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totheblood · 7 months

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I WISH I NEVER MET YOU.

pairing: ex!ellie williams x reader

warnings: SUGGESTIVE mdni 18+... not sm*t but close... cursing, drinking, bitchy ellie

a/n: i love this song and was like wait... i need to write a fic based off of this song so i did that and i just love mean and spiteful ellie like... i apologize.. ai audios in the fic <3 reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses

wc: 2.3k

"tryna forget the seven minutes we had in heaven."

The world was spinning.

Or that was what it felt like. The tequila you had downed earlier was now starting to mix with the joint you shared with Dina earlier on her front step. She had held the nearly finished stub in between her fingers and had her other hand tracing circles on the fleshy part of your thigh. It was all innocent as you laughed about the new job she had started and her weird coworker who had asked her out a few times. It was all innocent until she mentioned Ellie and how she said she was going to stop by later that night.

It wasn’t a party, but it wasn’t not a party. A few of your friends had gathered at Dina and Cora’s new place, a housewarming party done their way. Inside a few friends had gathered around a table playing some card game and taking shots, but you needed some fresh air and Dina had followed you. From out here you could hear the faint music coming from inside, and the streetlights made Dina’s skin look golden, but it was still early and you were already fairly drunk.

“She said she’s coming?” you confirmed, needing to double-check that Ellie agreed to be in the same room as you.

“Yeah,” Dina coughed, taking a deep hit of the joint, the end glowing yellow and orange, “Said she feels bad about not coming around anymore.”

“Right,” you scoffed, grabbing the joint from her and taking a deep hit, closing your eyes as you blew out the smoke.

“Can you not do that tonight?” Dina set her face up in a pout, eyes dramatically wide, “She’s finally getting over whatever this was and I just want us to be normal again.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you rolled your eyes, sitting up straighter, “I tried to talk to her but she didn’t want to. Not my fault.”

“But isn’t it?” Dina started. She knew she was crossing a boundary she shouldn’t, but she was also tipsy and exhausted from the standoff you and Ellie had.

She wasn’t wrong, it was technically your fault. Months ago you were at a party gathering just like this, twice as drunk as you were right now. Some idiot, probably Cora, had suggested playing 7 minutes in heaven, just like you all had done in high school. No one in the room was sober, therefore everyone agreed.

A circle was formed in the living room, everyone sitting with their legs criss-crossed on the floor, giggling and blushing like 10th graders. One couple had decided to sit it out and watch the game from the couch. Two seats to your left sat Ellie, hair pulled back into a loose bun and her face already a bright red. She never was your closest friend, but she was still someone you talked to often. You’d occasionally Facetime, send each other TikToks, and sit next to each other if the group went out for dinner. But you were not her best friend, and she definitely wasn’t yours.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t think about her often. She had this girlish charm that usually translated as awkwardness and she would always make jokes under her breath, just loud enough for only you to hear them. You didn’t notice how red she got whenever she made you laugh like she had just won the world’s biggest prize. But besides that, she was cute. Really cute, and perpetually single. The group would often make jokes asking why she never dated anyone, and she would just make some comment about how she was waiting for the ‘right one’. Her eyes would always flicker over to you when she said that.

But this night, when she spun the bottle and it landed on you she nearly choked. You looked up at her with your doe eyes, those fucking eyes, she thought, and she nearly lost it. Everyone was laughing, clapping, and hollering at the idea of the two of you being locked in a dim closet for 7 minutes.

“We don’t have to…” She started, preparing herself for rejection, “if you’re not comfortable.”

“Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?”

Click.

The door locked the two of you inside the tiny room. This close to you she could smell you. She could smell the liquor coming off of you in waves mixing with vanilla perfume. There was just enough light for her to make out your features, the tip of your nose, and the crease in between your eyebrows. From this close, she could see everything.

“So…” her voice faltered, nervousness seeping into her tone, “what do we do?”

“I think you’re supposed to kiss me,” you whispered back, your voice immediately sending a flood to her pants.

“Do you want me to?” She whispered back, eyes searching your face and landing on your lips. You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth, before nodding. Fuck. She took a shaky breath, her calloused fingers grazing the open skin of your waist. Her fingers were cold but your body ran hot, you were unsure if it was the alcohol or her having this effect on you. Her fingertips curled inwards, pulling you closer to her.

You were now chest to chest, both of you heavy breathing despite not having kissed yet. You were so close that she could feel your heartbeat and your tits. She gripped you a little bit harder causing you to groan. It was all so painfully slow, each movement dragged out. She dipped her head down, her lips now just hovering over yours making your eyelids flutter closed. You could feel her smile before she kissed you, as slow and languid as her movements were before.

Her lips were soft, tongue peeking through and grazing your teeth, urging them open. She was kissing your like her life depended on it. Your hands gripped at her neck, trying to pull her closer but she stumbled forward pushing you into the shelf.

“Fuck,” she breathed in between a wet kiss, “you okay?”

“Mhm,” You hummed. Her hand moved down now, ghosting your ass before giving it a light squeeze and lifting your thigh up so she could get even closer. If it kept going like this she was going to be inside of you within minutes. She pushed closer, her clothed cunt griding up against yours, causing you to gasp.

“Feel good?” She teased, now moving to kiss up your jaw when-

Click.

The two of you separated, hands smoothing out your clothes as the door opened. It was obvious what had happened, a little bruise had formed on your jaw where she had kissed, and she was now wearing lipstick she didn’t come to the party wearing.

That night you went home with her.

You shuddered thinking of that night, not knowing it was the beginning of the end. Whatever relationship you had with her was now ruined, and it was your fault. You spent nights crying over how much of your fault it was, but that wouldn’t change anything. You ended things, and Ellie wanted nothing to do with you now.

“I guess,” you shrugged, “but people break up every day Dina. People move on.”

It was Dina’s turn to scoff as she snatched the tiny joint back from you, “You don’t move on that easily when you’re in love with someone.”

“She was not in love with me,” you rolled your eyes again, your high making you feel anger more than anything now.

“Oh, so you’re just fucking stupid,” Dina deadpanned, taking another hit, giggling as you shoved her playfully.

“Oh, fuck you,” you laughed, trying to keep your real emotions at bay.

“Can’t,” she laughed, blowing smoke out her nose, “Ellie would probably murder me.”

The conversation wasn’t productive, but you didn’t want to be on the front step when Ellie arrived. You feared that if she saw you, she probably wouldn’t even come to the door, let alone inside. You honestly missed her, and you were beginning to forget what she even sounded like.

Thirty minutes had passed and you started nursing your third drink, playing beer pong in the backyard when you noticed a familiar sound. Her laugh, over everything, was the only thing you heard.

“Oh, um I have to use the bathroom,” you excused yourself running up the stairs and straight into the kitchen where Ellie was now alone, getting a drink from the fridge. She obviously didn’t see you come in, or thought you were Dina because she was speaking.

“You only bought Truly’s,” she scoffed from the fridge, “fucking lame.”

“Still better than a Four Loko,” you joked. You watched her pause, her whole body stiffening before standing up straight and closing the door. She stared at the refrigerator so she didn’t have to look at you. You watched her chest rise and fall as she took deep breaths.

“What do you want?” Her tone was much colder now, her voice icy and mean.

“Just wanted to say hi,” your voice was small, you hated yourself for it.

“Well, don’t,” she shook her head, turning to the counter now, the hard liquor lined up in front of her. She picked up vodka, bad choice.

“Can we just-” you stepped next to her, voice in a whisper loud enough she could hear. She tensed up as you stood close to her and you hated the position you were in.

“No, we can’t,” She shook her head, pulling a red solo cup from its place on the counter and pouring the vodka in the cup, “I told you I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“But-”

“No fucking ‘buts’. You don’t get everything you want, okay?” She looked at you now, her green eyes now accompanied by dark circles. Her freckles were more prominent with summer finally coming to an end. She looked tired, but still beautiful, “You’re so fucking selfish.”

“I’m selfish because I couldn’t date you?” You laughed bitterly, that third drink hitting you like a bag of bricks, “That’s real rich considering you’re the one who’s been an asshole to me because you can’t fuck me anymore.”

She looked pissed. Her hands gripped the sides of the counter as she looked down at it, trying to stop herself from doing what she wanted to. Instead, she downed the vodka, not even flinching.

“No one wants to fuck you,” she looked at you, eyes glossed over, “and you’re the one who dumped me over text like a fucking coward.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m an asshole to you because I want to make it perfectly clear I want nothing to do with you. I don’t want to fuck you, I don’t want to see you, and I definitely don’t want to hear any sob story about how you ‘couldn’t’ do it. You’re a pathetic loser who broke up with me over text on our 6 month anniversary.”

“Ellie,” a voice from behind you caused you both to turn around. You wiped at the tears rolling down your face, “What the fuck?”

It was Dina, standing with her arms crossed as she watched you two in disappointment. You ran off pushing past her and into the bathroom, crying pathetically on the toilet and blowing your nose in the toilet paper. Back in the kitchen Dina had approached Ellie, an eyebrow raised as if she was waiting for an answer.

“She just,” Ellie poured another cup, “she gets under my fucking skin, okay?”

“But talking to her like that?” She shook her head in shame, “What’s gotten into you?”

“She has!” Ellie replied, “That shit fucking hurt, okay? And I let her get away with it at first because I loved her but all she thinks is that I’m mad because I can’t fuck her. I’m over it.”

“She’s just saying that,” Dina’s voice was now more tender as she talked to Ellie, “she misses you and doesn’t know how to deal with it.”

“She doesn’t fucking miss me,” Ellie downed the second cup.

“You just tell yourself that because you wouldn’t know how to feel if it was true.”

“If she missed me she wouldn’t have done that,” Ellie sighed.

“Not everything is black and white,” Dina sighed looking to the side. “Just try to get over it before the trip. It’s a really big deal to Cora and I don’t want it to be a mess because you both are so miserable.”

“I don’t think I can come, D,” Ellie shook her head, fingers tapping on the counter, “Not like this, not with her.”

“Ellie, please don’t do this,” Dina held her shoulders, her eyes wide and sad. Ellie had a soft spot for Dina, which was the only reason she came to the housewarming party, but she was unsure of how much she would take before she snapped.

“Fine,” she sighed, “but I’ll be driving by myself. I’m not sitting in a two-hour-long car ride with her.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Dina squeezed Ellie tight, making her groan and attempt to push her off.

---

The trip came sooner than expected, the party being nearly a month ago. You drove down with Dina and Cora, singing Lana songs the whole drive. The Hamptons were quiet around this time and Cora (and her rich family) owned a vacation house out there on the water. You spent nearly every summer here, you, Dina, Cora, Ellie, Jesse, Faye, and Cora’s twin brother, Orion all crammed into their giant house. Except this time was different. This was the trip that Dina and Cora were going to announce their engagement.

No one knew yet, and Dina had wanted your little group of friends to be the first to know. A special intimate moment between the group and the place it had started. However, when you pulled up to the house, driving up the long driveway, you saw Ellie’s jeep parked out front with her and some girl leaning against the side of the car.

You all hopped out, but you stood to the side as you watched Dina and Cora hug Ellie and this new girl.

“Hey guys, I hope you don’t mind,” Ellie spoke, eyes drifting to yours for a moment before she smirked, “this is my girlfriend, June.”

Fuck.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

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luv4kozume · 2 months

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🎯 𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐎 — MATT STURNIOLO

— # ❝ 𝐈'𝐦𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐨 ! ❞ 🎧 ₊˚⊹

Cowboy!Matt x Cowgirl!Black!Fem!Reader

Contains: Swearing, lowkey fuckboy!matt, mentions of alcohol, pet names (baby), oral m!receiving, cum eating, fingering, praise, teasing, riding, rebound sex, public(ish) sex, drunk sex, unprotected sex, creampie. Proof read!

Synopsis: A story in which you forget all about your ex after meeting Matt at a costume party.

Word Count: 3,916

💋 — Requested: “can you do a matt smut with a black reader where he sees her at a party and they fuck🙏”

a/n: SAVE A HORSE…. RIDE A WHAT?!?! Also I’m not the fanfic police, you can read no matter what you are, I keep my writing pretty general. Just followed the prompt for the request!! ENJOY BABIES!! 💋💋

Other song mentioned: Killin’ You Hoes by Trina 🤭

*:･ﾟ✧ 💌 *:･ﾟ✧

OCTOBER 31, 2024 ₊˚⊹

“YOU SEE THE OUTFIT, BITCH?” Your friend screamed at the top of her lungs as her acrylics wrapped around the steering wheel, whipping the vehicle around the corner. Nearly scraping her rims against the curb in the process, as she sped down the neighborhood to the tempo of Trina’s song. “CUTE FACE AND ASS SWOLL!”

Your palm flattened against your stomach, your face twisting up in discomfort as you peered out the car window. Your stomach churned with anxiety, but not from your friend’s reckless driving. You had grown accustomed to that.

No, it was something else entirely.

“Girl, what’s the matter? You’re not even finishing the lyrics.” She asks, her tone still high as she turned down the music.

The glitter from her cat-like makeup shimmered against her toned cheeks, the amber streetlights carving out her soft features.

“Nothing.” You lie, turning around to face her. She gave you a side eye before bringing her attention back to the road.

“You’re not still hung up over that bum ass dude, right?” She scoffed in a half joking tone.

You hesitated before answering her question. Had you made it that obvious?

Yes, it may have been true that the only reason why you were all dressed up and going out to this party tonight was because she practically dragged you out of bed.

Your now, ex-boyfriend, dumped you without any sort of warning not to long ago and you hadn’t been the same since. It was a struggle being productive everyday, let alone being social with others.

Your original plans for Halloween were to stay inside and pass out candy to the little kids that came to visit. But your friend quickly shut that “lame-ass” idea down— her words, not yours. You just hadn’t seen the point in doing anything else.

In fact, your costume choice had her name written all over it. You would never in a million years wear this shit, but she successfully picked your brain.

Your eyes glanced down to the bright buckle of your leather belt as your fingers nervously looped under the sleeves of your red flannel. A brown cowgirl hat to match, that annoyingly pressed against the car’s seat each time you’d move.

“No.” You huffed out, rolling your eyes. You had already heard enough of her lectures this week, you were certainly not in the mood for another. Especially since this was supposed to be your night to forget all about him.

“Good. Because I’m gonna tell you right now, I don’t wanna hear shit about him.” A playful smile pulling at her lips, glancing over at your every so often. “Besides, you might even meet someone here.”

“I doubt that.” You sigh, a faint smile spreading across your face.

*ೃ༄

It wasn’t long before you started to feel overwhelmed and slightly agitated. Not even ten minutes into the party, your friend darted straight to the alcohol and slipped in between a group of sketchy looking guys. You watched her from the couch, wishing to not get entangled in that mess.

You only agreed to come out with her tonight because she claimed it help you get your mind off your current situation. But now you were stranded alone in a strange house on Halloween night— left with nothing but the thoughts of your ex swarming in your head.

You blew a raspberry, peering down at your red solo cup that was practically still full. The bass of the music bouncing off the walls and echoing in your head, causing ripples to form in your drink.

You grabbed your phone that buzzed in your pocket. Squinting at the overwhelming brightness before lowering it to read a text from her that appeared on your screen.

bestie bae 💗

I think that guy in the cowboy hat likes you.

Hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night. 👀

You felt your heart drop to your stomach, scanning the crowd of various bodies for the vague description she gave you. Nearly giving up, you just assumed she was tipsy and pulling shit out of her ass. Until you made eye contact with him.

He stood leaning against the wall talking to some other guy. One hand buried into the pocket of his black jeans, the other holding a beer in his hand. A smug grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he glanced over at you. His eyes pierced right through you as if you were transparent, before turning his eyes back to the other man.

His ears were pierced, the silver jewelry shining in the party lights. His sleeves of his red flannel rolled up to his forearms, a trail of dark hair decorating them lightly. Finally, a black cowboy hat rested on top of his head, his brown locks falling gracefully over his forehead.

Your heart fluttered when his eyes shot back at yours for the second time, now eyeing you up and down. His gaze felt like he was slowly undressing you, peeling your costume off inch by inch to get to the most delectable parts.

You squirmed in the cushions of the couch, pressing your thighs together. Maybe it was the cognac, maybe it was the party atmosphere, or maybe it was just him— you couldn’t decipher the exact cause but one thing was for certain; you were most definitely attracted to this man.

You turn away, finally breaking the eye contact from the stranger. Darting them down to your phone to answer her text, but you couldn’t even send your message through before being interrupted by her new one. Warning you that he was coming your way.

“Hey.” He spoke, his tone low and raspy. Sending shivers down your spine. He stood over you confidently, forcing you to look up at him with those round, innocent eyes of yours.

“Hi.” You mumble, shutting your phone off and placing it on your lap.

“I’m Matt.” He revealed, claiming his spot on the empty couch right next to you. His thigh pressing against yours as he manspread, you couldn’t help but take a glance down to his groin.

“Y/N.” You reply, nearly inaudible due to the music still blasting throughout the house. But he didn’t mind, in fact he loved your shyness. It gave him all the more confidence to take leadership. And besides, he knew exactly how the quiet ones were like in bed.

Butterflies swarmed in the pit of your stomach, feeling the warmth of his body heat rush towards you as he leaned over to align his lips up to your ear.

The bass of the music pumping in your chest as you could smell the alcohol on his breath, slightly giving his speech a seductive slur, “What’s a pretty girl like you doing here—” He started, bringing his palm down to your bare legs, gently caressing the plush skin of your thigh, “—all alone?”

You had to exhale a breath in order to answer his question. You grabbed onto his bicep, leaning in towards his ear to whisper back, “Trying to get over an ex.”

“He dumped you?” Matt replied in mere shock.

You could only nod in response, mortified to admit that out loud to anyone that wasn’t your friend.

“What a fucking idiot.” He spat out. “Who would drop a girl like you?”

A faint smile appearing across your face, giving him a playful shrug, “He did apparently.”

A devious grin pulled at the corners of his lips, the same one from just a few moments before. Something sinful on his mind, mentally debating if he should even throw the idea out there.

But of course, his thoughts took over. He just couldn’t help himself, he would always be there for a sweet damsel in distress. And there you were, sitting so helplessly on the couch just begging to be ruined.

“Wanna take this upstairs, so I can show you how much he fucked up?”

*ೃ༄

Alcohol coursed through his veins, leaving him in a frenzy as the music from downstairs blasted through the walls. Your ass hiked up in the air, waving ever so slightly each time you’d lower your head down on his cock.

He had it made up in his mind that your ex had to be mentally deranged to toss a girl like you to the curb, with a mouth like that you’d get anything you wanted from him and more. All you had to say was the word and he’d do it in a heartbeat, no questions asked.

“Fuck baby, just like that.” Matt groaned, his head thrown back into the pillows behind him. “Keep going.”

More praises tumbled out from his lips, leaving you encouraged to go faster. Eager to see what face he’d make or the sounds that would come out from him as he finished.

His hips moving up on their own, slightly bucking up into you. Your mouth closing in on his member is just the right ways as your tongue swirled around his tip that oozed with precum.

Your fingers wrapped around the base, pumping the rest of what you couldn’t fit into your mouth. A pool of saliva bubbling around him and trickling through the gaps of your fingers as you continued bobbing your head up and down.

One of his hands came down, grabbing at your hat and quickly getting rid off it so that he could gaze upon the wondrous sight in front of him. Moving your hair out from your eyes, only for you to look up at him with that same helpless look you had on the couch. It was enough to make him spend right then and there.

His cheeks were flushed and his flannel was unbuttoned, exposing his toned stomach that would rise and fall with each movement of your tongue. A conniving smile tugged at the corners of your lips as your brought your mouth up to his tip, leaving a sloppy kiss against it before flicking your tongue on his slit.

“Fuck. You know what you’re doing, huh?” He groaned with a smirk.

You hummed against him, sending a pleasing tingling sensation all through his body.

“Keep doing that and I’ma cum.” He continued, this time nearly out of breath as his orgasm slowly approached. “Gonna be a good girl for me and take it all?”

“Yes.” You replied in a faint whisper that was hardly audible. Your timidness mixed with your risqué behavior was a dangerous combination. You never broke eye contact with him before slipping your lips past his tip, lowering your head back down as far as you could and pumping the rest with your hand.

His fingers caught in the sheets as he continued feeding you with praises through low grunts and moans. A knot twisting in his stomach as you picked up the pace, his brain completely fogged and all logic thrown out the window. Focusing on nothing else other than his high and the lust he had out for you.

“Oh, shit.” He groaned, his voice low and raspy. His fingers snuck around to the back of your head, pushing your mouth down further onto his dick. The tip hitting the back of your throat as his warm cum spurted out, some seeping past the corners of your mouth and trickled down your chin as he filled it up. “Come on baby, take it.”

Your eyes screwed shut, whimpering against his strong grip for a moment before he let go.

“Open.” He muttered, his hand gripping your face.

You stuck out your tongue, opening your mouth as much as you could. Your heart raced as his thumb pressed against your bottom lip, examining each crease and crevice of your mouth to make sure you did exactly as you were told.

“So good for me. I like that shit.” He smirked as he let go of your lip, amused at how it bounced back up in place.

A giggle slipping past your lips as you crawled up towards him, your knees sinking down into the mattress as you straddled his hips.

One of your hands went straight to his hair, brushing it back from his forehead, tipping off his hat slightly in the process. Your eyes flickered down to his lips, so soft and plump, you craved for them to be on your own.

Without any hesitation, you pressed your lips against his. It started off sweet and delicate almost, with your timid little pecks. But Matt made it clear he needed so much more, slipping his tongue past your lips and his hands navigated their way down to your zipper.

The kiss soon turned into a heated, sloppy mess. The sounds of your lips smacking against his, the mixing of saliva, your teeth clashing together— it all was a sweet melody to your ears that you could listen to on repeat for hours.

Matt swallowed each whimper and plea that slipped past your lips. A pool of your arousal filled up between your legs as his veiny hands removed your denim shirts at an agonizingly slow pace.

Now the only thing keeping your dripping center away from his length was the thin, taunting fabric of your panties— that you so desperately needed ripped off. Your hips instinctively began moving on their own, shamelessly rocking down onto him. So needy to get even the slightest bit of friction.

His fingers dug into the handle of your hips to hold you down into place. Another one of those cocky smirks spread across his face just before pulling away from the kiss. He adored the way you squirmed in his grip, practically crying in protest that he put your greedy, lustful movements to a halt. He absolutely lived for the teasing, he’d argue that it was his favorite part— other than the actual act itself, of course.

“So desperate for my cock, hm pretty girl?” He cooed as his hand traveled down past your stomach.

You tried to give him a response but your mind failed to form a proper sentence. It was completely fogged and consumed with an overwhelming amount of concupiscent thoughts. His finger tips teasingly danced just over the waistband of your panties before finally slipping into them.

Your head dropped down, hiding yourself into the crook of his neck. Your hands clenched around his shoulders, the fabric of his shirt entangling itself in your fingers. A series of whines and cries poured out from you. Taking in the rhythmic movements of his digits. You couldn’t help but grind down into his palm as you felt his fingers trickle down to your entrance.

The way your wetness oozed out from you and coated his fingers had his dick weeping. It ached in excitement to be buried inside you, pushing himself as deep as you’d let him. He could only imagine how it would feel to have your warm, velvety walls wrapped around his cock. You were already so whiny with just his fingers, he wondered how you’d sound with something much larger.

His name escaped past your lips in a breathy moan when you felt two of his fingers slip inside you. He only hummed in amusement, taking in the way your pussy hugged around his fingers so snugly.

“Such a brave girl, taking in the fingers of a stranger. Having me make you feel like this.” He coaxed in way that set your body ablaze, but that didn’t keep him from feeding you even more sweet praises.

“Pussy’s so good, I don’t know how he could ever let this shit go.” He nearly moaned at the way you were sucking him in each time he’d pump his fingers into you.

You whined into his skin, slightly upset that he even brought up your ex. You had forgotten all about him by this point and you wanted to keep it that way.

“Don’t worry.” He begins, gently pulling his fingers out from you, leaving you crying in protest. “I’ma get a taste of what he’s missing. Show you how special you are.”

Your head shot up, a flustered expression written all over your face. Your fingers caressed his jaw, his rough stubble pricking your finger tips, as you pulled him over slightly so that your eyes locked into his. You pressed your lips against his once again, your hands cupping around his face to draw him in closer as his fingers looped under the waistband of your panties.

You lifted your knees up from the mattress, only to bring them back down once Matt maneuvered your underwear off each leg. He groaned into the kiss, eagerness coursing through his veins as he quickly tossed them to the floor. His hand ran down along your back, eliciting a whine from you.

“Gonna ride me, cowgirl?” He grinned, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“Mhm.” You hum.

“Help me out.” He replied, referring to the fact that his hands were already quite busy.

You yelped as he raised you up, his fingers digging into the round cushion of your ass. Your dainty fingers shyly wrapped around the base of his dick, one of his veins shamelessly throbbed against your palm.

He sighed watching you place the tip at your entrance, running it along your wetness before finally slipping it inside.

“Oh, fuck.” You cry, it had been embarrassingly long since you last felt a stretch quite like that— it was definitely an adjustment you weren’t exactly prepared to make.

You tugged your bottom lip past your teeth as your palms flattened against his chest, slowly sinking yourself down on his cock. His hands now wrapped around your waist, holding you up straight so that he could see all of you.

“So fucking pretty, baby.” He groaned as he fought the animalistic urge in him to thrust up into you. “Taking my dick so well.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you fully sat on him, his cock stuffing you so full that you could see the bulge in your stomach. His warm hands roamed all over your body, gripping at your tits, squeezing your waist, groping your ass— anywhere and everywhere. He needed to touch, caress, and massage every single inch of your body.

But he’d be fooling himself if he didn’t see the embarrassment written all over your face— he didn’t want you to feel that way, in fact the complete opposite. So he knew he’d have to take the lead, which he doesn’t mind.

“Come here.” He huffs, his arms extending out so that your body falls into them.

Your head drops back down, hiding in the crook of his neck. His strong arms wrapping around your waist in an almost comforting way as yours draped over his shoulders. You could feel his heavy breaths began to pick up as he slowly began rutting his hips up into you.

You got a waft of his cologne mixed in with the alcohol from earlier, an erotic mixture that made your pussy flutter around his cock. One of his hands stayed on your back, his thumb massaging gentle circles into your skin as the other one made its way back down to your ass.

Your ass was heavy against him in a way that had him about to blow his load, he was lost in a trance at how it clapped against him. He fought the urge to pick up the pace, eager to see the ripple of your flesh and hear those sweet cries pouring out from you.

“You sound so sexy, baby.” He groans, propping up his legs so that his knees were now bent. This way, he’d have more control over the movements of his hips.

You only whine in response, the vibrations of your soft voice going straight towards his ear. It sent a shiver down his spine that had him yearning for more.

Your thick arousal trickled down his member, leaving it glistening in the dim amber lighting that the lamp illuminated in the bedroom. Your pussy squelched each time he’d pump himself in, your plush walls clamping down on him with each movement he made. The horrible slow pace drove him nearly to insanity but he had to make sure that you could handle it at first. But he hadn’t realized that he wasn’t the only one struggling.

“Faster, please.” You pleaded, your breath hitting against a sensitive area on his neck that made him shudder just a bit. Both of his hands now cupping your ass as a sly grin grew on his face.

“Is that what you want, pretty girl?” He whispered, adjusting his hips once more before finally giving your needy little cunt everything it ever wanted. “Nice and fast, having my dick touch that sweet spot of yours? I bet you want my cum too.”

A knot formed in the pit of your stomach and your soft pants soon morphed into desperate, broken moans and cries. He wasn’t kidding at that last comment he made, once he found that spongey area inside you, he didn’t give it a break. He angled his hips in a way so that the tip of his cock kissed that same spot over and over.

His fingers dug into your flesh, most definitely leaving markings to discover for later but you could care less. Matt’s dick had completely swamped your brain, like a parasite slowly taking control of your being— and you absolutely loved it.

Your own hips started grinding against his, your movements complementing his now sloppy thrusts. Your body squirmed in his strong grip as you slowly started unraveling above him. He was awfully close as well, a groan slipping past his lips as his cock twitched along your moist walls.

He continued showering you with even more lewd and sweet praises, so much so that you wondered how many other women he’s said these things to. Here you were, struggling to come up with just a few words while he was tumbling out full, proper and complex sentences.

“Squeezing around so fucking tight. It’s like you’re tryna suck me dry, baby.” Matt moans.

You’re so caught up in chasing your own high that you don’t even notice when one of his hands traveled down past your stomach. A sharp gasp slipped past your lips once you felt his finger tips press into your clit. He wasted no time massaging tight, quick circles into that sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Makes me wanna ask for your number.” He continues in a hum. “Would you like that?”

“S-shit!” You stutter, feeling your walls spasm against his thickness, eliciting a strangled moan from him.

Matt pulls more curses out of you as you rode out your orgasm. His hips still rutting up into as you coated his fingers with your sapid juices.

“So so good for me.” He slurred out, pulling his fingers away from your puffy clit.

Both of his hands now hugged your waist keeping that same sloppy rhythm going with his hips. Your sweet voice filling up his ears and consuming his thoughts as you sobbed out his name.

It wasn’t long before he approached his own orgasm. Your body curled into his as you felt the hot, sticky ropes shoot up into you. A white ring forming at the base of cock as he continued fucking his cum back into you before finally pulling himself out with a pop.

The two of your heartbeats raced in your chests, syncing with one another as your heavy pants filled the room. The erotic aroma of sex filled the room and you mentally cursed yourself for fucking this random man in another stranger’s bedroom.

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#luv4kozume #💌 — request!#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #sturniolos #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut

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arcanesea · 5 months

Text

sorry i can't say it sober | mingyu x reader | 1.4k w. WARNING: mentions of alcohol ((drink responsibly !!))

It’s not the first time you got a call at 2 in the morning, and it’s not the first time you unconsciously pick it up.

“I am so sorry for bothering you again, but Mingyu drank a lot more than he’s supposed to, and now he’s refusing to leave the bar and kept on asking for you…” A voice talking on the other end of the phone, from the frantic voice, you can tell it’s Seokmin. You could also hear other voices faintly in the background, complete with loud grunting.

You sat on your bed, rubbing your eyes before throwing your blanket away. Sighing, you replied, “Can you give this to him? Or put me on speaker.”

You heard rustling on the other end before a whiny voice calling your name.

“Can you not be a pain in everyone’s asses?” you ask. You went to the bathroom, securing your phone between your shoulder and ear.

“What do you want me to do? I’ll do everything you ask me,” he responded in an instant, making you confused. Usually, he would make you go out there and pick him up. Despite his height which is almost twice yours, you always manage to take him to the front door of his apartment.

“Just go home with your friends, Gyu,” you answered. There are 12 other guys with him right now and everyone can’t be drunk, right? Right?

“Okay…” he whines.

“You’re a real lifesaver, truly,” Seokmin talked to the phone again. “We’ll drive him home and I’ll text you when we arrive, thanks again!” he half-yelled before disconnecting the phone call. You stood there in front of your sink, groaning in frustration.

You walked back to your bed, picking up the blanket before fully covering yourself in it. You don’t know why is it always you that Mingyu asks for when he’s drunk, or why all of his friends immediately call you when something happens to him. It’s not that you’re uncomfortable, you know all of the guys and they’re nice guys, but sometimes, sometimes, thinking that everyone referred to you as Mingyu’s closest friends makes your heart do a backflip.

Obviously, emphasize the words friends. But isn’t it nice that you’re the first person everyone thinks of when they can’t get ahold of Mingyu when you know exactly where he is and it’s never with you?

You groaned again. Now you wished you were out there, driving him back to his apartment so you could hear him talk about how he’s grateful for you, about how pretty you look under the dim streetlight, and how you’re all that he has.

You were half asleep when you heard a knock on your door. You ignored it at first, but then it grew impatient. So once again, you leave your bed, annoyed.

What you saw on the peephole was enough to wake you up. You immediately unlock the door and pull it open.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you ask, voice barely audible with a hint of irritation. You didn’t expect Mingyu to show up here in only his plain black t-shirt.

“Are we not best friends anymore?” he just asks back, pushing his hair back. It’s gotten longer now and he has no intention of cutting it since you said that he looks more charming with that hairstyle. “It’s freezing cold out here, can I get in?” he whines again, cupping his hands in front of his mouth and blowing it. “Don’t you love me anymore?”

You step aside to let Mingyu in. Eyes wide open in disbelief, unable to answer a single question.

He makes his way to the sofa, plopping down instantly, and pulls a piece of fabric in the backrest to cover the upper half of his body. You shook your head, walking over to take a spare blanket.

“Why are you even going out with only a T-shirt at this temperature, stupid,” you mumble to yourself. You move some pillows to make more room for him on the sofa. You tried to take another one from underneath his neck, but clearly, you underestimated his strength without even trying. In return, the pillow pulled you down.

Your hand was quick to support you on the side of his head, but you could feel heat creeping up on your face as you held his gaze. For a second, you stayed there until his eyes shifted to your lips and you felt your throat dry. You stood up abruptly. Throwing the pillow on the floor before getting to the bedroom.

You close it with force, leaning on the closed door as you try to slow down your heart rate.

A soft knock came after some time. You can hear him sitting down on the floor. He called your name once, then twice when you didn’t respond. Then one more time before you open the door to him sitting cross-legged in front of it.

“Do you need anything?” you ask, trying to steady your voice. He only shakes his head, pouting.

“I need you,” he answered. His brows knitted as if he’s not sure of his own words.

You let out a shaky laugh, leaning to the doorframe.

“Why are you even here, Gyu?” you asked. He’s been here plenty of times, but never drunk.

“When Seokmin said he would take me home, my immediate thought was you,” he answered. For someone who’s had too much drink, he articulate his answer pretty well.

“How much did you drink?” you ask again, laughing genuinely this time. He looks at you and then starts counting on his hand.

“I don’t remember, I can’t count,” he said, pressing his hands to his head. “Ow… There are two of you… I feel attacked…”

“You need sleep, c’mon.” You said, helping him stand up. You lead him to the sofa, trying to arrange the pillows before ordering him to lie down. “You came here, try to survive on this sofa because I am so not sharing a bed with you.”

You were about to leave when he called your name once again. He was half-sitting, just looking at you.

“I mean it, you know… I’m sorry I can’t say it sober, but you’re all I ever wanted.”

“And I would gladly respond to that when you are. Good night, Gyu.”

He would probably forget it in the morning, right?

You weren’t the one who drowned in liquor the night before, but you got a massive headache from the thoughts of Mingyu in your living room. You suppose he would already leave by the time you step out of your room, leaving you with some kind of sorry notes, and then everything would go back to how it was before. Except you remember every detail from last night clearly and he might not.

So when you saw him in your kitchen, you almost got a second heart attack.

“What are you still doing here?” you ask with a low voice. Mingyu turned around with a wide smile and a pan in his hand.

“I made you breakfast.” He said. The way he said it, was so natural, almost like he didn’t just said all that the night before. You sat down cautiously, trying to get a read on him. He poured half of the scrambled egg on top of the toast he already prepared.

You pour yourself a glass of water and take a sip.

“I’m starving,” he said. You watched as he started clearing the content of his plate while you took a small bite, pushing the nervousness down.

“I’m also here to wait for your response. I think I’m sober enough,” he said. You choked on your water, making him laugh a little as he pushed a napkin in your direction.

“You… remember?”

“Yeah… It was weird, wasn’t it?” he asks back, eyes squinting. “But I… I actually don’t know how to say it to you, because we’re too comfortable like this, and if I told you how I feel, I’m afraid you will hate me.”

“So, you what? Hook up with other girls, trying to see if it will make me jealous?” you retort.

“Oh my God, is that what you think I was doing?” he quips, standing from his chair. “I was never… Wow… Why would you think that…”

You just rolled your eyes in response. Trying not to smile.

“I’m serious,” he said again. “I can’t… no… I don’t want to stay friends.”

“Who said we should?” you answer, standing in front of him. You put your hands around his neck, smile blooms on your face as you press your lips to his. He smiles into the kiss before pulling you by the waist.

“Yeah, we definitely shouldn’t.”

a/n. this is an old writing-

prompt from the lovely @creativepromptsforwriting

#seventeen au #seventeen imagines #seventeen fic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen drabbles #seventeen angst #svt au #svt imagines #svt fic #svt scenarios #svt drabbles #svt angst #mingyu fic #mingyu au #mingyu imagines #mingyu x reader #mingyu angst

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whorediaries-09 · 5 months

Note

oneshot in which reader is drunk and desperate for sex but james feels like she'd give her consent drunkenly so it wouldn't be proper consent, but she's begging, and he eats her out and she's babbling out thank you's

hi love, thank you for sending in the request. i quite literally am in love with it.

meddle about;

pairing- fdad!james potter x reader warning(s)- age gap (nothing borderline illegal), 18+ content, mention of alcohol. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- might make a part two if ya'll want to.

ps- okay so for better understanding, reader is harry's friend and is as the same age as oliver wood.

the slut club early winter event

'cause it's not just a figure of speech you got me down on my knees

you're warm. you don't know whether it's because of the alcohol stimulating every inch within you, or because you can feel your friend's dad's toned thighs underneath yours. either ways, it's a nice feeling that fills you up. to be on a motorbike, your shoulders clad in a sweater that isn't yours, riding under the stars under the lucent light of the streetlights. it's blinding you think, how your heart beats with how tightly pressed you are against his back.

it wasn't supposed to be him picking you up. you had called harry, and somehow his dad was there, a few moments later. you were drunk, and similarity of their features had fogged you for a few moments. you'd successfully stopped yourself from hugging him like he was your best friend. he'd smiled at your dumb found expression, before his eyes raked over your figure, the skimpy dress upon your body. mid november, you stood, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself. he took of his sweater and made you wear it.

you remember yourself asking what he was doing with sirius' motorbike. you remember his grin while he elaborated his explanations, slowly so you could catch up,

'i'm learning how to ride one. and besides my car is at the mechanics. the broom wouldn't exactly be okay if i just carried it to a muggle bar, and well disapparating is really complicated when one is drunk.'

so that's how you ended up here, on the warm couch of james potter, exhaustion dripping of your body.

'hi,' you blink, as he appears with a bunch of things on a tray. he offers you a subtle smile, setting the tray on the coffee table. his hands cup your cheeks, while he makes sure you're watching him, and your subconscious is with the moment.

'hey, dove. i'll wipe your makeup off okay?' he asks, the question tearing off softly from his lips. you stare at his lips longer than you intended to, longer than it was appropriate,

'yeah, yeah,' you nod. his hands work with the packet of wipes, slowly rubbing the cleanser soaked sheet over your face, wiping off your unsettled makeup.

your mind swirls south. his hot breath is fanning over your face, hand holding your face in place while his tongue prods out from between his lips. you inch closer to him, your knees touching with his. you feel the edge of his nose almost touch yours and you shudder. it's a weird feeling of warmth that pools in your stomach when you think how his lips would taste against yours. you wonder how his strong hands would grip you, while he'd rut his cock into you. you wonder how his voice would sound while he'd whisper sensual words in your ears.

with utmost adoration, you look into his hazel eyes. the moonlight beams through the window, enlightening the softness of his eyes. you feel his breath hitch as you move closer to his face, tilting your neck. he gulps, his heart beating against his throat.

'we shouldn't do this...' he whispers. but he doesn't let go of your face.

'but i want to. i need you mr. potter, so bad,'

your world collapses. his lips entangle with yours, as he pulls you closer to his body. he ravages your mouth with his tongue, exploring every bit there is left untouched. he sucks on your teeth, bits on your lip, and caresses your body as if he's got it memorized, as if he's got you written across his mind. he kisses you as if you'd flee if he left you. he devours with his passion, consuming you whole.

you think he might kiss you till you're lips are blue. he tastes of cinnamon and oranges. you're breathless by the time he leaves you, with a little shake. he grunts, trying to scoot away from you, but the beauty of your swollen lips and disgruntled sighs leaving your mouth leaves him mesmerized.

'fuck,' he says. you raise an eyebrow, moving towards him. he stands up.

'what's wrong?'

'no...i don't think we should do this-this is wrong-'

'i need you, please, please have me,' you beg. he's standing against the wall, your hands wrapped around him, pushing him towards the wall behind him.

'no no, you're drunk,' he says. you bite your lip,

'i maybe drunk, but i want you. i wanted you sober, i want you drunk,' you insist. he looks down upon you, contemplating your words. your fingers reek over his chest, trailing up to his neck. your finger entangle with his curls, and you bring his face down.

'feel my cunt, it's so wet, just for you,' you mumble against his lips. his breath shudders. he takes a deep breath, inhaling in you. his hands arm around your hips, wrapping your legs aground his hips. he dives into your mouth, pushing away things strewn across the hall, taking you to his bedroom. his hand fumbles with the door, as he locks it.

he pushes you on his bed, his hands not fast enough to get rid of the dress you're wearing.

*****

it's maddening, the pace his tongue works on your clit. you're over the edge of the bed, your legs spread apart, his face buried into your pussy. filthy moans leave your mouth, as his tongue dives into your cunt, devouring you better than your wildest dreams could ever. you'd dreamt about his face buried between your thighs, while he ate you out and made you scream till your throat was raw.

'ple-please,' you beg, rutting your hips into his mouth. you feel him smile against you, the frame of his metal glasses cold against your hot skin. his finger circles over your clit,

'you taste so good sweetheart,' he croons. you numbly nod your head, fondling with your breasts.

'thank you,'

he shoves his finger inside your sopping cunt, diving his mouth between your legs again. he licks a stripe up your slit, curling his finger inside you as he sucks upon your sensitive bud. he swirls his tongue, spitting on your cunt, rhythmically moving his fingers. your breathing rate increases, stomach rising and falling as you feel the coil of orgasm build within your guts. your hand reaches his head full of curls, pushing his face closer to your dripping cunt. your thighs wrap around his head, and you scream.

'fuc-fuck i'm so close,'

he hums, the vibration sending chills down your spine. he increases the pace of his fingers, feeling your walls clench around him.

'oh fuck, fuck, thank you, thank you-' you slur, as your toes curl, and eyes roll backwards. your hips rise, and he growls,

'god cum on my tongue,'

you vigorously nod your head, moving your cunt against his splayed out tongue, letting your orgasm grip you. you release your juices on his tongue, and he devours you, lapping up every inch of your juices on his tongue.

'thank you, thank you, fuck, thank you,' you babble, mindlessly.

he stands up, his cock erect and huge in all its glory. he holds you by your neck, making you sit on your knees, the fabric of the carpet digging into your skin.

'now you're gonna return the favor won't you, love?' he whispers.

#james potter fluff #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #marauders era #marauders headcanon #the marauders #james potter x you #james potter smut #james potter one shot #james potter fic #james potter x regulus black #marauders fanfiction #james potter fanfiction

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thebearer · 8 months

Note

Friends with benefits lip saying they’re not exclusive and that he’s not her bf so don’t go getting any ideas but then getting upset when reader takes him up on that and starts seeing other people

"The fuck are you doin'?" Lip growled, one hand curled around your arm, the other pulling you away from the intoxicated frat boy who's hand had slowly started to make it's way up your dress.

"What?" You grumbled, words slurring together a little. The frat party had been Lip's idea, of course, texting you about Mikayla or Hannah who had invited him... who he was also trying to have sex with.

You and Lip were friends. Casual hookups when there was nothing else, but friends. Truly. That's all.

Or so you both told yourselves.

Lip and you had a rule- there was no rules. Do whoever and whatever, and Lip had happily embarked on that rule before with Amanda and Helene and all the others you didn't care to know about.

You had your roster too, more cautious about it, but still a regular rotation. It worked for a while, you and Lip's casual hookups- I mean who could blame you? He could eat pussy like a champ. But recently, things had started to get... difficult between the two of you. A shift that could only be blamed on the rise in your shared hookups- and feelings.

"Hey, man, we're just-"

"-Fuck off, alright? She's drunk you piece of shit." Lip shoved the guy, harder than he should have, the frat boy's cup spilling on the girl behind him when he stumbled.

"Lip, I-I'm not even drunk. What are you- Hey, where are we going?" You frowned, feet stumbling as he drug you through the crowds of people towards the door.

Lip's jaw flexed, eyes in a narrowed hard glare. He didn't even look at whatever her name was sorority girl who whined at him when he stormed out of the house with you. You pretended to be annoyed when she glared at you, the look of pure jealousy on her face- it made your heart skip knowing she thinks you two are together. That Lip chose you.

"What is your problem?" You huffed, nearly twisting your ankle on the pavement with how fast he was walking. "Lip, can you let go of me? Christ." You huffed, yanking your arm free.

"What is your problem?" You repeated, glaring at him under the streetlight. The campus was mostly empty, a few stragglers drunkenly stumbling home.

Lip scoffed, a hand running over his mouth. "You-You were just gonna let that guy- that guy fuckin' touch you like that? In front of everyone?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Are you kidding me? I know you're not talking, you were practically fucking blondie in the kitchen!" You threw your hand out in exasperation.

Lip shook his head, pacing a few steps ahead before circling back. "I-I don't get it. You're letting that dumb fuck touch you? I didn't even think you liked guys like that."

"Who says I liked him?" You scoffed. "I just wanted to have sex with him."

"Yeah, well, you didn't have to have it with him." Lip knew his argument was weak, hoping you wouldn't notice. The quip in your brow told him you did. "That guy is fuckin' stupid."

"Ok? And your Chi Kappa Delta whatever girl is so much smarter?" You sneered. You didn't know her, shouldn't have been so harsh. You couldn't help the way you bristled at the thought of her. Her hands in his hair, kissing him all sloppy in the kitchen- and he let her.

Of course he did. He should have, you told yourself. You two are just friends.

"I'm not fucking people because they're smart. He's a good fuck, and I was horny." You shrugged, biting back the small grin when Lip's spine straightened.

"You've fucked him before?" He scoffed.

"Yeah?" You snipped. "A few times. He's on the roster. The one that I've told you about that can-"

"-I don't..." Lip snapped, shaking his head, taking a deep cleansing breath. "If you were horny, you coulda just told me. Would've handled that."

"You seemed busy." You scoffed, rolling your eyes. You hoped Lip didn't hear the flare of jealousy in your tone. "And besides, it's not your turn. I have a system."

"Yeah? He's better than me?" Lip growled, taking a menacing step that closed in the space between you two.

You swallowed hard, your eyes on his, knees wobbling with excitement. "I didn't say... Why do you even care?" You scoffed, stepping back, throwing your arms out.

Lip faltered for a moment, cheeks tinging in heat. His heart pounded in his chest, ringing in his ears. "I-I don't." He said curtly, and you tried to convince yourself it was the alcohol that made your stomach turn the way it did. "I just... don't want you gettin' a-a std or somethin'. Looks like he's got s dirty dick."

"Right." You mumble, wrapping your arms around yourself. There was a pause, a silence that was far too deafening for both of you. "'m gonna go home." You mutter, glancing up at Lip. "I, uh, I got a nine am tomorrow anyways."

"Yeah, I-I'll walk you." Lip offered, stepping beside you, heading to your on campus apartment. You'd managed to swing that, somehow, and Lip frequented it often. Because the dorms were so noisy, of course.

"'s alright. You don't have to." You shrugged. "I got it."

"No, I... it's not a big deal, alright? Left my key there anyways." Lip nodded. It was a lie, his key was in his pocket, but you didn't need to know that. "Besides... you still horny?" He looked at you, smirking at how you blushed.

"Maybe a little. Either horny or tired, I can't decide yet." You hummed simply, eyes batting up at him.

"Yeah? I can help you with that." Lip grinned, hand snaking down your back to your ass, squeezing lightly.

Lip fucked you to sleep, legs thrown over his shoulders, thankful you didn't have roommates at the way you cried out. Because what else are friends for?

#thebearer #thebearerblurbs #lip gallagher #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher x you smut #lip gallagher x female reader #lip x reader #lip gallagher x reader #shameless #shamless us #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher blurb #lip gallagher x fem!reader #lip x you #lip gallagher x you

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lovebugism · 6 months

Note

Hii can i request “It’s a brain freeze, you’re not dying, stop making a scene.” with steve for the fictober event pretty please

ty for requesting lovie!! — you and steve get too drunk at a halloween party and chief hopper comes to save you (tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, tw for drinking and not being proofread, 1.7k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve opens the back door of Jim’s cop car for you, swaying in place and urging your drunken limps inside. “Thanks for picking us up, Chief,” you chirp, slurring slightly and smiling wide.

The old grump sends you a deadpanned look over his shoulder. He’s visibly tired, features blurred with exhaustion. His white t-shirt and pajama pants are still wrinkled with leftover sleep. The two of you are wearing two a.m. very definitely.

“Yeah, yeah. Just buckle up, alright?” he hums gruffly as Steve slides in beside you. “I’m just happy you two called me and didn’t try to drive yourself.”

He puts the car in drive and peels away from the curb. The bass pulsing from Tina’s house begins to fade. The man flinches dramatically when you lean forward to slap his shoulder.

“That’s ‘cause we’re responsible adults,” you quip, then turn to your right to look at your boyfriend. “Aren’t we, Stevie?”

The Stevie in question is on a different planet entirely. His hair is a wild chestnut halo on his head, the crown of it tilted to the headrest. The tendons of his neck are on display, as are the faint red lipstick stains you pressed onto his tanned skin. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

Cheeks rosy and eyes fluttered shut, you can’t tell if he’s sleeping or not.

“Right, Stevie?” you repeat with a gentle shove to his arm.

His eyes open, red-rimmed and glassy. “Hm?”

“We’re responsible.”

“Oh. Yeah. Totally. Look at us,” he scoffs without a second thought.

The two of you flash a couple of drunk, lopsided grins at Jim, who peers at you from the rearview mirror. He grumbles something under his breath neither of you can make out.

You get distracted by the amber streetlights flitting by until looking out the window makes you queasy. When you look at Steve again, his eyes are shut and his chin is tilted towards his chest. You feel an obligation to keep him awake — like he’s concussed or something and not just piss drunk.

“You with me, Stevie?” you mutter, reaching for his face and holding his stubbly chin between your thumb and forefinger.

His heavy eyelids flutter slowly open. His dark eyes are honeyed. They flit like syrup across your features. A smile pulls at the right corner of his plush mouth. “You look so pretty right now, you know that?” he murmurs in inaudible slurs.

You hear him anyway, equally as drunk and speaking the same language even though Jim can’t understand a word.

“Just right now?” you tease. “As opposed to, like, every other moment in time?”

His bushy brows twist in offense — nose scrunching and lips pouting, like you’ve pained him by even joking about it. “No. You’re pretty all the time, just… A little extra like this.”

You don’t know what he means. You look like a total mess — hair wild, makeup smudged, drunk and fatigued and wearing it all over. But Steve looks at you like you’re beautiful anyway. Like you hung the fucking moon sitting full in the pitch black sky.

His brows raise and his eyes sparkle. “’S kinda makin’ my heart race a little bit, actually.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, turning him away from you and letting go of his chin. “That’s just the alcohol, Stevie.”

“No, it’s love—”

You giggle at his slurred singing, louder when he leans across the backseat to kiss you. His aim is horribly off, wet mouth smacking at the corner of your lips down towards your chin.

Hopper shouts at you anyway. “Hey! Uh-uh, no sucking face in my backseat— especially not in front of me, alright?” the man grouses, hands fidgeting on the steering wheel. “Spare me the emotional turmoil, will ya?”

You sneak a quiet peck to Steve’s pouted mouth when Jim’s not looking.

The boy grins with contentment a second later. “Mm,” he hums, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip. “You taste like cherry.”

“It’s the punch. It tasted just like slurpees, I swear—” You’re about to start rambling, then cut yourself off with a dramatic gasp. “Hopper!”

“No,” the man montones from the front seat. It’s like he can read your mind.

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say!” you whine with a pout.

“I’m not stopping for slurpees, alright? I’m taking you kids home so you can sober up and get the hell out from under me. That’s it.”

There’s a brief moment of silence. For that fleeting second, Jim thinks he’s won. Then you and Steve inhale a deep breath and beg at the same time, “Pleaseeee!”

He sighs so deeply his chest deflates like a popped balloon. He readjusts his grip on the pleather steering wheel and grumbles like a storm cloud.

“Jim, please,” you beg, dramatic and terribly loud with it. The man flinches when you reach forward to grab his arm. He slows at a stoplight and turns back to look at you, bathed in neon red and sparkling with desperation. “I need slurpees to live.”

Jim blinks at you for a moment, then turns away when the light goes green again. He shakes his head and mumbles, “God, you’re so dramatic…”

You smile all giddy as you sit back because you know you’ve won.

“You’re lucky I need to get gas, anyway,” he tells you, just to make himself feel better, as he pulls into the nearest Seven-Eleven parking.

The intensity of the fluorescent lights makes you squint. The very distant headache you’ve been fighting off since midnight starts to creep back up again. Steve sees this — because there’s nothing about you he doesn’t notice — and swipes his sunglasses off his face to put them on you.

“Thanks, Zuko,” you joke as he pushes the plastic up the bridge of your nose.

Jim, seemingly less grumpy than moments before, unbuckles his seatbelt and looks at the two of you over his shoulder. “That’s what you guys are supposed to be?” he scoffs out a laugh as he fishes his wallet out of his pocket. “Those kids from Grease?”

“No,” you answer with a dramatic drawl. “I’m you. Duh.”

Hopper almost breaks his neck with the double take he gives you. He squints at your tropical-patterned shirt, unbuttoned at the chest and tucked into your jeans, and realizes you are him. He doesn’t know if he should be mad or honored.

“I was supposed to be Sandy, but then Steve ripped the costume,” you reason with a shrug.

Jim’s eyes narrow. “Was it too small?”

“Nope,” you answer in a monotone, popping the ‘p.’

His scruffy face twists like he’s tasted something sour. “You guys are disgusting.”

“It was a blessing in disguise, though. This is, like, a kajillion times more comfortable.”

Steve nods beside you, slow and sloppy and full of hubris. “This was a much better choice.”

“It’s super hot, right?”

“Total dilf material.”

Jim’s features scrunch. It’s like you two are speaking a different language. “What the hell does that mean?” he wonders aloud.

You and Steve share a look before snickering and getting out of the car.

He repeats, louder this time. “Hey. What does dilf mean? Hey! I’m talking to you—”

His only answer is the slam of the car door.

Like an annoyed father, Jim swears at the two of you under his breath while he pumps gas but eyes both of you attentively to make sure you get inside without busting your ass.

When he follows you to pay, he finds you acting like a couple of unsupervised toddlers. You lick flavored ice from your fingertips while Steve leans back with his face beneath the lever, pouring blue raspberry slush into his mouth.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Jim scolds from the entrance, brows pinched and mouth agape. Your eyes go wide, still licking syrup from your fingers. Steve, meanwhile, is still trying to swallow his melting mouthful. Hopper shakes his head. “There are cups right next to you.”

The man escorts the both of you out after he pays.

Steve holds one of your hands and swings it between your bodies. Your free hand is at your head, rubbing gently at your temples. The ache is distant and dull, like an ice pick has been shoved inside your skull.

“Ow…” you whine softly to yourself when getting into the car jostles the pain.

Jim watches you try and fail to buckle yourself in. He can’t tell if you’re still just drunk or if your headache’s making it harder for you. Maybe both. He reaches over to help you anyway.

“It’s just a brain freeze, you’re not dying,” the man grouses over your whining, clicking the latch into place. “Stop making a scene about it. You’re fine.”

He leans back from you and is about to shut the door. Then, with a flat face, he asks, “Are you okay?”

“My head hurts…” you murmur, slurring like a sick child desperate to be babied.

Hopper sighs. “You’re okay…”

He shuts the door with a gentle push. He gets into the driver’s seat and resumes the drive home in a relative quiet.

You and Steve lean against each other in the backseat. He hogs the slurpee you both agreed to share, but you don’t mind. You’re still fighting off a headache like you’re fighting off sleep.

“Did you have fun?” the boy asks you, resting his cheek against your hair. You can smell the blue raspberry on his breath.

“I always have fun,” you mumble.

“At Halloween parties?”

“No, dummy. With you.”

“Oh,” he hums with a crooked smile you can’t see. “Sweet.”

Jim’s smiling to himself before he means to, shaking his head at how goddamn in love the two of you are. It’s so sanguine, it makes him sick.

He slows when he pulls up to Steve’s house. The mansion is totally empty — not a car in the driveway or a single light on. No one’s here, because no one’s ever here.

“Alright, lovebirds. We’re here. Get out,” he announces, voice gruff with the sleep he wishes he was getting.

The car jerks softly when he puts it in park. When he looks over his shoulder, he finds you and Steve totally knocked out. Eyes shut, mouths open, lips stained purple from red and blue slurpees.

Jim huffs. “You gotta be kidding me…”

He feigns annoyance about the whole thing because he’s got a reputation to uphold. He’s the grumpy old man you come to for help — that’s his thing. So even in your sleep, he grumbles with a light-hearted irritation as he drives you back to the cabin. At least there he can keep an eye on you both.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

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teamatsumu · 6 months

Text

DRUNKEN KISSES.

characters: bokuto, atsumu, oikawa

word count: 1255

cw: fluff, some angst, fem!reader

taglist: @keiva1000

BOKUTO KOUTARO:

“Watch it!” You yelped when Bokuto stumbled over uneven pavement, making you sway as well, considering almost half his body weight was on you. You cursed under your breath as Bokuto simply giggled, finding the whole situation supremely funny.

“Kou…” You sighed, shaking your head and trailing off. You couldn’t possibly be mad at him. Sure, you had to drag your ass out of bed so late at night in order to fetch him after Hinata had called you, saying he was wasted beyond belief and there was no way he could get home by himself. But you couldn’t really be ticked off by that. You had seen first hand how hard Bokuto had worked in the weeks leading up to the new volleyball season. As his roommate, you knew intimately how jam packed his schedule was with training, running, practicing. So Bokuto absolutely deserved to let loose for a bit, even if it meant you supporting his weight and dragging his humongous body along with you back to your shared apartment.

Two more blocks. You could do this.

Bokuto was humming some tune under his breath, lost in his own little world, probably still thinking about MSBY’s momentous win against the Adlers tonight. The thought also put a smile on your face, remembering how you felt watching the game on TV, watching Bokuto’s grinning face. You were only pulled from your thoughts when Bokuto nudged you with his hips, making you look up at him.

“Hi.” He flashed you a million dollar smile, making your lips twitch up as well. His happiness was contagious.

“Hey there.” You replied.

“‘M really happy.” His face was flushed, eyes darting all over your face, slightly hazy. You felt your body buzz at his words, your expression softening.

“I’m glad.” You whispered back, staring at the warm gold of his irises.

Your pace was slowing, until you two had stopped completely. Dead silence surrounded you, the cold air of the night going unnoticed where your bodies were touching, Bokuto’s heavy arm thrown over your shoulder. He leaned down quickly, lips meeting yours.

They were cold, but soft, moving slowly over yours, lips dragging as if trying to memorize the shape and taste of yours. Your heart jumped, your grip around his waist tightening, mirroring his movements by tilting your head.

The streetlight overhead flickered a bit. It went unnoticed by both of you.

MIYA ATSUMU:

You blinked your sleep-heavy eyes open, jerking up to look at the clock on the far wall. Nearly 1am. And yet, there was no mistaking the heavy banging happening on your front door right now.

A deep scowl was etched on your face as you stumbled to the front door in your pajamas. The banging was relentless and without pause, and you nearly yelled at the person when you put your eye to the peephole. A groan escaped your lips when you glimpsed messy dyed blonde hair, closing your eyes and praying for patience from the lord above.

Atsumu gave you a sleazy grin when you opened the door, a long, whiny ‘heyyyy’ leaving his lips. He leaned an arm against the doorframe, trying to look smooth but failing miserably when he slipped and slammed a shoulder against the wall instead, making him curse and pout. If you weren’t so angry, you would’ve laughed.

“It’s 1 in the morning.” You deadpanned, taking in his appearance. He was wearing a nice button-up blue shirt and black slacks, the sleeves rolled up and the first two buttons undone. His hair was a mess, his cheeks carrying a flush that you knew all too well.

“And you’re drunk.” You added, suddenly understanding why he had ended up on your doorstep so late at night. You felt yourself soften a bit in pity, watching how he swayed unsteadily on his feet, looking you up and down while being painfully obvious.

“Missed ya.” He mumbled, before giving you another lazy smile. But you could see through it.

Your breakup had been hard on Atsumu, who refused to accept that you no longer wanted to be a part of his life. Though this was the first time you were seeing him in person since you called it quits, he hadn’t stopped pestering you over calls and texts for weeks.

“Atsumu….” You sighed, feeling defeated. You saw the hurt flash in his eyes.

“What happened to ‘Tsumu?” He slurred, stepping closer to you until the space between you two was minimal.

“Go home.” You ignored his question.

“Gimme a kiss first.”

“Atsu-”

“Gimme a kiss. And I’ll leave.”

You sighed, closing your eyes for a second. When you opened them again and met his stare, catching the hope in his brown ones, you gave in.

What was supposed to be a short peck became a long, deep kiss, your tongues dragging over each other, his hand moving to the back of your head to keep you in place. Not that you wanted to move. One taste of him reminded you of what you had had, and you couldn’t help fisting his shirt, pulling his body closer to yours, stepping back into your apartment until the door was gently shutting behind both of you.

OIKAWA TOORU:

“This is exactly what you do if you want to burn a kitchen down, not make banana bread!” You yelped, pulling open the oven door only for huge clouds of black smoke to rush out of it. You coughed and waved both hands through the smoke, trying to clear it enough. You heard the telltale hum of the exhaust fan buzzing to life, mentally thanking Oikawa for having enough sense to turn it on.

Whoever thought drunk baking was a good idea? (It was Oikawa. Oikawa thought it was a good idea. And you were drunk too, so you had agreed with him)

You were sobering up pretty quickly though, realizing that you two could potentially be setting your entire flat on fire. But when you straightened up and looked back at Oikawa, you saw him chugging back another glass of red wine.

“Tooru!” You laughed incredulously, to which Oikawa looked at you with wide eyes, biting back a smile.

“What? You have the situation under control!”

You dissolved into giggles, leaning against the counter as you eyed the smoke clearing slowly. Oikawa came to stand next to you, both of you watching your pathetic attempt at baking disappear through the fan and out into the open air, carrying your failures along with it.

“That was fun.” Your roommate spoke up, making you smile.

“We should never have fun like this again.”

He nodded, looking down at you with his charming smile. His eyes were warm, chestnut hair slightly disheveled. His eyelids slid to half mast, gaze running lower until it was trained on your lips, and he hummed low. You felt your breath catch at the change in the atmosphere, subconsciously leaning closer to Oikawa. For some reason, in your alcohol-addled brain, he looked particularly captivating.

You didn’t even realize when exactly your lips met his, or when he reciprocated it. All you could concentrate on was the sweet taste of wine lingering on his lips, or the delicious drag of his hands down your sides before his fingers squeezed at your hips. His chest, firm but unsteady just like yours, was pushed flush against yours, and he sighed into your lips before pushing his tongue languidly into your mouth.

The smoke eventually cleared. Not that either of you were paying attention.

#bokuto koutaro x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #miya atsumu x reader #bokuto koutaro x y/n #bokuto kotaro x you #bokuto koutaro fluff #bokuto fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #oikawa tooru fluff #oikawa tooru x you #oikawa fluff #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu fluff #miya atsumu x y/n

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55sturn · 2 months

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ PETER LOSIN’ WENDY

↳ masterlist!

↳ summary: in which chris doesn't realize that while pursuing another girl, he's losing the girl that would've been the one for him.

↳ pairings: chris sturniolo x fem!reader | chris sturniolo x named fem!oc

↳ warnings: swearing, drunk!reader + drunk!chris, cheating, angst, angst, and even more angst, unresolved hurt.

↳ author's note: hehehehe i love angst! this is lowkey short and will not have a part two!

↳ important notes: red text blocks are lyrics that prelude what’s about to happen!

THIRD PERSON POV

chris didn't realize he had made a mistake until it was far too late. he thought that amelia was the girl he wanted, but he soon realized that he couldn't have been more wrong.

he really, truly though that he would have enough will and time to choose between the two girls, however he didn't realize that as he chased them both, he was losing the girl that was the one for him.

VINTAGE TEE, BRAND NEW PHONE, HIGH HEELS ON COBBLESTONES

as y/n and chris made their way home from some random los angeles party, the couldn't help but giggle each time y/n's heels clicked against the cobblestone path they walked along. the two couldn't help their drunken giggles as they blindly made their way home.

"you should take those off before you hurt yourself." chris laughed, his hand intertwined with hers as he held his phone in the other.

"i'll be fine. you never told me where your shirt was from by the way."

"it's from some vintage thrift store back home in boston."

"i like it." she whispered, titling her head as she stared at him beneath the streetlight.

"let me take a picture of you, i don't have any on this phone yet." chris smiled, taking the picture as she blushed, watching as he set as his lockscreen.

BUT I KNEW YOU, DANCING IN YOUR LEVI'S, DRUNK UNDER A STREETLIGHT

the two continued their walk home, haphazardly walking into each other as they stumbled further down the path. their hands loosely intertwined with each other's, chris couldn't help pull her closer to him, his other hand falling to her waist as he softly rocked their bodies back and forth, humming a slow beat to a song playing quietly in his head.

"i like this side of you." she whispered, brushing his hair out of his eyes at he smiled down at her.

"not many get to know this side of me, but you do."

"i wanna know every side of you." she smiled back, watching as his eyes sparkled slightly.

y/n slowly walked ahead, unaware of chris' phone pinging in his pocket, another girl blowing up his messages wondering where he was as she missed him.

with a shameful sigh, he plucked his phone from the back pocket of his levi's, swiping away the notifications she sent his way.

HAND UNDER MY SWEATSHIRT, BABY KISS IT BETTER // SAID I WAS YOUR FAVOURITE

chris hand was beneath the back of y/n's sweater as she cried against his chest, her head hurting from the amount of stress she had dealt with during the day.

"baby, can you kiss it better?" she teased, trying to lighten her mood, making chris roll his eyes before pressing a gentle kiss to the girl's forehead, smiling against her skin as she keened into his touched.

walking backwards, he led her to her couch, falling back against the cushions, pulling her on top of him as he continued to rub her back, hoping to ease some of her stress.

"you're my favourite person, y'know that?" chris whispered as she laid her head on his chest, her fingers dancing along his bicep as they laid there.

"i am?"

"without a doubt."

CHASE TWO GIRLS, LOSE THE ONE

y/n hadn’t meant to pry and prod, but chris had grown distant lately, he was off around her and she was curious. so when his phone pinged while he was in the shower, she let her curiosity get the best of her. but she wished she hadn't as she read the notification that lit up his screen.

amelia

cmon chris, you know i'm the one you rly want

every time she re-read the girl's message, it chipped away at her heart. how could chris do this her? betrayed couldn't even begin to describe how she felt. as chris' screen faded to black, she heard the water shut and she couldn't be bothered to move. she didn't realize she was crying until chris was kneeling in front of her, gently wiping her tears.

"what's wrong y/n?"

"who's amelia?"

"wait what?" chris sputtered, her question sending shockwaves through this body as she stared at him, completely unsure of who was kneeling before her.

"who is she?"

"she's no one, baby i promise."

"tell me the truth, who is she, chris?"

"i met her the night we came home from that party and i've been seeing her occasionally since." he whispered, finding no use in lying to her as she sat there, her tears of sadness becoming tears of anger as she felt her hurt settle in her heart.

"get out."

"what?"

"get out. i'm done. we're done. i'm not going to sitting around while you chase some other girl."

BUT I KNEW YOU'D LINGER LIKE A TATTOO KISS // I KNEW YOU'D HAUNT ALL MY WHAT-IFS

for months following her breakup with chris, y/n had been a shell of who she used to be. she hadn't experienced the heartbreak he caused before in her life. it had left behind a different kind of hollow in her chest. a void that no one would fill.

no one except chris.

and for months, he lingered in her life. in the back of her mind as she walked down the streets they used to walk together. the ghost of his lips pressing against her temple every time she had a migraine. the feeling of his hand beneath her sweater, fingertips mindlessly drawing shapes the small of her back as she laid in bed. the smell of his cologne stubbornly sticking to her pillow cases on his side of the bed.

he was everywhere and she couldn't forget him. he was a ghost unable to move on as she felt swallowed and suffocated by her pain. she didn't know what to do and she couldn't take the after-shocks that his infidelity put her though.

he invaded every thought she had.

what if i'm not good enough?

what if was i enough for chris?

what if they cheat on me like chris did?

what if i can't move on?

what if chris is hurting too?

he was everywhere in her mind. he haunted every possible chance she had at moving past the pain she felt.

I KNEW YOU'D MISS ME ONCE THE THRILL EXPIRED, AND YOU'D BE STANDING IN MY FRONT PORCH LIGHT, I KNEW YOU'D COME BACK TO ME

y/n knew chris would come miss her once the thrill of being with amelia had faded. she wasn't someone chris could be with long time, from what she had been told by people knew her. she knew he'd come back, he made a promise that he'd find his way back to her as he walked out of her house that night.

but as she pulled into her driveway, she found him standing under her porch light, his hair sticking to his forehead as the rain fell against it. sighing, she got out of her car, the door slamming shut behind her as she stood there.

"chris."

"i miss you."

"no. you don't get to do this chris."

"listen please." he pleaded, watching as she looked up toward the sky for a moment, her eyes closed as her shoulders fell before looked back at him, nodding and crossing her arms.

"i know i fucked up. i made the wrong choice and put someone before you and i shouldn't have. i should've never gone for her. i had a good thing going and i completely fucked it up."

"chris you need to leave, please. i can't go through that kind of pain again."

"please give me one more chance. i'll do better."

"if i let myself forgive you, i won't be able to forgive myself. i will be subjecting myself to constantly worrying that i'll never be enough for you. i'll be walking on eggshells around you, scared to push you into the arms of another girl. i cannot put myself through that again. when i found out you cheated on me, it stripped me of everything i knew. i lost my sense of stability and sense of who i was. i became someone i didn't know, i was fucking destroyed chris. so no, i cannot let you back into my life because i would be betraying the promise i made myself."

"i'm so sorry y/n, i wish i could fix my mistakes but just know, that if i can ever be forgiven by you, i'll be waiting. i'll always wait for you and i'll always love you."

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kisskawa · 11 months

Text

— in love and war cw alcohol, intoxication, reader has bad friends and a loving ex

oikawa’s already frowning when he pulls up next to you, hazard lights highlighting your face in blinking orange. the apples of your cheeks seem softer in this light, bunching together and causing your eyes to curve into happy crescents as his name tumbles easily from your lips.

“why are you by yourself?” oikawa demands as he nears you, outstretched hand meeting yours.

“‘m not,” you grin at the contact, letting yourself tiptoe closer to oikawa until you’re leaning against his chest. “my friends are over there,” you point up the road where oikawa can only just make out a gaggle of people, “see?”

a hand sits on your shoulder, heavy and grounding and serious. you look awfully pleased under its warmth. “why aren’t they with you?”

you look up at oikawa with a thoughtful hum, genuinely trying to remember as your brows furrow. “didn’t want to be with them,” you exhale, shrugging. your friends have never been as kind as they should be, you know oikawa doesn’t like them. you lighten up again, “’sides, was waiting for you.”

it feels like a punch to the stomach when oikawa shakes his head at you. and suddenly aching, you let him tug you back to his car and settle you in, having precariously parked in all his concern.

the drive back is quiet, nothing more than the mindless rattling of a late night radio host and the gentle purr of the engine. oikawa can feel you staring at him, trying to gage whether or not he’s mad at you.

the passing streetlights make your head swirl, a little dizzier than out in the street where fresh air filled your lungs. but you’re not alone now, and the leather seats of oikawa’s car are worn and familiar. your fingers run across the thick stitches and you use them as markers to count the flickers of orange that dance across oikawa’s face one by one. they make him look handsome, drawing long shadows across his sharp features and warming his eyes.

by the time oikawa’s pulled in, you’ve fallen asleep, chin tucked into your chest with your last thought being the driver beside you. it could’ve been worse, oikawa muses, you could’ve been sick.

he allows himself a moment. a sliver of peace to watch the way your chest rises and falls, air punctuated only by soft exhales. you really did look pretty, routine of dressing up for a night out long since perfected. oikawa can’t forget the way you’d shone when you’d caught sight of him. he leaves the car before the thought can stick any longer.

he’s only away for a split second, rounding the bonnet to get to you. the door opens and suddenly he’s surrounding you, leaning close to pull at the seatbelt, fresh linen and vanilla.

oikawa freezes when your fingers curl around his wrist. “i miss you,” you murmur. his heart stutters painfully.

you half think you’ve imagined the mumbled confession, oikawa continuing to work at the seatbelt until you’re free and easing yourself into his arms. you stumble a little as you get out the car, it’s ok, oikawa’s got you.

“let’s go inside first,” he finally responds, voice taut.

oikawa’s flat is just as you remember, down to every last detail. the framed picture of his high school volleyball club that greets you at the door, and the blue umbrella that he never remembers to take by the shoe rack. the slightly wonky kitchen cupboard door that houses mismatched mugs collected over the years, and the blanket you’d made together on the arm of the sofa, his fabric intertwined with yours. knowing it all like the back of your hand, you walk a familiar path to his room.

“i miss you,” you repeat, firmer this time as you perch on the end of his bed, trying hard not to get overwhelmed by the comfort of his sheets. it’s so much stronger here, fresh linen, vanilla and the faintest touch of the ocean air.

oikawa shuts his eyes, “you’re drunk.”

“i’m not,” it’s true, you’d sobered up quickly on the ride back, “i had a few drinks but i’m not drunk. i mean what i said, i swear i wouldn’t lie to you.” you wouldn’t be this coherent drunk. and under the effects of alcohol, you’d never approach such a serious topic as you and tooru like this. you both know that.

“i know you wouldn’t, but you’ve still drank, you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t. and i can’t listen to you say you miss me when i can’t tell you how i feel in return, knowing your head’s all hazy and your judgement’s wrong.”

your fingers wind in oikawa’s sheets. “you don’t have to believe me right now, i’ll tell you in the morning and every day after if that’s what it takes. but you can tell me,” you urge, “you can tell me anything.”

the floodgates open.

“you can’t keep doing this. you can’t keep calling me and asking me to pick you up, because you know i will, you know i care,” oikawa’s voice is low, defeated, as it expels the truth, “it’s not fair.”

the wobble in his words makes your heart hurt and you rub at your chest, hoping the pressure will ease some of the pain. it doesn’t. instead, it comes out in your response, more unfair than anything, “i only ever call you, i only ever want you. and it’s the same reason why you still care.”

a call of your name shuts you up, sternness stopping you in your tracks. oikawa’s never once said your name like this, always honeyed and warm and fond. the ache swells.

you crawl into bed, pulling the covers up tight to your neck and trying to hide the glassiness in your eyes. you wouldn’t cry, you couldn’t cry. oikawa was right, it wasn’t fair. because you had broken things off, you hadn’t been able to deal with the drowning comfort of oikawa’s love, and yet, you were the one calling him when you needed someone to rely on. each and every time. “’m sorry,” you whisper, the thickness in your voice comes through anyway.

“i know,” oikawa sighs, tucking in next to you, one hand around your waist and the other running through your hair, the position you’ve always liked, “i’m sorry too.”

when oikawa wakes in the morning, the glass he left on the bedside table is empty and a single painkiller has been punched out of the foil packet. the bed too is cold, a collection of wrinkled sheets and pooling blankets. your presence in the room is barely there, only evident by a trail of absences.

oikawa curls up, bed suddenly too big, too lonely, as he tugs the duvet up and over his head. he lies there for a long time, a lump as he reprimands himself. it was true, what he said last night - this wasn’t fair, he couldn’t keep doing this routine. and yet, he couldn’t do anything but care for you, its like he was programmed to. you can’t keep waiting forever, his brain commands and the twinge in his heart pulls his knees closer to his chest.

“oikawa?” the gentle call of his name forces him out from his mind and underneath the covers. his head pokes out from the duvet, brown hair messy and eyes bleary. you notice the downturn of his lips first at the sound of his surname on your tongue. it seems clunky, awkward.

your stomach churns and your hands grip cruelly at the cup inbetween your hands. it’s coffee, half milk with two heaps of sugar and caramel syrup. not the way you like it at all. you hold it out and oikawa’s kind not to mention the tiny tremble of your arms. “if you’ll let me, i owe you something,” you pause, “i miss you, tooru.”

tooru beams. not forever at all.

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