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#this show is so slept on I swear to god
solalasoforth · 1 year
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hysterical to me that the wider tumblr community suddenly pats themselves on the back for "rediscovering" cult classic goncharov (1973) when the primo nizzuto/trust girlies have been talking about the movie as a foundational reference for the show for literal years at this point. like y'all are so late but welcome to the party I guess
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swordsmans · 8 months
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CON CRUNCH IS REAL I THINK IM GONNA JUST START HOT GLUING SHIT TOGETHER TONIGHT FUCK IT WE BALL!!!!!!!
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5oclock in the morning about to watch Past Prologue for the very first time let’s fucking Go 
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holographicbutch · 1 year
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I am simply going to die
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triptuckers · 3 months
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on the bottom of the lake - percy jackson
Request: yes! "I love ur writing!! could you write something w Percy helping anxious reader?? I’ve been super stressed lately and idk this show is keeping me sane lmao" Pairing:  Percy Jackson x reader Summary:  you've been stressed and percy knows the perfect way to help you relax Warnings:  reader being stressed, some swearing, anxiety Word count:  917 A/N: I drew so many pjo characters yesterday I cant wait to share them when I'm done with them :) thanks for your request, enjoy!
you don't know if you've ever felt like this. sure, you'd been stressed before. but now you're losing sleep over it. and not a few hours, just nights without zero sleep at all.
you've got a big project you need to do for school over the summer. if you call, it'll be your last strike and you'd be expelled. like it was your fault you had trouble reading and concentrating.
when you arrived at camp half-blood at the start of summer, you thought some of your worries would go away.
the opposite happened.
you saw everyone around you having a good time. they didn't have to worry about some project. they slept peacefully from night til morning.
even if you can't work on your project, you're constantly thinking about it. your mind never rests.
percy noticed you've been stressed and tries to talk to you about it, but you always shut him down. it's enough to think about it all the time, let alone talk about it.
after a couple of days, percy tries again. he really wants to help you, but he don't know why.
'hey, y/n?' says percy.
'what's up?' you say, looking up at him. you're supposed to help your cabin prepare for tonight's bonfire, but so far you're not helping much.
'about your project-'
'gods, will you leave it alone, percy!' you burst out. 'I think about that fucking project all day don't you start about it as well!'
percy takes a step back and you realise it's because of you.
'I'm sorry! sorry!' you say, getting up and grabbing one of his hands. 'I'm so sorry I didn't mean it.'
you feel tears slowly starting to fall.
'hey, it's okay.' says percy softly. he reaches up and brushes a tear from your cheek. 'want to go to the lake for a while?'
you nod. percy leads you to the lake. you close your eyes and let the breeze calm you down. but still the project is on your mind. if you go to your cabin now, you could get some work done.
percy tugs on your hand and you open your eyes to look at him.
'get in.' he says, nodding his head toward the lake.
'now?'
percy nods.
'percy, I don't want to go swimming right now.'
'do you trust me?'
'of course.'
'then get in.'
you sigh. what did you have to lose? maybe a swim would be nice.
'let me get my bathing suit.' you say.
'nope.' says percy, pulling you by your hand as he jumps in the lake. before you can stop him, you're pulled forward by his momentum. seconds later, the water surrounds you.
you want to yell at him for getting your clothes soaked, but you remember you're under water. once you get your bearings, you open your eyes, letting them get accustomed to the water.
you try to swim to the surface, but percy still holds on to your hand and pulls you further down, all the way to the bottom of the lake.
good for him, he's a poseidon kid. you aren't. you can't breathe underwater. surely percy knows that right?
he lets go of you hands and swims to the bottom of the lake.
you're going to have to go up for air soon.
you can see percy sitting down on the ocean floor, gesturing at you to join him. you squint your eyes. it looks like the water is less murky down there.
you let yourself sink down to percy's level. the water is less murky here because there is no water here.
'I didn't know you could do this.' you say, looking around the air bubble you're in.
'pretty cool, right?' says percy, smiling proudly.
'why are we here?'
'I mostly come here when I need to be alone. if you sit here in silence for a while, the fish will come up to you. and I always thought the waves are soothing to look at from down here.'
you look up and watch the waves for a while. sunlight pours through the water, giving it a soft glow.
you move closer to percy and rest your head on his shoulder.
the two of you sit there for a while. and percy was right. after some time, fish start to swim around your bubble.
percy tells you about the lake and the animals and after a while even two water nymphs come to say hello. percy knows them and introduces you to them.
you sit there for so long you lose track of time. it's getting late, so you decide to swim up to the surface.
normally you would have been soaked, but thanks to percy you're warm and dry.
you stifle a yawn as percy takes your hand in his and starts walking towards the cabins.
'thank you, that was nice.' you say.
'one of the bonuses of dating a poseidon kid.' says percy, lightly squeezing your hand.
he notices you hadn't talked about your project at all when you were in the lake. and you look genuinely tired. he hopes you can get at least one good nights sleep tonight.
'want to stay at my cabin tonight?' he says.
you smile and nod. 'yeah I'd like that.'
the two of you head to percy's cabin to get some sleep. and percy had been right, you got a good night of uninterrupted sleep. you dreamt of nothing but the comfort of the lake, and percy's presence next to you.
A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit
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velvetstreets · 6 months
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Something where Jack and the reader have a great sex life but the reader isn’t nearly as experienced as him and gets insecure sometimes and Jack reassures her - doesn’t have to be exact but something along those lines pretty please :))
None of the people in my writings portray the actual people I write about! It’s all a work of fiction, I have no idea how they are/act irl.
Warnings: fluff, smut, fingering (f!recieving) penetrative sex (f!receiving), swearing,
“Hey. Please don’t do that. Cmon’, talk to me baby..” Jack dipped his head down to meet your eyes, having tucked your chin into your neck, embarrassed.
You huffed, throwing your self back into the bed, throwing your hands over your face as you groaned.
Jack gently curled his hands around your wrists, pulling your hands from your face so he could look at you.
“Y’gonna tell me what’s wrong? Or am I gonna have to get it out of you another way…” he trailed off, a smirk forming on his face.
“Jack… don’t-“ you warned him, but it was too late.
Jack’s fingers dug into your skin, tickling you everywhere as you gasped and erupted in giant laughs and giggles.
“Jack!”
“Y/N!” He copied you with a sly grin.
“Fuck off!” You giggled loudly, squirming in his grip.
“Tell me what’s wrong!” He countered, smiling as he continued his tickle attack on you.
“Fine, FINE!” You gasped for air as he let up.
He laid in between your legs, chin on your tummy as you regained your breath.
“I just- hnnnnggg,” you groaned as your threw your arms over your face.
Jack waited patiently, giving a reassuring rub and peck against your tummy.
“I just feel so… inexperienced compared to you. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I just- I- I want it to be good for you too. I just- yeah, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing and I feel dumb.” You huffed your confession, arms still over your face.
“Y/N,” Jack shuffled up and removed your arms from your face, his hands cupping your cheeks, forcing you to look at him.
“Every moment with you is good for me, it's fucking great for me. Yeah our experiences aren’t the same, but they aren’t supposed to be. Nobody’s is,” he said caressing your cheek.
“And none of that shit matters anyways. Doesn’t matter if you’ve slept with 50 people or 5 or none at all. Just because I may have technically been with more people-“ he said raising his hands to do air quotes. “Doesn’t mean that this isn’t new to me too. I mean fuck-, d’you have any idea the effect you have on me?” He questioned, leaning to plant kisses along your jaw.
“M’always afraid I’m gonna bust too quick every time you let out one of those sweet little sighs,” he mouthed at your neck.
“Or that m’not doing enough to get you there, that I’m not gonna be able to make you feel as fuckin’ deliciously insane as you make me feel when you tighten around me-“ he groaned, grinding his hips into yours; a thumb reaching down to erotically swipe at your nipple.
You let out a pleasant sigh which turned into a whine, your hand threading through his hair to tug on, resulting in a deep groan from Jack.
“Fuck baby,” Jack’s mouth found yours, desperate to feel your soft lips against his, to meld together and never separate. God he could kiss you for hours upon hours. The way he melted into you was euphoria, why would he ever wanna be anywhere else, with anyone else?
Jack's hands were practically shaking, he was electrified by your soft gasps and touch, he couldn't wait to show you what you meant to him.
"Y'make me feel jittery, like I'm on a sugar high," he groaned, kissing your neck, and down to your chest. "And I wake up every day, and can't believe you're mine. I get to kiss you and hug you," he explained.
"And fuck you-" he mouthed at your lips as he rolled his hips against yours. You let out a moan, your hips reacting on their own accord, wanting to meet his delicious bulge again.
"Please..." you whispered.
"Hm? Please what, baby?" Jack teased; you felt his grin press into the crevice of your neck.
"Please, take care of me Jack. Want it... want you, bad." You struggled to form a cohesive sentence, his roaming hands and mouth and the roll of his hips into yours were driving you crazy.
"Yeah? My pretty girl's gonna let me take care of her? Let me fuck her how she deserves? Gonna let me make you cum?" He taunted you.
"Yes, yes, please Jack-" You nodded furiously, grasping at the fabric of his shirt, desperate to feel him.
"Okay, princess, I got you." Jack promised, kissing your soft lips.
His big hands swept under your shirt, slowly pushing it up your body, littering kisses all over your tummy and up your chest, before taking it off. Jack let out a groan of approval, kissing you again to calm his heart rate down a bit.
"Mmh-, Jack..." your brows slightly furrowed together, tugging at his shirt. Jack couldn't help but chuckle before tearing his own shirt off.
Your hands immediately went to his torso, palms sliding up from his tummy to his chest, exactly as he had done to you. You wet your lips, ogling his porcelain skin, his chest smattered with hair and freckles.
The two of you sat like that for a few seconds, just admiring eachother, nothing but soft pants of neediness filling the room
Jack leant down and pressed a few kisses to your lips and one to your nose - making you giggle, before he continued his plan of action. You lifted your hips so he could slip your shorts off easily, to which he pressed kisses to your pooch, and one to your clothed mound. Jack stood up momentarily, pulling his sweats off before climbing back over you.
He grinned, dimples digging into his cheeks as his eyes roamed over you. "So pretty..." he exhaled, his thumb rubbing over the skin right under your bra.
You weren't wearing anything special, just a simple black bra, with mismatched purple panties. But it didn't matter. None of those details that would've plagued your mind - whether it be your inexperience with sex, your mismatched underwear, if you shaved or not, stretch marks, the way your breasts looked, - none of them mattered. Jack loved them all, he looked at you like you were the sun.
"So fuckin' pretty, angel..." he spoke as if he was in a trance. "So good," he said as he settled in-between your legs, his nose tracing against yours. Jack slipped his hands behind your back, unclasping your bra and throwing it to the side, his grin digging deeper into his face as he was met with your breasts. He happily leant down to give them his undivided attention, kissing, licking, sucking. One thing about Jack, he loved toying with your nipples and clit, wanting to see and feel them grow hard against his touch. "So soft, all mine..." He groaned as they grew hard, causing his dick to do the same, and continued to mouth at your breasts. He left a few hickies against your chest in his wake, before moving on.
"So smart, so funny, so wet-" he said as he slipped two fingers under your panties and ran them through your folds, wetting them with your slick. Jack pulled his fingers back, now pressing the pads of his fingers against your swollen clit.
"Oh, fuck," you gasped, your back arching, chest pressing against his.
"I know baby, I know. Feels good, huh?" He panted.
"Y-Yeah- so good," you sighed.
"Yeah? And how 'bout now?" He asked before working his fingers into your wet swollen pussy.
"Oh, god-" you whimpered, your eyes squeezing shut in pleasure as he began to pump into you. Jack kept his thumb on your clit, pressing hard against the little nub every time he thrusted into you.
"Fuck, Jack- I'm gonna-" you gasped as the pads of his fingers tapped against that spot in you, your pussy contracting around him.
"C'mon baby, you got it, take what you need mamas-" Jack encouraged you, unable to keep his hips from writhing against the mattress as he watched you tip over the edge of your orgasm.
Your insecurities and worries melted away as you let the euphoric pleasure wash over you. Jack slowed his thrusts, until stopping them completely as he witnessed you sink into the mattress. He gave you a moment to calm down, before he pulled his fingers out and started to place kisses all over your face.
You shivered, grinning as you pressed your face into his neck, wanting to be as close as possible.
"Y'alright?" He asked, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you so you now laid on top of him, and he laid on his back.
"Mhm, the best." You nodded as he held you. And although he gave you a phenomenal orgasm, you couldn't help but want more; and you knew he did too by the hard outline of his dick through his black briefs, but you knew he wouldn't do anything until you initiated it. So you did.
You angled his face towards yours, bringing him in for a hungry kiss, making him sharply inhale.
"Need more." You whined against his mouth.
"Yeah? My baby needs more?" Jack grinned.
You nodded before you slid your panties off, and tugged his briefs after he nodded at you.
His dick was always a sight to see. Big but not intimidating, and girthy. You couldn't help but drool a bit as you watched his sticky cock blurted out a few drops of pre-cum.
You licked at his head, earning a hiss from Jack, and you smiled; loving the reassuring feeling that he loved this as much as you did. You wrapped a hand around him, jerking his cock a few times, making Jack grunt, eyes shut and brows furrowed as you lapped at him a few times.
"B-Baby, please- not gonna last if you keep, fuck-" he groaned as you swirled your tongue around his head.
"Sorry-" you giggled before moving up to straddle his hips.
"Don't be. Just wanna cum when I'm in you." he said panting as his hands rested on your hips.
"Well, you technically were," you grinned at him cockily.
"You know what I mea- oh fuck," he moaned as you sank down onto him.
You started to grind your hips against his, working him into you more until he reached the hilt. Your arousal seeped through you, drenching his cock with you, creating a nice sticky mess against his trimmed pubes, matting them together. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone, making you throw your head back as your palms found home on his broad chest.
"Wait, wait-" you heard him say, his hands stilling your hips.
He pulled out momentarily, and flipped the two of you over, so you were on your back.
"M'supposed to be taking care of you, remember?" He smirked, planting a kiss to your lips.
Jack sat back on his haunches, dick in his hand as his jerked his cock a few times, leaning over and tapping the head at your clit and sliding the length of his cock through your folds, but not fully putting it in yet.
"She wants me real bad, huh?" Jack teased, loving how he'd almost slip into you, and then pull out and keep pressing against your slick folds.
You let out a frustrated whine, and Jack chuckled. He finally slipped the head past your entrance, slowly thrusting into your sopping pussy.
"Fuck, fuck, so warm and tight- fuckin' hell," he exhaled, nuzzling his face into your neck as he held himself up by his forearms.
Jack started to snap his hips a little faster as he felt you relax, his tip kissing your core, making you cry out as you held him closer to you.
"Jack, oh my fucking god!" You whined, threading one of your hands into his curly locks, tugging on them every time he thrusted.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you gasped, hips trying to meet his as he fucked you.
"Good girl- good fuckin' girl, taking this dick so well," Jack muttered in your ear, mouthing at your jaw as a thumb snuck inbetween the two of you to rub at your clit.
"shitshitshit, keep doing that, fuck-" you cried out. All your senses were on ten; you felt him everywhere, it made you dizzy in the best way. You felt your wetness becoming messy, dripping down between your cheeks, as it made Jack's glide smoother.
Neither of you had the ability to form a cohesive sentence anymore, only communicating through grunts, whines and moans.
You were close, the tight rope in your tummy reaching the last of its elasticity, about to snap at any moment. Jack felt it too, the way your walls hugged him only made his balls tighter, and he felt how full they were as they slapped against your ass.
"Shit puppy, not gonna last much longer-" Jack uttered into your neck.
"Cum in me, Jack, I need it," you panted.
You felt him nod in your neck, snapping his hips faster and harder, both of you just kissing the peak of your orgasms. You came first, walls squeezing his thick cock in pulses, raking your nails down his back as you moaned.
The tightness of your pussy and the sound of you cumming drove Jack to his release. His hips stuttered as he gave three sharp final thrusts, emptying his release in you with loud breathy grunts.
You stayed like that for a few minutes, enjoying the gentle floaty feeling of your orgasms, and feeling his cum spill from you, down your ass and over your thighs. You squeezed your thighs around him once more, reveling in the feeling.
Instinctively, you raked your nails against his sweaty scalp, making his shiver and nuzzle closer against you as he let out a "mmmm".
Jack finally brought his face out from your neck, eyes hooded and dreamy, completely in love with you.
He smiled, messily kissing you, not wanting to move from the warm cocoon you two had made.
He was about to pull out, but you locked your legs around him tighter.
"No. Not yet. Stay like this, please?" you pleaded, not wanting him to be apart from you.
"Of course, whatever you want, smush." He kissed you once more, settling his head on your chest, his arms smoothing up your back, laying his full weight on you as he let out a deep satisfied sigh.
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Tag list: @hoodharlow @moody4world @lcandothisallday @harlowthot @triplexdoublex @thinkingaboutjharlow @bbyharlow @primadxna-girl @curlyhairclub @inluvwithladybug @babyharleezy @harlowcomehome @rebelxsun @jackharloww @harlowsbby @iknowdatsrightbih
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porcelaindoll-exe · 2 years
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☇ SECRET — E.M.
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— pairing ;Eddie Munson x Fem!Popular!Reader
— summary ;Y/N's convinced her boyfriend is embarrassed to be with her in public, why else would he want to keep their relationship a secret?
— warnings ;Fluff, Angst, Swearing, Season 4 content, Eddie and Reader misunderstanding each other.
— A/N ;I'm normally a slut for Steve Harrington, yet here I am, writing for my new favourite character. This is my first fic on tumblr, so feel free to leave a comment on how I did! Requests are open for any stranger things character, feel free to drop one! ♡
— word count ;3,089.
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You loved his hands.
No matter where they were, they always felt amazing, running through your hair or simply rubbing up the sides of your waist, it was as if they had been graced by god.
"G'morning, sweetheart."
Eddie's breath fanned against your neck as he shifted, pressing open mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin, his hands coming up to rub your stomach as pulled you closer.
"Morning, Eds.."
You mumbled back as you snuggled your back into his chest, his fluffy hair tickling at your cheek as he moved around, making sure to cover your entire neck with kisses.
"You slept well, right? I slept like a fucking baby."
Eddie chuckled, the vibrations against your skin sending shivers up your spine, your hands coming down to interlace your fingers with his.
"Yeah, I slept well... Your bed's way comfier than mine..."
You firmly believed that was a fact.
Even in the small dingy caravan he shared with his uncle, his room seemed like a safe space from the rest of the world.
A little isolated corner in Hawkins for the both of you to relax after school, away from everyone else and every problem you had.
You'd spend hours lying in bed in his arms, his face snuggled into your neck much like he was now, his warm hands roaming your body and finally resting on your breasts or stomach; some random vinyl that he had put on hours ago forgotten in the background.
It had been the first time you had actually slept overnight at his caravan, and it truly felt like heaven. His warm body encasing you as you slept, his light snores filling the room once he nodded off, the sounds the TV made from the living room mixing in pleasantly with his own noises.
Although you wished you could stay forever in his arms, feeling the cool air coming in through the window from behind the curtains, listening to his random thoughts and feeling his sweet kisses, you knew everything good had to end.
Eddie pulled his arms from around you, pressing one last kiss to your jaw before leaning up and stretching his arms into the air, making his shirt ride up and reveal his tummy, a yawn leaving his mouth once he had finished his obligatory morning stretches.
"Fuck... Wish I could stay longer here, sweetheart, but duty calls. Got a campaign to organise for tonight, the guys have been cheewing my ear off all week."
He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before getting up onto his feet and making his way to the bathroom, a faint "hey" coming from outside as he said hello to his uncle.
You shifted underneath the duvet (which smelt just like Eddie, although a bit more weed-ish than he did), looking up at the poster of Black Sabbath he had pinned to the wall right next to his bed, claiming that it was as if god looked down on him while he slept, when for you and everyone else it was just another rock poster among all the others.
As you heard the shower go on, you sighed, knowing that you should probably get up yourself, not wanting to intrude in his uncle's home more than you already had.
Even if he claimed that he didn't mind, that he was glad that Eddie had found someone and was actually going out more often due to you and his club, you couldn't help but feel nervous around the man, feeling as if you always overstayed your welcome.
He would embarrass Eddie in front of you, taking on the roll of the typical mother and showing you pictures of a small Eddie in baths or wearing sunglasses that were too big for his tiny head, the boy whining and complaining the whole time until he was able to pull you away from suffering even more embarrassment.
His uncle claimed that you two were like those cheesy couples he'd watch on late night TV, the picture of a perfect relationship.
Your relationship with Eddie was in fact perfect, everyone knew that.
Well, everyone would know that if you actually came out as a couple.
For some unknown reason, the first few dates you had had with him were done in secret, up on top of a hill at night or in his caravan after school.
You hadn't mentioned it at first, thinking maybe he was new to dating or that he simply felt more comfortable alone, which you of course weren't going to judge.
But you started to gain suspicion when he shot down your ideas of going out together to somewhere like Starcourt (when it was still up and running), or simply meeting up at school to have lunch together.
Then when you had finally started dating, he asked you to keep it a secret for a while until he was ready, but that 'while' quickly turned into half a year.
You loved Eddie, you really did. But sometimes you wondered... Did he love you the way you did? Was he embarrassed of you? Did he feel uncomfortable being around you when you were with other people?
Your thoughts were interrupted as Eddie came back in, his hair slightly damp from the condensation and a towel wrapped around his waist as he walked around the dimly lit room to try and find his clothes.
You smiled at the way he rummaged through that big pile of clothes on his chair, pulling away one of your bras in confusion before throwing it over his shoulder, continuing with his quest to find wearable clothes for that day.
"Here, let me-"
You pulled the curtains away from the window, rolling your eyes as Eddie hissed dramatically as the rays of the morning sun hit his skin, striking a vampire like pose with his arm covering half his face, stopping instantly as he saw your eye roll, watching you start to tidy up his bed.
"You're killing me here, babe."
He mumbled under his breath, grabbing his Hellfire shirt and slipping it on, turning away from you to pull down the towel and put some boxers and trousers on.
You couldn't help but sneak a peak at his ass as he leaned down to pick his clothes up, blushing bright red as he quickly shimmied into his jeans, finally noticing your stare when he turned his head around, smirking proudly before clapping his hands together and snapping you out of it, motioning to your discarded clothes on the floor.
"C'mon, you want a ride or not?"
You stopped as you leaned down to grab your bra, turning to look at him in confusion as you slowly moved to pick your underwear up.
"A ride?"
"Yeah, a ride, y'know, vroom vroom?"
He moved his hands as if he were holding a steering wheel, staring back at you with the same confusion written across his face.
"I- I know what a ride is, Eddie! I'm not stupid!"
"Then why are you acting like I just spoke russian?"
You blinked owlishly at him, forcing yourself to rip your stare away from him and back down to your clothes, fiddling with a loose string from your underwear that stuck out.
Truth be told, Eddie had never offered you a ride.
Well, that was a lie. You had been in his car million of times, whether it be to make out or to drive you to his house, but he had never once offered to take you to school.
He picked you up sometimes after your club had ended, when there were barely any people hanging around the school grounds, saying a brisk hello before latching onto your lips once the car doors were closed.
Even when you mentioned on the phone that you'd be walking to school from your house or that Robin and Steve were going to pick you up, he simply hummed and wished you a safe ride.
He never once volunteered himself to take you to school.
"Hey, love? You're not blacking out on me are you?"
His voice and his sudden touch on your shoulder made you turn around to look at him, his lips turned up into that goofy smile of his, fingers softly squeezing your shoulder to make sure you were okay.
"Yeah, yeah- It's just, you've never really driven me to school..."
Now it was Eddie's turn to look away, inhaling sharply and kissing his teeth, fiddling with one of the rings that he had accidentally left on while sleeping, the cool metal feeling nice against his warm fingers.
"I uh- I'm not going to make you walk all the way from here, am I?"
Eddie could be a dick sometimes, but he wouldn't go to the lengths of making you walk from the caravan park to Hawkins High while he drove there, he wasn't that type of guy.
Still, you couldn't help but feel guilty at the thought that maybe- just maybe, he felt obliged to giving you a ride simply because he would feel bad for making you go to school alone.
"I thought you were embarrassed of being with me..."
You suddenly muttered underneath your breath, Eddie almost getting whiplash from how quick he turned to look at you, his eyes blown out wide as his mouth opened and closed, much like a fish out of water would.
"Wh- Embarrassed? Of you? Never! Why would you-"
He tripped over his own words, hands moving around as he tried to articulate the words he couldn't find, and if you weren't in the middle of being upset, you would have found it quite endearing.
"You're embarrassed of being with me! That's why you want to keep this a secret, right?"
You said, trying your best to not let your voice crack, but it ended up being in vain, since you ended up sounding like a teen going through puberty.
His warm hands instantly found yours as he realised how upset you actually were, bringing them up to his lips and peppering kisses over your knuckles, muttering "no", over and over as he shook his head.
He couldn't believe what he was actually hearing.
Embarrassed? Of you?
You were one of the most, hell, scratch that; the most beautiful girl in Hawkins! Why would he be embarrassed of being around you?!
His kisses halted as he let go of your hands, looking down at you with a concerned look, his fingers coming up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, wiping away a few stray tears that had started to form with his knuckles.
"Why'd you think that? Why would I ever be embarrassed of you, darling? You're perfect..."
You looked away from his dark gaze, shrugging your shoulders, knowing that if you opened your mouth right then it would all come out messy, probably making the poor guy even more confused.
Yet, he deserved to know what you were thinking, right? That was how relationships worked.
You took a deep breath, turning your head to look back at him and finally spoke. "You always go on these rants about the popular kids being dicks, yet you spent like... Half a year making out with me... Even if I'm one of those so-called dicks."
Eddie's face softened, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks and nodded, egging you on to continue, letting you know that he would listen.
"You want to keep us a secret because you're worried that people will see you as a liar when they see you dating one of the people that you claim you hate."
You felt bad for saying all these things, but you couldn't help but finally get it off your chest, all those feelings that you had pushed down for his sake, scared that maybe he'd get angry at you for not respecting his wishes and dump you, even with the knowledge that Eddie wasn't like that.
He wasn't one of those dicks that went from girl to girl, not caring about their feeling nor the consequences of their actions. Eddie was nothing like them.
He was the sweetest person you had ever met, making sure you were always comfortable around him, that his antics never scared you, that you were okay whenever he saw you mildly tense... He even introduced you to his uncle, brought you to his caravan, let you into the deepest parts of his heart that he had always kept to himself.
You felt bad for unloading this onto him, but you couldn't just ignore it anymore, even if he broke up with you, he had to know how he was making you feel.
You take his calloused hands into yours, pulling them away from your now-red face and taking a step back, your arms crossing over your chest as you looked away as soon as you realised the tears you had tried your best to keep at bay were now freely running down your cheeks.
"Hey, hey, no!"
You felt his warm hands instantly land on your waist, pulling you towards him and letting you rest your head against his chest, a shaky breath leaving his mouth as he snuggled his face into your hair, sighing softly.
"I'm sorry, pretty girl... Of course I'm not embarrassed of you. Far fucking from it. I want nothing more than to drive into school with you every morning, hold your pretty lil' hand as we walk through the halls, eat lunch underneath the bleachers with you like in those silly rom-coms my uncle watches, I want nothing more than to be your boyfriend... A proper one."
He leaned back, allowing you to continue your hug as he brought his hands up to your face, smiling softly at the sight of your confused expression, finding the way you cocked your head to a side adorable.
His thumbs ran over the apple of your cheeks, the cool metal of his rings rubbing comfortably against your warm skin, a small part of you getting worried that maybe your tears would rust the cheap material.
"You, my beautiful girl, are the most amazing girl in Hawkins. I could never be embarrassed of you. I... Never meant for it to come off that way, I was stupid for even suggesting to keep this a secret."
"Then why did you?" You asked slowly, recognising the guilt written on his face as he tried to come up with an answer, your nails digging into the denim of his jacket.
"Cause I thought you would be the one who'd be embarrassed. Not me."
Huh?
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, making him groan and raise a hand to his face to cover his eyes, already having felt exposed enough, not ready for another wave of nerves to wash over him.
"What do you-"
"Fuck, look! You're - You're the most popular girl in Hawkins! Everyone wants you, fuck, I'm surprised Steve hasn't made a move on you yet, considering how much you hang out with each other!"
He cried out in exasperation, moving back as soon as you let go of his jacket and leaning on the wall of posters behind him, running his ringed fingers through his curly hair.
"I... Didn't want to ruin your reputation. If people realised you were dating someone like me, the fucking king of freaks, they'd label you as one too! I'm sure you've worked hard for your reputation... I can't just ruin that out of my own selfishness."
Your gaze softened as you noticed the way his fingers were nervously tapping against the wall, his other hand pulling and tugging at his locks as he looked everywhere but your face, clearly doing his best to not feel even more uncomfortable than he already was.
"You were doing it to protect me?"
"I mean- Protect your reputation more than anything. I didn't want you to get bullied like me or the Hellfire club, y'know? I didn't want to see my favourite person be put down simply because of going out with me. I didn't want to be the cause behind your friends leaving you-"
You interrupted him as you smiled, his eyes instantly darting towards you and cocking an eyebrow up in confusion.
"Is my meltdown amusing to you, Miss L/N?"
You gasped, shaking your head and trying to wipe the smile off, yet you couldn't help it at the realisation behind his words.
Eddie only wanted to protect you from being hurt by your friends.
He didn't hate you, he didn't feel embarrassed by you, fuck, he loved you!
"No, of course it's not, Mister Munson... I'm just... Shocked that- that's the actual reason."
Eddie chuckled, pushing himself forwards with his foot and walking up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and starting to sway you around.
"You actually thought it was because I was embarrassed? Oh, honey. You're the best fucking thing that's happened to me. Why in the world wouldn't I want you next to me?"
Your arms found their way around his neck, his thumbs softly rubbing circles on your waist as he slowly pulled you two around the room, what had began as an attempted hug, now having turned into some sort of weird waltz.
"Does that mean that I get to be your girlfriend? Officially?"
You'd never seen Eddie smile brighter than he did right then.
"Officially."
Your heart did flips as he spun you around, finally dipping you and dramatically pressing his lips to yours, lifting you back up before you could slip out of his grasp and smiling down at you.
"So about that ride..."
Dustin and Mike had seen weird, terrifying, hell even traumatic things... But nothing could have prepared them for the sight of you, one of the most popular girls in school, climbing out of Eddie's car in one of his jackets, his hand holding yours as he helped you out.
"Oh, dude, no, no, no."
"I think I'm going to puke-"
Dustin hurled as soon as he saw you press your lips to Eddie's, Mike's expression of horror being shared amongst most of the students of Hawkins High.
Everyone got the memo as soon as Eddie lifted his middle finger up, his other arm hooked around your waist as he buried his face into your neck, everyone turning around and trying to get back to their own conversations.
"You're so extra, Eds... You literally parked in middle of the field..."
"What can I say, honey? I love a dramatic entrance."
11K notes · View notes
ohcaptains · 7 months
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what if this is real?
pairing. ellie williams x female! reader
an. i'm gonna pretend that this isn't my first fic in six months and just move on...anyway. um. hi? i hope you enjoy -- not my usual filth. love u.
synopsis. it's the end of the world, but there's still parties to attend. or, the first kiss in yours and ellie's situationship.
warnings. kissing -- suggestive language and swearing. probably the most tame i've written in a hot min!
You’re standing in front of Ellie’s door, thinking, fuck this.
It would be easy to turn around and pretend that you’ve forgotten all about the party. You could pretend that you’d slept through the whole thing. Ignore the – eventual – banging on your door, and the husk of Ellie’s voice penetrating the wood, asking, Babe, you sleeping?
Your cold fingers reach down and tug at your rising skirt, and you think -- for the third time this night -- that you shouldn’t have worn this God damned outfit.
The alcohol you’d downed before trudging over here quiets that voice a little, but you’re always nervous around Ellie.
If you told her that, she’d scoff and laugh you off. It was true, though. She made you go all doe-eyed and dumb.
The thought of her complimenting you made you wear this silly outfit, and It was winter, for fucks sake.
You knock on her door, déjà vu washing over you. How many times have you stood, nervous, at Ellie’s door? You chew on your bottom lip, playing with the hem of your skirt still.
“Coming!” Ellie’s familiar cadence immediately hollers.
She fumbles around with something, and when she opens the door, she’s tugging a simple tank top over her muscular belly.
You briefly glance at her middle, eyes finding the faint lines of her abs.  
“Well don’t you look nice,” she teases.
When you eventually drag your eyes to her eyes, she’s giving you a once-over, a teasing beam on her pretty, freckled face.
As if to get a better look at your outfit, she pushes her loose auburn hair behind her ears.
Music floods through the open door – some shitty indie band she had a thing for – but all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears from her previous compliment.
It wasn’t all that great– she’d said you had looked nice – but that, plus the interest in her green eyes as she examines you, has your belly swirling.
Ellie steps back to get a better look. She licks the corner of her mouth and nods to you. “Twirl for me.”
Your eyes automatically roll, but you listen anyway -- hands out at your waist, you do a little slow twirl. Ellie whistles low.
When you face her again, she’s leaning against the door frame, muscular arms crossed over her chest and grinning cockily. “Oh yeah, putting on a show for me.” “Shut up – are you coming?” you ask, ignoring the heat that finds you and jabbing a thumb behind you.
Ellie drags her eyes away from the cut of your skirt, glancing into the distance. She nods as if she’s just remembered. As she nods, small bits of hair flutter onto her broad shoulders.
Her white tank is damp, too, with small patches of water staining the fabric.  
“Oh yeah, I just got distracted. My hair was touching my shoulders weird, so I’m trying to cut it but I think I’ve fucked up the back.”
Trust Ellie to get that distracted and take up such a monumental task before a party. You motion for her to turn.
“Twirl for me.”
Begrudgingly, she does, managing to roll her eyes.
“Oh my god,” you suddenly gasp, hands flying to your mouth, “what have you done?”
Ellie spins, grabbing the back of her head in a panic.
“What?” she asks, green eyes wide. Just as quick as you put the act on, you drop it with a shrug. “It’s fine, just slightly uneven.”  
“You’re an asshole, get in here.”
She grabs your hand and yanks you in, closing the door behind you. The speed makes you dizzy, so you grab a hold of her shoulders, trying to steady yourself.
“Whoa – gimmie a minute,” you whisper, trying to blink the world back into the frame.
Ellie immediately bends to look at you, confused.
There’s a beat where she’s concerned, and she gives you another once over, trying to see if there’s anything physically wrong. “The fuck is wrong with you?” she asks, nervous laughter bubbling out of her lips. “I’m –” you start to admit, blinking the fuzz away. Ellie watches you put your forefinger and thumb together, squinting, explaining that you’re, “– slightly drunk,” and she frowns, her face hard, waiting for you to explain further. “I’m wearing a skirt,” you simply state, and her frown deepens, mouth quirking to the side. She glances down, eyeing the short fabric.
“I noticed,” she bleats. “And I needed a little liquid courage…” you let out an exasperated sigh, shaking your head at yourself. “Neil’s homemade wine is no joke.” “Okay, sit down,” Ellie orders.
She begins to walk towards you, using her body to edge you closer to her bed, and you frown, asking, “What?” but still, you move with her. You try and explain that “I’m fine,” but Ellie just shakes her head, “Sit down, before you fall down.”
She can’t be serious. She’s seen me drunk before…worse than this. “El- “you begin, and her face tenses, no more fun Ellie. Her hard tone is unwavering as she asks, “Do I have to pick you up and sit you down myself?”
Your eyes widen, and there’s a beat of silence where your body reacts to her words.
Holy shit, you think, cheeks going hot. You have to laugh to hide it – have you push your thighs together.
The fuck was that?
“Ooo, okay,” you scoff, hands up, brows wiggling, and you let Ellie finish walking you to her unmade bed. You bounce onto the mattress, hands in your lap obediently.
The desire to explain hits you again, and you push at the mattress, saying, “Ellie, seriously, I’m fine.”
It’s a lie – every time you twist your head, the world turns – and the sudden concern from her is slightly overwhelming, if not embarrassing.
Still, she ignores your comment and walks to the sink, pouring you a glass of water, and then she grabs something from a wooden box. She thrusts both into your hands. “A bran muffin?” you question, staring at the lopsided baked good. Ellie pushes the glass to your face, and you glance up at her over the rim.
Her jaw is tense with unease, and her shoulders are rolled back, heavy with responsibility.
When you don’t move, she leans down, and her face is blurry, hand blurry, as you see the side of it before she taps your cheek softly.   “Drink and eat – I’m gonna finish my hair.”
Then she turns to the bathroom, and you watch her muscular back disappear.
90’s indie pours into her little apartment, and you sit, dumbfounded at what has just happened.
You diligently sip at the water.
Ellie is always a little hot-headed, and yeah, when you mucked about on runs, she’d snap into leader mode, but the alcohol, threaded with the warmth of her apartment, your nerves, and the bare skin of her neck and arms – the slither of skin between her belt and hem of her top – have you befuddled.
She’d slipped into protective mode so quickly.
Was a little mean about it too.
You lay back on her bed, pulling the hem of your skirt down to try and cover your bare thighs, and frown at her ceiling, munching on the muffin.
Come to think of it, Ellie had been odd these last couple of weeks.
Your usual flirtatious banter has been edged with something else, and she was glancing at you more often – ushering you in front of her on runs, so she could watch your back. Pulling you behind her all the same.
Do I have to pick you up and sit you down myself?
You sip at the water and nibble on the muffin. Mindlessly rub circles into your lower thigh, thinking about the way she crooked her scarred brow and the hardness of her features.
Challenge me, I dare you.
Ellie always took a lot on, and she has been stressed more than usual recently, but she didn’t have to be a dick about it.
You push your bottom lip out, thinking at the ceiling. You think about her though, and something sickly sweet still swirls in your belly.
It makes your cheeks heat, and you blink away the sudden fever, clenching your eyes closed.
You manage to finish the water and the muffin, but your belly still feels funny. Hands are clammy, skin prickly.
Maybe you’re drunker than you thought.
You decide to get more water.
As you get to her kitchenette, she glances at you from the bathroom beside it.
“You okay?” she asks, and you turn to her. She’s mid-chop, the scissors loosely sitting in her grip. She’s also taken her top off. Now donning only her bra and jeans, the swirl in your belly doubles.
The sight is not uncommon for you, but you find it hard to be angry at her when she’s half-naked.
There’s a light dusting of loose auburn hair on her shoulders, and she drops the scissors, reaching up to run her fingers through her hair.
You glance down at her chest, seeing the faint muscles flex as she stretches. Her jeans hang low around her hips, and it’s only then that you notice they’re unbuttoned.
How hadn’t you noticed that before?
“Babe?” “Hm?” you hum, snapping back to her. She’s wearing a bold smile. Your throat constricts. “I asked if you were okay.” “Oh –” you start, quickly turning to the sink. You pour more water, shaking your head. You remember where you are. Remember what’s happening.
“No,” you start, crossing your arms under your chest, “you were mean.” Ellie pauses. When you turn back to her, there’s an amused smile on her face, “Mean?” she asks, “Yeah – “you firmly jut, sipping your water. “I’m not a child Ellie.” Ellie mimics your stroppy face and puts her arms under her chest, too.
You risk a glance at her chest and see that her nipples are hard, peaking through the soft fabric of her bra.
Fuck. You snap back to her face.
“What do you mean?” she questions, cocking her head to the side. She begins to sway towards you, and you don’t move as she comes to rest in front of you – your back to the kitchen counter. There’s a second where your brain short-circuits. You forget that you’re meant to be mad at her. Her long fingers reach up, and you glance at her hand, breath caught in your throat. She smooths your hair behind your ear, inches away, “You’re my wittle baby.”
“You’re annoying,” you quickly groan, trying to suppress your smile as you turn to put the glass in the sink.
Ellie groans, “Ughhhh, I know I know, I’m awful—” and reaches around to take the empty glass from you and put it in the sink.
You stare at it. You could have done that. You were about to do that.
 She takes your hand, turning you to face her again.
“Come help me with the back.”
Your intertwined hands rest between you, pushing against your bare thigh.
Ignoring it seems like the wisest path. “Why should I?” you quirk, a faux frown on your face.
She’d put your glass in the sink. She’d taken the glass out of your hand and put it in the sink for you. Ellie pouts, pushing her bottom lip out, and she leans her full body weight on you, hips flush against yours, suddenly so close as she whispers, “You don’t want me to look pretty?”
Your belly flips. The smell of her, citrusy and damp, floods your nostrils, and you try to blink away the sudden dizziness that threatens to wash over you.
It’s then that you realise you’re not all that drunk anymore.
It’s just Ellie.
Your eyes flick down to her lips.
You trace the pink of them, focusing on the little cut she’s got there from chewing nervously. The air is suddenly thicker – all-consuming, and on your belly, you feel the brush of the button on Ellie’s jeans.
Warmth blooms, confusing and sudden.
Ellie’s silent. Looking up at her, you find that she’s studying you, too. Lavish green bathes you and you feel her unlock her hand from yours, pushing them onto the countertop on either side of your hips. The movement forces her closer, and you instinctually lean back, gasping as she follows you, forehead against yours.
You grab the back of her neck to stabilise yourself.
Her hands have moved to hold your hips.
There’s a fleeting second where you think she’s going to kiss you, but she instead brushes her nose against yours, and your mouth opens, a small hush of breath escaping.
Whatever this is, it’s never happened before. This is uncharted territory.
Your fingers stuff into her loose auburn strands, and you look down at where your body connects, seeing the tops of her breasts in the fabric bra. Her hardened nipples push at the cotton.
You drag your lips together, inhaling a shaky breath.
Looking back to Ellie, she’s watching you watch her. A small, crooked smile has absorbed her lips, and her cheeks are flushed pink, warm under your curious gaze.
She looks at your mouth, pushes her forehead against yours again, and inhales deeply, exhaling as she whispers, “Really wanna kiss you.”
Your heart picks up speed, the beat of it making your skin prickle -- your fingers numb.
A nervous panic finds you, and words fail as Ellie lazily gazes at your lips.
Your fingers move in her hair, cradling the back of her head, and, “Kiss me, then,” you whisper.
You barely see Ellie’s fleeting smile before she’s moving to press her lips to yours.
Her touch is tentative. Nervous, as she thumbs your hips, soft lips brushing against yours. Your eyes flutter closed, leaning into her mouth, and Ellie hums, the sound of it echoing through your body.
She pulls away for a second – maybe to centre herself - but you come back, excitedly brushing your tongue over her lips before kissing her, swallowing the surprised groan she emits.
Her hands tighten on your hips, while yours come to clutch the back of her head again. She tastes warm and new, the feeling unfamiliar, but you quickly become accustomed to it as she tongues her way into your mouth, body pressing tight against yours.
Heat consumes, warm and sudden.
For a fleeting second, you think, I’m kissing my best friend, but the thought is pushed away as Ellie’s hands greedily push behind you, flattening against your ass.
A gasp flutters out of your mouth, followed by an immediate swirl in your belly.
You move your hand, massaging the muscular side of her stomach. The kiss picks up as your hands move, your thumb running over the band of her bra.
Ellie whispers your name, desperate and breathy, and suddenly, it’s all too real -- you pull away.
Your eyes flutter open, and you swallow a gasp.
“We’re going to be late,” you rush, hand flattening on her stomach. Ellie takes a minute to collect herself. You can’t look at her as she watches you, emotions a whirlwind.
Eventually, her breathing settles. “Shit, yeah. The party,” she whispers, and she pulls back, hands leaving your body, the heat dispersing. She itches the back of her neck, nervously looking around. “Er – fuck. Lemme put a shirt on,” and as she looks for one, you lean against the counter, head hung back as you silently curse at the ceiling.
The walk to the party is silent.
Ellie – bless her heart – keeps a tight grip on your hand, thinking you’re still tipsy, but the alcohol has faded from your veins, replaced by a thicker, more visceral intoxication.
The touch of her is maddening.
You try and keep up, but your brain is foggy, and you’ve suddenly forgotten the way to the Tipsy Bison.
Ellie’s hand in yours is like a homing beacon.
Really wanna kiss you.
That’s what she’d said, right? The tenor of her voice consumes your mind, followed by the taste of her, and the slow-building desperation as she pulled you against her.
You hear the reverberating sound of her quick breathing as the bar comes into view, bright lights pouring out of its windows.
When Ellie pushes the door open, she drops your hand.
“Look who decided to finally show up!” Jesse hollers when he sees you. A hot acid shoots through your chest.
“I’m gonna get a drink,” you mumble, pulling away. Ellie glances at you, eyes sombre, and you think she’s about to say something, but no words make it out. “What’d I miss?” you hear Jesse ask. You clench your hand together. Really wanna kiss you.
Of course, Joel is behind the bar. His smile is welcoming and warm as he takes you in.
“Fashionably late?” he quirks as you lean against the wood.
“Er, yeah. Something like that,” you mumble, then motion behind you.
“Your girl always has the best timing.” Joel squints. He flicks his curious gaze between you and Ellie, noting the way she’s watching you, and his mouth twists, teasing. “I think you mean your girl.”
“What?” you snap, head craning to Joel. His smile widens. Panic blooms again. “She say something?” you rattle, not bothering to hide the eagerness in your tone, and Joel shakes his head, pouring you a drink. He pours two, and slides them to you, “Not a word.”
The night passes in a blur. You spend most of it with Claire from the Kitchen, ignoring the burn at the back of your neck from Ellie’s eyes.
It doesn’t matter where you scamper off too – her gaze always finds you, searing a hole in your spine.
At one point, Claire cuts you off mid-sentence, “Sorry, Ellie’s looking at me weird.” “What?” you ask, turning immediately. You find the green-eyed girl staring, and when you glance at her, she quickly snaps away, almost flinching. With a sigh, you turn back to Claire.
“It’s not you – it’s me. It’s—” you shake your head, “—a long story.” “Well, maybe you can explain later because she’s coming our way.” You twist, and sure enough, Ellie is pushing through the crowd, half-full drink in hand. When she looks at you, she takes a sip, as if she needs the liquid courage.
Quickly, she’s inches away, and you smell the musky citrusy warmth of her. Take in her frame from your seat in the booth. Really wanna kiss you.
Her eyes find you, and they’re glazed from what looks like whiskey in her tumbler.  “Um. Can we talk? Please,” then, “Hi Claire.”
Claire waves. There’s a beat of silence where you just look at Ellie – your friend, Ellie, who you just kissed – and you find that you’re rooted to the spot.
You don’t want to talk about it.
Don’t want to talk about how dizzy she made you feel, how you’d begged for more, reaching for the warmth of her lips as you dragged your hands over her narrow body.
Kiss me then.
When you don’t move, Ellie’s features freeze, and there’s fear there – please. Please talk to me.
You begin to slide out. Put on a front for Claire who is looking between the pair of you, perplexed. “Yeah, sure Els. Sorry, Claire, I’ll find you, okay?” Ellie holds a hand out for you to hold, but she pulls it back, scornful of the instinct. Shame, as you were about to grab it.  
When you get out of the Tipsy Bison, you realise that the temperature has dropped rapidly.
You’re about to comment on the weather, but Ellie is turning, suddenly, stopping near the notice board and holding her hands up.
“I’m sorry,” she spits, the apology loud in the chilly air.
There’s no one around. They’re all either in bed or at the party, and the empty streets of Jackson make her apology more real, almost – just the two of you.
Music bleeds through the wood, swirling between the pair of you.
She clasps her long fingers together and starts tugging at them, wringing them out like a wet towel.
“I’m – fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry for kissing you it was…” she shakes her head, not able to find the word. Her lip wobbles and you remember that Ellie’s an emotional, needy drunk. “…I’m sorry,” she whispers again, words cracking. She looks at her Converse, ashamed. You take her red hands. Smooth your fingers over the marks she’d rubbed into them, silently begging for her to look at you.
Ellie had never kissed you before. But thinking about it, there’s not an ounce of regret floating in your body.
Confusion, sure but confused because you want it to happen again.
You bend to look at her, saying, with every fibre of your being that “It’s okay.” She’s quick to brush you off. Still looking at the floor, she states, “You were drunk.” “I wasn’t that drunk, Ellie. You’d plied me with food, and I had two glasses of water.” She shrugs, “Still.”
Taking a tentative step closer, you tug her hands, holding them close to your belly. Ellie runs hot and holding her has taken the edge off the chill.
Kiss me then. “I asked you to kiss me, Els.”
And I’d ask you to kiss me again if you weren’t so sad. Did kissing me make you sad, Ellie?
She slowly raises her head. There she is.
You husk, “I’m sorry if I made this confusing.” “No – I. I shouldn’t have,” she flexes her fingers around yours, “said what I said. I didn’t mean it.” Your face falls. Quickly, you try and pull the mask back up, but you squeak, “You didn’t mean it?” Ellies pales.
“Fuck—” she pulls her hands away, turning her back to you.
“I always say the wrong shit.”
Without her touch, the Jackson cold consumes you. A blue wave crashes into you. Lonely.
You’re lonely, standing on the porch of the Tipsy Bison, watching her back move as she rubs the base of her palms into her eyes.
She spits a curse. The air swirls under your skirt, and you suddenly feel a sickly feeling in your belly.
Your voice is a shell of itself when you whisper, “Ellie. We can just forget it happened if that’s what you want.” You get no response.
Had you made it all up? Had you read it wrong? Had Ellie even said what you thought she had?
“Please say something,” you breathe, picking at your nails.
You lick your lips and taste the ghost of her, hot and desperate in her apartment.
The musky taste of her will haunt you. Will consume your dreams, you’re sure of it, and you’ll wake, startling back into Jackson with that Blue Wave knocking into you once again.
Her back flexes. Silence ticks. Music bleeds, tinny – not real. Might as well not be.
The echo of the kiss fizzes at the back of your teeth like the hard-boiled sweet Ellie had slipped you during a drill one morning.
It’s lemon, she whispered, just don’t choke on it when we run.
You turn, ready to run back to your apartment and hide under your duvet.
Rid yourself of this shame that has suddenly consumed you, the Blue Wave that runs cold, but warm Ellie takes your hand, pulling it to her.
A gasp lodges in your throat, and Ellie’s speaking, spewing the truth at you with wild, green eyes.
“I did want to kiss you, fuck. I did. I did, I did---I do!” she brandishes the words like a weapon, planting it into Jackson, the first man on the moon.
 “and I—probably should have waited for a better moment. But you were just—” she huffs, shaking her head at herself, holding your hand like it’s hers and she’s not really holding it, just, feeling it there, the constant feel and not feel of your limb, warm and fuzzy from under the skin.
You watch her swallow down a thousand eventualities, a thousand ways to phrase her thoughts.
Finally, “I do want to kiss you,” she concludes. After a beat, she flashes you a small Ellie smile, and Jackson isn’t cold anymore. It’s summer. “Okay,” you whisper, nodding. “Okay,” she copies. “Cool.” “Yeah,” another Ellie smile, “Cool.” “You wanna go back inside? I’m freezing.” “Yeah,” she nods, holding her/your hand, “Cool.”
1K notes · View notes
cameronspecial · 6 months
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/cameronspecial/730937552404627456/let-me-protect-you-angel
can you tell use more about rafe’s rules for the reader, pls and thank you lol 👀
— @cantstoptheimagines
Let Me Save You, Angel
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings:  Swearing, Uncomfortable Because of A Pervy Misogynist
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.2K
A/N: This is a continuation of Let Me Protect You, Angel.
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Some of Y/N’s favourite rules for being Rafe’s girlfriend are the ones that show her that he cares. She didn’t need to look at the napkin anymore to remember which rule was which number because she had them all memorized since they wrote them down on that napkin during their first date. Numbers Five and Six often happen in tandem and show Rafe’s caring side. She hasn’t seen Rafe in almost five days, which is quite obvious to the whole campus as Rafe always gets more on edge when he doesn’t see her. However, she finally gets to see him again and follows Rule Number Six. The door to Rafe’s room has a code, which beeps its little song as she punches in her birthday. 
Her thoughts are focused on taking her stuff out of her backpack, so she is genuinely surprised by Rafe’s arms wrapping around her waist. “I’m so glad you could come over tonight, Angel. I was scared we were going to break our streak,” he declares, pressing his nose against the skin of her neck. She brings her hands up to wrap them around his neck and looks up at him, “It would be a shame. I’ve slept over at least once a week since we started dating. That’s a hundred and four-week streak.” Rule Number Six: Sleepover in Rafe’s room once per week whenever possible. 
He moves them over to lie down on his bed with his head resting on her breasts. She can feel his soft breath on her skin as he talks. “Rule Number Five, Angel.” She draws patterns on his back, letting out a big sigh, “It was stressful. I had a lab and I couldn’t find my notebook with all my notes for this week’s experiment. And then I got caught up in the cafeteria line at lunch so I was late for my meeting with my academic advisor. This whole week has been so busy.” She feels his fingers start to trace tiny hearts on her bicep. “I’m sorry things have been so hard and I couldn’t be there for you, Angel. I hate that I had to go away for my football game,” he grumbles. The fact that his mouth is pressed against her skin turns his words into raspberries and it makes them both laugh.
“It’s okay, I’ve been pretty busy, so I probably wouldn’t have been able to come over anyway. How was your day, Rafe?”
“It was okay. Same as always. The only eventful thing that happened was that Topper accidentally wore my underwear. That was weird. But it got so much better when you walked through the door though, Angel.”
“My day got better when I walked through the door too.”
He lifts his head and gives her a sweet kiss on the lips. Rule Number Five: Always tell each other how your day went, no lying. Even if it has to be over the phone, through a text, in an email or in a written letter. 
——
Y/N remembers how ridiculous she thought Rule Number One was when Rafe wrote it down on the napkin. “Come on, that’s never going to happen,” she proclaimed, tilting her head upright after reading the words. Rafe shook his head, underlining a specific word of the rule, “You don’t know that. And, god forbid if it does, then I want you to let me save you, Angel.” She could see he was serious and concerned about the possibility of something happening, so all she could give him was a nod as a promise.
Right now, she could not be more glad that her boyfriend is always thinking ahead on how to protect her. She didn’t know how she got into this situation. One minute, she was by herself in the lab looking over the work she did for this week's experiment and the next, Terrick was in the room with her. He has every right to be in the room; he is also in her class and pays for tuition. However, she always feels a little unsettled by him. The way he looks at her makes it obvious he is objectifying her. The way he speaks makes it clear that he was not taught to respect women. The way he stands too close to her makes her stomach drop. She wants to walk out of the lab right now so she isn’t alone with him, but he is blocking the doorway. “And the bitch got my name wrong too. Like sure, get my order and my name wrong,” he starts ranting. “I don’t understand how a girl can screw up my drink order. Aren’t you guys made to do that type of stuff?”
Y/N doesn’t know what to say. His frustration at something so trivial causes fear to flash through her and she is scared of what might happen if she tries to leave the room. Thankfully, as if Rafe had spider senses, she gets a call from him. She gently lifts a finger up to tell Terrick to give her a second, “Hi, Rafe. What’s wrong?” “Nothing, I was just wondering what you wanted me to bring over tonight. I’m at the store, right now,” Rafe asks, placing his pre-workout into his cart while his phone is wedged between his shoulder and ear. Y/N flashes Terrick a tight-lipped smile as he impatiently waits for her to get off the phone, “I’m actually craving some pie. Could you get me a coconut pie?” Rafe immediately stops what he is doing and moves his phone to his other ear. “Are you sure you want coconut?” he presses, already returning the stuff he was going to get onto the shelf. 
“Yes.”
—— 
They stayed on the phone for the whole time it took Rafe to get back on campus, pretending that he needed a detailed account of every single item Y/N needed from the store. When he walks through the door, Y/N feels her heart rate start to slow down. “What are you doing here?” Terrick snides through his teeth, looking at her boyfriend in annoyance. Rafe immediately puts himself between Y/N and the other man, “I realized that I am so clueless that I need Y/N to come to the store with me, so I came to pick her up. Are you ready to go, Angel?” The last part is obviously directed toward her and she is quick to get her backpack so she can weasel her way under Rafe’s protective arm. “Yep. Bye, Terrick. Great talk.” 
The couple makes their exit in each other’s hold with Rafe keeping an eye on Terrick. Once they are out of his earshot, Y/N lets out a sigh of relief. “Are you okay?” Rafe worries, looking her over for any indications that Terrick touched her. She gives a small nod, “Yeah, he didn’t hurt me. I don’t think he was going to. I’m sorry I used the code word, I probably shouldn’t have if I didn’t think he was going to do anything.” He stops their journey towards the exit and swings himself so he is facing her. His hands find weight on her shoulders and he lifts her chin up to look him in the eyes. “I don’t care if you use the code word for me to come kill a spider. If you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable or scared, you tell me coconut pie and you let me save you, Angel. Do you understand?” he brings her into a hug and kisses her temple. “You have to trust your instinct. Your safety is my number one priority.”
Rule Number One: Say coconut pie if she needs Rafe to save her.
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wileys-russo · 5 months
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childhood sweethearts (9) II a.russo x reader
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childhood sweethearts (9) II a.russo x reader
"-don't you have your own clothes?" you smiled in amusement, laid down on your bed as your best friend rummaged through your wardrobe, tossing things aside and mumbling to herself.
"yes but i have nothing to wear! like i told you before i came over here, keep up!" rory turned around and clapped at you making your eyes roll as you sat up and sipped at your drink.
"you my dear however are wearing this!" a few items of clothing hit you in the face as rory tossed them over her shoulder. "i thought we were just going to dinner?" you sighed as you peeled them off, the clothes in question a short black dress and an oversized black blazer for over the top.
"we are! but if we maybe end up somewhere else afterwards...we need to be dressed to show we're open to that." rory grinned with a wink as you only shook your head, having known her long enough to know there wasn't any point in arguing with the hard headed girl.
"so i saw that alessia followed you on instagram." rory mentioned casually, continuing her furious hunt through your clothing as you started to neatly fold everything she'd tossed aside in doing so.
"why are you stalking people again on social media? i thought we had this conversation ro!" you tutted, the girl notoriously known for a deep dive.
"i wasn't stalking! i just so happened to be looking for that picture of us when i visited you in australia and went to the beach which i know you posted. then i saw that our mutual followers had gained one and it was her." rory tried to defend, glancing at you over her shoulder as you fixed her with a look making her eyes roll.
"thought you two hadn't spoke in years?" "our mums reconnected, been to a few family dinners, we're talking again." "thats all i get?" "thats all you get because thats all it is!" you smacked her in the face with a tank top before putting it away, rory finally pulling a dress out she deemed acceptable and making a noise of happiness.
"well thats nice. it always was a shame you guys drifted and stopped speaking, you were inseparable growing up its always been super weird being friends with you both when you're not friends with each other." rory admitted, not ever having a clue you and alessia dated as most of your mutual friends had never known, grabbing your favourite brown leather jacket as you grabbed her wrist.
"you can wear this ro but i swear to god if you drop even a crumb of food on it we will no longer be friends."
~
"this feels illegal! it's a sunday!" you laughed, head buzzing and slightly tipsy as you and rory skipped through town hand in hand, off to your third bar of the evening.
"but you don't have work tomorrow so really it's more like a saturday!" rory grinned, london seeming to agree as the night life was no lesser on a sunday than it was any other night of the weekend, bars all packed out with drunkenly happy patrons.
"where are we even going?" you laughed as you stumbled, rory catching you and slinging an arm around your shoulders as she marched you both on with seemingly a clear destination and purpose.
"okay don't hate me, but we're going to test my skills as a wing woman." rory grinned, squeezing your cheeks together in her hand as she yanked you around a corner and into the line for yet another bar.
"no! no we are not." you shook your head firmly, trying to leave as her hands planted themselves on your shoulders, pushing you forward and toward the door.
"yes we are! you haven't slept with anyone since that horrid cow in australia and i love you so much but you're so fucking tense. you need a shag!" she kissed your cheek, the bouncer looking the two of you over and nodding for you to go inside.
"and just how do you know that! you don't know the ins and outs of my sex life rory." you scowled as she continued to push you toward the bar, the small venue cramped with people, majority crowded around the darts area on the other side of the room.
"what sex life?" rory teased, waving over the bartender as you scoffed and punched her arm. "can't believe you invited me out just to pimp me out, some friend!" you accused somewhat playfully.
"okay so you don't have to sleep with someone but what's wrong with a cheeky kiss? let your hair down baby! you're young, sexy and single." rory purred, shaking her shoulders suggestively and making you shake your head with undeniable amusement at her horrid dance skills.
"four jager bombs please." and with those buzzing through your head, you allowed yourself to be pulled onto the dance floor.
~
"ro you are the worst wing woman ever. that guy was like fifty and balding and that girl had a wedding ring on!" you managed to get out an hour later, now bordering on drunk as you clutched your stomach which was aching from how hard you were laughing.
"well i obviously didn't know that, i thought it was just a ring! queer woman love their rings." rory laughed, collapsing into you as the two of you huddled together on a table in the smokers area.
"see!" she held up your hands and pointed to the five rings scattered about your fingers. "hey if we're using that logic." you moved to grab her hands, pointing to her rings which only made the two of you laugh harder as rory extinguished her cigarette and the two of you returned inside.
"okay. what about him?" "no! balding again." "her?" "definitely straight." "him?" "definitely gay."
"her?" you glanced to the girl at the bar rory was obnoxiously pointing at, smacking down her hand with a laugh, though the sound died in your throat as the girl in question turned around and you recognized the blonde who was with her her right away.
"is that alessia?" rory gasped, already practically running over to the girl as you tried to grab her but it was too late. "rory!" you hissed, having no choice but to follow after her.
"less!" the blonde looked up, just having a second to put her drink down on the table and stand to her feet before rory launched at her. "oh my god! hi?" alessia beamed at her school friend, embracing her in a tight hug as you awkwardly hovered a few feet away.
you couldn't hear what else was said between them but you knew you'd been mentioned the moment alessia's head shot up, looking around until she saw you, rory already stumbling over and grabbing your hand.
"rory no i really don't think-" you started to quietly disagree but before you could finish your sentence you were at their table, multiple pairs of eyes boring up at you as you felt the back of your neck prickle uncomfortably.
rory introduced you both as you forced a smile and gave the group of girls a wave, only recognizing a few of them from when alessia played in the youth groups. "we went to school with alessia." rory explained, subtly pinching you as you still remained silent, nodding along with her words.
"well friends of less's are friends of ours, especially locals!" a girl you'd not met beamed, inviting the two of you to join them. "oh i'm sure they have their own plans!" alessia tried to save you, catching your eye and immediately noticing you were uncomfortable.
"oh we did but they backfired tremendously, turns out i am a terrible wing woman!" rory joked, pinching your cheek and yanking you down into a seat as you forced a laugh. one by one the girls introduced themselves as rory settled right in, joking around as if she'd known them for years.
"well well well, aren't ya a sight for sore eyes y/l/n!" you settled a little as you realised the body squishing in beside you was one you at least knew, ella pulling you into a hug. "all grown up now though!" the brunette joked, bumping her shoulder into yours as the two of you fell into conversation.
you could feel alessia's eyes bore into you from across the table where she sat, constantly glancing over to make sure you were okay. which is why it came to no surprise when you excused yourself to get another drink that she followed.
"i'm really really sorry, i genuinely had no idea you'd come here." the blonde apologized right away, eyes wide as the two of you hovered in a corner by the bar away from prying eyes. seeing the obvious guilt written on her face and not wanting to ruin her night you placed a hand on her arm.
"i don't own the night life in london less, you're more than entitled to go out wherever you want with your friends. i won't lie and say it didn't take me off guard a little though." you admitted with a somewhat awkward smile which the taller girl returned.
"i appreciate that you tried to redivert though. but we both know rorys quite the social butterfly!" you were quick to assure, having appreciated her attempt to let you leave and enjoy your own night.
"is this weird? because i can make some sort of excuse or distraction or something so we leave." the blonde worried, biting down on her bottom lip.
"no! no no please don't feel you have to do that, you deserve to enjoy your night with your friends. look it is a little bit awkward but friends do run into one another on nights out." you shook your head, nodding for the two of you to get a drink.
"don't even try it, i warned you next time i was paying." you joked in an attempt to lighten the somewhat tense energy between the two of you as were quick to pay for her drink,
"wouldn't have thought you were a gin girl." alessia smiled, nodding to the g&t in your hand. "rory's had me on jager and red wine all night, the gins a very welcome reprise." you sighed, the both of you sharing a small chuckle before someone pressed in between you.
"well hello there miss y/l/n." leah grinned at you, your cheeks going bright red at the obvious catching out. "failed to mention you two knew each other when you helped with the football sessions at the school less. care to explain?" she questioned, fixing the younger girl with a pointed look before ordering her own drink.
"we went to school together leah, there isn't anything to explain!" alessia shoved her playfully. "mm i think the lies call for a make up shot of apology." leah grinned wickedly, nodding to the three tequila shots in front of her.
you and alessia sharing a look leah wasted no time doing her own, gesturing for the two of you to hurry up as you sighed but placed your drink down, grabbing the shot in one hand and a lime wedge in the other.
"jesus christ!" you wheezed as the alcohol burnt its way down your throat. "leah no!" alessia groaned as the blonde ordered another round, her arm slinging over your shoulder as she grinned. "ah come on mate, live a little." she teased the striker beside her.
"was she this much of a drip in school?" leah whispered to you, purposefully loud as alessia shot her a glare. "no she's just never been able to hold her alcohol." you smiled, your head spinning from the first shot as leah let out a loud laugh and the two of you threw back the second, alessia following suit with a grimace.
"i like you." leah winked, smacking you on the back as the three of you returned to the table. your previous seat now occupied you found yourself sat beside alessia, pulled into a conversation with a couple of her other friends.
the alcohol flowing and all the girls incredibly welcoming your previous apprehension melted away and you found yourself much more settled. though really you could probably attribute that to the copious amounts of drinks bought for you.
which is how you now found yourself on the dance floor, singing along and dancing with rory as leah, ella and another two of their friends chloe and jess all joined in, some of alessia's group having called it a night and heading off having early flights.
"careful, you're looking a bit green there less." lotte mumbled to the blonde, whose eyes were fixated on you dancing now with chloe, in what could only be described as quite an intimate way. "what?" the striker frowned in confusion at the older girls words, though catching on her cheeks heated up a little and she smacked her leg.
"i told you lotte, we're friends and i'm grateful she's even allowed that. she can do whatever she wants." alessia shrugged, lying to herself and lotte who only hummed, turning back to her conversation with beth.
though as you slipped on your footing and went tumbling to the floor she was right to her feet, hovering for a moment as she watched ella and leah help you up.
"come on russo don't be a stick in the mud!" rory suddenly popped into her line of sight, grabbing alessia's hands as she swiveled her hips with a wink, dragging her onto the dance floor.
alessia shrunk a little in disappointment seeing you were no longer with the group, instead engaged in a conversation with a tall tattooed brunette a few metres away. "maybe not such a shit wing woman after all!" rory joked making a w with her fingers and gesturing to you as alessia forced a smile and a nod.
her eyes never left you as the brunette leaned in closer, the music loud as you giggled at whatever she said, her hands finding your hips and swaying the two of you back and forth.
alessia's stomach lurched at the way you grinned up at her, your eyes locked with hers and seemingly hanging off of her every word, nodding along as the brunette seemed to dominate the conversation.
the same way you used to look up at her, laughing at her jokes and hanging off of her every word. as alessia would stare right back down at you as if you were the only person in the room, because to her you'd always be the only one that ever mattered.
suddenly feeling a wave of nausea came washing over her she mumbled an excuse and darted off to the bathroom, ducking down and dabbing her cheeks with cold water, closing her eyes for a moment as the room spun.
"hey less you alright?" the striker jumped a half foot in the air at the voice of her captain, not having heard anyone follow after her. "yeah fine, just needed a sec to cool off." alessia smiled, trying to leave as leah grabbed her wrist, giving her a knowing look.
"hey, tell me whats happened."
~
having spent the last twenty minutes explaining everything to leah alessia almost welcomed the sticky atmosphere of the dance floor, a welcome distraction from the uncomfortable intimacy of pouring her heart out to her friend in the tiny bathroom.
leah wandering back to the table alessia tried to follow but ella pulled her back in to dance with them, pulling the puppy dog eyes and the excuse she flew back to manchester tomorrow and alessia owed her at least a few more dances.
and as much as she'd missed her boisterous best friend, it was you that her mind routinely drifted to, eyes flickering to where you now sat with the brunette from before, who still seemed to be talking your ear off.
everything seemed fine, and alessia began to try and accept that she soon would have to swallow her pride and watch you likely leave with this girl, no right or room to make any move to stop you.
but as the hours ticked away and the glasses on your table began to pile up, she wasn't the only one watching you cautiously as it appeared you could now hardly hold your head up, rory making her way over to interevene.
"hey, nearly ready to go?" you looked up through hooded eyes at your best friend who seemed to have grown a second head. "ro ro!" you slurred out with a grin, your head slumping to the shoulder of the gorgeous brunette beside you whose name seemed to escape you.
"she's fine, you and your friends should go." the girl smiled, though it didn't seem all that friendly as rory hummed, knowing you were far too drunk to be consenting to anything right now. "we will, but she's coming with us." rory spoke somewhat forcefully, you only giggling as your head lulled back and the room span.
alessia watched the whole interaction carefully, humming every now and then as ella rambled on beside her. she was content to let rory take the lead, however as the girl tried to help you up and the brunette beside her shoved her away, your head suddenly flying forward and crashing onto the table, she could no longer be a bystander.
"she can hardly keep her eyes open, she's leaving with us. so fuck off!" rory warned firmly, alessia squatting down and gently pulling you up to sit again, her hands shoved away by the brunette who you collapsed into with a laugh.
"do you want to leave with them love? aren't we having fun?" the girl asked you as you mumbled something incoherent.
"don't fucking touch her! she's practically passed out and she can't even say her own name let alone yes or no to your advances you creep. so unless you'd like us to call over security i suggest you walk away while you still can." alessia warned protectively, standing up tall and glowering over the brunette as rory slipped in to gently help you to your feet.
"whatever. she's not even worth it anyway!" the brunette scoffed, standing and walking away as alessia balled her fists, withholding the urge to run after her and knock some sense and respect into her, a feeling she'd not had in years, not even when she was pushed around on the football pitch.
"shit!" alessia hurried to grab you as rory tripped over her footing, also having had one too many drinks as noble as her intentions were as the two of you almost went crashing to the ground. "stay here for a second, i'll be right back." alessia helped you sit back down, leaning into rory who sat beside you and nodded.
"everything alright?" leah asked with a concerned gaze over her shoulder toward you. "they've both had way too much to drink and i can't let them get in a taxi like that alone." alessia smiled apologetically as she grabbed her bag, leah, lotte and beth all nodding in agreement.
exchanging hugs with her remaining friends and promising a stroppy ella that she would come and see her and mary in manchester the next weekend she could she hurried back to the two of you, leah following behind to help her get the two of you out the front.
"thank you leah, really." alessia hugged the older girl tightly once the two of you were safely sat in a taxi. "remember what i said yeah? right person, wrong time. if its meant to be, it'll be. if it's not, cherish what you had." leah reminded softly, kissing the strikers cheek and returning inside.
"where's your place less?" rory managed to get out, somehow having given the driver her own address as alessia gave the same. "i can't remember where she lives." rory winced, nodding to you who was now passed out entirely, face smushed against the cold window pane of the taxi, body curled into itself.
"i live a few streets away, she can stay at mine. i'm a bit worried leaving her by herself if she falls down and hits her head or something." alessia bit down on her bottom lip as rory could only nod, hardly able to keep her eyes open.
"you could stay too if you wanted?" alessia offered, reaching forward to tap her shoulder as the driver pulled away. "s'fine. my boyfriends home!" rory slurred with a shrug, alessia nodding and settling into her seat, glancing to you every now and then.
"we needa do breakfast or dinner or something!" rory stumbled out of the taxi as it arrived to her place, blowing alessia a kiss and making her way up the driveway, alessia requesting the driver wait till she got inside before driving off, nodding for him to go once she had.
the drive to her own house a little further away from town alessia's eyes fluttered closed as she crossed her arms over her chest, exhaustion starting to sink in as the time neared one thirty in the morning.
she jolted a little in surprise as something came crashing into her, but she relaxed seeing it was only you, your head resting on her arm as alessia carefully lifted your head and stretched out, allowing you to lean into her much more comfortably as her eyes slipped closed again.
she blinked tiredly as she felt the car come to a stop, rubbing her cheek and leaning forward, clumsily tapping her phone to pay for the ride, not even bothering to look how much it was.
"okay." she sighed looking down at you, popping her door open and carefully sliding out, propping you to lean back into the seat as she did. leaning in she unbuckled you, cradling your head in one arm as the other helped you out, balancing your shorter form which crumbled into her side as she kicked the door closed and walked toward her front door.
the stairs proving much too difficult she mumbled a soft apology well aware you had no idea what was going on, lifting you up and into her arms as she carried you up and to her doorstep as you mumbled incoherently.
setting you back down and rummaging through her bag she grabbed her keys, helping you inside and setting you to sit on her lounge. "lessi!" you managed out with a lopsided smile, eyes opening a little more as your head tilted to the side and you squinted up at her.
"yeah, its me." she smiled back, unable to resist as she ran a hand through your hair affectionately, moving your flyaways out of your face. but snapping out of it she snatched her hand back as if it had been burned, hurrying to lock her front door.
"okay, come on. bedtime!" alessia sighed, hauling you up and helping you to the spare bedroom, grateful she only lived in a single story apartment which meant no stairs. "we can't go to bed! we're not dating anymore silly." you slurred, poking her cheek.
ignoring your remark she sat you down, smiling a little as you laid down with a thump, star fishing in the bed as alessia wrestled your boots off. "okay. theres no way you can consent to this, how do we get you dressed?" alessia mumbled to herself chewing on her bottom lip, tapping her foot as your eyes slipped closed again.
noticing your dress was strapless an idea came to mind as she left you for a moment to pop to her own room, grabbing you some clothes to sleep in. "hey, we gotta get you changed." the blonde whispered softly, squatting down and tapping your leg, your eyes fluttering open as you nodded and forced yourself to sit up.
even though it was hours away alessia was already dreading the moment you'd wake up, knowing all too well the feelings of regret and embarassment which would likely flood your body. only selfishly she hoped unlike her you'd not run away before she woke up.
carefully slipping a large shirt on over you alessia helped you stand for a moment, tugging the strapless dress down and quickly helping you to step into a pair of shorts, leaving your bra and underwear on.
knowing the worst way to wake up was hungover with a face full of makeup it was to the ensuit she gently guided you to next, sitting you down on the lid of the toilet as she grabbed out the makeup wipes which always sat in here for when her friends stayed over.
"lessi!" you managed out again as she squatted down between your legs, gently holding your chin in one hand and wiping away your makeup with the other. "thats me." she promised with a smile as you hummed, closing your eyes as she wiped away your mascara, trying to be as soft as she could.
"missed you." you giggled, kicking her lightly as alessias smile turned a little more pained, knowing it was only the alcohol talking. "i missed you too." she still spoke quietly, popping the dirty wipes in the bin and sighing, her heart aching at the sight of you sat before her in her clothes, in her house, yet you were as far away from hers as you possibly could be.
helping you up and into bed she flicked off the main light, leaving the lamp on in case you tried to go to the bathroom later, pulling the duvet up to cover you in the dimly lit room.
"hey! stay." your hand shot out and grabbed hers as she turned to leave, eyes widening as yours remained squinted toward her. "you need to sleep." she forced another pained smile, gently pulling her hand out of your grip.
"stay lessi. please!" you whined now, rolling over and repeatedly patting the empty space beside you, looking up at her with a drunken pout. "i can't. you'd hate me if i did." she smiled sadly, running another hand through your hair, forehead warm to the touch.
"no. stay." you demanded again, though a little more tiredly as you patted the empty bed, eyes half closed as alessia hesitated, her entire body screaming for her to just walk away, and she should have, she knew that.
but, she didn't.
still dressed in the suit pants and vest alessia had gone out in she slipped in beside you, body tensing as you were quick to cuddle into her, tucking your face into her neck. "night lessi." you slurred out, hardly legible as you hugged her tightly, alessia slowly moving her arms to wrap around your midsection, doing her best to ignore the little voice in the back of her head screaming at her to get up and go.
but selfishly, she would take what she could.
your body eventually slumped into bed, breathing evening out as you finally fell back to sleep, alessia ever so gently prying your arms off of her, slipping back out of the bed.
if you noticed you didn't even stir, stretching out in bed with a deep exhale, mouth slightly ajar as you breathed soundly in and out. and if you'd have cracked your eyes open even just a few centimeters you'd have met alessia's hopelessly lovesick gaze bearing down on you.
or if you weren't so drunk you might have felt her lips press an affectionate kiss to your clammy forehead, lingering for a moment as she squatted beside you, other hand tangled in your hair as she inhaled deeply.
wrenching herself away she hurried out of the room, feet refusing to stop until she'd closed her door so quickly you'd think she was being chased and shutting out an intruder, her heart absolutely pounding in her chest as she slowly sank down, back pressed against the door as realization sank in.
alessia was still very much so head over heels, undeniably and most certainly problematically....in love with you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
chapter ten
672 notes · View notes
rae-writes · 5 months
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needy
nsfw;gn || wrote this for one slut and one slut only but sharing is caring
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The soft whimpers, though he tried to keep quiet, were echoing off the walls of your bedroom, making Choso whine even louder— either in embarrassment or arousal, he couldn’t quite pick. 
He swears that just five minutes ago all he was doing was happily cuddling you as you slept. Choso really didn’t mean to get like this, but you’d made a soft little noise from the back of your throat and shifted in your sleep so your ass was pressed right. there. 
“A-ah…fuck, Angel…” he choked out, fingers subconsciously digging harshly into the flesh of your hips as he thrusts his hips agaisnt your ass; the sweatpants he was wearing felt constricting, and before he could even think it all the way through, he was yanking down the waistband until he could feel your soft sleep shorts rubbing against the aching head of his cock. 
His eyes were closed, mouth parted without shame to let out those pitiful cries of pleasure- “feels s’good Angel, you feel too fucking good”- and he was so far gone with just grinding himself onto you that he didn’t notice you’d woken up. 
Until he heard the faint sound of you spitting into the palm of your hand before your fingers curled teasingly around his cock. 
The sensation was enough to make him cry out, back arching prettily, “Angel—! R-right there, fuck, keep touching me, please, please, tighten your fingers- need more!” 
You barely even touched him, and yet he was already a melting mess. “Cute. C’mon, Choso, you know what I need to hear from you…don’t know what to do if you don’t tell me, yeah? Come on, baby…beg.” 
And gods, Choso would get down on his fucking hands and knees, head resting on the ground in front of your feet, begging and pleading for you to never stop touching him- to do whatever you wanted to him. He wants it all— give it all to him. 
“Wanna feel your hand stroking my cock- please, I need it so fucking bad Angel. I need you to make me cum…please? Fuck, please, I’ll clean up my mess, I promise, I’ll lick it all off your hand— just make me cum!” 
Just the thought made heat pool in your belly, thighs pressing together instinctively; the way his eyes followed the movement made you even hotter. 
“Yeah? You wanna cum?” Your hand gripped his cock tighter, thumb relentlessly swiping over the slit, “If you clean it all up, I’ll let you fuck me. How does that sound? Let you cum inside me if you do.” 
“Yes! Gods, please, yes, wanna fuck you— I do, I wanna cum inside you, wanna make you feel good, o-oh— fuck!” 
It was always a sight to watch Choso cum. His eyes would widen before snapping shut as a hot pink hue colored his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. His lips parted, typically a loud moan or a sharp whine falling from them, while his back arched and his legs trembled. 
He thrusted his hips up to meet your hand until you’d milked him dry, and then he was bringing that hand up to his face and lapping at all the mess. Choso slid his tongue along your palm and your fingers, licking up his cum without any complaints; he didn’t stop until your hand was coated with only his spit. 
“‘M finished…can I fuck you now? Please? I’ll do all the work ‘n lick my mess up again after— wanna cum inside you…you’re mine, wanna show you you’re mine. Please?”
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see-arcane · 6 months
Text
The Harkers have got me fucked up. Not just from how much they're going through. Not just from how well they know each other.
But in how much is not being said. How much that appears to have been missed.
Mina has just made their friends swear to euthanize her. In front of Jonathan, who she knows cannot/will not make said promise aloud, though she tries to fish it out. A funeral service, yes, but no more than that. She takes the wins she can, relying on the others for the sacrificial slaughter while she pries what she thinks is some mote of acceptance of the Worst Case Scenario in Potentia from Jonathan. Perhaps she's read the vampiric vow of his journal by now. Perhaps not. Perhaps she already suspects either way and wants desperately not to see him damn himself, damn both of them, to avoid raising a killing hand to her.
She is going into the dark. What kind, she does not know yet. But she knows--thinks she knows--she has taken some measure to save her soul and Jonathan's. God's will be done. (Piety trembles in her heart, a fear trying frantically to still look like faith.)
Jonathan, meanwhile, is in Hell.
As it was in the castle, there are some miseries too deep to dwell on for him to stomach writing them down. Hence his tapping Jack to record it all. But the silence from him here, bar the dodge of the promise that goes against his private vow, bar the reading of the burial service, sinks deeper than any horror he suffered from the Count in person. What can he be thinking now?
I made this all possible. I opened the door to England for him. Showed him how to spread his poison. Failed to strike a killing blow when I had the chance. Slept frozen and useless beside her as he drank and made her drink. Lost him by inches in Piccadilly. Now I am here, listening to her claim so sunnily that any man of old would murder his woman to save her from the enemy's touch, as if asking for a trifle. All the while I sit contemplating a hellish betrayal, holding my heart over her wishes, over sanity, humanity, Heaven and Hell. Contemplating worse.
(The kukri is very sharp by now. In time it will have so fine an edge that no one would feel its cut before their head toppled off. Be they in a coffin or a friend with their back turned. Sickly, he finds the thought cold and placid in his mind. Is he not already damned for what he's allowed? Is he not already slated for the Count's collection? He knows whose blood it was on the monster's lips on that final dawn in Transylvania. And when he dies...)
I imagine he has to stop himself from making a mirrored request to the others right there. Has to stop himself from handing Mina the Bible and asking her to read it out for him. If she is lost, he is lost. It is not merely undeath that he would follow her into--whatever she is, wherever she goes, so must he be, so must he go.
Read it for me now, darling. You laid it all out so eloquently. I am already lost but for the wait for the grave. Come everyone, while we're here. Two funerals. Two sets of oaths. I can perhaps save you half the work, if I fall neatly enough on the kukri. Pry it from my heart and take my head when the time comes.
But he bites his tongue. Does not touch his pen. Does not risk heaping another weight on his love who is already crushed beneath existential terrors that are being thrust on her by the actions of others. She does not know what he is planning, even if she suspects it by half.
What she knows: Jonathan cannot raise a hand to her. (He would have me as a monster than not exist at all.)
What he prays she never will: Jonathan will be anything she is. (Mortal. Monster. Dead.)
One last secret to keep.
All the way to the grave.
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jamminvroomvroom · 6 months
Note
4 with lando :)))
flashing lights - kanye west (respect the art not the artist!)
LN4 x reader
tysm for the request xoxo!! finally continuing my requests (sorry it took ages whoops) flipped my list and went from the bottom for this bc otherwise we were gonna have some repeats lol
images below from pinterest - i claim no ownership 🙃
warnings: none! some swearing, some fluff, lando being a funny little camera shy pr machine - but fr minors pls just dni with my work okay tysm!!!
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lando was frantically pacing your apartment when you walked in, eyes wild, as if he hadn’t slept, and hair an absolute disheveled state. his usually sun-kissed skin seemed to get even paler when he heard the door shut behind you, coming to a halt in your kitchen and staring at you as though he’d seen a ghost.
“lando?” you questioned, confused as to, a) why he was here so early, and b) why he looked like he was about to confess that he had killed your entire bloodline.
“baby, i’m so sorry.” your blood ran cold. what had he done? he closed the space between you, tentatively taking your hands.
“lando… what’s going on?” you tilted your head, starting to sweat in your oversized leather jacket. you’d just been out running errands, picking up bits for the dinner you were supposed to be sharing with the mclaren driver, much later in the day.
“i didn’t think anyone had seen us but then i had my assistant, the entire pr department and my mother phoning me, and then max called and said that him and pietra wanted to see if we were okay, before i could call anyone else back which confused the fuck outta me, so i finally checked twitter and there it was and i just got in the car and came here but god, i’m so sorry.” lando finally exhaled, looking like he was about to pass out, with creases so deep on his forehead that you thought they’d stay there permanently.
“okay, lando? sweetheart? yeah, okay i’m gonna need a bit more info.” you over enunciated each word, stressing that you were still in the absolute dark about whatever was on the verge of sending him into cardiac arrest.
“there’s photos. of us. kissing.” he finally said, quietly, and after a good ten seconds of staring at you in utter fear.
“fucking hell, i thought something terrible had happened. jesus christ, lando.” you exhaled, eyes wide. he stared at you like you’d grown a second head, stepping forward to mockingly rest his hand against your forehead as if he was checking your temperature.
“are you… are you… okay?” lando asked, eyebrow quirked. he was shocked at how calm you were.
you’d both agreed to keep your relationship private, and over the last five months, that had gone swimmingly well. but some low quality photos taken, as you waited for some friends outside a restaurant in the outskirts of london, had fucking launched the cat out of the bag.
“how bad are the pictures? are we naked or something?” you scoffed at him and now lando was truly confused.
“no, but- but i thought we were gonna keep this quiet.” he murmured.
“i know, baby, but okay, it’s out. is that really so bad? it was bound to happen eventually.” you reasoned, and lando finally saw your point.
“i just want to protect you, from all of the lights and the flashing cameras. love you too much to lose you to those vultures.” lando dipped his forehead against yours as he spoke, eyes locked on yours. you couldn’t help but smile at him, the loveliest man you could have wished for.
“oh, my sweet, sweet boy,” you crooned, pecking his lips. “you know i love to show off.” he laughed at that, a low rumbling in his chest.
you pulled away, stepping around him and walking further into your apartment, dropping all of your stuff down in your kitchen.
“anyways, i already saw the pictures. we look hot.” you ignored his incredulous ‘what?’, waving him off. “now, come here and help me make dinner.”
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Text
Baby Blues
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Pairing: John Price x Female Reader
Synopsis: The promise of a normal Sunday is lost when your door is torn open, and, you, kidnaped. All you can do is pray that John finds you in time.
Word Count: 4.4k
Warnings: allusions to intimacy, kidnapping, blood, gore, swearing, angst, fluff
A/N: The lack of John fics is saddening to the degree that I’ve been forced to write one myself. Don’t expect anything good, in fact, I think everything I've written is horrible, but this is the only way the voices in my head would shut up. Enjoy.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
You suppose that you’ll never fully recall what happened after the front door got busted off its hinges, but the events leading up to the heart-stopping instance are more clear than crystal.
Just that morning you had woken up to an empty bed for the sixth day in a row, light streaming in from behind the drawn curtains. Your chest had been tight as you stretched your arms above your head; attempting to shake the fatigue from your body that you knew wouldn’t leave. It was a shame you had fallen for a man who was gone so often and for so long – you never slept well without John by your side, and you missed his habit of drawing you into his strong chest while small mumbles would fall from his lips; nuzzling your hair. But, mostly, you missed drifting off to his heartbeat in your ear.
His hand on your thigh was the better version of a weighted blanket.
But now he was off somewhere that you didn’t have the privilege of knowing – he could be just down the street and you would be none the wiser – leaving you here in his home in London, adamantly waiting for him to return. You always waited, though, because John was someone worth waiting for. Even if he always came back to you with another bullet wound or a few stitched scrapes -- the point was that he came back at all. And that tired smile that overtook his lips when he saw you was reward enough, the wash of softness that spreads like a wave over the harshness of his eyes.
You couldn’t ask for a more perfect lover, even if the nights he was gone you were incredibly restless.
“I have to make breakfast,” Your lips part, a slow groan entering the bedroom as you shove back the covers, the small digital clock on the nightstand reading eight O’clock, “God, what I wouldn’t give for John’s pancakes right about now.”
When things had gotten serious between the two of you, it had come as a surprise that the Brit was insanely good at making breakfast foods. Now every time John left you he not only caused an absence in your shared bed but also in the kitchen.
Getting to your feet, you pad over to the bathroom, grabbing one of John’s large spare shirts and gray sweats on the way, pressing them to your nose as your eyes flicker at the scent of smoke and gunpowder. It was almost enough to make you slink back into bed, roll around in the covers, and press the fabric deep into your chest as you imagine John being there, fingers spayed out along your burning flesh.
Lord, you were so horrifically in love with the blue-eyed man that even the scent of him made you ache with need.
After taking a shower, staying in there for a long while, and praying the cold water washed away your heated thoughts, you dressed and went to quickly hobble down the hardwood hallway, gazing at the pictures on the walls as you pass them.
A smile quirks on your lips at the still image of you and John at the local military base, snapped by none other than Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick himself with his thumb slightly sticking out in the bottom right corner. It showed John gripping you tightly around the waist, staring down at you as his hulking frame dragged you into a hug; your arms were around his tapered waist, not minding the bulkiness of his combat vest at all as John’s iconic bucket hat sat on your head like a shimmering crown. You looked up at the bearded man like he was the only person in the world that mattered and, at that moment, he was.
Gaz had never let on that he had been taking pictures of the two of you for about a year until on your last birthday he handed you a collection in an envelope with a smirk directed at his Captain.
“You’re going to love this, Sir,” Kyle had said, and you both had watched in amusement as John’s face heated to a, you believed, adorable degree of red at the contents.
It was safe to say that every single picture that you had been given was framed and hung in every nook available in John’s house.
Finally making it to the kitchen, you settled on a simple egg sandwich with a side of steaming coffee – something that John would never be able to understand about you. He was always so adamant about having a cup of Earl Gray in the mornings that it was the cause of many amusing fake arguments and teasing.
Going to sit on the comfy leather loveseat next to the window, plate and cup in hand, your eyes lock onto a black van across the street, not even thinking about it until you had taken a sip of your drink with a sigh.
You blinked slowly, watching the shadows inside the tinted windows shift with a hitch in your chest.
“That’s strange,” Muttering under your breath, you take another slow sip and feel the heat of the coffee settle in your stomach; pooling with the small amount of paranoia that began to gradually build, “I don’t think Mrs. Rose was expecting anyone today – it’s Sunday – she’s off at church by now for Morning Mass.”
The neighbor, Mrs. Rose, was a kind old lady whose husband had been in the service years and years ago and the two of you had bonded over the fact. She often brought over sweets when she knew John was gone and you and her would trade stories to keep each other company and the lonely thoughts at bay.
Her husband had died three years ago, and, because of this, Mrs. Rose found comfort in religion. Sundays were always quiet around the neighborhood – no cars on the quiet street, no knocks on the front door, and no loud music from the younger neighbors that John always had to use his ‘Captain Voice’ on to get to quiet down. And, certainly, no strange black cars with moving shadows in the interior.
Rubbing at your fatigued eyes, you lightly tilt your head back to rest on the top of the loveseat, “John’s rubbing off on me too much, I’m going to be graying in no time if I keep this up. It’s just a damn car.” Just as you said those words the engine of the van rumbled to life, and no later the vehicle was rolling its way down the road and disappearing out of view.
You nod your head, trying to prove to yourself that you had been right to think nothing of the small disruption to your Sunday routine.
“Worrying is John’s specialty.” You say with surety, your lips pulling into a smile as the steam of your drink caresses your cheeks, imagining the man and the furrow in his brow when he sees something out in public he didn’t like. He always pulled you close to him in those instances, keeping a hand on the small of your back like he was your personal security detail instead of your boyfriend. Not that you minded, of course. In fact, you found it incredibly attractive that he cared about you that much, “I’ll leave it to him to glare at every bump in the night, especially if it means he ends up sleeping on top of me like last time.”
So why was there a twist in your stomach that refused to leave? You shook your head, setting down your cup and grabbing at your egg sandwich with twitching fingers.
Not my business, you thought to yourself, chewing the bread and protein between your teeth and swallowing thickly before going back in for another bite, Nothing even happened.
But it was, unfortunately, going to be your business at about five O’clock at night.
Just finishing a deep clean of the pantry that you had been putting off for days, your ears had tuned out the sound of the radio on the counter, your favorite song just finishing up that you had been mindlessly enjoying. If anyone had heard you singing along as you had, it would have left you more embarrassed than the time you had accidentally punched Soap in the gut when he had snuck up on you at the base.
To this day, the Scot had never let you live that event down, but Price had told you fondly that if you could land a hit on his Sargent and leave him winded, there was no need at all to feel bad.
It was only in the break between songs that you finally heard your phone ringing from the living room.
Placing down the box of noodles that you had been trying to find a place in the pantry for with a huff of breath, your hand flicked off the radio as you left the kitchen. Mildly annoyed to be interrupted, you grabbed your phone from the couch cushion where you had thrown it a while ago, flipping the screen over as the incessant ringing stopped.
“Damn,” You mutter, mad that you had missed whoever had called, though you knew it couldn’t have been John or the others of 141 – they were never allowed to call on missions due to possible breaches of security – and you never wanted to put them in danger just because you missed your boyfriend.
The number of missed notifications made you freeze.
Inside your chest, your pulse skyrockets as your eyes skim over fifty-two missed calls from John, twenty-five from Gaz, fifteen from Soap, and seven from Ghost with a rising panicked fever. That last one was strange – Ghost never called you. It wasn’t that you weren’t close, he just hated not seeing the person he was talking to over the phone when he had the choice to. He had shown up at the house multiple times just to ask a question about a chicken recipe you had made the team a while back.
Your lips thin with a sense of eerie calm. Had you been cleaning the pantry that long? You swore it had only been two hours since you started.
“What the fuck,” You whisper, but before you could click John's notification to call him back, the phone started ringing just on cue. Stabbing the green icon with your shaking finger, your hands vibrate as you snap the device to your ear, but already your boyfriend was shouting on the other end.
“-Oh, thank the bloody fucking Lord,” Your boyfriend utters your name, and his voice pauses as he takes a relieved breath, but the frantic tone persists onto the next sentence. He sounded like he was running, and briefly, you hear him shout over his shoulder to someone most likely following behind him, probably Gaz, “Listen to me right now,” Foliage is shoved aside, and you blink in confusion at the sound, “and get out of the house. Now, Love, I know you have questions, and I’d be happy to answer all of them when I know you’re safe, but I can’t explain right now. You need to go to this exact location–”
“John, what the hell? Leave the house? It’s five on a Sunday.” You stumble backward, spotting your shoes and coat by the door with a terrified expression. What the fuck was he talking about? Leave the house…right now? It was dark out, the street lamps the only light left and not to mention freezing.
“Get out of the fucking house! Now!” Flinching your breath hitches at the words you could only describe as orders as his accent deepens gutturally at the shout coming from his lips.
John had never raised his voice at you before – despised it, really, and because of that arguments always led to both parties leaving to separate rooms to cool off before talking again with level heads on their shoulders. He never had outbursts like that. Ever. But this…
Your feet rush to the door, slipping on your shoes with quaking feet as you swallow harshly.
“Okay,” You whisper into the phone, voice noticeably weak from nerves and fear. Something was horribly wrong, and the same feeling from this morning returned tenfold, nearly like an ironic ‘I told you so’ as your stomach rolls.
“...Shit, I-I–” Whatever apology John was about to utter was lost to you as your hand went to open the door, gripping the knob before stopping in your tracks.
Whispers. Whispers coming from outside the door. Your ears strain for a solid minute before your eyes widen in their sockets. Alarm bells were ringing inside of your mind, and you slowly backed up and interrupted the directions that John was spewing off, hands clenching as sweat formed in the groves of skin.
“John, someone’s at the front door. I hear whispering.” Silence, and the sound of increased panting, a body running faster and faster as shouts reverberate in the background. Were those gunshots you heard? And muffled gasping? “John.” You breathily whisper, eyes snapping back and forth but focusing on nothing.
“There’s a safe in my office, the code is 5-6-2-1. Inside you are going to find a firearm–”
“What?!” Your face stiffens, but your feet already carry you silently backward toward John’s office room, “What the fuck?”
“Listen to me,” Price grunts, voice so desperate you weren't sure the same person was speaking to you anymore, “Gaz and the others already contacted the police and Laswell, but they’re not going to get there in time. You need to be prepared for when they bust through the door.”
Bust through the door?! Your thoughts run and with gasping breaths, you turn fully around and begin rushing through the house.
“Speak to me, Love,” John utters, choice cutting out and filtering back in, “Tell me what’s going on.”
“You owe me a ring after all of this I swear to–” The front door busts off its hinges and multiple pairs of rushing feet storm through the house, and all-consuming shouts drown out your screams. You drop the phone as John bellows your name into the speaker, voice breaking. Turning to run, hands snatch at your wrists and shoulders dragging you away from the office that was so close at hand and back to the door. All you caught a glance of were black uniforms, heads completely covered like common criminals. But they were anything but.
“Get the Hell off me...! John! John, please!” Your screaming is cut off by the end of a gun falling to your temple, blinding pain erupting behind your eyes as blood spurts from a wound breaking your skin.
Disoriented, you fall silent, head lulling to the side as your swinging arms and legs fill with TV static. They lay limp as strange hands wrap around your middle, dragging you out the door as John’s voice becomes faint in the distance. You fall unconscious to his rage-filled voice, the volume of his threats so loud you heard them in the streets before darkness takes you.
“I will tear every one of you fuckers to pieces if you break one hair on her fucking head! Do you hear me?! You keep her out of this–”
                                      –
And now you were sitting tied to a chair, head throbbing with venomous fear pulsing through your veins; your body shaking as the initial confusion leeks away.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, You think, head snapping this way and that even if it makes you want to vomit right into your lap. The rope over your wrists and waist digs deep, your skin already red long before you start jerking your limbs to try and move them.
The room looked like an old storage container, with metal on the walls and floors with a single handing light from the low ceiling that buzzed. But what caught your attention more were the blood stains. Sucking in quick breaths, your eyes jerk from one to another, all dried but looking large and having spawned from wounds that no one could walk away from. Suddenly aware of your situation, a whimper falls from your lips.
Where was John? You wanted him with you, wanted to feel him bring you to his chest and never let go, feel the steady beating of his reliable heart against your ear like a lifeline; you wanted to grip his skin and lay gentle kisses to his cheeks and lips, let his beard tickle you like it always did – leaving you laughing as John rubs his head into your neck to tease you with it.
The blue peeling paint of the storage container didn’t look like the precise blue of John’s eyes, just a pale imitation. Strangely, that was the thought that made the growing tears in the sides of your eyes slip down your cheeks. That wasn’t his blue; nothing else could be. Your fingers clench into fists so tight the skin turns white.
“John,” You sob, the blood from your head wound dripping down your chin. It sings, “John, where are you? Please, I’m scared.”
Footsteps sound from outside, but you immediately know they don’t belong to your boyfriend. They were too heavy, and, whoever it was, they didn’t carry themselves with the grace that John always did when he was with you or in the field. While being built better than a bodybuilder, your lover had been trained to take on tasks that most would consider death sentences…and he sure as hell didn’t walk like that. The stranger was so loud even your untrained ears picked up on it, and your body responds by becoming even more tense as a shadow settled behind the door.
A long stretch of silence and ragged breathing, your occasional sniffling contrasting the thick air.
The large door opens with a slam that makes you flinch back into your chair, wrist ropes skinning the fragile skin as you choke at the pain.
His face is unfamiliar, one twisted by emotions you weren't sure most normal people experienced in their lifetime. He stalks closer, and instinctually you attempt to pull back to no avail. The ropes begin to draw blood, the metallic scent coating your nose.
Behind the stranger, the door closes silently, a dull thumb announcing the barrier.
“My name is Ilya,” His Russian accent was heavy, making the words harsh. Ilya clunks forward, standing a few feet from you as he stares down his large nose, “You are John Price’s pet, no?”
Pet? Despite the pounding in your head, you hold your tongue but show an annoyed grimace.
When you don’t respond, Ilya’s hand connects with your right cheek, snapping your neck agonizingly to the side with a deafening slap. Your world swims, and a buzzing takes hold in your ears like an explosion had gone off right next to you. Fresh blood flows from your lip – you think with a groan that you bit into it accidentally.
Be brave, You swallow the scream in your throat, working the kink out of your jaw, John would want me to be brave. He’s coming for me. I know he is. The thought comforts you. Never in your life had you doubted John and his loyalty; many would call it his defining factor.
He was going to find you – him and Gaz and the rest of your boys.
“You are to answer me when I ask you a question, Pet. Understand?”
“Go fuck yourself,” You snarl, tears falling to your lap with dull splats and absorbing into John’s gray sweatpants. Your face burns.
Ilya smirks, square jaw pulling back. He grabs at something with his left arm, your eyes following the movements in horror as he draws a long knife from his waistband.
“Alright,” He mutters, fingering the tip of the blade and nodding his head, “I can play that game.”
He walks three steps forward before a sound like bending metal sounds from outside, and suddenly the two of you are shrouded in inky darkness. Your panicked breathing stills.
Did someone destroy the breaker box? Shaking, you find it in yourself to weakly smirk, hope rising in you.
“I hope you’re really good at dodging punches…because John saves his fists for the worst ones.”
The door breaks off its hinges, and the sound of familiar, muffled, footsteps rush into the storage container. Ilya never stood a chance.
“Get over here--!” Not being able to see anything, all you could do was listen to the feral sound of skin connecting with skin echoes throughout the metal box. A body drops to the floor with choking gasps of pleas before other people rush into the room, one shadow immediately zipping to your side. You flinch.
“It’s me,” Gaz mutters, “You’re alright, it’s just me.” You hadn’t noticed the frantically fast pace of your heart until you had the time to be concerned about it.
Gaz’s hands immediately go to the ropes, cutting you free with his combat knife before dragging you into his arms. Your legs feel weak, but you find the energy to nuzzle your head into the man’s chest with a relieved sigh. But it’s not John. Still, you hear your boyfriend reaming on Ilya, the man most certainly dead by now due to John’s strength.
“Captain,” Soap’s voice calls from the doorway, his shadow shifting. He clears his throat as Gaz places a careful hand on the back of your head, a slow sigh leaving his lips to ruffle your hair, “Sir. He’s dead.”
The ragged and bloody punches come to a gradual stop, and heavy panting reverberates. Your head turns to the side, muttering, “John?” With squinted eyes, trying to make him out in the darkness. A quick rustling of equipment catches you by surprise, but the warm hands that grip your shoulders lightly don’t scare you; it turns you around with a heart-tightening gentleness.
A new chest meets your cheek, warmer than Gaz’s as well as broader. Stiffer. John. John. John. Your hands snap around his waist with a wet sob ripping from your lungs, leaving you breathless and gasping for air as more tears come.
“Shh,” His lips are on your head, muttering into your hair as his arms completely encompass the expanse of your back. If you were any closer you would be afraid you would disappear into his skin, ceasing to exist, “Shh, shh. I’ve got you. I’m here. It’s never going to happen again, I promise you. I love you.”
You only held him impossibly tighter, and you could hear Gaz and Soap in the background let out deep sighs of relief, slapping each other on the shoulders. They exit after a few quick glances and the lights flicker on a moment later – most likely Ghost’s doing. Your heart warmed at them for privacy, though your eyes snapped shut at the sudden light.
John’s hands left you for a moment, prompting a small whine from you before they returned swiftly to grip the back of your head, the large night vision rig on his helmet re-set back so he could see you.
“Let me look at my girl,” He murmurs, chest rumbling from his soft tone. You were happy that only you ever got to hear him speak like this. You turn your head to rest it on his chest, gazing up at him with red-rimmed eyes. At the sight of your bruised cheek and bloody temple, his eyebrows furrow, a quick rage overtaking him as you watch his eyes darken. But you don’t say anything, just watch as John’s arms squeeze you before one hand travels up to your face. He lightly presses at the thin cut on your head and stops when you let out a quiet hiss. Guilt swims in those beautiful blue eyes of his.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Darling. If I had known he would go after you I never would have left you home alone.”
“John,” you whisper, voice hoarse in your throat. He leans down and presses his forehead to yours, lightly bumping against your forehead, “It’s not your fault.”
“But I–”
“You came for me, didn’t you?”
“Always.” He says it so softly you feel your eyes tear up again.
“Then that’s all that matters.” You tilt your head and capture his lips with your own, lightly moving your hands to grip his hairy cheeks as his thumb caresses your temple, the other you feel shaking around your waist. The adrenaline was wearing off.
John was tall, and to fully kiss him you had to get up on your tip-toes and hope he wasn’t going to tease you and pull back with a cheeky smile, but you would do it until your feet bled to feel the warmth that he give you as his lips dance with your own. They were soft for such a hardened man. Had he been using the Chapstick you had let him borrow for when he was away?
You pull back for air, your neck becoming sore at the angle you hold it just as John sighs, eyes flickering over you once more. You make a noise in the back of your throat in question.
“Marry me.” Your eyes widen, recalling your comment before your house had been broken into. Had he really asked you that?
“Are…are you really asking me for my hand while the dead body of the man that kidnapped me is behind you?”
“So…is that a ‘no?’” His eyes crinkle.
“You’re mental, John Price,” A smile splits your features, and you find him mirroring your expression. Your heart pounds, though not from fear this time. At his cheeks, your hands drag him in for another kiss, brief, though you pour every single emotion into it as you can. You feel the hitch in his chest and feel a blossoming of pride that you have the same effect on him as he does you. Leaning back, he chases you, though you stop him with a finger to his lips. There were his eyes again, those sapphire blues that sparkled when they looked at you, “But, yes.” You whisper, liking the way he almost looked relieved.
Like you would ever deny him. Like you could deny those baby blues when they looked at you with such love.
“I love you,” He whispers, pressing his face into your neck, kissing the skin in reverence, leaving fireworks in the wake of his lips.
“I love you more,” You whisper, nuzzling into his chest and gripping his shirt in tight fists. He chuckles at you.
“Not possible.”
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babygirl-riley · 7 months
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Paradise
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Simon keeps telling himself it is the last time but keeps coming back to you.
“…try not to get your hopes up, cause I probably won’t stay. I said I’m on my way.”
Warnings: smut, swearing, if you squint you will see some angst, fluff a bit, touch deprived Simon
*Simon POV*
simon x reader guide
simon x reader smut list
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God why did it have to feel so good? Why couldn’t he be able to restrain himself from coming back again? You haunt his thoughts, thinking about how you whimper for him. How you wrap around his cock like it was the only thing you could live for.
He never goes back. Never spends the night. Never saves numbers. Never willing and wanting attention. Yet here he is in between your legs, slowly bringing you to where he needs you to be. Your pussy drenched in your cum, stuffed with his large fingers. Two of them fit in there spreading your hole to prepare for his cock.
How your hands will grab his mask him imagining that it’s his hair instead. God how touch deprived he really is, maybe that was it. He never really had intimate moments like these, at least lately. For what he feels. Bloody hell he feels like a fucking fool.
God how you look at him while he is eating you out. Your eyes begging for more, wanting everything from him. Wanting him. For how long has this been going on? Long enough he would think too long. Your moans drive him to thumb your clit harder, tighter circles, as he does sloppy kiss on your neck.
“F-fuck Si.” You whispered, whimpering basically.
It had him craving you even more, he never told his real name. Government name. It was ALWAYS his code name. “Ghost” that was it for other women he slept with, you. “I need you.” He whispered into your ear easing his fingers as you released your second orgasm.
He saw your smirk forming on your face. You slid your fingers, lazily underneath his balaclava gripping his hair. It made him moan, almost damn near whimper. “Please.” He said his voice lower then it already was. Making it sound desperate.
Desperate. Something that Simon would never show to anyone else. You plagued his skin, burning it for more touch. Plaguing his thoughts. It is now coming into his thoughts during down time on missions. Your eyes. Your hair. Your lips. Your bloody laugh.
He shouldn’t think of someone that is so pure. So innocent. No blood on your hands. Simon is a monster, a grim reaper ready for someone’s reckoning. You weren’t like that, always giving a helping hand. Simon kept telling himself that he will darken your life, turning you into a monster. He can’t do that. Not to his angel. His light.
“Simon,” You whispered having him look into your eyes. “I need you too.”
He moaned as you gently pushed him down, he could have over powered you but fuck. Your touch making him feel on cloud nine, blocking his common senses. You placed your soaking pussy against his hardened clothed cock. “Let me take care of you.” You whispered to his ear nibbling at him before kissing down his neck and biting.
He couldn’t stop feeling the shudder and tingle sensation running down his spine. Everything he though of before gone. You made him feel like he was on retirement, on a paradise island. Just you and him. Your hands running down his scarred abdomen, as you kissed each deep scar, each burn mark.
That is what could be the reason he comes back. Making him feel like he wasn’t a scary monster, that you could be the angel purifying the dark one. “Fuck sweetheart,” he whispered watching as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. God how beautiful you looked, fucked out, glimmering in sweat, the precum and salvia mixed together. “You are just a beautiful minx.” His muscles started to twitch.
His grunting became more close together. Simon wanted needed to thrust up into your mouth. You made him feel so good, him being engulfed in the scent of both of your arousals. You flattened your tongue the vein that stuck out the most causing him to hold his breath. You ended with a long slow suck to his tip, playing with it with your tongue.
“Fuuuck,” he said his eyes rolling in the back of his head. “You make me fee—fuck.” He couldn’t even finish before he could feel his orgasm coming. He softly pushed you off before he was panting.
Simon laid back trying to gather his thoughts and breath. He felt you crawl yourself back up kissing sloppy kisses. He felt your hand being placed on his cheek, causing him to open his eyes. You both stared for a moment as his hands trailed up and down your body before gripping his cock. You bit your lower lip as he pressed against your entrance.
Simon wanted to just slam into putting himself into his paradise. What made him feel whole. Before he could do anything you pushed yourself down. Which surprised him, usually you waited, his grunted hard feeling your walls making room for his fat cock. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you panted slowly. Simon could see stars, his skin flaming. His cock nestling near your cervix.
Both of your sweat glistening off each other sticking to each other’s skin. “Simon,” He didn’t even realize that he was just staring. You smiled before running your thumb down his lips. “Kiss me.”
How could he say no to that? Usually if someone isn’t higher rank then him he wouldn’t listen. But to hell with rank with you, you could tell him to jump and he would respond with how high and how long. He leaned up grabbing your back and hugging you closer to him. You giggled as he crashed his lips to yours. It was sloppy teeth clattering. Just where he wanted you.
He lifted his hips and slamming into. You whimpered as he did it again, harder. You slid your fingers under his mask and grabbed his hair. God how his spine tingled and his cock twitched. He wanted more so needy of him wanting more from you.
He felt your pussy clenching so fucking hard. “Good girl, there ya go baby. That’s it,” You were clawing at his back as your hips met with his. He looked down where you joined the white ring appearing. It would make his eyes roll just knowing his seed was in you. That you are his and his only.
Simon was feeling he was close. He wanted to cum with you, both going into bliss. “Ah yes please please I-I wanna fuck!” You yelled bouncing on his cock harder. The noises would be horrific for some people from both of their juices, mixing together.
He placed his forehead against yours. Feeling sweat against one another. “Yes princess let go, I’m here with ya.” He grunted in between.
Simon felt his orgasm coming right through as your pussy clenched him hard. He started to to spasm, rolling his head back his breath hitching. His orgasm hit hard, harder than he has ever been before. His legs twitching and tensing, feeling the cum going right into you. Painting her walls white. Claiming you. Like no other man could.
You slowed down as you slowly laid on his chest. Both of you were heaving, he never had a woman ride him before, he always like to feel in control. Simon’s breathing steadied as he rubbed his hands up and down your back. He sat there feeling like he landed in his paradise. Simon haven’t felt like this in years, being peaceful, feeling safe. His brother would make fun of him, stating that he was becoming a teddy bear.
Your breathing started to steady, becoming normal. Snapping him back to you. “Can you stay?” You asked hesitantly, feeling his dick soften more inside you.
Simon sighed, he shouldn’t. He needs to leave, get up, and go home. Last time he would see you. Delete the number and never see her again. Literally “Ghost” you never talk to you. You sat up, he realized how long he was silent.
“Or um…” You stuttered finding words.
His heart started to beat hard and fast. Simon placed his hand on your cheek moving strands of your hair. “Love to.”
Fuck. Only if he could say no.
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cal-flakes · 9 months
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╰┈➤ boyfriend!rafe hc’s
warnings: swearing, death by fluff.
: ̗̀➛ because of the way ward treated him, rafe struggles massively expressing his feelings, especially verbally.
: ̗̀➛ instead, he opts for acts of service and gift giving.
: ̗̀➛ that boy would do absolutely anything for y/n.
: ̗̀➛ he adores her to no end, forever showing her off.
: ̗̀➛ every birthday, he buys her new jewellery with his name engraved on the inside as a constant reminder that she’s his and he is hers.
: ̗̀➛ on the days she hasn’t slept over at his house, he’ll show up on y/n’s door step with a bouquet of flowers.
: ̗̀➛ “rafe, baby, i really do not have enough vases to put all these flowers in..”
: ̗̀➛ you can bet money that from now on, he shows up with a new vase too, everytime.
: ̗̀➛ he just wants to give her all of his love, his hearts been locked away for so long.
: ̗̀➛ it definitely took him a few months to really open up at first, so desperately wanting to impress her, rather than show her the ‘bad side’ of him.
: ̗̀➛ but to her, no side of rafe cameron could be bad.
: ̗̀➛ he adored the way she cared for every living creature, person, organism, you name it.
: ̗̀➛ “it’s just a bee angel, it’ll be fine..”
: ̗̀➛ “rafe, if you don’t get me some sugar water right now, i swear to god..”
: ̗̀➛ and of course he does exactly that.
: ̗̀➛ he always made sure he didn’t let his father see how much she really meant to him, or atleast he tried his best.
: ̗̀➛ he knew if ward found out the lengths he’d go to, to protect her, he’d use it to his advantage.
: ̗̀➛ incessant kisses/touches, all the time, everywhere.
: ̗̀➛ he wasn’t too big on making out in public, preferring to simple keep a hand on her at all times.
: ̗̀➛ “rafe, please let go of my nose..”
: ̗̀➛ “but it’s so cute and small!”
: ̗̀➛ he absolutely carried her shopping bags, all of them, and if they didn’t all fit on his arms…
: ̗̀➛ “you called me here, urgently, to carry your girlfriends bags?”
: ̗̀➛“take the fucking bag kelce!”
: ̗̀➛ rafe wasn’t one for extravagance very often, instead he’d plan more spontaneous dates.
: ̗̀➛ he’d take y/n into the woods, where an old treehouse was. he’d found it a few weeks beforehand.
: ̗̀➛ he spent the whole week leading up to date night decorating the tree house with fairy lights and cushions.
: ̗̀➛ he’d even bring a wicker picnic basket, filled with all of y/n’s favourite snacks.
: ̗̀➛ on a bad day, he’d cancel all of his plans just to make sure she was okay.
: ̗̀➛ “rafe, you really don’t need to stay here with me all day, i’ll be okay”
: ̗̀➛ “what if i want to stay here all day?”
: ̗̀➛ late night dances in the kitchen while sneaking a late night snack.
: ̗̀➛ spraying whipped cream into his mouth while they made pancakes together in the morning.
: ̗̀➛ “you’re so gross”
: ̗̀➛ “you love me for it”
: ̗̀➛ when he had a bad day, he was a moper, especially if y/n wasn’t there to stroke his head while he laid his head in her lap.
: ̗̀➛ he dreamt of the day they finally get married and start a family.
: ̗̀➛ safe to say, rafe’s completely and utterly starstruck by her.
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