he’s like:
“ma fault 😨”
the moment he (finally) sits still he actually pays really close attention to how your hands move
“damn, you make it look so easy” “im just good with my fingers ig”
cue the dumbest smirk you’ve ever seen
— ao’nung. ( drummer s/o ♪! )
imma just say it; he is popular. by that i mean ma boy has hella contacts
AND by that i mean he makes sure your band always has a venue to perform at. always first on every list fr
“ao’ stay the fuck away from my drums”
actually a fucking menace. tries to impress you by smashing the drumsticks everywhere.
“nah babe check me out i got it this time srsly”
rhythm left the room the moment he sat down
he even attempts some tricks he seen you pull off during your concerts, like throwing the sticks up or rolling them between his fingers.
they always end up either on the floor or hitting his dumbass head. it’s cool tho, u kiss it better (after a well deserved smack bc what did i tell u)
he’d still insist on learning so you two end up having a chick flick moment where you guide him by putting your hands on his
boy actually blushes. just a smidge
“your ears are red” “stfu no they’re not”
might not know shit abt making music but seeing the look on your face when you play is enough to make him see how passionate you are
loves being alone with you in your band’s backstage lounge
he’s so fucking extra he got his friend outside the door like some whack ass bodyguards. they’re so into it too bro
“aye keep walking man🕴️” “move along bitch aint nothing to see here🕴️”
whenever you’re about to go on stage he stays with you in your band’s room and massages your hands
makes sure you always put some baby powder on your palms before you perform in case you start sweating so you dont drop your drumsticks
— tsireya. ( vocalist s/o ♪! )
she sings along to your songs whenever they play
ao’nung is sick and tired of listening to her and uses ear plugs all the time bc he once told her to stfu and got smacked
you two even make your own carpool karaoke and scream the lyrics together on the parking lot
and she NAILS IT!!!!!
like my girl can sing fr
in fact you’ve asked her to help in a few songs for harmonies and second voices
she helps you out a lot with your vocal practice and your breathing exercises
she sits down with you and counts each second with her fingers when hold your breath and when you try your best to hold a specific note
let’s be honest here. A LOT of your songs are abt her
you really don’t have to tell her, she knows they are. bc when you’re up on stage singing abt the perfect girl, you look right at her. and her heart beats faster every time
sometimes you send her your lyrics like “what do u think of this??” and it’d be a full on poem abt her that makes her smile so goofy. kicking feet and everything
every time you get in the shower and start humming/singing her phone is ready
actually has a video of you freaking tf out bc you had an idea for a new song while showering and you stormed your way out the bathroom, wet and hair full off shampoo
“REYA PASS ME A PEN QUICK” “NAH WHY ARE YOU BOOTY NAKED PLEASEHAhH”
you had to mop the floor after that
— rotxo. ( acoustic guitarist s/o ♪! )
makes sure you are never out of strings to change
but since the strings are heavier from an electric guitar, he knows you sometimes hurt your fingers playing
so he bought you a bunch of finger protectors.
he’s a sweetheart, but those whack ass things he got you looked like this
yeaaah…. no. 💀
actually offensive he’d think you need that shit but you let it go bc he really just wanna be there for you
the actual definition of #1 fan
he’s on every concert
and i mean EVERY. CONCERT. front row, backstage, glowing sticks on one hand, phone on the other and zooming on you and only you
he goes to your house more than you go to his, just bc he always wants you to play smthn. and this way you dont gotta bring your guitar back and forth
when you’re together in your room, you get your guitar and he asks you to play some lofi style tunes
especially loves it when it’s summer and the both of you just lay down with the windows wide open and the breeze goes in and out. has a cool glass of your fave drink with a straw and he holds it up to you while you play
one thing ik for sure is rotxo is lowkey good at making beats/bases
the two of you have definitely made a few tracks purely for your enjoyment (like this)
many many many beach dates where you bring your guitar and he lays his head on your lap while the sun sets
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taglist. — @rainbowsocks, @dearstell, @erenjaegerwifee, @neteyamyam, @lvrcpid, @grierpilots, @littlexscarletxwitch, @elegantkidfansoul, @anm3mi, @kachowness, @boilingpots , @lagoonabluebabe, @lethalvenus, @casiia, @liluvtojineteyam, @inluvwithneteyam, @syulangg, @junnniiieee07, @drugs-for-memes, @ilovejakesullysdick, @lovelyygirl8, @neqeyam, @ak-aaa-li, @sakura-onesan, @babyymeme, @gender3nvyy,
© to @divineei on tumblr; do not repost or steal
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graveyard-cuddles · 2 months
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If you attack ascended Astarion at the epilogue party as a mindflayer, all the rest of the companions will join in the attack with you. Which doesn't make a ton of sense from my perspective because frankly, they should all be just as scared of mindflayer Tav as they are of ascended Astarion, if not even more so. Let's just be real and admit that Astarion, as "mean" as he is when he breaks up with mindflayer Tav, is 100% correct. Tav is not Tav anymore. Ilithids don't have souls. They're not a person anymore. And Tav can prove it by attacking him out of the blue at a peaceful-ass gathering. Even Astarion with how cruel and egotistical he becomes when ascended is still more "human" than a mindflayer because he at least retains his soul and personality, as warped as it becomes. That's all besides the point, though.
My main point it I just find it weird how so many so-called Astarion "fans" revile in this scene and find it so funny how Astarion "gets his comeuppance" in this scene or whatever. And I don't know about anyone else, but I find this scene incredibly sad and tragic. Both Astarion and Tav have lost themselves completely (Tav even more so than Astarion, I would argue). And it kinda baffles me how so few fans of Astarion can see how much he's clearly hurting here as well?
He claims he hasn't thought about Tav in the past 6 months, and he delivers the line in a way that is clearly meant to sting as much as possible. People point to that moment as a "gotcha" moment that Astarion genuinely doesn't miss Tav. But he then immediately contradicts this a few sentences later when he says thinks all the time about what could have been if they had stayed his consort and never became a mindflayer. And that all his power is nothing without Tav by his side (paraphrasing).
"OH he's just manipulating Tav" why would he say anything that would make him look weak or vulnerable? If anything, he should be bragging about how GREAT he's doing without Tav. How awesome his life as a vampire lord is without them. And at first he does just that, the first half of the conversation is all bragging. But the longer he talks to them, the more the little hurtful truths slip out behind the hateful words. Like for as much as fans claim to understand that Astarion will often say one thing but mean another some of them sure are shit at being able to tell when he's clearly covering up his hurt with vitriol.
And again there's something weird about cheering on mindflayer Tav when their turn can be considered just as tragic as Astarion ascending. Like don't get me wrong I enjoy letting a monster do their thing. But it's like this weird double standard where mindflayer Tav's monstrosity is good and cool to idolize and joke about them wanting to eat the brains of their friends but the second someone has fantasies about being Astarion's consort they need to be psychoanalyzed.
And it's also ridiculous that if you even so much as suggest that hey, maybe there's more going on with ascended Astarion than meets the eye, maybe he actually is suffering in his isolation, ect. you get called a delusional idiot because people just really want to believe Astarion is truly a 100% different person from his ascended self when that's simply. not. true. Again the writers have confirmed the ritual didn't consume his soul. The ritual amplified all his worst personality traits that he already had.
I'm not saying you need to love ascended Astarion BUT if you love his character for what he is you should be able to at least appreciate him. You should be able to at least find him tragic and compelling. Kinda annoyed that many fans, who are seemingly uncomfortable with being confronted with this side of him, would rather turn him into a big joke or reduce his full spectrum of emotion to just "smug apathy."
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shhh-secret-time · 2 months
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Another request from A03! I am so very sorry this one took so long I actually had to start this one over a few times because I actually lost a big chunk of it when I first started writing it! Nothing takes the wind out of my sails faster.
Warning: NSFW, Dom!Stan, Sub!Reader, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Lovers, Writer doesn't know shit about college or sports ball, Slight Voyeurism, Strong Language, Stan might be a little OOC
Pairing: Stan x Fem!Reader
Notes: Hey uh welcome to this week's episode of, "Writer don't know how to write conflict to save her life!" I'm very bad at coming up with a reason to fight people, it's not in my nature so I'm sorry if it seems forced!
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You hated Stan Marsh
You hated him and most of the football players at your university. Them and their spotlight hogging, annoying, disgusting, sweaty, irritating habits! You and your girls bust your ass off at every practice, sports game, and pep rally South Park University places on your teams’ shoulders, and what do you get for it?
To hear things like, "Oooooh did you see how Cartman played center?" or "Clyde is so hot when he takes his helmet off and has that messy hair!" even, "Kyle plays football AND basketball with perfect grades? Why is he soooo perfect!"
But the one that got under your skin the most was Stanely fucking Marsh, the star quarterback. The man walks around the school with his little crowd of admirers everywhere he went, and for what? Just because he throws a stupid ball around and can run quick? Fuck him.
Your girls put in twice the work they do; you've been to every one of their games. You had to. Your group had to coordinate with the football players, the basketball players, the volleyball team, the hockey team, hell you even had to coordinate with the wrestling team. It was exhausting trying to keep up with it all.
And what did your cheer squad get? Perverted remarks and dismissive attitudes! The final straw was when the Cows mascot got more respect than your group did. You brought your complaints up to the school's councilor, to the headmaster, to anyone who would listen.
Word travels fast around the small town of South Park, people dating and breaking up. Who cheated on who, who's throwing the best parties, who threw up in who's car. Shit like that. Not much changes from high school to college, just a lot less sneaking around and more energy drinks and pain meds. So of course, when your complaints got to the one and only Stan Marsh, he confronted you about it.
"Hey! Hey wait up!" His voice rings out past the busy sounds of other students trying to get to their classes. "You're the captain of the cheer squad, right?" He all but corners you while you're walking with your friends, he doesn't have his little squad of goons following him around.
"Are you serious?" How could he not know who you are?! You've only been to every one of his stupid games! Only been sitting on the sidelines of every practice! "Yes! I am! What do you want?!"
Stan flinched back at the venom in your voice but that didn't stop him from shooting you a look. "Uh...did I do something wrong? I heard from one of the guys that you're not exactly...happy and I was just trying to figure out what we did."
"What you did. What did he do girls? Can anyone answer Mr. Marsh's question~?" The tone in your voice did not match the smile on your face. It sounded chipper but anyone listening could tell it was fake.
Your little group always had your back, most of them felt the same way you did. If anything, it just amplified that anger, knowing your girls were feeling underappreciated. It was your job as the captain to protect your girls, but every time you brought it up to them, they seemed to shy away from saying anything.
"Well, geez Stan, you gotta admit your team's been kinda hoggin' the spotlight. You know what I'm tryin' ta say don't ya?" It wasn't just your girls you had to protect; it was your sweet little angel Butters too. Although you guys called him by his first name when cheering with him, he was Leo to you. And right now, Leo was trying to bridge the gap between you and your rival.
"Veeery good Leo! That's right, Stan and his team don't seem to give a shit how hard we work to cheer his team on! The whole school would rather worship the ground their star quarterback walks on!"
"The school doesn't worship the ground I walk on! You can't pin this on me!" Stan shot back trying to defend himself, it was hard not to feel attacked even though you were the only one glaring at him.
A part of you knew that he was right, it really wasn't his fault that small towns in America went crazy for football.
"W-we're not pinnin' anything on ya! Just sayin' maybe, it wouldn't hurt to tell the guys to show us a little bit more respect! You know Eric's been pickin' on me ever since I joined the girls, sayin' some awfully mean things."
"Leo is right! You may not have a hand in the way people think but that's just the problem, you don't do anything to stop it! If you were really the captain of your little team you'd step up!" You took a step towards him, your face getting inches away from his face.
Ignoring the fact that you had to look up at him, you wouldn't let him leave without getting your point across. His eyes narrowed down at you, matching the energy you were giving out to him. Butters looked between the both of you with a nervous look, he could practically see the electricity bouncing between your eyes. The poor blond didn't mean to start a fight, he was just trying to help.
"If you had a problem with my team, you should have come to me then. Why did I have to find out from other people?" Stan's voice dipped to a low growl which almost made you give one in return.
"I shouldn't have had to go to anyone in the first place Marsh! Get your team under control or else!" You felt your face turn red; it was getting harder to argue with him when those ocean blue eyes were burning into yours.
That was new. Just going to lock that in your vault of things to not think about again.
Thankfully Butters finally stepped in, physically putting his body between the both of you. "C-come on now guys let’s all just calm down. We both said our peace and now we can work it out, right? Next time we practice we can be on the same page!"
"Sure Butters." Stan clicked his tongue as he looked at his friend, but that didn't stop him from getting one last jab in. "You better hope you don't slip up princess, because if you do. I'll be there and I'll be quick to remind you of your shortcomings." And with that he turned on his heel and started walking down the hallways.
"Princess?! Excuse me?!"
"Oh geez..."
Stan slammed his locker with a little more force than he should have, the rusty door screamed out and bounced back open. With an annoyed groan he pushed back on the metal with a little less force, but the damage was already done, the door was now on its last leg and would most likely not shut right. Just more fuel to the fire.
"Whoa dude what did that poor locker do to you? Don't you think it's been through enough." Kenny looked over from his locker with a little smirk.
One of the few times Kenny was without his parka, a towel wrapped around his waist and his bright blond hair clung to his skin. Stan could smell the smell of fresh soap and hints of pine in the air. He sighed in response to Kenny's teasing, clearly not in the mood for his friend's antics.
"Not now man, I don't have the energy." Stan grabbed his jacket and pulled it up onto his torso.
"Ah that's not good, wanna tell your old pal Kenny? I won't even charge ya, come on what's going on."
Stan pressed his lips together and he tried to focus on zipping up the worn-out brown coat he always wore, the zipper struggled to hold together. He cursed under his breath a few times before the thing finally zipped all the way up. For a moment Stan thought about not saying anything, but Kenny was never the type to judge or the type to let things go if he knew something was bothering his friends.
"You know the captain of the cheerleaders?"
"The really hot one?"
"Kenny!" Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, something he picked up from his mother when they were both aggravated, "That's not the point."
"Says you. She's a baddy for real. Take no shit kinda woman~! The feisty ones are the ones that bite the hardest. You got your work cut out for you if you're trying to shoot your shot. I heard she turned down everyone else on the team!"
"Dude! I'm not gonna ask her out!"
"You're not? Then why'd you bring her up? Is this about the fight you guys had in the hall?"
Stan stopped and looked up at him in shock. "You heard about that already?"
"Oh yeah, you guys's are the talk of the school. Everyone thinks you guys had a little lovers spat. I had to hear the whole story from Leo!" Kenny chuckled as he grabbed started getting changed, pulling the patchy orange pants up his legs.
"Even you're calling him Leo now..." Stan muttered but quickly shook his head, "but that's not what I was going to say! I was going to...talk about that but if you already know."
"Yeah, I don't really know what that's all about but Leo kinda spelled it out for me. She's not mad at you per say just mad at the position you're in. A jealousy thing maybe but honestly, I think she's just tired of taking the back seat so to speak."
"What am I supposed to do about that? It's not my fault!" Stan threw his hands up the irritation on face made Kenny laugh again.
"I didn't say it was dude. I'm just telling you what I think, but man, she really got under your skin." Kenny smirks over at him with a playful purr.
"No, she didn't! I don't even care."
"Yep, that totally looks like the face that doesn't care~" Kenny pulled his zipper up and adjusted the collar as he spoke. "Look, let’s pretend for a second you do care. If I were you, I'd just talk to her. Ask her what you can do to make things right, because I'll be honest man, she's the last person you wanna make an enemy of. She'll make your life hell." Kenny finished making his point by wrapping his arm around Stan's neck and pulling him in for a side hug. "Besides, it's not like you have to work close with her, just work around her."
"Yeah..."
But of course, it could never be that simple, could it? Every time Stan tried to catch you to talk to you something got in his way. Monday you were busy with your classes zipping around the hall, Stan could barely get a word in. Tuesday you had to help Butters with his outfit so of course you didn't have time for him. Wednesday was the big pep rally for Friday's game, so that meant Thursday was for practice.
Thursday was hell. Stan was supposed to be focused on getting his team ready for the game. They were practicing dodging other players and passing the ball across the field. Stan was supposed to be working on his throw, he needed the ball to go further than normal. Kyle was getting faster at running and if Stan fell behind their whole strategy would be thrown out the window.
But of course, you couldn't make it easy. It was getting harder and harder to focus on what he needed to do when you were being tossed in the air. The way your dark green and gold skirt caught the sunlight, and the way the puffy looking poms in your hands shook back and forth. Stan knew he was in trouble when he stopped paying attention for a moment when you laughed at something Annie said. Next thing he knew he felt the football knock him on the side of the head. And of course, that's when you looked over, he felt his face heat up when you giggled and covered your mouth.
He hated you. Hated your pretty smile, the way you laughed made his blood boil and his body turn hot. Your stupid lips curled into a gorgeous smile and the way your thighs looked good enough to sink his teeth into, what he'd give to walk over and kiss that smug look off your-
Stan let out a growl that came from deep in his chest as he threw the ball down the field hitting Kyle in the chest. The poor red head just took it, letting out a grunt as it managed to get past the gear meant to keep him safe. He wouldn't let his mind wonder there, not for you. Not when you're the one who attacked him and then started avoiding him every chance you got.
"Marsh!" He winced when he heard Coach Miles below his name, he didn't need to see his face to know he was in trouble.
With a sigh he took his helmet off and ran his fingers through his messy black hair, the helmet causing his hair to stick up. As he walked over, he could feel your eyes on him, and all he could do was scowl. Trying not to think about how you must be eating this up.
Stan's scowl dropped when he heard the coach call your last name and gesture for you to come over. Your eyes widened at the way the coach called for you, you'd never heard him so angry at you before. You gave your poms to Wendy as you ran over, walking behind him as he gestured for you and Stan to follow him.
Coach Miles took you both back inside through the gym, once the three of you were alone, he crossed his arms and glared down at you both. "So, the big game is tomorrow and some of the students have come to be with worries about the way you two were at each other’s throats." He paused for only a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. "Let me make something very clear, we are not in high school anymore. So whatever problem you two have with each other, fix it. You’re adults, act like them."
"I've tried! She doesn't want to work this out!" Stan's mouth moved before he thought about the consequences, but he was just so tired of this whole thing. Even if he agreed with his Coach, this whole situation had him at the end of his rope.
"What?! No, you didn't! You just bitched to Kenny-"
"I didn't bitch! I was asking for advice!" Stan stopped and glared over at you again, it seems like that's the only look he gave you nowadays. "I tried to talk to you in the halls and you blew me off!" How did you even know about he talked to Kenny anyway?!
Fucking Butters.
"I told you what my problem was with you Marsh!"
"No, you didn't! All you did was-"
"Enough!" The Coach's voice boomed over your little squabble and echoed off the gymnasium walls. "I was hoping you two would be mature enough that I didn't have to do this, but I guess I was wrong."
You and Stan watched as Coach Miles stuck his hand in his pocket and fished out a folded-up piece of paper. Unfolding it, he handed it to you and huffed. It was a warning slip, something he never gave out to you or Stan. "So, unless you both figure this out, you're both benched. Off the field and you can watch the rest of the students play without you."
"What?!" Your voices came out in unison, shocked at the very thought of not getting to be a part of tomorrows big game.
"I mean it! Figure yourselves out or you're out! I can have McCormick take your spot Marsh and Testaburger has plenty of experience leading!"
"But Coach-"
"No! I shouldn't have had to do this in the first place! I'm not your dad, I'm not your counselor, I'm a Coach! You both are lucky I'm even giving you a second chance! You have until tomorrow." Every word that came out of Coach Miles's mouth pierced like a sword.
You flinched and pulled back just as Stan did each time, he emphasized his frustration. It was a verbal lashing unlike one you've ever gotten, and you were grateful when he turned and left. You weren't sure if you could take much more.
An uncomfortable silence fell over you and Stan as you both just stood there. The slight buzzing sound of the fans overhead and Stan's deep breaths were all you could hear. Each time he inhaled through his nose he would exhale through his mouth, but it didn't look like it was actually doing anything to calm him.
You've heard when Stan got yelled at by Coach Miles, and not once did he look this angry. Your eyes trailed down his jawline watching as he started grinding his teeth together, the look on his face said it all. He was holding something back, he looked like a lit fuse ready to blow. You didn't know if that anger was at you, the Coach, the situation, or all the above. But a part of you really wanted to find out, and Miles did tell you to work it out.
"So... you wanted to talk. I'm here."
Stan's head snapped over towards you, the look on his face was a mix of anger and bewilderment. Shocked that you would break the silence like that. He felt his stomach churn, a feeling he hasn't felt since he was a kid.
It always felt like he was on a roller-coaster going too fast, that fluttering feeling one would feel when the ride would hit that high and then dropped to that low. Only this time it felt like the pit of his stomach was also on fire, his stomach was a cauldron ready to boil over. As he opened his mouth to speak nothing came out, he just let his mouth hang open for a second and then he shut it again. He was holding back still.
You rolled your eyes and jut your hip out, arms crossing under your chest. "Just say it. I know you want to yell, so yell. I'm a big girl I can take whatever you could possibly throw at me."
When Stan didn't respond but instead walked towards you, your arms dropped, and you took a step back. So caught up in the dark blues of his eye you barely registered when your back hit the wall, it wasn't until you realized he had you backed into a corner that you grasped the situation you were in. He slammed his arm over your head making your heart leap in your chest, and your hands come up in defensively.
You weren't scared that he was going to hurt you, you never got that from Stan, he never seemed like that type. But the way he looked down at you made your heart speed up and a shiver run down your spine. Never had you felt like a rabbit trapped in a pen with a wolf. Something about that excited you.
"What are you doing-"
"Shut.up." Stan's voice dips an octave as he whispers out the command.
The gravel in his voice is cut by the way he slams his lips down onto yours. You have just enough time to push back into the kiss when he pulls away and continues. "You...have made my life.... fucking hell...this entire week!" His complaints almost falls on deaf ears from the way he's kissing you in between them. "I don't know why I get so.... worked up with you!" He emphasizes the last part by grabbing your jaw and forcing your face up towards him.
It's only been a week and you've already got him wrapped around your finger, so tightly wound up that he was beginning to snap. And maybe you were wrapped around his, the smirk on your face was short lived when he bit your bottom lip. A small gasp escaping your lips giving him enough of an opening to slip his tongue in your mouth. You moan against his lips and grip the front of his jersey by the collar. If he wanted to get handsy you could get handsy. You pulled him down into the kiss somehow deepening it further.
Your tongues push back and forth against each other, neither giving way to the other. His tongue was relentless but so was yours. It wasn't until you felt a bit of drool dripping down the side of your mouth did it click. You were making out with, what you thought, was the biggest asshole on campus. Yet you couldn't pull away, couldn't pull away from his hold on you.
On the other side of things, Stan's mind was going blank. With every twist of your tongue and lips he felt himself getting addicted. Hungry lips moving from yours to devour the soft flesh of your neck. He bites down with enough force to pull a cry from you and to leave a mark. Right where your shoulder meets your neck, teeth marks bright and red poked out of your cheerleading uniform.
"You fucking ass! That's going to leave a mark!" You hiss at him, but it just turns to another moan as he sucks on the patch of skin near your collarbone.
"Good!" He growls back coming off your skin with a pop. "I have tried all week to work with you! All fucking week to work with your bitchy attitude!"
"My attitude?! Fuck you! I was trying-"
"You'd like that wouldn't you?" He cuts you off with a smirk, one that would give the devil a run for his money.
"What?!" You white knuckle his jersey with both hands now.
"You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid." His hands reach down to the back of your thighs, cupping them as he lifts you up and slams you back into the wall. Not enough to hurt but enough to remind you of the predicament you're in.
"Says the man who had his tongue down my throat!" Predicament be damned. He would not win this fight just because he slots himself between your legs and pushes his arousal against your thigh.
Those football pants left nothing for the imagination, the thought of leaving him with that hard on in those pants crossed your mind for a moment. But when he rolled his hips against your clothed sex you had to focus on biting back the moan instead.
"It shut you up, didn't it? You didn't seem to want me to stop when you were moaning against me."
You glared down at him and ran your fingers through his hair, giving the roots a firm tug; you smirked when he moaned. His face turned red making him lunge forward and bite your neck again. Your nails dug into his scalp which only seemed to encourage him to leave marks.
"Just shut the fuck up and...and fuck me already!" You tried to keep the moan out of your voice, but when he found that soft spot on your neck it just turned into a whimper.
That smug bastard lips turned up into a smirk, he pulls back just long enough to take a look around the gym. All he could hear was you panting heavily trying to catch your breath and the same dull fan buzzing. He looked down at you for a moment and for a second you thought he'd pull away. That he'd come to his senses and realize that maybe this wasn't exactly what the Coach meant.
But he didn't. Instead, he pulls your face back up for another kiss, this one was a lot less angry. There was still that heat behind each press of his lips, but it was more controlled, not like when he was trying to get you to stop talking. He presses his forehead against yours for a moment, the sweat from practice earlier dripping down his neck, it would almost be sweet if the situation leading up to it didn't happen.
"We have to be quick."
"Here?! Are you out of your mind, what if we get caught!?"
"Would you just let me-" You feel him move you to his forearm, where he pins you between the wall and his body. "You've got me so worked up! I don't know why I find your endless complaining and bitching so hot!" The confession spilled out of his mouth once again without a second thought as his hands move up your skirt.
His hands grope and squeeze at your thighs and then your ass pulling another sweet moan from your lips. "Don't act like you're free from it! You like to think you're sooooo much better than me but you're just like me!"
"I know!" He grunts as he pushes your underwear to the side making you shiver when the cold air hits your cunt.
Stan watches as your eyes flutter shut when he slams his fingers into your wet hole, his fingers coated with your sweet juices. He licks his lips when your mouth hangs open and a shaky gasp is pulled from you. "Look at you already so fucking wet for me. I thought you hated me huh?"
"Sh... shit. I-I do hate you!" Your weak attempt to bite back fall short when he curls his finger in you, slamming his fingers in and out of you.
His lips ghost over yours as he buries himself to the knuckle in your pretty cunt. He watches as you suck his fingers in further and further. The sounds you're making makes his cock throb in his pants, straining against the white material. "Yeah? Doesn't feel like you hate me. You were ordering me to fuck you earlier."
"I-I... oh fuck! Harder!"
Stan smirks down at you and there's no comment this time. How can he when you look so damn sweet, nails digging into his shoulders clinging to him for dear life. He stops his fingers and glares down at you. "Say please."
"B-bite me."
He does. He leans down and bites down on the tip of your ear, his husky voice laced with danger. "I'm not moving my fingers from your cunt until I get a please."
"G-God damn it Stan j-just.... ugh please! Please go harder!"
For a moment he looks up like he's thinking about it, pondering whether he should or not. You could have smacked that smug look off his face but when his fingers drill deeper into you all you can do is throw your head back. As if it wasn't enough, he finds that perfect spot, making you clench around his digits.
"Fuck you look so good when you're like this. You gonna cum around my fingers princess? Go ahead, let me feel you clench around them." He talks you through your orgasm with a steady tone, making you lull your head to the side as you reach your climax.
His fingers stay buried in you for a bit before he pulls them out, you almost whimper at the loss of them. But it was cut short when he wrapped his lips around his fingers. Sucking the slick off his digit while keeping eye contact with you. The telltale sign of a blush crept up your neck and across your face when he removed his index finger from his mouth.
"You're so gross..."
"Whatever." He clicked his tongue at your comment, even after he pulled an orgasm out of you; you still had something to say. His hands move across your ass again giving the flesh a firm squeeze. You slapped his shoulder when he chuckled at your little squeak. "Hmm~ I liked you begging. Let’s see if I can't get more of that out of you."
He moves his hands down to his pants and slips them down to his thighs. He fumbles for a moment with his boxers before he just decides to give up and pull his cock through the flap. He did say this needed to be quick and he already wasted time fingering you against the gym wall. Not that he regretted it, he had half a mind to do it again, but if the precum leaking out of the slit of his cock was anything to go by he need release soon.
Stan glides his cock against your folds a few times, coating his cock in your arousal, his breath hitches when you roll your hips back. When his eyes meet yours again his knees almost buckle under the weight of your lustful gaze. The way your eyelids lower and your mouth falls open again with each drag of his cock. He takes the base of his member and slaps it against your cunt a few times. "Come on princess, tell me you want this. Tell me you don't really hate me."
"I...." You trail off, letting your stubborn attitude take over but Stan isn't making it easy. Each passing second you don't answer him he nudges the tip of his cock in your entrance, not quite pushing in to give you that pleasure. "I hate that I like it that you call me that! I hate the way my heart speeds up when you kiss me! I hate that I like you!" Your words roll off your tongue like a confession, the way you throw your head back the frustration growing in your tone.
Stan growls again, that sound being pulled out of him more times today than his entire life, but he can't resist you. It's like he's a puppet and you're holding all the strings. His hands come up to your hips and guide you down the length of his cock just as your legs wrap around his waist. The muscles in your legs keep him in place making his cock throb again, you feel it bob against your walls.
"You have...no fucking idea...how much I've wanted this! Every time you got thrown in the air-" He lets out a shaky moan as he pulls you off his cock and slides you right back down. "Every... every time you giggled and flashed that perfect smile." Stan nuzzled into the crook of your neck while his hips begin to find the perfect rhythm. "Everything about you is perfect and I fucking hate it!"
Stan's little burst of irritation comes out from the way he begins picking up speed. You cling onto him as he continues piercing up into you, your arms wrapping around his neck to try as your back slides up and down against the wall. "Oh god Stan!"
"Listen to yourself. Calling my name like that, you drive me crazy! I'm not going to be able to stop. You gonna let me cum in you? I don't wanna stain that pretty uniform of yours." The way he's moaning out your name in between breaths makes your stomach do flips.
You can't find the strength to answer so you settle for nodding and moaning his name. He doesn't say anything else besides the occasional cursing and small grunts, so focused on bullying your insides. You feel the coil in your stomach tighten and tighten until the knot starts to snap. Your walls grip his cock as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, your voice has gone hoarse from moaning and screaming his name. He feels his cock twitch when he sees you climax around him, it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. The way your mouth hangs open, lips slightly swollen from how hard you kissed him. The way your hair was out of place and the way your uniform was messed up from how hard he was thrusting into you.
"Fuck...I'm...I'm cumming." He groaned as he emptied himself inside you. Thick hot arousal shooting up and painting your insides, it made you whimper and squirm.
There was another moment of silence that fell over you two, it wasn't the heavy awkward one the Coach had left you in. It was almost comfortable by the way Stan was pressing soft kisses into your neck, his lips moving up to your jawline and to the corner of your mouth. You ran your fingers through his hair again trying to smooth it out instead of tugging.
"So....this certainly was one way to work out our problems..."
Stan hummed in response as he slowly pulled you off him, you couldn't help but gasp at the feeling of loss again. As he pulls his pants and boxers up, he takes out the small towel he has tucked away in the pockets of his pants, and gently begins to clean your thighs. The action makes you smile a little, how one minute he could go from destroying you against a wall to treating you like some doll. When he sets you down his hands linger on your hips a little longer like he's trying to make sure you're alright enough to stand.
"Yeah...hey, I'm sorry. I'm not...good at confrontation and I shouldn't have got defense with you." His apology almost makes your heart break but at the same time it feels so warm.
"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken my jealousy out on you. You didn't deserve that, it's not your fault." You fiddle with the material of his jersey, rolling it between your fingertips.
"Jealous? Why would you be jealous?" Stan asks completely dumbfounded by the idea.
"Because everyone always talks about you and your team! It's always how great you are, and everyone seems to like you!"
"Really? Because I always hear about how amazing you guys are. Every game the guys always feel better knowing that even if we lose you guys were cheering for us. I can't tell you how happy Butter's has been since you let him join the squad." He chuckles and goes to move a lock of your hair behind your ear.
"Awh...that's so sweet." You look up at him with a little giggle and a smile, which he returns. "Now I feel all bad."
"Nah don't feel bad...I'm just glad we got this straightened out. I know it's a little backwards but...do you think I could take you out after the game tomorrow? Win or lose I just...kinda wanna spend more time with you." He gives you a sheepish smile and a small blush creeps across his face.
"Only if you don't mind me bitching." You joke back with a little hum, pushing yourself up against him.
"It'll go great with mine." He smirks back down at you and places a kiss on your lips.
Word travels fast around campus. When you both walked out of the gym smiling at each other neither teams could believe it. Even more so when next week you were walking around with Stan's jacket over your shoulders and your pinky wrapped around his. The star quarterback's last name written in big blocky letters on your back and your lipstick staining his cheek. Definitely not a normal way to start a relationship, but that was you and Stan's little secret.
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eternalsa2z · 9 months
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Alphabet Piercings
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"Ambrose! What is that in your nose?!?!?"
*CONFUSED* "Uh, like, a super cute nose ring?"
"Well duh! Did you take it from my special jewelry drawer?"
*EXCITED* "Yeah! I, like, looooved the cute little L-shaped earrings so, like, I decided to find something to, like, compliment it!"
*SIGH* "Goddess this is what I get for sharing the 'Ladylike' piercing cuz I wanted a more feminine boyfriend to shop with. Ambrose, do you remember which Alphabet Piercing you took?"
"Ummmm...I think it was D?" *GIGGLE* "Yeah cuz I like D!"
"Great, definitely a 'Ditz' piercing then based on your bubbliness. But that doesn't explain the extra horniness and the over-the-top glam look..."
"Hey baby if you like my nose ring, like, do you wanna see my other pretty piercings? I got these totes hawt little Os in my nipples that made me all, like, hawt and stylish."
*GASP* "Oh shit those could be Orange or Opulent piercings for this tanned fashionista look! Ambrose...please tell me you're not covering up more?"
*WRINKLES NOSE* "Please, like, Ambrose is so uuuugh. Call me Amber!"
"Okay, fine, Amber...did you do anything else?"
"Welllll I kinda got scared cuz, like, my little sexy bits were shrinking. So I acted fast and, like, put another L right into my clitty to, like, stop in from shrinking! It's, like, suuuuuuper small now and it makes me feel all hot and mushy, but it's still there! Yay!"
*GROAN* "Great. You put the 'Lust' piercing straight into your groin. That's gonna exacerbate the effects to an 11. But at least that explains everything. With those Alphabet Piercings all in, they combine and amplify to make you what they spell out. In this case, a bimbo DOLL"
*SQUEAL* "Oh yes! That's the word I was, like, looking for! Amber is, like, totes a doll! You, like, wanna go shopping with your dressup doll?"
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honeybeebytheseaa · 2 months
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My Grandkid HC’s
ISABELA
Lesbian. I’m sorry I just can’t see her being into guys it just doesn’t work in my brain.
Also trans of the gender (mtf)
Since she’s dropped her perfect persona, Isabela has been pulling pranks, ESPECIALLY on known little shit head Camilo. He doesn’t know whether to be proud or extremely annoyed.
Can’t cook or bake she’ll set the kitchen aflame
Always walks barefoot on the grass
Has names for most of her plants, especially the cacti
Doesn’t really involve herself in farmers work unless there is an emergency.
Developed a skill for gardening without her gift, and continues to do so even once she’s gotten it back. There’s something special about watching plants grow over time.
She still makes bouquets for events, but they’ve lost their conservative look for something more ‘Isabela’
Unlike most of her family she doesn’t mind bugs (unless they are in her room)
Very high pain tolerance. Likely due to smiling all day and cacti thorns.
She still likes pastel colors but they aren’t high on her list of favorite colors, so she opts for darker colors when choosing cloths.
She used to bite people as a kid
Has conflicting feelings on animals because on one hand yeah they are cute on the other she has to shoo them away from eating her plants every other week
Has a large man eating plant named ‘Rosita’
Sometimes she’ll take whatever is in Mirabel’s hand, put it on a high shelf she cannot reach, and walk away.
Can actually be scarier then Luisa believe it or not
SNORES SO LOUDLY the only person who can handle it is her gf
Not big on physical affection and often uses gift giving as her way of showing love (platonically and romantically)
DOLORES
Incredible musician who could basically play any instrument you hand her
She sings lullabies to the younger family members
Personally I imagine her as the only straight grandkid but obvi she is supportive of lgbtq+ since half her family is apart of it
She wouldn’t come out of her room when she first got her gift, but her parents and a very supportive Isabela eventually coaxed her out
She has headphones painted red and gold by Mirabel
autism (vine boom sound effect)
As much as she loves Isabela and appreciates all of Luisa’s hardwork; out of her cousins her and Mira get along the best.
Speaking of that Isabela and Dolores’s relationship, much like Camilo and Mirabel’s, soured as the pressure to uphold the family name increased. Before the magic disappeared they basically ignored each other, but began to reconcile during the rebuild and became close again.
Her room is sound proof (I know people say otherwise idc she needs a BREAK) but during the night she’ll sometimes open her window since it’s much quieter
I do believe she has SOME control over her gift, and in order to hear very far she has to hold a hand against her ear. When she isn’t, things are amplified but not unbearable. She’s kinda just gotten used to it.
Dolores love language is, unsurprisingly, words of affirmation.
If she gets stressed and doesn’t have access to her headphones, she’ll listen for the nearest family members voice (Ex: her fathers laugh, her mothers ranting, Camilo’s jokes, Antonio communicating with his animals)
Gets in on Isabela’s pranks now and again. She is mostly polite but has a devious side, especially with her cousins and siblings.
LUISA
I still adhere to the concept Luisa has some sort of ‘calm’ room. Wether it be an amusement park or a sauna she deserves to have somewhere to destress
Has a pile of stuffed animals, each with different names
She actually does enjoy doing chores and being active, but struggles to find a stopping point and not overwork herself
She’s more then just brawn, and was always a sharp academic when she was in school
Women enjoyer women enjoyer
VERY physically affectionate she’s giving everyone hugs and crushing their bones
Her and Camilo get along very well after Casita’s rebuild. She likes his energy and ability to let loose, and Camilo respects all the work she does around the Encanto. They mesh well.
When she first got her gift she accidentally broke her dads hand
Her father used to teach her piano, though she sorta fell out of it the older she got. Since casita’s rebuild she’s picked it back up as a hobby.
A big animal person, second to Antonio. She likes patting the donkeys on the head if she gets the chance
Has a hard time sitting down to eat because she’s always getting ready to move
If you give her anything she’ll begin sobbing and thanking you (birthdays and Christmas are rough)
She puts the younger kids if air jail if she has to
She originally struggled to control her gift, and that made her scared to touch anyone in fear she’d hurt them. But Pepa helped Luisa find ways to control the strength as she had to learn with her weather
After she lost her gift she kept trying to move the church as a force of habit
Reads a lot of fantasy novels
Helps Antonio wrangle his animals
CAMILO
(This will be more brief as I have a whole post of HC’s for this mf)
Gay and trans can’t change my mind
Despite always being hungry he cannot stomach fish. Some other seafoods are fine but the smell of fish makes him ill.
Won’t say this out loud: he is kinda legitimately afraid of Isabela ever since he’s become the target of her pranks. No one knows true fear until you realize you are caught in a Isabela prank.
Camilo’s love language is a lot of things, but quality time is high up on his list as he likes living in the moment.
Is a very good artist but gets embarrassed when people try to look at his work
Despite being a stick he is surprisingly strong.
Him and Mirabel used to be close but sort lost that connection the older they got, and even began to fight and butt heads. I like to think they do eventually become close, but it takes a lot of conversation and time.
adhd and autism (vine boom sound effect)
used to bite people as a kid
He likes reading plays and will space out for hours thinking how something translates on a stage
Sometimes he stands in front of a mirror and goes ‘why why why why why why why w
MIRABEL
The silly!!!
Like Isabela: gift giving is her way of showing affection. She loves hand crafting gifts.
This is depressing but when she didn’t get her gift she drew a door on her wall hoping the magic would make it real
Once no one would wake up so she poured water on Camilo’s head and he screamed so loud it woke everyone else up
Mirabel looks extremely innocent but will literally try to stab anyone who bothers her with her sewing needle
She used to write simple picture books for Antonio when they roomed together
She DEF got her own room during the rebuild. Like imagine saving the miracle and your family is just like “anyway go back to the baby room lol” they wouldn’t do that to her
Bisexual icon love to see it
Has zero rizz I’m sorry queen but like she’s a girl failure by heart
Is a bit of old woman and can’t stay up too late without getting tired but in turn wakes up extremely early.
Not the best academic but obviously still very smart.
She’s an empath so if you begin crying she’ll start crying too she can’t help it
Is blinder than a bat if you take her glasses away she cannot see SHIT
ANTONIO
Don’t have too much on him since he is still a baby but I have a few!
His favorite animal is the jaguar! Hence the plushie and his closeness to Parce
He likes matching animals to people, and even has a few animals named after his family.
Animals often tend to just kinda… follow him. If he goes for a walk he might came back with some new friends.
I do think he’s a vegetarian. Maybe not a vegan but eating meat is not easy for him.
He doesn’t always go to his parents if he has nightmares, and will rotate between Dolores, Mirabel, and Camilo.
Kicks in his sleep
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