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davinawritings · 20 days

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Making It Fit

Hi Guys! This is Part 2 of my Yandere Dragon Drabble. I hope you enjoy it! This does switch point of views in different parts! Let me know if you like the different POVs or would rather keep it to more just reader POV. Also I felt the Dragon needed a name because this is now a full length fic so I went with Kai!

Pairing: Yandere Male Dragon x Female Human Reader

Warning: Smut, Teratophilia, Dub-con / Non-Con, Giant Cock, Huge Size Difference. Breeding Kink, Cervix Penetration, Creampie, Squirting, Overstimulation, Oral (male on female)

Word Count: 3,273

Part 1

Kai traveled in the direction of the southern woods. The last he had heard, the witch had taken up residence a little outside one of the villages there. He hoped the witch was still there. Witches could be picky and tricky but he knew this witch had a fondness for precious gems.

The entire flight he tried not to think about the reason for his travels. Knowing there could be a chance to fuck his little human properly made his cock swell with anticipation. He didn’t care what the price was so long as he could bury himself in her cunt.

Finally seeing the witches cottage, he notices the smoke rising from the chimney and takes it as a good sign. He descends gracefully and before he can even take a step the witch has opened her front door. She looks him up and down before saying, “Kai. It has been quite a long time. What brings you to my woods?”.

“I have come to request a favor. I have taken a human to mate and sh-” , he begins to explain but is quickly cut off by the witches cackling.

“You took a human to mate. A tiny little human for a large dragon! I see why you are here then. You haven’t been able to fuck your human,” she says between laughs. He simply stares at her unimpressed. When her laughter fails to stop he lets out a low growl causing the witch to finally compose herself.

Wiping the tears from her left eye she says, “You are in luck today dragon. I do have a couple solutions for you, but they come at a high cost.”.

“I do not care what it costs. My only desire is her.”. The Witch grins and replies, “just what I wanted to hear. Bring me one hundred rubies and I shall give you a potion for her. Once she drinks it her body will become more pliable and her cunt will be able to stretch to accommodate your cock. You will have twenty four hours to do with her what you please before the potion wears off”.

Kai’s cock twitches and begins pulsing at the thought. Images of your small body taking his massive cock, splitting you open and filling you for hours on end. He almost agrees when he remembers the witch said she had a couple solutions.

“What is the other solution? I want to know all my options before we make a deal”. The Witch grins even wider and says, “my other solution comes at a much higher price. One I don’t think you will be willing to pay”. He growls and tells her, “ I told you witch, I don’t care how much I pay. Tell me my other option”. He feels the fire burning at the back of his throat at her words. How dare she insinuate that you are not important enough for him to pay her price! You are everything!

“My other option for you is a more permanent solution. I will brew a potion that allows you to fit inside your little human. This one will last as long as she lives. I will also brew it to bind her life to yours. You know pesky little humans have such short lives. They are lucky if they make it to one hundred, while dragons live for thousands of years. It will bind her life force to yours. She will no longer age and will live until your last breath. It will also mutate her body to actually be able to carry your offspring. But remember dragon, it will not be cheap. If this is what you truly desire it will cost everything you have. Your entire hoard of gems and treasure. It will cost all of it”.

He narrows his eyes at the witch. She knows a dragon's hoard is their greatest pride. He is already almost seven hundred years old and his hoard is extensive but he can’t deny his need for you. He cannot imagine a world where you grow old and weak in so little time. A world where he does not have you in it. The thought alone makes him want to burn every village in the world to the ground. Even just the thought of life without you makes him want to kill anyone and everyone.

“ I’ll start bringing everything over. It will take a few trips but I will get it done today. When can you have the potion done?”. The witch fails to hide her surprise and excitement, not expecting his agreement. “I will have it ready for you by this evening and remember dragon, I will know if you try to cheat me of my treasure. I want everything”.

Kai takes to the skies once again. He wants this done as soon as possible. The sooner he has the potion, the sooner he can ravish your body and you will both start your lives together. He will rebuild his hoard of treasure with you at his side as his mate.

Upon returning to his lair he finds you asleep and decides against waking you. You will need all the rest you can get for tonight. He quickly finds the best way to bundle up all his accumulated treasures. Unfortunately it will take several trips but he knows it will be worth it in the end.

He continues to fly back and forth bringing his treasure to the witch. With each trip he can’t help but get more and more excited. When he returns to the lair for the last batch of treasure he finds you awake and looking around distraught.

He is by your side instantly checking you over to make sure you are unharmed. Before he can ask if you are alright you say, “I don’t know what happened. Almost everything is gone. Someone must have taken all of your treasure and I didn’t even hear them. I don’t understand how this could have happened”. Your voice is filled with worry and panic and he immediately tries to soothe you.

Bringing a claw up to gently stroke the side of your face he tells you, “It is okay my little mate. I took everything. It is payment for something even greater. I need to take the last batch to the witch in order to get the potion for you but I will be back shortly”.

As he snatches up the last of the treasure you ask, “What potion? What are you talking about Kai? What witch?”. He looks at you and sees the unease in your eyes. It unsettles him a bit. He doesn’t want you to worry and try to leave while he is gone. You have a little bit too much clarity in your eyes for him to feel comfortable leaving you alone right now.

He guides you back to the pile of blankets that he set up for you. Nudging you to lie back he immediately lowers his mouth to your pussy. His thick tongue parts your lips as he licks long strokes up your slit. His rough tongue bumping your clit with each stroke. You try to pull away a bit to ask your questions again, wanting to know what is going on but a warning growl keeps you in place.

Kai thrusts his tongue into you, stretching your pussy and using the tip of his tongue to bully your g-spot. You cry out and he moans at the gush of arousal that pours onto his tongue. He thrust his tongue quickly, the movements smooth dues to your arousal and his saliva. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to wash over you.

Kai gives you no time to calm down and continues his assault on your cunt. You whine from the overstimulation and try to move away but he holds you in place. The tip of his tongue moves to your cervix, licking and thrusting against it as he pleases. The mix of pleasure and pain is too much and you are quickly shoved into another orgasm.

He finally relents as you practically melt into the bed barely able to keep your eyes open. He waits until your breathing evens out before giving your dripping pussy one last little lick. He quickly grabs the last of the treasure and heads back for the witches cottage.

The timing is perfect as when he gets there the witch is sitting in front of her new treasure pile with the potion in hand. As he drops the last of the treasure she holds out the small vial. He takes it and keeps it clutched safely in his claws. He mumbled out a quick thanks to the witch before heading for home once again.

He can feel the desire and excitement burning through his body. His cock is pulsing and hardens completely as his lair comes into view. He lands and makes his way inside. You look as if you had just woken up again and immediately began to question him again.

“What were you speaking about before? Where is everything?”. He lays back and pulls you on top of him. He moves you to glide along the underside of his cock as he begins to explain.

“I gave all of my treasure to a witch so she would brew a potion for us. This potion is going to make it so I can finally have my cock inside of you. We will be together as one, as we were meant to be”. His claws wrap around your waist and start to drag you faster along his cock. The smooth ridges and scattered scales rub against your cunt making it hard to process what he is telling you. He shifts you slightly and drags your exposed clit over one of the thick veins on the underside of his cock and you whimper softly at the direct stimulation. Your mind begins to become fuzzy from the lust and desire, thinking rationally becoming harder.

“ The potion will also bind your life to me. You will not age anymore. You will live for thousands of years at my side. You are my mate and we will create our own family. You will warm my cock every day and every night. We will create little dragons and spend eternity with each other my love”.

His words cause a slight panic to begin rising in your chest. The lust in your eyes fading slightly into panic. He narrows his eyes at you and pushes your puffy pussy down harder on his cock causing you to cry out. His thrusts speed up and he puts his focus on your clit. “ Do you want to cum little one? You want me to make you release all of your slippery juices along my cock? Huh?”.

Nodding your head you feel your desperation for release rising. You are right on the edge and you can feel your pussy starting to overrule your mind. The need to cum in so intense your clit is throbbing with each movement of his cock between your slick thighs.

He lifts the uncorked vial to your lips and says, “ Drink this now little mate. Drink it and I’ll let you cum until you physically can't anymore”. In the back of your mind you know you shouldn’t drink it. This is going to seal your fate for the rest of eternity. He will never let you go after this.

Unfortunately your brain isn’t the part of your body that is currently in control. As you feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, you tilt your head back and he pours the potion into your mouth. You swallow and it’s like your whole body is engulfed in heat.

Your pussy throbs as you squirt over his cock. It feels like you don’t stop cumming for hours and Kai just stares at you completely enraptured as you fall apart in front of him.

He lets you come down from your high for a few minutes before he moves your body, eager to see the potion work. You lift your head to look at him as his clawed hand holds you in the air, directly above his cock. You look at him and begin shaking your head, it won’t fit, there’s no way it will fit.

Before you can voice your protest he lowers you so the tip of his cock is pressing against your opening. His tip comes to a point at the top and pushes into you with ease. Your walls stretch wide as your pussy struggles to take more of his tip that quickly flares out. You give a small whine at the feeling of the stretch. It’s not painful but it is uncomfortable and you haven’t even gotten the full head of his cock in you yet.

Kai gives your body a short but hard tug down and with that the head of his cock slips in full. He lets out a sound halfway between a groan and a growl at the feeling. Your pussy is already squeezing him so tight and there is so much more to go.

You feel him jerk your body down again and his shaft starts filling you inch by inch. You already feel so full but your body seems to be adjusting to the massive intrusion much better than you thought it would. You are only about half way when he lifts you up and drops you back down to that same halfway point. The stretching sensation is too much and your pussy clamps down on his cock as you cum. You let out a scream of your dragon's name as you orgasm hard on his cock.

The feeling seems to be too much for Kai as he begins unloading his cum inside of you. He doesn’t move either of you as the orgasms continue, just lets you both ride out the waves of pleasure.

He comes to his sense first and looks at your fucked out body, still sitting halfway on his cock. His cum seems to be too much for your small body and it still manages to pour out of your pussy despite his cock still filling you up. His cum adds a whole new level of lubricant and he decides to loosen his grip to let gravity do the work for him.

You begin to slide down, groaning as you do but you stop after another inch or two with a whimper. He groans as he feels his cock come to a halt as it presses against your cervix. Knowing your body will adjust for him, he grabs your waist once more and starts to move your hips in small circles, grinding the tip of his cock into the opening of your cervix.

Your pant at the intense sensation and cry out in a mix of pleasure and discomfort as the head of his cock bullies its way through your cervix. Kai loosens his grip on your waist again and he watches you slowly slide down his dick until your swollen pussy lips are touching the scales at the base of his cock.

He gives you only a moment to adjust before he picks you up about half way off his cock and lets you go. You drop back down with a scream and he grins, his sharp teeth on full display. He continues to repeat the action quickly becoming obsessed with the sensations of your pussy around his cock.

You are in a world of ultimate pleasure. His cock has you so stretched out it is like every nerve in your cunt is exposed to his thrusts. Your g-spot is being caressed on every stroke upwards and every drop back down onto his cock.

“ you look so fucking perfect taking my cock. Look down at your stomach baby. Do you see that? You can see my cock buried inside of you from the outside. Fuck so perfect baby. I’m going to flood your womb with my cum. Fill you up until there’s no doubt that you carry our dragons”. He continues to groan at the sight. Your belly is fully distended from his cock in your womb. You can even see the ridges that decorate his cock and the sight only makes you hotter.

Your back arches as you cum on his cock once again as his thrusts never stop. Your pussy squeezes and massages his cock as you scream in ecstasy. He speeds up his thrust and you just keep cumming. One orgasm ends as another one begins and he continues to use your overworked cunt for his pleasure.

You feel your tits bounce with each thrust and you reach up to grab them, needing something to hold onto as you seem to lose your mind. Your voice is already getting raw and scratchy from your screaming and moaning. Kai seems to have no intention to give you a break until he gets his own pleasure.

He shifts your body slightly and the small change in angle changes everything. He hits your g-spot directly with each thrust now and you can feel your body tense up. The feeling is overwhelming and your clit feels like it is about to burst. Kai brings one claw down and carefully strokes your swollen clit. Your pussy lips are stretched so far around the girth of his cock, your poor clit is completely exposed and at his mercy.

Your back arches and you let out a scream and your entire body tenses then releases. Your juices shoot from your pussy with force as your gush all over his cock. Your cunt spasms and grips his cock as if it was trying to trap him inside you forever.

It becomes too much for Kai and he lets out a ferocious roar and his cock begins filling you up. He keeps himself buried inside you completely as he shoots rope after rope of his thick and hot seed inside you. Your stomach bulges out from the pressure, distending past what should be possible.

He keeps cumming and the pressure becomes too much. His warm cum begins spurting out of your pussy despite his cock still keeping you plugged up, your womb and cunt already stretched to their limits. You cum again with tears streaming down your face as he gives your clit a firm pinch between his claws.

Kai finally relents and you rest on his lower stomach as you both catch your breath. You are covered in sweat and your lower half is completely covered in his thick cum. You whimper from overstimulation as he pulls you off his cock. He sits you up on his stomach, you back leaning against his cock.

You hear him let out a noise between a moan and a growl as his cock twitches against your back. You follow his eyes to see what he is looking at and gasp as your eyes meet your abdomen. Your womb is so full of his cum that your belly is swollen. It looks as if you are already four months pregnant. Your pussy clenches causing some more cum to pour out. Your dragon doesn’t seem to like that as he grabs you and pushes your lower half harder against his scales, trying to keep the remaining cum trapped inside you.

You move to lay against him again, snuggling into his warmth. You already feel yourself drifting off from pure exhaustion when you hear him say, “Sleep my perfect Mate. Perhaps in a few days we will see if the potion changed all your holes to be able to take me”.

Let me know what you think 🖤💕❤️❤️🖤

#monster boyfriend #monster x reader #monster husband #monster smut #monster x human #teratophillia #monster fudger #monster fuqqer #dragon x reader #dragon husband #dragon boyfriend #dragon x human #dragon smut #monster romance #monster #my writing #monster fucker

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ceilidho · 9 months

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prompt: Ghost only takes you half-seriously when you say you want to see other people. He has just the man in mind. tags: dubcon; threesome; anal (2.5k)

He doesn’t so much as twitch when you stumble over your words in an effort to get it out.

“I don’t think this is working,” you say, hands clenched into trembling fists at your sides. “I think we should start seeing other people.”

The only bit of it that Ghost really pays attention to is the fact that you decided to make this little announcement while he’s in the middle of taking apart and cleaning his gun at the kitchen table. His little spitfire girl. Not a lick of fear in you, just a fistful of attitude and snark. The attitude’s ensconced now in your trepidation, a bit smothered under it, nervousness a clear trill in your voice, making it warble, but it shows itself in the downward slant of your brows. Delightful girl.

“That right?” he grunts, jamming the lubricated cotton mop into the bore of the gun. You flinch at the sudden movement, nervous eyes trained on his hands. Ghost makes a note to apologize with his mouth later on.

“Yes,” you croak, then cough to clear your throat. “I’ve, um…I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I think it’ll be better for—for both of us. It’s just…it’s not working out.”

The cigarette dangling from between his lips stinks up the room. Poor girl, he thinks pityingly when you scrunch up your nose and eye it resentfully. Always trying to get him to quit. It’s just shit luck for you that he’s never been good at quitting things, at letting anything go. Everything he’s ever lived through clings to his skin like smoke.

He ashes it out in the little turquoise ceramic pot on the table, a trinket he’d once picked up in Tala'a Kebira years ago while in Morocco on some other business. You look marginally less irked with the cig put out, but that just means that more of his attention can focus squarely on you, which leaves you a bit wide-eyed under his stare.

“For a while, hm?” Ghost asks. It comes out teasingly, if only to him. The lilt in his voice is a tricky one to catch.

You nod; the note must have slipped through your hands like smoke. “There’s a girl I found online that’s studying abroad right now. Offered to sublet me her room while I look for a place. I thought maybe, um…maybe tomorrow I’d go.”

“Don’t worry about all of that,” he says, already dismissing the conversation from his mind. “Won’t be back for another week anyway—no reason for you to run off if I’m not even around.”

“Oh.” You shift from side to side, thinking it over. “I guess. How long will you be gone?”

“A week. Two weeks tops.” Plenty of time for him to sort out this mess. Figure out what exactly caused you to get all jumpy and eager to try out other people.

He smiles internally. Little bird probably just can’t stand how often he’s away, poor thing. It’d be enough to make any girl upset—the constant leaves of absence, gone months without being able to send word, showing up bruised and bloody on the doorstep only to have you fall to pieces trying to put him back together.

There are options though. He’s not opposed to adding someone new either—in fact, he has just the man in mind.

Ghost has been holding Johnny back because he always thought you preferred to just be with one man (and Christ, the whining he’d had to deal with from Johnny, always begging to see you or begging Ghost for even just your panties, anything at all because he was so desperate and Ghost wouldn’t let him have you), but now?

Now there’s no reason to hold Johnny by the collar when he comes over for dinner. Now there’s no reason to kick Johnny from under the table when he leans just a bit too close to you when you’re sitting down to eat, eyes locked on the glimpse of your chest peeking out of your shirt and damn near drooling on it. Now there’s no reason to listen to Johnny jack himself off to the point of tears while trying to get some shut eye on a mission, the only crumpled up photo that Ghost had ever allowed him to take cupped close to his face.

He really pitied the poor mutt before, no pretty girl at home, his only crush being his superior’s girl. But Ghost is magnanimous—he’s a generous man. If you want to see other people, he has the perfect puppy for you to play with.

When you smile, still a bit unsure, he has to smother a grin. “Okay. I’ll stay ‘till then and look.”

The look Johnny gives him when he brings it up is equal parts disbelief and fevered need. “Say that again, Lt?”

“You’re coming over after we wrap this shit up. Bird’s been asking about a third.”

He chokes, scrambling to his feet. The temporary base is damp, always on the frigid side of things so Johnny’s still in uniform for the most part, the fabric rustling in his haste to get up off his bed. It’s not a place either of them are eager to spend more time in than absolutely necessary. The lack of space means that the two of them are made to bunk together as always, sharing a room with two cots and a small en suite, the tub still wet from Ghost’s shower.

“Christ, yer serious? No joke, sir?”

Johnny pushes his head back into Ghost’s hand when Ghost reels him by the hair, dropping a firm close-mouthed kiss onto the centre of his forehead through the fabric of the mask. “She was clear about it. Why? Gettin’ cold feet on me now?”

“No, sir,” Johnny protests, shaking his head as much as he can in Ghost’s grip, eyes shimmering a bit. “I can bring over a bottle o’ wine if ye like. Somethin’ fancy to set the mood.”

Their closeness is not unusual; Johnny’s always been a tactile man, favouring touch over words. One of their small similarities; their shared modes of existing in the world. There’s a line in the sand where you’re concerned that Ghost has been clear on, but he’s used to always having a hand somewhere on Soap, keeping him close. Now, he gets to keep him even closer.

His bird really has the best ideas.

Ghost snorts, knocks their heads together. “Just bring yourself, pup.”

He ignores the way Johnny’s breath hitches, the way he hurries into the bathroom and slams the door behind him the second Ghost lets go. The frantic eager sounds from behind the door when the water runs, only muffling the loudest of his groans. He probably had his dick choked in his fist the second the door shut, a thick nut swirling down the drain within the first five minutes.

They ship out the next morning, exhausted from the week’s work. No amount of sleep out in the field is ever good enough, especially not in cots barely built to accommodate men of their size. Especially not Ghost. Johnny dozes off on his shoulder in the plane, sinking into a deep sleep to compensate for the hours spent tossing and turning the night before. Ghost uses the flight to get a headstart on his paperwork, enough so that he’s not held up on base when they land back home.

He doesn’t give you a heads up that he’s home earlier than planned; no need to give you enough time to pack a bag and schlep it over to that place you’d found. It’s better for everyone if you’re caught a bit off guard, just a little frazzled. Ghost’s not entirely unsympathetic—he knows you’ll overthink things if he gives you any time to yourself.

It’s endearing the way you gape up at him, eyes flitting between him and Johnny, when he finally makes it home. For the few times that Johnny’s been over, it’s not an everyday thing; his visits are always planned and strictly timed, Ghost monitoring him to make sure he doesn’t overstep his bounds. Seeing him with Ghost in your foyer must be strange, must put you on edge.

“Simon, you didn’t tell me you were—” you start and then pause, swallowing. You look over his shoulder at Johnny, smile stiff, uncomfortable. “Hi Johnny.”

You’re always a good girl, not wanting to argue in front of company.

“Heel,” Ghost says, steel in his voice when Johnny almost lurches from his side. The other man glances over at him with wild eyes, almost on the brink of disobeying, but he holds in the end and stays put. Ghost’s eyes soften when he looks back at you. “Have a nice week, pet?”

“Yes—sorry, I’m glad you’re home safe,” you say, flustered, taking his back from him to drop in the usual place in the hall. “I, um—” again, you eye Johnny nervously, unsure of how much you can say in front of him, “—I found a place…for…you know.”

“‘Course,” Ghost agrees, shucking his boots at the door and giving Johnny a shake by his coat until he does the same. “Missed you too, pet. C’mere.”

He muffles your protests with his mouth when he stalks forward and pulls you in for a wet kiss, rolling the mask up and off at the same time. You’re a bit stiff in his arms until he slips you some tongue and the resistance leaks out of you, helpless the second he gets his hands on you. Your eyes are still a bit misty when he pulls away, fingers clutched in the collar of his shirt like a reflex. Second nature to cling to him. His chest puffs up at the gesture.

“Thought about what you said the other week, bird, and you’re right.”

You blink, coherence coming back to you, shaking your head to divest yourself of the momentary confusion. “I am?”

“‘Course. Smartest girl in the world, isn’t she, Johnny?” Ghost asks over his shoulder, slipping a hand into your hair at the same time to hold you in place. It makes you frown, his actions not mirroring his words.

“Aye, sir,” Johnny hums, nodding eagerly. Boots off, he stumbles forward, crowding around you from the other side, not realizing that they’ve backed you into a wall until it presses against you, trapping you in place. “Bonnie ‘n sharp as a whip. Always thought so, sir.”

“That’s right,” he agrees, tightening his fingers in your hair until you squeal, brows furrowing in that way they do when you’re right on the precipice of pain and relief. “Only a smart, brave girl would ask for what she needs. You’re just lonely when I’m away, isn’t that right, pet?”

“I’m—I’m what?” you splutter, hands planted on Ghost’s chest, trying to push him away to no avail. He hardly notices it.

“Go on, Johnny,” Ghost murmurs. “Since she asked so nicely. Give her a kiss.”

That’s all his mutt needs to hear.

You huff and puff with the strain it takes to take Ghost’s cock after a week and a half away.

You’re always tighter when he comes back, an effort to work you up to taking him again; he lets Johnny get you prepped this time, slobbering all over your pussy in his eagerness, plugging you with three fingers before you’re even close to ready. He gets off on the way you howl, rutting his cock into the sheets of your bed while he keeps you pinned by a thick arm over your stomach.

Ghost has to scruff him after that. He takes over, running a soothing tongue over where it hurts until you cry big, fat tears and come a couple times. He makes sure you’re taken care of before it gets tough. You’re mindless by the time he moves off you to retrieve the lube from the bedside drawer, only coming back to yourself when he turns you over onto your belly and spreads the cheeks of your ass. It unwinds something in his chest to hear you yelp when he pushes a finger into your ass, like coming home.

This is why he does what he does: to get this when the job is done.

It’s not often he gets to do this, usually too big for you to take comfortably in your ass. Johnny’s not that much smaller, in fairness, so he works you up to two and then three fingers before lying down on the bed and pulling you over him. Your legs tremble when you straddle him, fingers digging into his chest when he lowers you onto his cock for the first time in a week.

“There we go,” he says, grunting when you pull his chest hair a little. “That’s a good girl. We just about done crying now?”

Ghost smiles when you shake your head stubbornly, eyes still filled with tears. “This isn’t what I meant, Simon.”

“You can cuss me out when Johnny’s done, alright? That make you happy?”

He almost chuckles when Johnny clambers back onto the bed in his haste to get his hands back on you, his pants still hanging off an ankle until he gives it a shake once his palms fit over your waist.

“Slowly, pup,” Ghost cautions, reaching around to spread a cheek. He coos when you flinch, whispering for you to relax.

Johnny’s eyes roll back into his head when he pushes in, hips stuttering forward until Ghost snarls and he stops, letting out a deep, shuddering breath to calm himself down. Even for Ghost, it’s intense; you tighten around him when Johnny pushes in, only letting up when he cups your cheek and draws you down for a kiss, loosening you up with his tongue.

“Sir, I can—fuck, fuck, fuck,” Johnny whines, back curving when he drops his head. “She’s so fuckin’ tight, I can—swear I can feel you, sir.”

He’s not wrong. Ghost swears he can feel it himself, Johnny’s cock in his pretty bird’s ass while his is stuffed deep in your cunt. You pant through the stretch, words half-croaked out, unintelligible. It’s better that way. He loves listening to you sing, but you’ve been in a right mood these past couple of weeks. Just needed a good lay to sort you out.

“Simon,” Johnny begs, thrusting forward until he bottoms out in you, making your pulse skyrocket. “I cannae breathe.”

“Yes, you can,” Ghost says dismissively, wiping at the drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth. “Give ‘er a sec and then you can move.”

“So, so, so hot. ‘M gonna come—”

He reaches behind you to wrap a hand around Johnny’s throat, giving it a squeeze. Johnny’s eyes bulge. “You don’t get to come until she does, pup. That’s all the time, got it?”

He doesn’t pay any mind to how Johnny nods and mumbles his little yes, sirs after that—he’s a grown man, maybe not as grown as Ghost, but man enough to compose himself until you stop trembling and sweating so hard.

It’d been a mite difficult to wrangle you into bed. He understands. He’d let you talk yourself red in the face about this not being what you meant by ‘seeing other people’, but Ghost hears the said and the unsaid. You wouldn’t be still in his house a whole week later if you really wanted to leave.

“Alright, pet,” he grins, running his thumb over your bottom lip until it drops open and you let him run it over your teeth. “Hang on now.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #simon ghost riley #cod simon riley #soap mactavish #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost/reader #ghost/soap/reader #ghoap x reader

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leahwllmsn · 10 months

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beautiful crazy

leah williamson x reader

Leah is always there to tell you how beautiful you are. You don't think much of it.

The five times Leah tells you you’re beautiful and the one time you finally do something about it.

; fluff

You don't know why Leah likes to stare at you randomly. You figure it’s simply because the girl likes to space out and of all the times you catch her doing so, Leah just happens to be spacing out in your direction.

Yeah. That must be it. Why else would Leah be staring at you?

Although with the amount of times you’ve caught her recently, that reason isn’t making a lot of sense anymore.

And it’s not that you mind Leah’s staring (you don't mind anything Leah does), it’s just that you always seem to be doing stupid things whenever Leah’s gaze is on you.

Like last week, you were baking some brownies when Leah decided to join you in the kitchen counter with her book. You were sure that Leah spent more time looking at you than her book and it resulted in your brownies being too sweet (Alessia said she was going to instantly get diabetes after one bite and Katie couldn’t stop coughing because even sugar doesn’t taste this sweet, y/n).

(Leah, on the other hand, happily munched on her slice, saying that it was the best brownies she had ever eaten.)

(You had an ear-splitting grin on your face the whole day.)

You can’t count how many times something like that has happened and you don't know why, but you do know that it will keep on happening if Leah can’t stop looking at you.

Now, you’re at training and Leah is on the other side of the field but you can feel her eyes on you. And so far, you’ve tripped once but you’re able to brush it off because no one (but Leah) is paying attention.

It goes smoothly after. You decide that the only way to focus is to forget about Leah’s presence and just focus on your game.

You hear Beth shout your name, passing you the ball. You receive it and turn towards the goal. Too easy. Until you stupidly glance to your left and lock eyes with Leah. Leah who is running in your direction and is about to tackle the ball away from you, but you don’t care because her eyes are so blue, even from a distance, and you always do feel like floating whenever you catch a glimpse of those baby blues.

The next thing you know, you’re on the ground, your ankle throbbing in pain. Thank god it doesn’t feel like anything serious.

“y/n!”

You hear worried voices asking if you’re okay but all you can focus on is the feel of familiar soft hands on you.

“y/n, hey, you okay?” Leah is crouching down next to you, her hands rubbing comforting circles on your shoulder. “I would say I’m sorry, but you tripped on your own feet, love. I haven't even caught up to you yet.”

Leah shoots you an amused look and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“Yeah…” you give her a sheepish smile. “I’m okay. Something’s wrong with me today. I can’t seem to focus.”

Leah shakes her head and helps you up. “Well, you did perfectly. As always.”

“You think so?”

“Of course, beautiful girl. Now let’s get you some ice.”

II.

It’s one of those days. You wake up with a blaring headache, you forget to give your dog some food before going to your team photoshoot, and you leave your good luck charm in the shape of a bear keychain at home.

It isn’t a good day.

Your teammates are taking their turn in front of the camera and you’re still in the dressing room. You don't feel like you’ll do your best today and you’re afraid of disappointing everyone.

You hear the doors open and see Leah enter the room from the reflection in the mirror. You don't know why your heart starts beating irregularly at the sight of the blonde.

“Hey, l/n. You’re up next.” Leah informs you.

You smile at her through the mirror. “Okay, I’ll be right out.”

Leah comes closer until she’s standing behind you. Leah is close enough that you’re able to catch a whiff of her perfume and you start to feel the familiar warmth in your chest whenever Leah is near.

“You seem tense,” Leah says, her hands going up to massage your shoulders. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah…” you trail off. You hope Leah can’t tell that you’re lying.

But Leah has always been able to read you like an open book. “You’re lying.”

You laugh. “I was lying, wasn’t I?” you bring your hands up to Leah’s that are still on your shoulder and give it a squeeze. “It’s just not my day today. I think the biggest worry right now is Ted.”

“Ted?”

“My lucky charm? You know him. I left him at home.” you pout and you hear a giggle coming from the blonde behind you.

“Ah yes. Good ole Ted. Are you worried that you won’t do well without it?”

“Leah,” you sigh, grabbing the lipstick in front of you and applying some more on your lips. “It’s my lucky charm, I know I won’t do well.” you see a frown make its way to Leah’s face and you turn to face her. “Why are you frowning? You’ll get wrinkles.”

Leah rolls her eyes at you, a fond smile on her face.

“What?” you grin at her. “It’s true, you know.”

Leah rolls her eyes again, that damn smile still on her lips, and you smack her arms playfully.

“Love,” she starts. “I just don’t like how you’re doubting yourself just because of a bear.”

“Excuse me, it’s not just a bear.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leah tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and you can’t understand why you’re suddenly so nervous. “You’re very beautiful, darling. You don’t need a lucky charm for a simple photoshoot.”

“I appreciate you trying to make me feel better,” you smile at her. “But I’ve always had it with me. I don’t even know how I forgot about it. I swear I had it chained to my bag.”

Leah looks deep in thought for a few seconds until you see her face lights up. “I can be your lucky charm then.”

“What?” you’re laughing until you see the serious look on Leah’s face. “You’re serious about this.”

Leah narrows her eyes at you. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You hum, your finger tapping your chin in thought. It doesn’t make sense to you how a person can be someone else’s lucky charm. But seeing Leah’s excited face, you decide to try to make sense of it all. “You do realize that if you’re going to be my lucky charm, you’ll always have to be with me.”

The grin Leah gives you makes you feel that no amount of bear keychains can give you the luck of being on the receiving end of Leah’s smile.

“Duh. I know. I’ll be there for everything.”

“That’s a big promise, Leah.”

“And I’ll keep it.”

III.

You wake up on a Sunday at 5 in the morning—it’s a routine. You would then pour yourself a glass of whatever juice is in the fridge and drink it all in one go before changing into your running clothes to run for an hour or two. And once you get back to your shared apartment with Leah, you would cook yourself breakfast and eat it alone because Leah likes to sleep in on Sundays and wouldn’t be up until at least a few hours later.

You enjoy your peaceful Sunday mornings.

Today though, instead of coming home to a quiet apartment, you find Leah in the kitchen with music blaring from her speakers—it's loud and you’re almost positive that you’re getting a complaint from your neighbours later on.

A curious look makes its way across your face because you know Leah likes to sleep in on Sundays. So it’s definitely a surprise to you to see Leah up and about on a Sunday morning instead of tucked away in her bedroom.

“You’re awake.” your voice sounds more like a question rather than a statement.

Leah turns around and you see the biggest grin on her face. You find it to be the most adorable sight to come home to.

“I am! I’m cooking breakfast.”

“You are?”

“Hey,” Leah narrows her eyes at you. “What’s with that tone, missy?”

You go to take water from the fridge (you mostly want to hide the automatic smile that appears on your face). “What tone?”

“Like you can’t believe that I’m actually cooking breakfast.”

You take a sip of your drink and lean against the counter. “I’m just surprised that you’re awake, that’s all. It’s Sunday.”

“Well, I am awake and I’m cooking breakfast,” Leah points a spatula at your face. “Come help me.”

You nod. You can never resist Leah, especially when Leah is wearing the pyjamas that you got her (it has tiny ducks on it) and the baby hair falling out of her messy ponytail is making her look so, so endearing. “Let me shower first.”

“Good idea, you smell.” Leah says, her voice teasing.

“Oi, Williamson!” you warn.

Leah turns back around to face the stove. “I’m kidding. You still smell nice even after a run.”

“Now I know that you’re lying.”

Leah laughs. “I’m not!”

“Sure,” your tone doesn’t sound convincing. “Even though I don’t smell, I still need to shower because I look terrible right now.”

You see Leah stop her movements. She puts down her spatula on the pan and faces you again. This time, you see a scowl on the blonde’s face.

“I think you’re really beautiful right now.” Leah’s voice is soft, almost like she’s too afraid to say it out loud.

You can feel your cheeks heat up. “I’m not. It’s okay, you can admit it. I won’t get offended.”

Leah steps into your personal space and you feel your breath hitch at the close proximity. “I mean it when I say you’re beautiful, y/n.”

No matter how good Leah smells in the morning (like fresh flowers and mint and candies), you shouldn’t be thinking if Leah’s lips taste as good as she smells.

“Leah.”

“Hm?”

You swear you see Leah’s gaze drop to your lips, but you decide that it’s just your mind playing tricks on you.

“I have to… uh-” you clear your throat. Leah is still staring at you. There’s something in her gaze that you can’t quite place and you're scared of what it means. “I’m gonna shower now.”

“Okay, smelly.”

You slap Leah’s arm. “You just said I wasn’t smelly!”

Leah’s laughter echoes throughout the kitchen. It’s your favourite sound. “I’m kidding!”

Just before Leah turns back to her cooking, she places a kiss so gentle on your forehead and you’re left to wonder what it would be like to feel Leah’s lips on your own instead.

IV.

You know all the drawbacks of being famous. So an incident of overhearing someone talk about you in a negative light isn’t uncommon at all. You would like to say that you’re used to it, but it never gets easier.

“That’s really y/n l/n?”

“I can’t believe it either. She looks different.”

“Good different?”

“Hah. I’m not even gonna say it. Don’t wanna be too harsh.”

You sink further in your seat as you listen to a couple of girls talk about you two tables away. You look at your phone, trying to drown out all the noise.

y/n: where are you? your drink’s melting

y/n: like olaf

Leah: I’m in front of you ;)

You look up and you’re met with Leah’s smiling face. You can’t help but exhale a breath of relief at having Leah there.

“Olaf? Really?”

You shrug as Leah takes a seat in front of you. “Here’s your coffee. I’m pretty sure all the ice has gone.”

Leah takes a sip of her drink, scrunching her nose the moment she tastes it. “You’re right. Tastes like Olaf.”

You simply roll your eyes in response.

Leah places her drink back down and reaches out to touch your hand. This isn’t uncommon for you—Leah’s hands always seem to find yours. “Sorry for making you wait. Alex was supposed to give me a ride since I wasn’t driving today, but she forgot about me so I took the tube.”

“You… took the tube?” your tone is full of disbelief and you can’t help but laugh at the offended look on Leah’s face.

“It’s not my first time on a tube, why do you sound so shocked?”

“Did you get lost?” you have a teasing smile on your face.

Leah takes another sip of her drink before replying. “I didn’t.”

You hum. “That’s why you’re late, isn’t it? You got lost.”

“I didn’t!” Leah whines, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks.

“Don’t be embarrassed.”

“You shouldn’t be talking,” Leah leans back in her chair and points a finger at you. “You’ve never been on the tube.”

“I have!”

Leah throws her head back in laughter. “When?”

You’re about to reply when you hear it again. You hope that they won’t repeat what they said about you because you know just how protective Leah is.

“Is that Leah Williamson? She looks amazing.”

You see Leah’s signature smirk on her face, her eyebrow raised. You have to agree with that one. Leah does look good (she’s wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans but to you, she’s still the prettiest girl in the café).

“Right? I still can’t believe that’s actually y/n l/n though. She used to be so gorgeous, what happened to her?”

You inwardly cringe at that and you know Leah heard it too with the way her coy smile quickly drops from her face.

Leah abruptly stands up from her seat and your eyes widen. “Leah,” your tone is full of panic. “Sit down.”

You can see how angry Leah looks. You quickly grab Leah’s hand and give it a squeeze in hopes that it can calm her down.

Leah looks down at your hand then back at your face. Leah looks conflicted and you understand what the blonde is feeling—you would do the same if the roles are reversed.

“Leah, forget about it, okay? It’s not worth it.”

Leah takes a deep breath and she finally sits back down. “How can I just forget about it? y/n, they’re—”

“They’re nobodies,” you interrupt. “Their opinions don’t matter to me.”

Leah is quiet for a moment. She then holds your hand in hers again. “Promise me that you won’t remember what they said once we step out of here?”

“Sure, darling.”

“y/n,” Leah sighs. “I know these kind of stuff gets to you sometimes—”

“But I’ll be fine.” Despite your reassuring smile, Leah doesn’t seem convinced. So you lean forward and pinches Leah’s cheeks, hoping to earn a smile from the blonde. “Why do you look so sad?”

Leah swats your hands away but you can see a smile starting to form. “Because, you-” she groans in frustration. “You’re the most beautiful girl and I hate that people think otherwise.”

You look amused at Leah’s answer. “Not everyone is going to have the same opinion as you.” you see Leah about to protest so you quickly put your hand up. “But. Your opinion is the one that matters, so it’s the one I’ll always remember, okay?”

“Then please always remember that I think you’re really beautiful.”

“Okay, sweet cheeks. I will.”

(Leah glares at the girls as you exit the coffee shop, her arms around your shoulder protectively and you know that it’s too late to stop yourself from falling.)

“Is that a new lipstick?”

Your eyebrows quirk in surprise at Leah’s question. Leah is seated on the couch and you’re confused how she's able to tell, especially since you just entered the living room a minute ago. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

Leah shrugs, a small pleased smile on her face. “You’ve never worn that shade before. It looks good. You’re so beautiful.”

You take a seat next to Leah, your heart hammering at Leah’s answer. “You notice.”

“Of course I do.” Leah replies like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You hope she won’t be able to tell just how much effect her words have on you, but it all goes out the window when you hear Leah’s soft giggles next to you. “You’re blushing. So cute.”

You don't know how to reply, you’re mostly afraid that if you open your mouth what comes out would be something that you shouldn’t be saying. So you turn your attention to the TV and you both watch in silence, Leah’s arms brushing against yours every now and then.

You keep on thinking about why you’ve been wanting to say a lot of things to Leah lately—something that isn’t entirely appropriate to say to a best friend.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Why is it that your face is the first thing I see when I wake up and the last thing I think of before I close my eyes?”

“Does your lips taste like how I imagined it to be? Like mint—or cherries, since that seems to be your favourite lip gloss nowadays.”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“y/n?”

“Hm?”

“I said, do you want to watch something else?”

You look at the TV then back at Leah. Honestly, you have no idea what's playing. “No, this is good.”

“Are you sure?” Leah asks. “You don’t seem interested.”

You see the unsure look on Leah’s face and you reach out to caress her cheek. You feel like you’re about to pass out with the way Leah is looking at you.

“I’m very interested, don’t you worry.” you reply, your eyes never leaving Leah’s face.

Leah smiles (your favourite, the one that causes her eyes to shine and puts the stars in the sky to shame) and you feel those words on the tip of your tongue.

“I’m definitely in love with you.”

VI.

The first thing you do after the realization that you’re in love with your best friend is to avoid said best friend at all costs. This means no more weekly meetings at your favourite coffee shop (you call them meetings but Leah would always correct you.

“Just call it a date, y/n! Meetings sound so formal. You don’t only see us as teammates, don't you?”

“What? No. You’re one of my best friends.”

“Then it’s a date.”

You don't think friends go on dates but you keep quiet).

You also don't text back straight away every time Leah texts you, instead you wait a couple of hours. You rarely come home to the apartment—staying most nights at your mom’s place instead. And during training, you talk to everyone but Leah.

If Leah finds it odd, she doesn’t say anything.

Now it’s Saturday again and you’re thinking of ways to tell Leah that you, once again, can’t make it to your weekly coffee dates. But it’s been a month and you’re running out of excuses.

Last week you said you had to help your mom try a new recipe, the week before you said that Kyra had an emergency and she needs you, and you're sure that you’ve used the excuse of not feeling well before (maybe twice).

You know Leah is smart, she’ll figure out sooner or later that you're avoiding her—that is, if she hasn’t figured it out already. And you don't think you’re ready if Leah confronts you about it.

Just a few more weeks. You just need to avoid Leah for a few more weeks and hopefully whatever feeling you have for her will be non-existent and you’ll be back to having weekly platonic coffee dates with her.

Just as you will yourself to stop thinking about the blonde, a text pops up on your phone.

Leah: Hey where are you?

You take a deep breath before replying. You need to quickly think of a reason to not meet her today.

y/n: at my mom’s. why?

Leah: ok

y/n: …?

Leah: I’m coming over

y/n: what??

Leah: Is that a problem

You feel yourself panic. You don't think you’re ready for a confrontation.

y/n: I have plans tonight

Leah: okay? it’s still 3pm

The only thing you know is that you need Leah to not come over. You’re really not ready to have her standing in front of you. You’re scared that you won’t be able to think clearly and will do something insanely stupid (like tell her that you’re very much in love with her).

So you type the first thing on your mind.

y/n: yes, but I need to get ready

y/n: I have a date

Leah: a date?

You close your eyes, hoping that Leah will give up and just tell you that she’ll see you next time. But you should’ve known that Leah is persistent.

Leah: I’ll help you pick an outfit

Leah: Be there in 10

You curse at your inability to keep Leah away, but you’ll be lying if you say that you’re not excited to see her.

Leah doesn’t arrive until half an hour later. You’re in your childhood bedroom when you hear the doorbell ring, immediately making your heart speed up. You don't make a move to leave your room; you stay rooted until ten minutes have passed and you finally decide that maybe, it’s time for you to make your way downstairs.

The first thing you notice once you exit your room is the sound of laughter. Leah and your mom are close—something that fills your chest with warmth every time.

“Sweetheart! Leah here is just telling me about how she almost set the kitchen on fire.”

You can’t help but smile fondly at the memory. “Thank god I was there to save our kitchen.”

“Oh yeah,” Leah smiles at you and you feel like fainting. “Thank god for you.”

“Hi.” you say, standing behind the couch where both Leah and your mom are seated.

“Hi back.”

“Leah says you have a date,” your mom mentions and you freeze. “You never said anything about a date, did you sweetheart.”

“Right,” you scratch the back of your neck. You hope your voice doesn’t show how nervous you are. “A date. I do have that. Tonight.”

“With who?” It’s Leah who asks and you know you’re screwed.

“Just someone…” you trail off.

You see a flash of hurt on Leah’s face and you’ve always hated when Leah is anything but happy. So you squeeze Leah’s shoulder and try your best to smile reassuringly at her even though all you want to do is run far, far away. “Aren’t you going to help me pick an outfit?”

Leah nods. “Of course. You’ll look beautiful in anything but let’s pick the best outfit so your date will be blown away.”

You motion for Leah to follow you, quickly kissing your mom on the cheek before you leave upstairs. You feel yourself getting more and more nervous with each step towards your bedroom.

You try to convince yourself that there’s nothing to be nervous about; Leah has been in your childhood bedroom before. But when Leah immediately throws herself in your bed the moment she enters the room, humming as soon as her head hits the pillows, you know that you do have a right to be nervous.

You can’t screw things up between the both of you, but that’s exactly what you want to do, looking at the sight of Leah in your bedroom, acting like she’s at home.

You open your wardrobe, staring at the few clothes in front of you. “Honestly, there’s nothing nice here, since all my outfits are pretty much at our place.”

“Then why aren’t you getting ready at home?”

You freeze for a second but quickly regain your composure. “I had lunch with mom earlier, might as well get ready here.”

“You still haven’t told me who you’re going on a date with,” Leah asks, you note the tenseness in her voice. “I didn’t even know you’re seeing someone.”

“It’s uh, it’s new.” you stammer, distracting yourself by inspecting the dresses that are on the rack.

You hear Leah shift and the next thing you know she’s standing next to you.

“Let’s see,” Leah hums, her hand tracing your dresses until it lands on something. “I think this one.” Leah takes out a black spaghetti straps dress that lands on your thigh. You have no idea why out of all the dresses in front of you, Leah has to pick that one.

“This is the dress you wore in Ibiza, right?” Leah asks, her eyes roaming around the black clothing.

You nod in reply. “Should I try it on?”

Leah hummed in approval and you silently sigh because you really can’t say no to her. You take the dress and are about to walk to the bathroom when Leah speaks. “I’ve seen you naked all the time, cheeky. Why are you getting all shy now?”

Your eyes widened at the comment. “W-what?”

“What?” Leah asks back. “We’ve changed in front of each other all the time.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“But?”

You swallow nervously. What Leah said is true, but now you’re a mess of feelings, particularly regarding the blonde in front of you. “I’ll change… here… then.” you relents.

Leah goes to sit on the edge of your bed and look at you expectantly.

“But can you like,” you huff. “Close your eyes or something.” Leah lets out a laugh and you whine. “Leah, I’m serious.”

“Alright, alright.” Leah is still laughing but she places her hands over her eyes. “There. Happy?”

You quickly change into the dress Leah picked. You look at yourself in the mirror, the dress fits perfectly, your hair falling down your shoulders in messy waves.

“Can I open my eyes now?”

You snort, forgetting that Leah still has her hands over her eyes. You walk until you're in front of the English skipper and remove Leah’s hand from her face.

“How do I look?” you ask, posing with her hand on her hips.

Leah doesn’t answer straight away, her mouth staying agape for a few seconds until you have to snap your fingers to get her to say something. “Hey, Williamson?”

You see Leah blink a few times (there’s a hint of red on Leah’s cheeks but you don't mention it).

“Sorry,” Leah clears her throat. “You’re really beautiful, y/n.”

It’s at that moment that you realizes two things:

1. Leah has been calling you beautiful a lot. Like, a lot.

2. Every time Leah calls you beautiful, you feel a lot of things at once. Mostly it’s the feeling of wanting to kiss her.

“You think so?”

“Definitely,” Leah nods vehemently. “Your date is so lucky. You’re the most beautiful girl.”

And you can’t help but wonder how many times can a best friend say you’re beautiful until it means something more.

Leah is looking at you with the usual stars in her eyes, her lips curved upwards in a smile, and she looks so gorgeous that you can’t help but blurt out what you’ve been trying to suppress.

“Do you want to be my date then?”

You see a bunch of emotions flash Leah’s face as she tries to register your words in her brain—confused, shocked, apprehension, but you can see the tiny bit of excitement too.

Leah shoots up from the bed. “What?”

“I asked if you wanted to be my date.” You don’t know where all this confidence is coming from. You figure it’s due to the fact that Leah is looking at you like everything starts and stops with you. Like you’re the only thing that matters to her.

“Me?” Leah points at herself, a dumbfounded look on her face.

You try to hide your nervousness with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms across your chest. “Yes, you. Do you see anyone else in this room with us?”

It takes another minute for Leah to take in your words before she gives you an ear-splitting grin. “Did I hear that correctly? Wait—did I understand it correctly? Are you asking me out? You did, didn’t you? You asked me out.”

“Only if you want to, that is,” your nervousness kicked back in with full force. “I know we’re just best friends but-”

Leah cut you off. “You’re saying that you don’t actually have a date tonight, is that right? I can be your date tonight?”

“For god’s sake, yes.”

“So you were lying about having a date?” Leah smiles mischievously at you.

You look away, focusing on the window of your bedroom. “...Maybe.”

“Tsk.”

You turn your attention back to the girl in front of you. “So do you want to go out with me or n-”

“You’re saying that I get to be with the most beautiful girl in the world—no, the most beautiful girl in the universe?”

You bark a laugh at her. “That is so cheesy, Williamson. If you want to go on a date with me then you should tone down that cheesiness.”

Leah joins your laughter and scoops you up in a hug, twirling you around. “Leah!” you immediately wrap your arms around her neck, laughing into her shoulders. “Put me down!”

When Leah does and you can still see the huge grin on her face, you decide to finally figure out what her lips taste like.

And you're right, it does taste like cherries. But most importantly, it tastes like happiness with the way Leah’s grin melts into your lips.

“So were you ever going to tell me you have feelings for me or were you just going to call me beautiful every single day and hope that I took the hint?”

“…Hope you took the hint?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“But you love me.”

“That I do, baby. That I do.”

“I love you too, beautiful.”

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #awfc x reader #lionesses x reader #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #awfc

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ktaerssoi · 5 months

Note

HOW HAVE I READ ALL OF YOUR WRITINGS AND NOT FOLLOWED YOU… ANYWAYS PLS DO AN ANGST WITH KATE MARTIN AND THE READER 🙏🏾

awww tysm for the compliment im blushing 🤭

stone cold

kate martin x fem!reader

(872)

summary: kate martin wants her girlfriend at her game.

you hadn’t been able to make it to kate’s game for a few reasons, the major one being that it was your close friends birthday and you were all going out to lunch. you had thought about canceling and just going to the game instead, but kate had assured you you should go.

so you did.

you had a great afternoon and bonded with not only your friend but others as well. that’s not to say you were watching the game, every now and then you would get a buzz on your phone letting you know Iowa was still in the lead.

you wanted to be there, you did, but you also weren’t upset that you skipped it. that was until you got the final game notification, Iowa had lost because of a random 3 point shot made by the other team with just seven seconds left.

not much later after that the party had dispersed and you were on your way home. you hadn’t heard from kate but you could guess she wasn’t exactly jumping with joy from the outcome of the game.

you had pulled into the apartment car park to see that kate’s car was yet to be in her designated spot. that’s odd, she doesn’t usually take more than 45 minutes to get home after a home game.

heading upstairs, you unlock the door, pushing it open with a sigh. you walk back to your’s and kate’s shared bedroom, getting changed out of your semi-formal clothes in some random pajamas.

you hear the door unlock as your sitting in the living room a little while later, “hey kate, i heard about the game, sorry-“ you’re cut off when you see kate hold up her hand, motioning for you to stop talking. “sorry,” you whisper as she sits down beside you, lifting your legs up and placing them now over her lap.

“sorry, just a stressful game.” the words are meant to be apologetic, but she says it with a hard stare forward, not even looking at you. her hand is resting on your ankle, and you feel her hand tighten and loosen a few times.

"so how was your little date." you look to see kate clenching her jaw, obviously annoyed. "it wasn't a date k, but it was okay i guess, i kept getting distracted by the notifications about the game." she nods, brushing some fly aways from her ponytail back down to her scalp. "if you were so distracted you should have just come to the game. it was sort of an important one."

you're stunned for a moment, not totally sure how to respond. "kate, you know i would have stayed if you asked me to? i thought you were okay with me going, you had told me you were." you sit up straighter on the couch, pulling your legs out of kate's lap to your chest.

she looks at you for what seems to be the first time since she got home, "yeah well i thought you would get the hint that i really did want you there, i had told you it was important to me so many times." her elbows are on her knees now as she "explains" to you.

"okay well then you obviously need better communication skills, because that message was not clear." kate groaned at your comment, annoyed that you weren't understanding. "the point was expressed perfectly clear, you just don't even pay attention to me anymore!" kate was standing in front of you now, no, towering over you now.

she usually looked kind and sweet and like a living teddy bear, but at the moment you just saw jealousy take over. "kate you and i both know that i pay plenty attention to you. the issue is when i, god forbid, give anyone else an ounce of my time." you cross your arms, looking up at her trying to get a sense of what she was thinking. you couldn't.

kate takes a deep breath, nodding. "yeah, you're right i know, it's just, you're like my good luck charm. i feel like i can't play well without you in the stands watching me. you're what keeps me going durning games, i just don't know what to think without thinking of you." kate's eyes are glossy as tears start to fall down her cheeks, prompting you to open your arms wide for kate to come lay with you.

"kate, babe, you know it's not me who makes you win? its your talent, and your passion, and your sportsmanship. i'm only here to cheer for you, and trust me, if i am not there in person i am most definitely cheering you on from somewhere. always." you kiss the top of her head as she buries herself deeper into your embrace, not wanting to let go for a moment.

she lets loud a quiet "mhmm" before quickly drifting off to sleep, finally being able to relax in your arms. even after a fight, you guys could never spend more than five minutes without one another. you quickly joined her in sleep, waking up the next morning in a tangle of limbs.

"morning babe," kate mumbles as she pulls you impossibly closer.

okay chat, can someone please explain to me why only my paige posts do good?? like don't get me wrong i love p, but where is my caitlin clark love story?? also wtf is happening with them? i keep seeing like sad edits but idk what happened 😭 anyway, thats it from me tonight. - kate

#caitlin clark #wcbb #paige bueckers #caitlin clark x reader #kate martin #paige bueckers fic #iowa hawkeyes #iowa wbb #kate martin x reader

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good-chimes · 1 year

Text

THE RULES OF BUTTERCUP CAMP

Rule 1: No friendly fire in the camp.

Rule 1a: NO GRAVEL, NO SAND, NO FALLING BLOCKS

Rule 1b: SCAR THIS MEANS YOU

--- I dont know What you’re talking about

--- You know exactly what I’m talking about!

Rule 1c: Grian is not allowed to make Scar strip down to his underwear on the Perimeter edge to ‘find all the sand’; this makes us look bad in front of Doc.

--- He had it in his SHOE

--- counter-rule!! Actually this makes us look GReat in front of doc. my abs intimidate him.

--- There’s no such thing as a ‘counter rule’ and your abs don’t intimidate anyone

--- mumbo agrees with me!!

--- I. Um. I just think Scar’s abs could be good PR. I’d be impressed if I were Doc.

Rule 2: All Buttercups must remember at all times that Doc is the enemy and we are here to TAKE HIM DOWN.

Rule 3: Goateater is not allowed to eat Mumbo’s pillow.

Rule 3a: we should leave GOateater alone because she’s doing her Best

--- Scar, she’s doing her best to eat my pillow!

--- this is proving resorcefullness and initive like a good Buttercup!

Rule 4: Mumbo’s cooking tastes like a camping mat and he’s not allowed on the cooking rota

Rule 5: grian cant cook us eggs for more than 2 meals in one day

Rule 6: I have to say I agree with Rule 5.

--- Mumbo needs to LEARN HOW RULES WORK

--- and also stop being RUDE about my COOKING

Rule 7: Goateater is not allowed in Mumbo’s bed under any circumstances.

--- mumbo is biased against Goateater!!

--- Then make her sleep in your bed, Scar!

Rule 8: Grian is allowed to push Scar into the Perimeter if he does the sand thing one more time

Rule 9: Grian is allowed to push Scar into the Perimeter if he refuses to put a shirt back on and is being really obnoxious about it

Rule 10: Grian is allowed to push Scar into the Perimeter if he keeps snoring at night

--- Mate, we’re getting some expansion of powers here that I’m not entirely comfortable with.

--- yknow its not tJHAT Bad

--- Okay, so, Scar, listen, just because you’ve never minded doesn’t mean Grian should be able to do what he likes. This is setting a precedent. We need to talk about this.

Rule 11: Grian is allowed to push anyone into the Perimeter for any reason necessary

--- I told you! I TOLD you!

--- Cmon Mumbo a man’s gotta have hobbies

--- Not threats-of-immediate-violence-to-his-two-closest-friends hobbies!

--- WAnt some sand?

--- I CAN LITERALLY SEE WHAT YOU TWO WRITE HERE. SCAR I AM COMING FOR YOU.

--- Good LUck :)

Rule 12: Grian is not allowed to keep stealing Mumbo’s HotGuy poster for his own tent then denying it.

Rule 12a: Grian is encouraged to get his own poster or pay Mumbo 16 diamonds.

Rule 13: Buttercups are reminded to focus their efforts on DOC and how everything is DOC’S FAULT, not SPYING ON THEIR FRIENDS about POSTERS.

Rule 14: Goateater is not allowed in Mumbo’s entire tent.

Rule 15: Goateater is allowed whrever she likes, including in MUmbos tent.

Rule 16: Scar is not allowed to write rules that contradict previous rules.

Rule 17: Mumbo is not allowed to do that either!!

Rule 17a: If Mumbo and Scar don’t stop fighting over the rules board and GET US SOME DRINKING WATER LIKE THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO then Grian gets to throw them both in the Perimeter

--- I thought everything was Doc’s fault.

--- Sometimes it’s your fault, Mumbo!

Rule 18: Look, can we have some sort of punishment here that isn’t ‘Grian pushes people in the perimeter?’ Only he’s not pushing himself in the perimeter, and last night he blew up a firework experiment in the campfire and took half my moustache off.

Rule 18a: That was obviously Doc’s fault.

--- I don’t think it’s Doc’s fault if you did it yourself! In fact, you’re the reason we’re here in the first place. There’s sand in my sleeping bag and I’ve lost half my moustache and Goateater keeps eating my shoes!

--- also I gotta pointout G you never paid me for those fireworks

--- Listen, Buttercups, the rules are very clear about who’s to blame. It’s Doc’s fault.

--- That’s pretty rich coming from you, Grian!

--- also goateater is perfect and hasn’t done anything wrong

--- Shut up, Scar, this is Grian’s fault. I’m making a new rule.

Rule 19: I think we should blame Grian for everything

Rule 20: I secnd this rule

Rule 21: Oh, yeah? Well, I think we should blame SCAR for getting me BAD FIREWORKS

Rule 21a: those were top quality scarland fireworks, Mister!

Rule 22: It was Scar who technically broke the tunnel bore so he’s the reason we’re here

Rule 23: I mean, I guess—Scar, mate, you did do that.

Rule 24: I think we should blame Scar for everything

Rule 25: now wait A MINute

Rule 26: Yes, honestly, it’s mainly Scar’s fault.

Rule 27: Its not!

Rule 28: It’s either you or Grian. I think either way we can all agree I’m the innocent victim here.

Rule 29: What – okay, fine, new plan! I think we should blame MUMBO for everything!

Rule 30: yeah!

NEW RULE: MUMBO IS BANISHED FROM THE BUTTERCUP CAMP

NEW RULE: OH I AM, AM I? WELL THEN, GRIAN IS BANISHED FROM THE BUTTERCUP CAMP!

NEW RULE: OKAY! I GUESS THIS IS MY CAMP NOW! IM MOVING JELLIE INTO YOUR TENTS AND SERVS YOU BOTH RIGHT!

Rule 34: Guys?

Rule 35: …guys?

…

board suspended :(

…

Rule 36: fine I’m back

Rule 37: strewing my bed with cherry blossom wasn’t actually necessary

Rule 38: Aw, Scar, you shouldn’t have.

--- i missed you guys

--- I missed you guys too!

--- It’s been TWENTY MINUTES

--- admit it G you missed us

--- Fine I did

--- But I think I have time for a second shot

--- GRIAN

--- joking <3

Rule 39: All previous rules are suspended.

Rule 1: It’s Doc’s fault.

Rule 2: Grian is still allowed to push people into the perimeter.

--- mumbo, wheres Goateater?

--- Special mission, mate, don’t worry about it.

WHY HAS SOMETHING **EATEN** ALL MY ***CROCS***!

YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS, BUTTERCUPS!!

– G.O.A.T.

p.s. Also kindly return my hotguy poster, Grian, I know that this was you

#goodtimeswithscar #gtws #grian #mumbo jumbo #buttercup trio #buttercups #mumscarian #though you can read as /p or /r #glossywrites

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beenbaanbuun · 8 months

Text

wearing his hoodie w/jongho

words - an amount

genre - smut…

warnings - fingering, degradation (slut), nicknames (baby, honey, good girl), manhandling because of course, cutie patootie jongho, dom!jongho

jongho likes to pretend he doesn’t like it when you wear his clothes

like, you’ll be walking around in one of his hoodies and he’ll just sit and watch you with a disinterested look

or what he assumes is a disinterested look, anyway

everyone bar him can see the cute little smirk that he’s trying so desperately, and yet failing so miserably, to hide

sometimes you’ll ask him what’s wrong and he’ll just respond with ‘that’s my hoodie’ as if trying to insinuate that you shouldn’t be wearing it

but when you suggest (threaten) that you take it off, he just insists that you keep it on

“you’re already wearing it now, baby,” he tries to keep his voice level, but you can hear the panic behind it, “may as well just keep it on, right?”

sometimes you leave it on, but sometimes you don’t

you just like to see the disappointed pout he wears once he realises you’re not wearing it anymore

but if he struggles to hide his true feelings when you’re fully dressed, imagine wearing his hoodie with nothing but a pair of panties

this man will not be able to take his eyes off of you

there’s a cushion that has taken permanent residence over his crotch and when you ask about it he just says he wants to hold something

“well, why don’t you hold onto me instead?” you tease, keeping an innocent lilt to your voice, “i’m sure i’m nicer to squeeze than a measly bit of fabric.”

his already glazed over eyes go wide and he shakes his head

“no! i’m, uh… mad at you,” he stutters out

you take a few steps closer

“mad at me?” you grab the bottom of the hoodie and begin to play with the fabric, completely ‘innocently’

it’s your your fault if the material lifts up a few times to reveal the purple lace

it’s also not your fault that it’s jongho’s favourite pair you’re wearing - the one that matches his mic

jongho does a few slow blinks as he tries to keep his gaze on your face and not on your soft thighs that you keep exposing more of every time your hands pull as the hem

“you’re wearing my hoodie again,” his voice is suddenly more breathy than it was moments before

you can’t help but wonder how close he is to snapping and ripping the hoodie off you himself

not because he doesn’t like when you wear it - you both know it’s a lie when he says that - but because he’s desperate to get to what’s underneath

“it’s comfy,” you shrug, “and i didn’t want to wear trousers.”

his eyes trail down your body at the mention of your bare legs and they finally settle on what he’d been trying to hard to avoid

“i can see that, baby,” he grunts, rubbing over his face with his hands, “any reason?”

you shrug, trying to think of an excuse

it only takes seconds for you to realise that the truth would be better

“you were too focussed on work,” you get even closer as you speak, until finally you’re stood in between his open thighs, “i thought if i misbehaved you’d pay attention to me.”

he groans, tipping his head back as his final piece of resolve floats away

“what, so you thought if you come down here, half fucking naked with nothing on but my hoodie and your panties, i’d fuck you?”

well, yes… of course you did

still, you didn’t dignify his obvious question with an answer

“how do you know i have nothing on under here?” you pull at the bottom of the hoodie once more

then suddenly there’s hands on your hips and you don’t have time to think before you’re being pulled onto your boyfriend’s lap

the cushion is gone, now - he must have pushed it away just moments before he grabbed you - and you can feel his hard-on sitting pretty against your clit

if it weren’t for the iron-like grip he still had on your hips, you’d push your luck and grind down on it

“because i can see your fucking nipples, baby,” he grows into your ear, gently nipping on the lobe before pulling away, “poking through my hoodie and teasing me, hm? i bet that was all part of the plan, wasn’t it…”

you wriggle a little in his grasp, wanting to get some friction against your core, but he grips you harder and his fingers dig into your hips

“stop moving,” he glares at you, “i’m not finished talking, and i can’t focus when my little slut is busy rubbing her wet fucking pussy all over my dick.”

by the tone in his voice, you know there’s no room for argument

you sit still for him, trying to ignore the ever-growing ache that sits at the bottom of your stomach

“good girl,” he says, although he doesn’t quite sound like he believes it, “now, you’re going to sit there and take what i fucking give you, hm?”

you nod desperately

he chuckles as he reaches down and slips a finger inside of the soft lace, making you gasp

“but don’t even think about cumming until i say so, sweetheart,” he begins to rub circles against your clit, every stroke growing in speed as he works you towards an orgasm, “baby needs to learn her place, doesn’t she.”

you nod desperately, whimpering away as he works his expert fingers against you

you grow closer by the second as after just a minute or so, you can feel that familiar knot at the bottom of your stomach

you hold your breath, ready to explode and then…

nothing

he pulls his fingers away right at the last second, bringing them up to his mouth to suck the juices off with a smirk

he keeps eye contact with you as his tongue darts out from between his plush lips to lap at his fingers

you whine

“oh hush,” he mumbles in between licks, “you brought this on yourself, honey. now be a good slut and suffer the consequences.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #jongho x reader #jongho oneshot #jongho smut #jongho scenario

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hyypnotix-writes · 1 year

Text

Straight. Straight straight straight.

~ I really don’t know what this is. I couldn’t sleep and so, here we are. I’ve never written anything other than essays for uni before so ..this could go down like a lead balloon! we’ll see, lemme know! :) ~

~ it’s like ..10k words? because I really couldn’t sleep. so, it’s a long one ..if you have nothing else to do! ~

~ I don’t think it needs any content warnings, but please tell me if there should be! there’s some swearing, if that’s off putting to you.. ~

~ it takes a tiny while for A to show up, and she’s never explicitly named..but she is there, it is her ~

~ I’m talking myself out of posting, but this is too long to scrap now, sorry ~

~ good luck! good bye xx ~

________________

The club is a disgusting little place to be. Buried right in the centre of town, with drinks so extortionately expensive, they make even the cost of your London’s monthly rent, look a little reasonable. The music blares inside your head, the strobe lighting messes with your vision, and the smell of horny sweaty bodies is an assault on the nostrils. It’s your least favourite place on earth to be.

It’s somewhere you’d managed to avoid being, for all of your early twenties. You’ve had no reason to go to a club late at night. Not when you’ve had a boyfriend for the past 5 years to go home to. That dirty little desire to get drunk, and hookup with an attractive stranger, took a nice long hibernation.

For you.

Turns out, your ever-loving, ever-caring, fuckwit of an ex-boyfriend, still managed to find the time to go to clubs, and hookup with strangers in between spending nights with you. You really thought he was out working till the early hours of the morning, busy making a living for your future together? What an idiot you were.

So, you’re back in a nightclub, at the behest of some of your single friends, for the first time in over half a decade, borderline drunk out of your mind.

It’s still a comfortable level of tipsiness at the moment, you’d argue, despite stumbling a little on your way back towards the bar. You can easily identify the song that’s being blasted, you’ve been able to order more drinks independently without being refused service. Your inhibitions are long gone, but you’re still able to think clearly, and you’re ready to find someone to go home with.

Your friends are all dotted around the room getting off with men of varying levels of attractiveness. None of them have impressed you so far, you’re not so desperate for company that you’re willing to let your own standards drop tonight. You’re happy to wait for the best-looking man in the room. Looking around the room to scope the talent on offer, however, maybe you do need to lower your standards a little bit.

You approach the bar again, and order a shot of tequila for yourself. A friendly little liquid that’s had previous success with you, for getting you to sleep with just about anything.

“¡Dos, por favor!” Comes a call from behind you, from a woman you do not know. It’s rather ballsy of her, almost rude, but she holds out her card to pay, before you can get too irritated with her request.

“Gracias.” You offer, using your exceptional detective skills to work out the woman’s nationality.

“¿Hablas español?” She checks, as she leans next to you, and you wag a dismissive, drunken finger in front of her face as you shake your head.

“Sorry to disappoint,” you tell her, “only English. GCSE level German.”

She smirks, watching you, and you narrow your eyes at her, tapping the bar as you await your drink.

You’re handed your shot, with a lime wedge and some salt, and you nod in thanks, to the woman who bought it for you. You don’t wait for her to go first, you’re in a bit of a rush here. All the men in the room are getting uglier by the second, you need to act fast, before you see the light too clearly.

You lick your hand and pour on the salt, the woman watching you closely as you do. She doesn’t go through the motions at all for her own drink, she focuses solely on you, gently biting at her bottom lip.

You lick the salt, down the shot, and she holds the lime wedge in between her fingers for you to bite. You don’t question it. Not until you sink your teeth into the lime, your eyes meet over it, and time stand still.

She has very beautiful eyes. A mysterious looking hazel. They flicker over you as you suck the citrus juice, and you can see the crinkles in the corners of them as she smiles at you. It’s weirdly intimate, unnervingly so.

You pull away, wiping the juice from your chin as you point to her own glass for her to follow suit. You find yourself watching her as she does the same routine, but you don’t hold out the fruit for her, the way she did for you. It was a strange custom, one that’s already playing on a loop in your head.

“Can I get you another?” She offers, and you find yourself torn.

You’re not here for a woman, you’ve never been with one. You’ve kissed your girlfriends once or twice when you were younger, mainly as a gross way of attracting boys. It’s not something you thought too deeply about, it wasn’t exactly a lightbulb moment for you. There was never any secret yearning for any of your friends afterwards. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

The woman’s eyes seem to pierce through your soul, as she waits for your answer, like she can see something in you that you can’t. It draws you in, but you hold yourself back.

“I’m straight.” You tell her, and she smirks at you again.

“Congratulations! I didn’t ask,” she points out, “but thanks for letting me know.”

You frown a little as she turns her attention back to the bartender and orders two more shots for the pair of you. She doesn’t seem put off by your sexuality claim at all. It’s almost like she doesn’t believe you, and you’re not too sure you appreciate her cockiness about it.

In fairness, maybe you’re the one being cocky. She doesn’t have a badge on her saying she’s a lesbian, there’s no rainbow floating above her head. She’s not a stereotypical lesbian, not in the way that your little sister is. Maybe she’s just being friendly, and you’re projecting, because you’re drunk and full of yourself.

“Sorry,” you start, leaning into her so she can hear you above the music, and she pushes the shot towards you, “I just thought ..maybe you were coming on to me.”

“That’s very wishful thinking from you.” She says simply, turning her head slightly to face you. She’s exceptionally close, and your eyes instantly trail to her lips. Time’s stood still again.

She has nice lips, very nice lips. They’d probably taste very nice..

You have to pull yourself away.

“Gracias.” You say again, gesturing to the glass in front of you with a frown. You reach for the salt, but before you can lick your hand, she raises it to her own mouth to wet it for you. You really don’t know what to make of her. It’s very gross, it’s very rude ..it’s very sexy.

There’s a confidence in her, that has you questioning things. The warmth of her tongue sends goosebumps right up your arm. Which, she can undoubtedly see, as you don’t have long sleeves and she’s smirking at you again. You don’t appreciate her smug little attitude. Anyone would have a physical reaction to being licked by a stranger, she has no business being arrogant about it.

You must have been stuck in place for too long, as she pours the salt onto your hand on your behalf too.

You don’t like being outdone. If she wants to play it cocky, you can match her for it. You grab the lime wedge and indicate for her to open her mouth. It catches her a little off guard, which you feel a sense of pride in, but she doesn’t back down from your challenge. She welcomes your newfound confidence, with that same little smirk from before.

You place the lime, skin-side back, in between her teeth and you lick the salt from your hand with unwavering eye contact. You down the shot, and you pull her in carefully by her neck.

Your lips brush against hers, ever so slightly, as you bite the lime between her teeth and remove it in your own. It’s a deliberate move from you, maybe you’re feeling messy tonight. You watch as she raises her fingers to her lips, and you wipe the juice again with the back of your hand. You give her a nod with another little ‘gracias’, before heading away from the bar without looking back at her.

You’re stuck on a carousel of men once you return to the centre of the club. They are all admittedly, far better looking than they were before your little trip to get drinks, but there’s still no one drawing your eye. None of them like that cocky little woman at the bar.

She wasn’t really little, she’s quite tall, actually. Had a couple inches on you, that’s for sure, and you’re not short. She was impressively tall, she had nice posture. She didn’t slouch or look uncomfortable. She was just tall, and beautiful, with that endearing little smirk on her pretty little fa— what are you doing?

You need to find yourself a man, and quick.

You’ve trapped yourself between another one and a wall, only a few minutes later, and it feels like a mistake. His hands are on your hips, his mouth is dangerously close to yours, and frankly, no amount of alcohol could make you genuinely attracted to him.

“You’re really sexy.” He slurs, his hand grazing up your body.

No, next.

It doesn’t take long to find another, his arm wrapped round your waist as he shares his drink with you. He’s cute, you’re fairly certain. He does have a moustache, which isn’t your usual cup of tea. It’s like a little caterpillar resting above his top lip, twitching as he talks to you. He drowns it slightly as he has more of his drink, and it makes you cringe as he licks at it.

It’d probably tickle if he kissed you, or leave you with a rash, the hairy little ferret on his lip.

Do you know who didn’t have a moustache? Who you wouldn’t have to work out, how not to throw up in their face, as there’s no risk of their facial hair ever getting stuck in your mouth as you kiss?

Mhmm.

Straight straight straight.

You slide out from his embrace, twirling him around to go after some other poor soul and you return to the bar.

It’s disappointing to realise she’s no longer there, not that she should be waiting around for you. She’s probably found someone less rude to spend her time with, someone more gay.

Look at the state of you, traipsing back to a bar in search of woman you don’t know because she looked at you for a second too long and now you can’t shake her from your head. How embarrassing. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

You make your way through to the ladies’ room to splash some water on your face, and come to your senses. Of course, that’s where she’s hiding. With some new company of her own.

That shouldn’t hurt you. You don’t even know this woman’s name. You know nothing about her at all except that she’s tall, beautiful and has soft lips. Lips that are now on another woman and you’re incensed. You have no right to be angry about it, and yet, here you are.

You bash at the head of the tap, rather aggressively. Sometimes taps in nightclub restrooms don’t work, it probably needed a firm touch. It has nothing to do with you wanting to distract the woman, no no no. Because you’re straight. Straight straight straight.

You don’t need the attention of another woman, that would be ridiculous. That wouldn’t be very straight of you at all.

It doesn’t seem like your loud and theatrical washing of your hands has done anything to disturb the kiss to the side of you.

And good! You wouldn’t want to do that.

So, when you bump into them to reach for some hand towels, that’s just an accident. The fact that the tall, beautiful, soft-lipped, Spanish woman’s eyes flick to you as you dry your hands, is just an unfortunate side effect of your clumsiness.

The fact that it doesn’t stop her from kissing the other woman, however, is outrageous. Her watching you, as she’s busy with someone else? How disgusting.

Your heart shouldn’t be racing at the sight of her, your breath shouldn’t be as shallow at is, and it definitely shouldn’t be catching in your throat as the other woman kisses down her neck, and she’s still only looking at you. This isn’t attractive. This isn’t turning you on. You don’t wish it was you on her neck. There’s that infamous smirk on her face again as she stares at you. She’s unbelievable.

You throw your towels in the bin with an almighty clang as you let the lid drop back down, finally putting the other woman off her stride, and you make a swift exit back into the club.

The music’s too loud again, the smell is suffocating, all of the men are gross by comparison to the woman stuck in your head. It’s been an unsuccessful night and you’re ready to go home alone.

The hand that grabs you, has other ideas.

“You said you were straight!” She reminds you, as she pulls you outside with her.

“I am!” You tell her, still annoyed with her little antics.

“You followed me to the toilet?”

“I didn’t know you were in there!” You point out, even more annoyed with her cocky little attitude.

“You’re angry.” She tells you, smirking. “Didn’t like me kissing someone else?”

“I don’t care who you kiss!”

“No?”

“No!”

There’s a palpable tension between you both. It doesn’t make sense. You don’t know this woman. She doesn’t know you. It doesn’t matter that she kissed someone else. You were trying to kiss someone else only a minute before.

Why you’re so enraged by a woman who’s bought you two shots, getting with another woman after you walked away from her, is a question for future you. You’re not about to have an existential crisis in front of her. Questioning your identity in your mid-twenties, is absurd. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

There’s a curiousness, to her decisions, actually. To follow you, when she already had company. To drag you outside, to where no one else is. She’s very confident about you being interested, but she’s not exactly being apathetic herself.

“Why did you leave her?” You ask.

“What?”

“You followed me,” you point out, furrowing your brow, “had a pretty girl draping herself all over you, and you left her to follow me. Why?”

You’ve clearly touched a nerve; her smirk has vanished. You can see her tongue pushing against the inside of her mouth. She’s annoyed with you.

She slowly runs her tongue under her teeth, before wetting her bottom lip with it while rolling her eyes. She doesn’t miss how your breath hitches watching her. Her smirk is back, and she moves closer to you.

“Maybe I’ll go back to her.” She threatens, and your jaw clenches slightly.

“Maybe you should!” You tell her, taking steps backwards as she approaches.

“Do you want me to?”

You collide into the wall behind you, and she places her hands on it by your head.

“No.” You confess, breathlessly.

“You said you were straight.” She repeats, her face mere inches from yours as she leans into you.

You swallow down, your pulse picking up speed.

“I am.” You insist, your eyes locking onto her mouth. “I..”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No.”

“What do you want me to do?” She questions knowingly, that all too familiar smirk, taking over her face. She tilts her head, impossibly close to yours. You can smell the lime that lingers on her lips, feel her breath that softly blows against you, but she still doesn’t let you have what you want.

“Are you going to make me beg for it?” You groan, leaning backwards into the wall as far as you can.

“Maybe.” She tells you.

You hate her holding all the cards like this. She has you like putty in her hands. She’s all cocky and in control. Who does she think she is?

You’re better than this. You’re not shy around people you fancy. You may have been caught in a pointless relationship for far too long, but you’re a catch, people are into you. This woman right here, is into you. You don’t need to be nervous with her, it doesn’t mean anything. You’re straight. Straight straight straight. It could be the worst kiss of your life, and why should you care?

You slink your arm up behind her neck, closing the distance between you even further, and her eyelids flutter shut.

“I’m not going to.” You inform her, emboldened by her reaction to you. You duck out from under her arms, blowing her a kiss as you walk back inside. To find a man to take you home. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

It doesn’t take you long at all to find another man to wear around you. One with glasses on. No, he’s not attractive. No, you don’t want to go home with him. But he’s here, he’s a man, and he isn’t driving you quite as crazy as the woman you keep running into. It’s simple, it’s easy, it’s hassle free. It’s exactly what you came for, you’re ready to go.

________________

Waking up in unfamiliar sheets, is something you haven’t done in a while. You’re quietly proud of yourself. The sheets smell nice, your hangover headache isn’t half as bad as you thought it would be, and there’s a pleasurable little ache between your legs that tells you that, whatever happened last night, you more than enjoyed yourself.

You wriggle a little under the covers and take a peek to confirm that you are indeed, completely naked. Your eyes are allowed to trail the body next to you. You’ve had sex with it, you’re more than entitled.

You really don’t remember which man it was you left with. There was the one with the glasses, the tall one with the mullet, the man with the moustache, the unfortunate gentleman with the incorrectly placed toupee.

He’s probably the one you’d most be upset about seeing next to you. Not that he didn’t seem friendly enough, but he really wasn’t the attractive stranger you were hunting for.

You risk another quick peek under the covers and your eyes all but bug out of your head. No no nonononono. You pull the covers back down and shut your eyes, trying to remember what the hell went wrong. You had countless semi-attractive men all over you. How the hell?

You peek again. Maybe you’re seeing things. Your hungover little brain playing tricks on you.

No.

That’s definitely not a man’s body. It’s far too beautiful. It’s toned, smooth, sculpted by the gods themselves. You want to put your tongue on it. You probably already have had your tongue on it. Who knows what you’ve done to it, what it’s done to you. How the hell did you go home with a woman?

“Are you enjoying the view?” The voice outside of the covers asks, and you roll yourself over under the sheets away from her.

You’d recognise that accent anywhere. That cocky little tone to her voice. That insufferable Spanish woman from the bar. That tall, beautiful, soft-lipped, Spanish walking-headache, took you home, and had her way with you? You? When you’re straight? Straight straight straight.

The ache in between your legs, the dull satisfaction running through your body, and you have her to thank for it?

It’s a dream. It’s a nightmare. It’s a horrible, twisted little trick, that, if you keep your eyes closed to, maybe it will all disappear around you and you’ll wake up again next to a man. A gross, sweaty little man, with too much hair on his face and not enough on the top of his head.

There’s a snicker from outside of the covers and you let out a huff, as she taps at your body.

“What?” You grumble, making no effort to free yourself from the sheets you’ve cocooned yourself in.

You can feel her shimmy herself closer to you and you hold your hand behind you to stop her.

“No!” You tell her, quite firmly, as her torso connects with your fingertips. Her toned torso. Her taut, muscly torso that your fingers have somehow now spread out over. You can feel her breathing against your palm. She hasn’t edged any closer to you after your outburst, and you regret telling her off so soon.

You’d quite like her pressed up against you, if that’s what she wants to do. Maybe you were too hasty, too rude. You can still feel the shortness of her breath against your hand. You’re being inappropriate, touching her like this. You slowly remove your hand from her, still hovering it pretty close.

You reach back for her arm, trailing your fingers down it until you meet with her hand, and you pull it around you. You’re not entirely sure what’s possessing you, you just want to feel her on your skin. She doesn’t need much encouragement to nestle into you, and it’s definitely not a man’s body.

You tangle your fingers with hers over your stomach, leaning into her. She has nice hands. Hands that are quite a bit bigger than yours, it’s no wonder you have an ache.

She removes the covers from over your head, instantly placing her lips to your neck. It’s very easy to forget yourself with her mouth on you, it’s no real surprise she managed to trick you into coming back to hers at all. She frees her fingers from yours, moving her hand down your body, and you put up no resistance to her. You encourage it, if anything, moving yourself to make it easier.

It’s nothing like having a man between your legs. There’s no needless grunting above you, no mindless grabbing, or endless showboating. You don’t need to make excessive noises to boost her ego. She just really knows what she’s doing with her fingers. She has every right to be cocky with herself.

Maybe this is just what it is to be with a woman. Maybe they just know, it’s the same parts, after all. Maybe it’s an inherent knowledge that all women possess, but only a select few ever get to experience. Lucky them.

Lucky you.

You are still being quite loud with her inside of you. It’s not for her benefit, it just really feels very good. You grip at her head behind you, running your fingers down the back of her neck, and you bite at your other hand to mute your sound effects, to stop giving her quite so much satisfaction with herself. You can see that smug little smirk on her face, it’s impossible to know if it’s still annoying or just incredibly sexy. It’s a very thin line with this woman.

It’s hard to keep still with her going to work on you the way she is. You find yourself rolling back over into her and she welcomes you, easily capturing your lips with hers. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

They are very nice lips, they do taste nice, and it’s not the first time you’ve kissed them.

Memories of the night come flooding back in.

________________

“I can take you back to mine?” The man wearing glasses offers.

“Perfect!” You reply, all too eager to get out of this frustrating little situation you’ve found yourself in. He places his cup on the nearest table, and winks at you, before leading you to the door.

Again, the hand that grabs you, has other ideas.

“You’re not leaving with him!” She tells you in no uncertain terms, as she holds you firmly in place.

“You can’t tell me what to do! Who the hell do you think you are?” She doesn’t give in, and as you turn to find the man, he’s already wandered off without you. “Are you joking? What’s your problem?”

You’re absolutely furious with the woman, she has no right to ruin your plans like this. You shake her off of you and head back to the bar, but she shadows you closely.

“You can fuck right off, following me about!”

“You’re really very angry.” She tells you, rather amused at your attitude. “Why, because I didn’t let you leave with some gross man?”

“He was cute!”

“He was about 50!”

That can’t be right.

He had glasses on, sure, but so do lots of people in their twenties. He had ..greying hair. Slightly less common, perhaps, but he had been cute.

Hadn’t he?

“Fuck!”

You rub your fingers over your forehead, trying to erase him from your mind, as the woman continues smirking at you.

“You can wipe that smug look off your face, right now!” You warn her and she chuckles to herself.

“Do you want another drink?”

“..Please.”

You down another round of shots together, being inappropriate with the salt and limes again. There’s an incredible amount of confidence in you. Whether it’s your new disdain for this woman, the fact that you’re unlikely to be going home with someone you’ll be happy waking up next to, or just the alcohol flooding your system, who can tell, but it’s a confidence that you’re more than willing to embrace.

You order another round of drinks and lick her collarbone ready to pour the salt on to. Her eyebrow quirks at you, but she doesn’t stop you doing it. She readies the lime in her mouth, as you down the tequila, and she pierces it with her teeth for you, dripping the juice into your mouth from hers up above.

It’s a very weird mating call from her, and it’s 100% effective. You grab her hand and lead her back to the hallway between the toilets. You bury your head in her neck as the moustache walks past you both, and you open the door to the smoking area to see if anyone’s about. No one is, so you pull her outside with you.

“Why are we back here?” She asks, that smug smile still tattooed on her lips.

“I feel more sober in fresh air.”

“Mm? You’re very drunk.”

“You’re very drunk!”

“Maybe, but at least I’m not on a ridiculous hunt for a man!”

“It’s not ridiculous, it’s meticulous!” You tell her, giggling slightly at your accidental rhyme. “I’m looking for a very specific man, preferably a good looking one, in his twenties.”

“Really? You didn’t seem too worried, that a man in his twenties was actually a man in his fifties!” She points out.

“Mm. I don’t know that I’m particularly worried about a man in his twenties ..being a woman in her twenties either.” You tell her with a rather casual shrug as you head to one of the tables. You sit yourself up on it, looking back at the woman who gives you a knowing little smile.

“You’re not very straight, are you?” She asks sarcastically.

“I really am.” You sigh, rolling your eyes. “I’ve never been with a woman, never wanted to be. I’ve only just got out of a long-term relationship with a man. I’ve only ever wanted to be with men.”

“Mm?” She mumbles, moving over to you slowly. She carefully pushes your knees apart and stands in between them, looking down at you. “I’m not a man.” She reminds you, and you trap your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Maybe I don’t want you.”

“Mm?” She places a curved finger under your chin, tilting your head and bringing your mouths very close together. “Tell me you don’t.”

There’s a feeling in your stomach at her challenge, a feeling lower than your stomach at her challenge. You do want her, and you’re not a good enough liar to pretend that you don’t.

“I can’t..” You admit, and she smiles again, before removing herself from you. You let out a frustrated little sigh as she moves backwards, and you swing your legs back together. “You want me too!” You tell her and she tilts her head to the side.

“Who told you that?”

“Tell me you don’t.”

“..I can’t.” She admits, and maybe her cocky little smirk has found its way onto your face.

You jump down from the tabletop and lean back against it, nibbling at the inside of your mouth. She casually walks back over to you, resting her hand on your hip.

It’s far less offensive than gentleman number 6’s grazing of your body. You don’t feel the need to push her away at all. She leans back into you, tucking your hair behind your ear. It sends a little tingle right down the side of your neck, and she smirks again at your reaction. You can’t not roll your eyes at her incessant need to be arrogant. She rubs her thumb across your cheek and over your mouth, pulling down on your lower lip gently.

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes ..what?” She asks, and she’s ruined the moment. You shake your head at her chuckling lightly.

“If you don’t want to kiss me, it’s fine, we don’t have to. I’m not going to beg you for it.” You tilt your head, brushing her nose with yours. “Do you want to kiss me?” She nods silently, and you wink at her. “Looks like we’re both missing out then!”

You slip out from between her and the table and make your way over to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To find a man to take me home! I’m straight!”

You can hear her cocky little laugh as you head back into the club, and it sends a little thrill right through your body.

This bizarre game of cat and mouse continues between you both for a little while longer. You keep buying each other shots, drinking them in more obscene ways every time. You back each other into walls, threatening to kiss each other, before one of you walks away, and the whole process repeats itself.

It’s getting harder to compose yourself after each round of shots. You really do just want her to kiss you, you’ve had enough of fighting it, but you also don’t want her to have the satisfaction of you caving in. It’s a ruthless little battle that you’ve found yourself in. She’s incredibly competitive.

You have to commit. Genuinely find yourself a man. It shouldn’t be hard. There’s lots of them about, and you’re more drunk now than you’ve been all night. You’re embarrassingly easy prey.

You survey your surroundings, hoping for one decent looking man to catch your eye. It’s a truly talentless night. You find yourself grimacing slightly realising that all of your friends have already left the place. Some of them will definitely regret their choices in the morning.

As will you, if you don’t manage to get at least one kiss from this godforsaken woman.

“Looking for me?” She asks as she sidles on next to you, leaning against the wall.

“I’m looking for a man! I’ve already told you this.”

“Well ..there’s one there.” She tells you, gesturing to a random fellow in the corner. “There’s another there.” She points out. “There. There. The—”

“I get it, thanks. You have terrible taste in men.”

“I don’t have any taste in men.” She reminds you. “I have pretty impeccable taste in women.”

“Mm? Well, which one takes your fancy?” You ask. “There’s one over there. There ..there. Th—”

She grabs your pointed finger and turns it back towards you. It’s not a new answer, so god knows why you’re blushing at it.

“Then kiss me.” You tell her, little louder than a whisper. “Just kiss me, for fuc—”

She’s clearly had enough too. Maybe it was the tiredness in your voice, the obvious look of defeat in your eyes. Maybe she just doesn’t like you swearing. You’re not going to question it. Her lips are finally on yours, and she was definitely worth the wait. It ignites a spark in you, it sends your tipsy little mind fully into orbit, and she’s the only other person in the room with you.

There’s no sense of desperation in the kiss. It’s not messy, or chaotic. It’s deliberate from her, considered. There’s an air of caution perhaps, a worry that you’ll pull away from her. You’re straight, after all. Maybe she’s nervous that your certainty in wanting a kiss will waver now that she’s finally given you what you want. Maybe you’ve realised that you don’t actually want it.

It’s a new experience for you, surprisingly different from kissing a man, but it’s not one you want to pull away from. It’s not one you want to rush. It’s not one you really want to end at all. You can sense her apprehension, and it’s the first time that she’s had no snark. It’s not a cocky little kiss. She’s not doing it to get it over and done with. It’s not going to end with her smirking at you, like she’s done you a favour. It isn’t meaningless.

It’s tentative, and frankly, you’ve had enough of her carefulness. If she needs a sign that you’re not going anywhere, that you want her to keep kissing you, you’ll find a way to do that. Your tongue parts her lips, and the gasp you elicit is all the confirmation you need of her nerves. It’s endearing to have her be quite so vulnerable with you.

You deepening the kiss is clearly all the confirmation she needs that everything’s fair game, because she wastes no time in escalating the intensity. She clings to you, wrapping her arm around your waist, her hand gripping at your hip, the other cradling your jaw. She backs you up against the wall and muffles the moan that escapes you with your joined lips.

Her tongue dances with yours, and you let her take over all your senses. It’s just a kiss, and yet it’s like a journey to a whole new world. It’s entirely all-consuming, the rest of existence has melted to nothingness around you. You don’t care where you are, you don’t care who’s watching. Or do you?

Maybe there is a mild sense of urgency to it, because kissing is simply not enough. You need to have her closer, impossibly close. You need her, entirely, and regardless of how much you’re craving the feeling of her, you do still care about where that happens.

“Are you local?” You ask, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. She only gives a silent nod in reply. “I’m like ..20 minutes by taxi?”

“My hotel’s closer than that.”

“So ..back to yours?”

“Are you sure?” She asks, searching your eyes for any sense of reluctance. She’s unlikely to find any, but you nod, assertively, just to reaffirm. “I’m not taking you back to mine to ..play cards?” She double-checks with you and you chuckle, resting your forehead to hers.

“No, I’m sort of counting on that.” You tell her. “Unless you don’t wa—”

She cuts you off with a kiss again. There was no swearing this time, no tiredness or look of defeat. Maybe she just likes kissing you.

“Are you absolutely sure?” She asks again, because she’s polite, and underneath all her cocky annoyingness, she really is very sweet.

“Oh my god.” You sigh. You do still find yourself rolling your eyes, you don’t know how much more obvious you need to be with her. “..please.”

The rush back to her hotel room is fun, you feel like a teenager all over again. Waltzing through the streets of London, your hand interlaced with an attractive stranger’s, the promise of sex hanging in the air.

It doesn’t matter that it’s a woman you’re linked up with. That doesn’t mean anything. It’s a one-time little indulgence. An experiment, for research purposes. To find out what it is your sister’s been going so crazy over, ever since she was a teenager.

It doesn’t mean anything when she keeps kissing you against the walls of closed buildings. It doesn’t mean anything when you pull her back into you at the entrance of her hotel. Yes, it’s nice. It’s enjoyable. It steals the air right from your lungs every single time, but that doesn’t mean anything. How could it, when you’re straight? Straight straight straight.

You do keep your hands off each other when you get to the lift of the hotel, there’s an older woman in there with you, and you’re not about to put on a show for her. Not for free.

Maybe your eyes keep meeting too much, or the smirking is too obvious. Maybe you do keep touching once or twice, because something’s definitely giving you both away.

“Lesbians?” The older woman asks, with a very clear disdain.

“Hm? For tonight.” You reply with a nod, unperturbed by her demeanour. Your Spanish host shakes her head at you, smiling as she looks up at the ceiling.

You’ve dealt with a few homophobes in your time. Your sister isn’t exactly subtle with her identity. It welcomes dirty looks, offensive words, and you’ve never been one to shy away from protecting her. You’ve never had to defend yourself against prejudice, but she’s not exactly an intimidating woman. You could easily take her if she tries to raise her hand.

“It’s disgusting.” She mutters under her breath, and her unsupportive attitude is sort of spurring you on.

“Do you think?” You ask. “What’s so disgusting about it?”

“Two women. It’s a waste.”

“Oof. I am not about to let her go to waste, don’t you worry about that at all, madam.” You reassure her, offering a friendly smile that earns you a very angry look in reply.

You don’t miss the smirk that graces the taller woman’s face next to you in the mirror, and that’s all the encouragement you need.

“It’s not natural!” The older woman tells you, and you nod your head slowly back at her. “It’s disgusting!”

“You’re very annoyed about it.” You point out. “It’s a bit unnecessary, no?”

“I think you’re both disgusting!” She hisses at you again.

“Oh dear.” You lean back against the bar of the elevator, as the older woman stares you down. “That’s an incredible argument you’ve put forward. I think I’ve seen the light!”

She not at all impressed by your relaxed sarcasm, you’re clearly getting on her nerves. Your lack of remorse, the fact you’re not begging for her forgiveness.

“I think it—”

“You think it’s disgusting, madam. We get it.” You interrupt, a little bit tired of her insistence. “Don’t spend your evening with another woman, then. We’re not inviting you to join us, so you can calm down.” You tell her, moving back towards the Spanish woman behind you.

She wraps her arm around your waist instantly and you lean into her touch. It’s comforting, subtle. It’s a very casual display of support without silencing you, without fighting over you.

She’s not dramatically shouting at the other woman; she’s not emasculated by you doing all the talking. She’s not making empty threats or getting up in the other woman’s face.

She’s not reacting at all in the way you’ve come to expect. The way that he probably would, to someone questioning him. Not that your ex ever defended your sister’s honour with you, but he certainly enjoyed getting into a scrap when he felt threatened.

It’s very attractive from her, actually, to just silently remind you that she’s there if you need her. That she’s with you, she does have your back, and you’d kiss her right there on the mouth if the woman opposite wasn’t glaring at you quite so intently.

Maybe you should kiss her regardless. There’s only a few more floors left till the old bat gets off. What’s she going to do, slap you both for some pda? There’s a security camera in here, she wouldn’t be so stupid.

Perhaps you can control yourself for a couple more floors, you don’t need to provoke the bastard woman. So what if she’s an unfavourable little witch, she’s not ruining your evening, you’re not going to let her.

Well, if that’s your logic, why should you let her stop you from kissing the woman when you want to? What courtesy do you owe to her? If she’s that upset about it, she’ll have to either avert her eyes like a petulant little child, or stop off at the floor below and hope she doesn’t choke on her bigotry when walking the rest of the way up. You don’t care.

Thankfully, neither does the Spanish beauty who matches your energy and kisses you back with the same fervour you’re showing her.

You’re instantly entirely unbothered by the third wheel once there’s an extra tongue back in your mouth, her Spanish hands on your face. You don’t care at all how uncomfortable you’re making the old bint. Frankly, you hope her eyes are burning at the sight of you both.

She doesn’t let you enjoy your moment for too long. Of course she doesn’t, the dark-sided little mare. She barges past you both as the doors open and she spits at the floor in front of you. The absolute nerve. She expectorates in the lift inside of a nice hotel, and you’re the disgusting ones? Absolutely not. You’re seeing red. You really could take her, you’ve been to a gym more than once or twice in your life, you’re not weak.

“You revolting little bi—”

The hand that grabs you, has other ideas.

“Let her go!” She tells you, laughing as she spins you back round to face her. “Por favor, she’s not worth it!”

“She spat at us! That dirty little cu—”

She kisses you again. Maybe she really does hate your swearing. Her lips are distracting, though, and you don’t mind learning that that’s one surefire way to get them back on yours.

“She really was a hateful bitch.” You murmur between kisses, and the Spaniard giggles against you.

“You’re a very angry straight girl.” She tells you, pushing your hair back off your face. “You don’t like homophobes?”

“Do you?” You ask, frowning at the woman in front of you.

“No,” she admits with a chuckle, “I’d have probably just let her get on with it quietly, though. Didn’t feel the need to anger her more!”

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you.”

“You didn’t, I’d have backed you if she kept going.”

There’s that sexy little smirk again. It shouldn’t do things to you the way it does. It shouldn’t set your whole body on fire. A small curve to her lips, and you want to rip her clothes off? You’re very tragic.

You drag your eyes away from her and scan the floor number you’re on.

“Bloody hell!” You sigh. “Did you really have to book a room on the highest bloody floor? I get it, you’re rich ..but fuck me!”

You drum out your frustrations on the handrail of the lift, it’s slow ascent through the floors seemingly never-ending.

“Are you sobering up?” She asks, and you nod at her, still tapping your hands. “Are you changing your mind?”

You stop your little percussive performance and turn back to face her.

“You’re very convinced that I’m going to back out?”

“I just want you to know that you can.”

It’s genuine from her. It’s not a perverse attempt at guilt tripping, she’s not trying some weird technique of reverse psychology. She genuinely wants you to know that it’s okay if you’re not ready. If your own act of confidence, is exactly that, just an act.

You take her hand and pull her back towards you. She rests her hands on the rail behind you and you lean in very close.

“Do you want me to?” You ask, and she shakes her head. You tilt her face to meet her eyes and you kiss the corner of her mouth. “Well, okay then, and neither do I.” You tell her quietly, your lips feathering hers. “So know, that until I revoke it, you have my consent ..to do whatever.”

“Careful,” she warns, “I might take you up on that.”

It earns you a deep kiss, and another cheeky smirk. There’s exhilaration shooting through your body and this goddamn endless journey through the sky is entirely unbearable.

“It’s very cute, that your hotel is so close to the bar, but it really would’ve been quicker to just go back to mine!” You point out, patting at her hands behind you.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t me that booked it.”

That’s very cryptic. What on earth is that supposed to mean?

“Please don’t tell me your girlfriend’s waiting for you in there.” You tell her, narrowing your eyes as you await an explanation.

“No, it’s a ..business trip.”

That’s still very cryptic.

“A business trip? What do you do for a living?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“No?” You chuckle, arching an eyebrow. “Are you a spy?”

She laughs back at you, shaking her head. “No,” she assures you, “but it’s too personal.”

“Too personal? We’re not allowed to know each other’s careers?”

She shakes her head, and you find yourself smiling slightly with narrowed eyes. It’s very intriguing. If she wants you to be less interested in her, that wasn’t the way to play it.

“So, I’m guessing, I’m also not allowed to even know your name?” You check.

“A.”

“A?” You chuckle, nodding your head. “That’s a very beautiful name!” You tell her, your hand resting on her chest as you push her away from you. “There’s no way your parents were that lazy!”

“It’s my initial.” She tells you, rolling her eyes with that classic little smirk, as she pulls you back with her across to the other side of the elevator. “My first name starts with A.”

“And that’s all you’re giving me?” You ask, resting your hands on the railing behind her as she nods her head. “You really don’t want me to find you after tonight?” You question her, with your tongue tracing the bottom of your teeth. “Haven’t even been with me yet, and you already know you won’t want a repeat?”

She dips her head to kiss you again, and your hands grip at the bar behind her. You pull yourself in towards her, desperate to be closer, and she cradles your head in her hand.

“It’s not that,” she tells you gently, “but I go home tomorrow.”

Shit. That shouldn’t be so surprising to you. She has a thick Spanish accent, she’s staying in a luxury hotel, paid for by a company on her behalf. Of course she isn’t staying in London for very long. What happened to your exceptional detective skills? How did you not work that one out?

“Fuck.” Is all that falls out of your mouth as you pull yourself back from the woman.

“I’m sorry..” she offers, but you shake your head with a heavy sigh.

“No, I should have realised.” You tell her, nibbling at the inside of your mouth.

It’s a bummer, certainly. There’s something between you both. Whether it’s just a physical attraction, a sexual desire, who knows? But it’s there. You can feel it, and you’re positive that she can too. It doesn’t have to be anything deeper than that. That would mean you really did need to do some introspective work on yourself moving forward.

She’s just a woman. The one woman. The world’s most beautiful woman, who’s turned your world upside down, in a matter of hours. Who bought you a drink, that left you confused. That kissed another woman, and left you annoyed. Who refused to let you leave with a random ancient bastard and has saved you from spending a fundamentally flawed night with a limp-dicked disappointment.

And tomorrow she’ll be gone. You only have tonight with her.

You can walk, she’s already told you that. You can turn around now, and not let yourself fall any deeper. Save yourself the pain of a perfect night that you’ll never be able to repeat. Save yourself from spending the rest of your life chasing an experience you can never recreate with someone else.

It’d be hard enough to find her in London. It’ll be impossible to track her down in Spain.

Leave her now, with just the mind-numbing kisses to haunt you for all eternity. Don’t give your soul to a woman you’ll never see again. Don’t let her steal your heart away with her. Don’t ruin a life of enjoying mediocre sex for yourself.

The elevator rings out, signalling your arrival at her floor and you stay rooted to the spot as she slowly makes her exit. She looks back at you, a sad smile replacing her arrogant one.

“I understand.” She tells you, as she disappears down the hall.

You don’t understand. You don’t understand at all why your body feels so drawn to this woman. Why your mind, your heart, your soul are so desperate for you to chase after her. It can only spell trouble for you. One kiss with her sent your head spinning. Anything more than that will undoubtedly result in irreparable damage. How do you recover from that? How do you move on? How do you let yourself make any other meaningful connections with someone after feeling so intoxicated by a woman you know absolutely nothing about?

It isn’t possible for you to feel this way. It doesn’t make any sense. Even if you weren’t straight. Straight straight straight. How the hell can you fall for someone, when you don’t even have the luxury of knowing her first name? You don’t know what she does, you don’t know who she is. She could be an evil mastermind. A dark-sided villain who does terrible things, all the way over in Spain.

Don’t follow her. It’s foolish. It’ll be the worst mistake of your life. A night you can’t take back. An act you can’t undo.

The doors start to close in front of you, and you wedge your foot in between to stop them. You’re an idiot. A damn blasted fool.

But how could you not go after her? How can you not chase after the rush she sends through you? It’s dangerous, it’s messy, but you want her. Even though it’s just for a night. You can’t walk away from a feeling this strong. A yearning so powerful every cell in your body is screaming out for it.

She’s annoying. Frustrating. Beautiful. Enticing. There’s something, and you can’t very well just turn around and walk the other way.

You follow her into the hallway of her floor, and she turns back to face you.

“I thoug—”

“I didn’t revoke.” You tell her, shaking your head as you walk towards her. “I didn’t come up all this way to play cards, and I certainly didn’t come up all this way to go straight back bloody down again!”

She chuckles at you, shaking her head.

“And tomorrow?”

“We’ll deal with that then.” You tell her. “If it’s only meant to be one incredible night, then so be it.”

“You think it’ll be incredible?” She asks, the smirk tugging at her lips.

“With you? ..yes.”

The smirk morphs into a full smile. One that reaches her eyes. One that transforms her whole beautiful face into the most breathtaking radiance as she beams back down at you.

“And what if it’s awful?” She chuckles.

“Then I’ll be packing your bags for you to go in the morning.”

She takes a step to close the distance between you and pulls you in for a slow deep kiss.

“Are you absolutely su—”

“For fuck’s sake!” You whisper, crashing your head to her shoulder to chuckle against her neck. “Yes! I’m sure! I’m very bloody certain, I want you to take me to your room. Yes!”

“Yes ..what?”

She’s incredibly frustrating. Just wilfully annoying. Childish, pathetic, addictive, perfect. She’s everything. She’s absolutely everything.

“Please.”

________________

You don’t hate this woman. She didn’t trick you into bed at all. There’s affection between you, a fondness. It wasn’t a drunken night of angry passion. It was intimate, careful, experimental. Perfect.

You have a desperate need for this woman you’re wrapped up in. A want to have her close, to keep her with you forever. An impossible request. An unattainable, hopeless little prayer.

“You’re leaving today.” You remind her, panting slightly as she calms you from your high.

“I did tell you that.” She whispers, her fingers trailing your stomach.

“I know, I just ..it just hit me.”

You look back to her, and there’s a sadness in her eyes that you can only imagine you’re reflecting back at her with yours. You stroke your thumb over her cheek and lean in for a kiss. It’s soft, impossibly gentle. It’s the most painful way to say goodbye.

“I should go,” you tell her, “my sister will be wondering where I am. Wondering what ..man I hooked up with.” You chuckle a little pulling yourself out of her embrace.

“What will you tell her?”

“He was beautiful.” You admit. “Foreign.. Italian, I think.”

She laughs to the side of you, leaning back over towards you as she shakes her head. She places a kiss on your shoulder, lighting a tiny fire with her mouth.

“I don’t want you to go.” She tells you, placing more kisses to your shoulder, your collarbone, your lips.

You don’t want to go either, not when she’s igniting an inferno inside of your body like this. It’s cruel, it’s sadistic. It’s the perfect way to say goodbye.

“What time’s your flight?” You ask, with a mild desperation to your voice.

“Not till this evening.”

“Do you have to be anywhere else today?”

“Not till this afternoon.”

“So, we still have the rest of the morning?”

“Mhmm.”

“It probably wouldn’t be the worst thing ..if I was late back home.”

“No?”

“Unless you’re kicking me out?”

She has no intention of doing that, as well you know. She straddles herself on top of you, and your heart starts racing again. Her body on full display in front of you. The most beautiful body. She’s in incredible shape. It’d be more intimidating to you, if she hadn’t repeatedly told you how beautiful she thinks you are last night. You’re not in terrible shape yourself, but you definitely felt the need to tense more to give yourself some sort of definition. Her abs are just naturally on full display without any effort from her at all.

“You’re very beautiful.” You tell her, taking her in. “You have very beautiful ..eyes.”

“My eyes are up here.” She tells you, pointedly.

“Mhmm. Very beautiful.” You repeat, ignoring her little biology lesson as you trace your fingers over her curves.

She traps her tongue between her teeth as she smiles down at you, before leaning back in for a bruising kiss.

“You might be my favourite straight girl.” She tells you, and you roll your eyes.

“Might be?” You ask, feigning offence as you push her back up.

“You’re in the top three.” She tells you, smirking.

“Woww.” You draw out sarcastically. “That’s very charitable of you, thanks.”

She chuckles to herself, collapsing back down to run her lips across your chest. She starts trailing lower, and you can tell where she’s heading. She’s already seen to you once this morning, she’s done more than enough. You’d like to repay the favour. Frankly, you could do with a rest.

You grip at her thighs to flip her over, and the smile on her face as you do, has you kicking yourself for not doing it sooner.

“Are you okay?” She asks as your eyes roam over her face.

“Mhmm.” You nod. “I remember ..really enjoying something last night.” You admit, a little cautiously.

“Yeah? I remember you enjoying it too.”

“Did ..did you enjoy it?”

“Mhmm.” She murmurs, and you can feel her body shifting beneath you. “You’re very good with your tongue.”

“Really?” You ask, a little too enthusiastically, as a tiny thrill courses right through you. You have to fight every instinct not to wet your own lips with it as she nods, that small smirk coming back into view. “Did it feel good?”

“Yes.”

“You tasted good.” You breathe, clenching your jaw slightly.

“Are you still claiming to be straight?” She chuckles, her eyebrow arching.

“Mm.” You laugh, collapsing back into her for a kiss. “It’s hanging by a thread.” You admit, smiling into her as her lips move against yours. “Do you want me to?” You ask, a knowing look on your face.

“Yes.” She admits, her back arching as she readjusts herself for you.

“Yes ..what?”

She shakes her head, with a disbelieving smile. Maybe you’re in love with this stranger. Maybe she feels it too.

“..Please.” She whispers, and you don’t need asking twice.

________________

The walk back to the elevator, has no reason being as painful as it is. Even after a morning together between the sheets, a shared shower before a very late breakfast. You’ve still only known this woman a little over 12 hours. You’ve learnt absolutely nothing about her personal life, who she is, why she’s here, whether she’ll ever be back. She knows nothing about you. It isn’t right for there to be a connection between you, when you have no fundamental knowledge of each other. You could have literally nothing in common, and your heart’s tearing itself in two at the thought of her leaving for another country.

Neither of you want to say goodbye to each other. That much is obvious as you tangle your fingers with hers and stare at the button for the lift. Both elevators are on the bottom floor, you’ll still have a few minutes together even if you request it now. You can’t draw an eternity out of a few minutes, but you can savour them. It’s like setting a little timer for you as you press the button. The lift starts its ascension up the floors and the seconds you still have together start to decrease.

“This is insane.” You admit to her, your eyes beginning to sting. “I shouldn’t hate leaving you this much, I don’t even know who you are!”

“I know.” She tells you, with the same shaky breath as you.

She pulls you into her embrace and you cling to the fabric of her sweatshirt for dear life. She’s given you one of her sweatshirts, to stop you looking too dishevelled as you do the walk of shame back home. It’s a bit oversized on you, and she told you you looked adorable when you had to roll the sleeves up a couple times to free your hands.

You sort of wish she’d stop being so sweet to you. Go back to being the annoying woman that had her lips on someone else. Go back to being the weirdly confusing woman with the salt and the limes. Do anything to make saying goodbye to each other just a tiny bit more bearable.

“Imagine if you weren’t straight,” she whispers to the side of your head, “imagine the breakdown you’d be having then!”

She’s an idiot, and it does manage to make you laugh, as warm tears escape your eyes, and you bury your head further into her neck.

She’s not straight, you remember. So, maybe it’s a subtle confession of her own struggle she’s having with you parting ways. She is holding you impossibly tight, like you’ll disappear from right in front of her in a puff of smoke, if she loosens her grip even slightly.

The elevator seems to be soaring through the levels without any people in it. It’s a far more rapid process than it was when it was holding the pair of you hostage last night. That isn’t fair. Who designed that?

“It’s going to be the longest journey of my life going back down without you.” You mumble against her.

“Hopefully you don’t bump into your best friend on the way!”

“For fuck’s sake!” You laugh, pulling yourself from her and wiping at your eyes with your sleeve. “That evil cow!” You let out a sigh and shake your head. “She’ll be fine with me today, to be fair. I’m straight again now!”

“Oh, of course! You can agree with each other about it being disgusting, then!”

“Mm. I mean ..we did do some pretty disgusting things to each other.” You remind her smugly.

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate you giving her all the details.” She winks, and you grin as you pull her back into a hug.

“I really enjoyed it.” You confess to her, quietly. “I really enjoyed being with you.”

“Me too.”

The ding of the elevator signals that your time is up. The moment you’ve been dreading, has finally arrived. You head straight in. You don’t know if it’s better to get a clean break, or prolong the inevitable for as long as possible. The doors start closing, and her foot appears in the gap to keep you for a moment longer.

She fists her hands in her sweatshirt you’re wearing and kisses you across the threshold. It’s one that catches you off guard, but you match the passion in it as soon as you realise what’s happening. The doors try closing on you a few times, but you keep blocking them with a hand. You’re not letting them steal your moment.

She breaks the kiss but keeps her grip on you. You can see the tears in her eyes, feel the ones in yours. It’s ridiculous. You catch one with your thumb as it starts to roll down her cheek and you place a kiss to where you broke its fall.

“If you’re ever back in London..” you tell her, a small smirk on your face, “just ask around for my initial. I’m sure someone will lead you back to me!”

“I’ll have to try.” She tells you earnestly, letting go of your sweatshirt and smoothing it back down for you.

“I really need to go. It’s not possible to make this any easier.” You tell her, pushing her back as the doors start their final closing attempt. “Don’t forget me!”

“I won’t remember anything else.” She tells you, as the doors close, and neither of you have chance to change your minds.

It shouldn’t hurt like this. It was a one-night stand. They’re not rare. The pair of you crying after a single night together? That’s rare. That’s ridiculous.

Collapsing in on yourself as you try to catch your breath without her? That’s insanity.

The tears flow freely as you hold yourself up against the side of the elevator. You pull the neckline of her sweatshirt up over your nose and breathe her in. Playing make believe in your head, that she’s still with you. It’s a souvenir you’ll treasure. A living memory. Proof that it wasn’t a dream, and it certainly wasn’t a nightmare. It was your perfect little night, wrapped up with the world’s most perfect woman. The woman who’s running off back to Spain with your heart in her hand luggage.

All this longing, this desire, this love, for a woman that you barely know. A woman you have no hope in ever finding again. A woman you’ve fallen head over heels for, despite being straight. Straight straight straight.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine

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imaniwriting · 9 months

Note

Rafe Cameron Doing Lines and then being caught by reader who he promised to get clean very very angsty pleasee

(hate but love this at the same time)

Warnings : usage of drugs, underage drinking at party, swearing (tell me if i missed any)

Summary : after rafe broke his promise once again he has to pay a bigger price than his drugs will ever cost

Genre : Angst, Angst, Angst

Rafe was complety lost. He did line after line not caring for a single thing around him, the thought of selling drugs long lost. He had become greedy, any person that walked his way to buy some he had shot down.

“Rafe, dude” yelled topper over the loud music blasting through the speakers. Rafe looked up at him with the 50 dollar bill still held at his nose. “dude i thought you wanted to get clean”

Rafe shook his head chuckling “topper, bro, you know damn well that i only tell y/n that because she keeps bugging me” topper stared down at the boy. “well good luck explaining that one” he had said pointing behind the boy where you stood.

You stared at Rafe anger mirroring in your eyes before he could yell your name you stormed out pushing past coupples that were grinding on each other making disgust kreep onto your face.

“y/n!” he yelled stumbling over his own foot. “y/n please I didnt mean it like that!” he reasoned trying to catch up with you but he was stoned and it didnt help that there was hundreds of people around him.

You quickly got to your car before ripping the keys out of your pocket. But that gave him enough time to reach her. “What Rafe? you wanna tell me that you’ll get clean so i can stop bugging you?” you spit out making him flinch slighty.

He isnt used to you speaking to him like that “baby im sorry, I promise i’ll-“ but before he could finish the sentence you slapped him across the face. “Stop!” you shouted at him. “Stop! Promises are supposed to make you not break them!” you continued now with tears in your eyes “we pinky promised Rafe! God, you told me you could quit anything aslong as you kept me!” you then met his eyes who were twitching lightly. “am i not enough?”

That question made Rafe frown. Did he really make you feel like that? Like you werent enough? He took both of your hands into his cupping them slightly. “Y/n please don’t do this” he said knowing what you were playing at.

He let your hands fall to your side before grabbing your face with both hands forcing you to stare into his eyes. He leaned in to kiss you on your lips but you moved your head to the side. “Y/n please, im sorry baby” he tried to convince you but you just coldly shook your head.

“We’re done Rafe” you said making him let go of your face. He had just lost the love of his life to some stupid substance he couldn’t get enough off. He also just realized that this loss would hurt him more than anything.

Not being able to do coke or any drugs seemed so much easier than loosing you. You placed the car keys into his hand “ you can have this back.” You said his hand trembled not being able to hold the weight of the keys. The keys he had given you on your birthday last week.

“Good bye Rafe” you had said before taking off into the dark night. He wanted to run after you and beg for your forgiveness, god, you wanted that he would but you knew that he would return to his old habits and he’d disappoint you once again even he knew.

#rafe x you #rafe obx #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe angst #angst #bad ending #netflix #jj maybank #outer banks #obx

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221bshrlocked · 9 months

Text

Keep Your Religion

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Jedi AFAB!Reader

Words: 7630

Warnings: 18+ only. Starts off angsty then gets to the smut. Softer than usual Wolffe because that man would be madly in love when he finds his special someone. Lots of Kissing. Possessive Behavior/Words. Dirty/Sweet Talk..but mostly Sweet. Exhibitionism Kink if you like squint! Oral Sex (female receiving). Penetrative, Unprotected Sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong my dudes). Slight Breeding Kink. Wolffe is insatiable yall!

Summary: You try to end things with Wolffe because you fear your relationship will end badly due to the rules set in place for the Jedi and the Clones. Wolffe convinces you otherwise.

A/N: Can you believe I finished another fic? Neither can I. It was about time for another Wolffe fic so here you go my lovely humans. I hope you enjoy. Comments are always always always appreciated so let me know how I'm doing please and thank you. I do apologize that I'm not tagging, it hasn't been working for some reason since post editor changed permanently to this new looking editor. I'll try to figure it out I swear! P.S. this is the second of hopefully many more submissions for @clonexreaderbingo

Something about seeing him so relaxed and loose tugged at the strings of your heart. It was a rare sight, one you thought he would only grace you with when the two of you are alone together. But here he was, throwing back whatever shit drink the bar offered him and his brothers, all the while smiling at Cody’s remark about the new shinies embarrassing themselves in front of Anakin and Obi-Wan. You’re nursing your own drink in the corner, trying to find the best possible way to approach the booth without making a scene. He’d told you before that almost everyone close to him knew of your relationship, but you felt weird about dropping the pretenses. You were his boss, after all. Well, not completely his boss, but a commanding officer regardless. If you started acting extra friendly, you’re not sure how the rest of the Wolfpack would take it.

As you swirl the spotchka around, you suddenly feel like someone is watching you, hunting you even. There’s only one man who’s ever made you feel so heated and just as you look up from the glass in your hand towards the group of Clones you were previously studying, you notice Wolffe staring you down, the slightest hint of a smirk flashing at you in an attempt to get you to react to his attention.

Normally, you’d enjoy the subtle flirtatious expressions, even tease him a little to get a rise out of him before escaping to the nearest room to lure him for a private moment. Or, as private a moment as 79’s can offer a Jedi Master and a Commander of the Grand Republic Army.

But tonight was different. Tonight, you came out to the Clone bar to decide the best way to end things with Wolffe. It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you didn’t want to push your luck any further. Things were getting worse by the hour, and you couldn’t afford losing Wolffe all because some assholes in the Senate didn’t think he deserved to love or to be loved by someone. Then there was the matter of the Jedi Council, and how strict they were becoming. It was already frowned upon before the war, and it only took a few months into this galactic conflict for them to push their ideologies even harder on everyone at the Temple.

You would never forgive yourself if they punished him simply because you couldn’t stand being far away from him any longer. You narrow your eyes at Wolffe and down the rest of your drink, disappointed in yourself for not having the guts to tell him earlier.

And for knowing that you probably wouldn’t be able to do it tonight.

The smile on his face drops instantly when he notices you avoiding his gaze, and you curse yourself for ruining his night. It was going so well, and one look at you made the worry return to his mind again.

Clutching your robes tightly, you pay the bartender quickly before excusing yourself and heading towards the bathrooms in the back. You could feel the tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and the last thing you wished for is for someone to see you and make a huge fuss about it. As you push through the crowd, you feel those same pair of eyes hold you down harshly, as if they were refusing you permission to leave without confronting them.

Quickly wiping your eyes, you push open the doors and turn around to lock them behind you, only to nearly bump into the chest of the man you were hoping to avoid tonight. You gulp nervously, and before you can say anything, Wolffe tilts his head to the side and studies you closely, his eyes roaming down your body to see if anything needs his immediate attention.

When he finds nothing out of the ordinary, he takes a step closer to you and shuts the door behind him, not bothering to lock it as he continues to back you up until you hit the wall.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to avoid me.” His gaze is direct, unfaltering in the haze of lust he was sending you under. You furrow your eyebrows and try to look anywhere else but him, but as always, he doesn’t give you the easy way out. Grabbing the bottom of your chin, he turns you until you have no choice but to look straight into his eyes and respond.

“What if I was?” You’re not sure what pushes you to say something so defensive, but the chuckle it gets out of him makes you realize you had already lost whatever game he was playing with you.

“I’d say you should have gone to another bar.” He’s right. You know this, and he definitely knows this too. The ease with which he continues to have an effect on you would normally be welcomed, but you’re pissed at him. Pissed for being so weak for him. For not bothering to put up a fight.

“But here you are…at the one place you knew I was coming to tonight.” Wolffe leans down and nudges your temple with his nose, breathing in the scent of your sweat and perfume, and forcing you to reach for him so you don’t topple over from the sheer amount of control he has on you.

“So tell me mesh’la, what have I done to deserve the cold shoulder?” He whispers the question in your ear, slowly sliding his hands down your body until they reach your waist. You’re having a difficult time breathing, and you moan his name as you throw your head back when he squeezes your hips and pushes his chest impossibly closer into your own.

“I- you didn’t…it,” you can’t form a coherent sentence, let alone a sensical thought, when you’re so overwhelmed by his presence alone. You thought he would laugh at you, but when his breathing becomes nearly as erratic as your own, you understand that he was genuinely trying to figure out if he’s done something wrong. His methods seldom changed, and you weren’t surprised that he was trying to get you to talk by touching you as intimately as possible without tearing your clothes off.

“Don’t tell me I did nothing wrong…sir. Something must have happened, or else you would be begging me to have my way with you right now. So what is it? What have I done?” Wolffe repeats again, making you feel guilty for your behavior and for what you’ve been thinking of doing since the last time you were together. You remind yourself that he deserves someone better, someone who wouldn’t compromise his position in the GAR all because of their messed-up religion. He deserved so much more than you.

And the mere mention of your rank made it worse.

“W-Wolffe, I umm, I can’t do this anymore.” You know this was the last thing he expected you to say because in the blink of an eye, he’s removing himself from you completely and putting space between your shaking body and his own wound up chest. When you muster up the courage to look into his eyes, a shiver courses down your spine.

It has been so long since he’s given you such a look, one that was filled with nothing but suspicion and guardedness. He’s quiet for longer than you like, and when you reach for him in an attempt to console him, his frown deepens and he twitches away from you. You hadn’t expected such a reaction to hurt this much, but it does, and like before, you have no control over the stream of tears rolling down your chin. Again, it’s not what he expects to witness from you, certainly not after what you just declared to him, and when you sniffle to get yourself under control, he closes the space between you more aggressively than before, slamming his hands on both sides of your face and clenching his jaws tightly when he sees you pouting at him.

“I don’t know what I’ve done, I don’t. But I’m sorry regardless. I am so very sorry. Whatever it is, we can talk it out. It’s not worth throwing away all that we have. Please. Just- krifff…tell me what it is I have done, and I will get down on my knees right now and beg for your forgiveness. But don’t do this, don’t give up on us.” In all your time knowing Wolffe, you’ve never once heard him speak with such a tone. He was always assertive, confident and unwavering in his commanding presence.

But the only thing you could feel now is his fear.

“You did nothing wrong, it’s me…it’s all me Wolffe.” You know this won’t be enough for him, but you try to convince him regardless. Then he drops his head against your shoulder and you know you won’t be able to hold out much longer.

“I wasn’t born yesterday sweetheart. If you’ve ever held an ounce of respect for me, you’ll tell me what I did wrong. You owe me that much. I- I deserve to know.” If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was close to breaking down as well.

“I do Wolffe, I respect you…more than anyone. You have to know that.” You hope he doesn’t turn away when you reach for him again, and as you cup his cheeks in the palms of your hands to raise his attention to you, you’re met with an expression you never thought you’d see on his features.

“You haven’t done anything baby, it’s me. It’s…all me.” If you were a better person, you would have been consistent in your tone with him, but seeing him so torn down broke you, and you couldn’t not soothe him the way you always did whenever he comes back from a particularly difficult mission.

“You deserve someone better Wolffe, someone who would never compromise your safety. Being with me is- it’s getting dangerous. The Council is becoming more strict…the Senate even worse. If they court martial you because you’re with me, I- I don’t know what I would do.” There’s something so gut-wrenching about the way he refuses to look away from your moving lips, and when you stop talking, he doesn’t blink once, his cybernetic eye focusing in and out before slowly blinking along with the other.

“Someone better?” It’s clear that he’s still hurt by the word vomit you threw at him, but whereas his voice showed it earlier, the shakiness and reluctance is gone now, replaced with a menacing, almost angry tone that you were too familiar with, one that you’ve witnessed during battle when his orders weren’t obeyed immediately.

“I can’t give you what you want Wolffe, not without hurting you eventually…unintentionally. My- my religion, it’s becoming a threat to your well-being. It’s not worth the hassle. I am not worth the hassle. You could do so much better than-” Whatever you’re about to say gets lost in the damp air of the room as soon as Wolffe decides he’s heard enough of what was on your mind. He grips your neck tightly, winding his other arm around your back and violently pulling you into his embrace as he swallows your surprised shrieks. Your frown deepens for another moment before you surrender yourself to the possessive kiss, and Wolffe must feel you melting into his arms because he growls against your lips and claims your tongue without remorse.

His hold on you only grows stronger when he feels your arms move to wrap around his neck, and when he’s sure you’re trying to get closer to him and not push him away, he tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss, not caring for how messy or aggressive he’s being with you as he shoves his tongue past your lips and reminds you of what you could be missing if you got what you wanted and left him.

As the need for air becomes difficult to ignore, Wolffe breaks the kiss and gives the two of you a moment of respite. When he opens his eyes and finds your orbs glistening with unshed tears, he swears beneath his breath and lunges for you again, the hand around your throat loosening for a fraction of a second before tightening around your jugular and forcing you to accept his rejection of your wishes. You moan into the kiss, allowing him to take whatever he wants from you, knowing that he wasn’t going to allow you to go through with whatever it is you thought you could get away with tonight. When he’s content with the reactions of your mind and body to his touch,

“You nearly broke my heart, ner runi. Don’t ever say that to me again!” Wolffe refuses to let go of you, afraid you’d leave the room thinking that he agreed to the sentiment you dropped on him a second ago. When you say nothing in return, he shakes his head and crushes you into his arms, nuzzling into your neck and breathing you in to attempt and calm his nerves. He prays that you give him some form of an answer that confirms your understanding of what he just said, but when you don’t, Wolffe sighs heavily and pulls back enough to take a better look at you.

“Wolffe, we need to talk ab-” Again, he doesn’t care for what you have to say and cuts you off, letting you know that this was definitely the end of the conversation.

“No, we’re done talking. You can keep your religion sweetheart, I couldn’t care less for its consequences…but don’t you fucking dare and ask me to abandon mine.” His voice is firm, the familiar unyielding articulation confirming to you that he’s already made up his mind on the matter. There would be no more on the matter.

As much as you hate to admit it, it feels like a bantha has lifted one of its feet off your chest. You look into his eyes and find them filled with a more familiar emotion, one that kept you going ever since you confessed your feelings to him. You thought it would be difficult to get him to accept your proposition, but you realize then and there that it was definitely harder for you to come to terms with your initial thoughts.

You slowly smile at him, and it must be what Wolffe needs to hear to forget the last few minutes because his touches become less crazed and more soothing, a level of intimacy you’re always yearning for when the two of you are away from each other for too long.

“And what...what is your religion?” You barely find the attention span to ask, the familiarity of his touch and his voice sending you down a spiral of lust-filled thoughts that only increased the longer Wolffe remained in your presence.

“Your body is my religion cyar’ika, and I’m not planning on losing my faith any time soon.” The confession is lewd, mostly because he’s using your weakness to drive the message home. But as dirty as the admission sounded on his lips, you couldn’t help but sink into his embrace, wanting to hear more of him so you could forget about why you were here in the first place.

“Is that s-so?” You’re practically shaking in his arms, and Wolffe uses your momentary distraction to tug your robes apart and leave a trail of kisses down your neck to where he wanted to bite you most.

“Yeah,” he licks at your skin, wishing with all his heart he could have you right then and there. It’s not as if the two of you haven’t fucked at 79’s before. He just knew that you both needed something more, something that he can only accomplish in the privacy of his rooms.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to excuse myself for the night, tell the boys I have to finish reports for the General.” He slips a hand underneath the edge of your shirt, drawing circles on your waist until you slowly begin to roll your hips into him.

“Ahuh,” you’re not really paying attention to what he’s saying, your body already frozen with anticipation now that it felt his hands and his tongue leaving marks across it again.

“Focus,” he squeezes your ass, shaking it twice to get you to open your eyes and look past the haze to obey his next commands.

“Yes sir.” You bite into your lip and giggle when he narrows his eyes at you and mumbles something about punishing you for being a tease.

“You’re going to leave shortly after, something about being needed back at the Temple.” Your stomach twists in knots when you realize he’s using his ‘Commander’ voice on you, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck and mold your lips with his own when you remember the last time he used that same tone on you.

What a night it was.

“And where w-will I actually be going?” You ask as soon as Wolffe pulls you away and breaks the kiss.

“My room baby, where you’ll stay for the rest of the night.” He says matter of factly, as if you shouldn’t even be asking his such a question.

“Pray tell, Commander. What will we be doing that- oh kriff, that will require me to spend the night in your quarters?” You throw your head back when his hand slithers up your body and cups your breast through your Jedi robes. You can almost feel the heat radiating off the palm of his hand, and the harder he gropes you through your clothes, the more you wish he would just push you down on all fours and fuck you into oblivion.

“Well, I don’t know about you sweetheart, but I’ll be practicing my faith...and worshiping every inch of your body until the only thing you can feel is me.” The smirk on his face would be menacing if you weren’t so used to it by now, and you gasp lightly when he leans down and bites the skin of your shoulder peeking from beneath your cloak.

“Oh gods-”

“That’s it, moan for me cyar’ika. I want the whole fucking bar to know who makes you feel good.” Wolffe shoves your thighs apart and pushes his leg in between, slowly moving you back and forth on him to give you a preview of what’s to come tonight.

“Wolffe, please. I need you.” You fall forward against his chest, whining for him as he continues to move you across his thigh and dares you to come from such a simple touch.

“Oh, now you need me?” You know he’s joking without looking at him, but the question throws you off guard and you snap your gaze up to see if he was hurt by what you said previously.

“I- I didn’t…I’m sorry.”

“None of that.” Wolffe shakes his head, not wanting to ruin the moment by something so trivial. He slows down his touches but keeps you moving on him, hoping to distract you long enough to make this night a little better for the both of you.

“Wolffe,” you call for him again, not in warning but in desperation, hoping that he can see how sorry you are for ever doubting what the two of you had.

“That was cruel of me, forgive me sweetheart.” His voice is soft, so much sweeter than before, and you’re reminded by how quickly his mood changes whenever he senses you’re upset or angry.

“How could you ask that when I am the one who hurt you?” You should drop it, everything that he’s done is proof that you should let this go and get back to more important matters, but you can’t stop yourself from asking him, wanting to know why he’s always so patient and caring with you when he was the one who deserved better.

“You didn’t hurt me, cyare.”

“I did, I- I almost…”

“You could never hurt me, little one. Never.” Like before, he doesn’t care for whatever you have to say, not because he doesn’t value your words, but because he knows how difficult your relationship with him probably weighs on your mind.

Even from the beginning.

You study him for what feels like hours but is probably only seconds. And you wonder how anyone could ever think him cruel and rude when he was so loving and unbelievably long-suffering. Without warning, you throw yourself at him, mirroring his actions from before and shoving your mouth against his own to feel grounded. He doesn’t waste a second, pushing you harder against the wall and sucking on your tongue until you were a moaning mess in his embrace.

“F-fuck, if you keep that up, I won’t- kriff, I won’t hold back.” Wolffe rests his forehead against yours, trying to keep himself in check so he doesn’t end up embarrassing the two of you by what his body is willing to do.

“Then don’t!”

“You want me to fuck you right here, where anyone can walk in and see you getting filled with my cock?” He shouldn’t be surprised by how wanton you are, and although he knows he should step away and put some space between you and him, he can’t help but retort with his own teasing comment.

“Please Commander.” You lean up and kiss his jugular, nipping at the skin just above his armor and soothing it with another kiss before laying your head back and meeting his intense gaze.

“Always playing dirty. Just for that, you’ll have to wait.” Wolffe clears his throat and eyes you up and down before taking a few steps back. He barely manages to hold back from laughing when you stumble forward and nearly lose your footing. You’re about to complain when he raises a hand and silences you, furrowing his eyebrows at you in an attempt to look intimidating.

“Another word, and I won’t give you my cock tonight.” He warns calmly, smirking immediately when you shake your head and tell him you’ll be good.

“No please, I’ll stop. I’ll behave, I swear.”

“You’ll behave-?” The question trails until the room is silent again and you know instantly what you said wrong.

“Commander.” You whisper to him as you try to fix your clothes and hair so you don’t look like you were fucked against a wall by the Commander of the 104th Battalion. You don’t dare smile at him, afraid he’d misunderstand the gesture for another one of your teasing expressions and completely throw the night away.

“Good girl, now do as you’re told and I promise to reward you.” He watches you saunter past him and before you unlock the door, he smacks your ass quite harshly, watching you closely to see if you were going to behave or retort like you usually do.

“Yes, sir.” You don’t dare give into his tricks, hoping to get through the next hour or so without getting distracted, or worse…caught.

“Off you go.” He gestures for you to leave before him, and when you’re no longer in sight, he shuts his eyes and sighs in relief. Wolffe is not sure how the two of you got to where you are now, but considering the fact that he expected something like this to happen since you got together, he’s relieved that it was for reasons different from what his mind conjured up all those nights he spent alone in his bed.

You walk out and move towards the bar again, your eyes roaming across the busy bar and waiting until Wolffe walks out before you make sure that no one noticed the two of you together. He follows you soon after, finding you almost instantly and winking at you before he heads towards his men. You watch as he tells Sinker to give him his helmet, and you assume they all roll their eyes not a second later because he told them he needed to get some paperwork done.

But as soon as Cody looks at you, he knows what Wolffe is planning on doing, and before you can turn away from him, he raises his glass and smiles at you before downing the rest of his drink. You should be embarrassed at being seen, but something about the way the Commander gestures at you makes you smile, as if he was telling you that he hoped the two of you are okay. You shake your head at him and throw your hood up, walking to the Commander of the 21st Nova Corps to let him know you’ll be leaving earlier tonight.

“Ah General, I was wondering when you’ll be joining us.” You smile at Commander Bacara and the boys, giving them a few credits to let them know the next two rounds were on you.

“Sorry Bacara, I’m calling it early tonight. Needed back at the Temple!” You feel bad for lying to him, but as always, he doesn’t ask for an elaboration, telling you that he hopes you don’t have to do too much paperwork while you’re still on break.

“See you later,” you nod at him and the others when they salute you, and just as you walk out of the bar, you vaguely hear them yell for the droid making its rounds to get them a round of quanya.

“Hmm, didn’t peg them for the type.” You mutter to yourself as you step out into the chilly Coruscant air, looking around to see if Wolffe was anywhere to be seen or if he has already left. When you don’t sense his Force signature nearby, you make your way towards the speeder bike Anakin lent you and bring it to life, trying your best to contain yourself so you wouldn’t be caught by another Jedi nearby.

You make your way through the streets as quickly as possible, and when you make it to the Temple, you park the bike nearby and think of the best way to make it through the barracks without being seen by any of the Masters…or Commanders.

It’s not the first time you entered the barracks, and under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be strange to see a Jedi making their way through the hallways. But it was nearly midnight, and you weren’t sure you could lie your way through a question if you were caught before you made it to Wolffe’s quarters. You’re about to reach out to the Force to see if anyone is awake when you hear footsteps approaching you from behind. The familiarity of its warmness sets your mind at ease, and you take a deep breath before you turn to face him.

“Commander.”

“General, is there something I can help you with?” He’s putting on a show for the surveillance cameras, and you clear your throat before you tell him something about wanting to review the plans for the next mission.

“Very well,” he’s curt in his response, and you get the sense that he may be avoidant because he has about as much control around you as you do whenever you so much as hear the mention of his name.

“Thank you, Commander Wolffe.” He nearly falters in his steps at hearing you call his name, and he swears beneath his breath as a way of warning. You nearly smile at his reaction, but you remember how closely the guards watch the cameras and you choose to switch your attention to the ground. Not another word passes between the two of you, and as you reach his room, you feel your heart threaten to leap out of your chest at the prospect of finally spending a night with him.

Up until now, the two of you had to make do with stolen moments and short breaks, whether on missions or back here. Neither of you have ever spent the night alone, and you find it fitting that tonight would be it. It’s comforting and nerve-wrecking all at once, and as soon as you step into his quarters, you allow yourself to take in the calm before the storm.

Before the door slides completely shut, Wolffe is on you like a moth to a flame, nearly ripping your clothes off of your body as he pushes you down onto his bed.

“W-Wolffe, I-” You try to ask him why he’s so frantic and crazed all of a sudden but he lets go of you and stands to his height, making quick work of his armor in record time all the while keeping you still with the mere look in his eyes.

“I can’t do slow tonight, can’t wait another fucking second without having you.” You always admired how much care he puts into his armor whenever he’s taking it off or putting it back on, so seeing him drop each pass to the ground sends a zap of lightning down your spine.

You mirror his actions without another word, throwing your boots and socks away before struggling to take your pants off. Moments later, you feel the bed dip once Wolffe crawls towards you, his muscles flexing in such a menacing way that makes you fall back into the sheets and wait for him to tell you what to do next.

But then he says nothing, and you’re torn between asking him what he needs from you and letting you do whatever the fuck he wants. He reaches for the edge of your pants and tugs them right down your legs, not once blinking as he violently takes your sweater off and throws it somewhere behind him. You’re left in nothing but your undergarments, and as you twist your arms to take your bra off, Wolffe shoves your thighs apart and makes space for himself in between.

“I need you, now.” His voice should terrify you, it should be enough of a warning for what he has in store for you. But you find it exhilarating, knowing that only you could get him to lose this much control. You try to reach for him, wanting to feel his skin beneath the tips of your fingers, but Wolffe shakes his head and grabs both of your wrists in one hand, slamming them above your head and tightening the hold he has on them while he slithers his other hand down your nude body.

“If it were up to me mesh’la, I’d tie you to this fucking bed and have my way with you whenever I want. I’d- kriff, I’d fill you with my cum every minute of every fucking day…so everyone would know you’re mine…so they know that I’m yours.” He teases you through your panties, rubbing lazy circles across the damp spot quickly becoming larger.

“Wolffe, please…take me.” You whine his name in desperation, hoping he’d finally give you his cock and end your misery.

“I swear to the maker sweet girl, I’m going to fuck you all night long…kiss every inch of you, mark you with my teeth and hands until you’re my very own altar. I’m going to worship you baby, but only if you promise me one thing.” Wolffe slips his fingers beneath the flimsy material of your panties, rubbing at your clit furiously to get you to focus on him and him only.

“A-anything…anything Commander.” You turn to the side and kiss his forearm, hoping he’d see how willing you are to do whatever he asks of you.

“Pray for me.” As you look bite into his skin, Wolffe pushes his hard dick into your cunt, not bothering to give you a moment to get used to being so full before he starts fucking into you with sharp thrusts. You’re screaming his name instantly, arching your back from the sheer amount of pain and pleasure he was bringing upon you so quickly.

“FUck, there we go…such a good fucking girl for me, screaming my name so sweetly. Go on ner Jetii’ika, tell everyone who fucks you like the perfect cockdumb whore you are.” He leans down and bites the top of your breasts, letting go of your wrists for a brief second so he can rip the last bit of clothing shielding you from his hungry eyes.

“Wolffe…f-ffuck, oh gods…Wolffe!” You twist your fingers into his bed sheets, crossing your legs behind his back and whining for him when he descends down on you and sucks on your nipple. His hand seeks out your own, and when he intertwines his fingers with yours, he grunts and growls against your skin, reaching for the other breast and groping you harshly until the only thing you can feel is his tongue, and his hands, and his cock wreaking havoc on you.

Wolffe knows he should slow down, perhaps be a little less demanding with you. But something about seeing you in his bed when everyone else is asleep makes him more possessive, more needy with your body. And it didn’t help how you were reacting to his advances, how completely you surrendered your body to him without so much as a question. He opens his eyes and roams them over your already bruising skin, and when he finds you wanting for more, he increases his pace and fucks you until you couldn’t even breathe out his name.

You sense his gaze on you, and as you look through heavy-lidded eyes, you find him completely focused on your dazed expression.

“Wolffe, I- I love you.” You’re not sure what makes you say those words now, but a voice in your heart told you this was the right moment. You’ve spoken before about what this thing between the two of you was, and you knew, as well as he, that this would be it. There would be no one else, not for him, and definitely not for you.

But you’ve never actually said those words out loud. You’ve said it in the way you kissed him, in the way you gave yourself to him…and Wolffe had pretty much conveyed them to you with every stolen glance and every quick touch he managed to sneak when the two of you passed each other on the General’s ship.

Like before, Wolffe hasn’t expected to hear you part with such a confession, now of all times. He falters in his pace for a brief moment before he sinks his cock into you and stills completely, wanting to be as close and connected with you as possible when he finally said what he’s felt for you since you introduced yourself to him.

“Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum…cyare.” You let out a quiet sob at the intimacy of the moment, and Wolffe wraps his arms around your neck and your waist to feel you against every bit of his skin. His thrusts are shallow, barely leaving you empty out of fear of losing this moment. You throw your arms around his neck and bring him flush against you, crying for him one last time as he seals your lips with his own and sinks into your wet cunt.

The world comes to a halt around you, and all you can feel is Wolffe’s lips claiming your mouth just as he fills you with his seed. You come with him, shaking softly in his arms as his hot cum shoots into you and coats your walls with proof of his need to mark every fucking inch of you. It’s too much and not enough, and you push your heels into his ass in an attempt to bring him even closer to you. It’s not possible, you know that, but you want nothing more than to have him sink into your body until you weren’t sure where he ended and you began.

Wolffe is fighting for his life, torn between giving you a second to breathe and quite literally stealing your breath to fill his lungs with your essence. He parts for a brief moment and looks at you, kissing your eyes softly before shoving his lips against yours again. You don’t dare ask him to give you a moment of respite, mostly because you’re sure you would miss him if he were to put space between your skin and his lips.

Suddenly, the world turns around and you break the kiss unintentionally, gasping in surprise when he turns the two of you around until he’s laying on his back and you on top of him. You smile against his jaw when you feel his hands slide down your back and grab at your ass. As he starts moving your hips back and forth, you nuzzle into his neck and breathe in his scent, licking and kissing his skin the more he fucks his cum deep into your cunt.

“W-Wolffe…”

“I’m not done with you yet, ner kar’ta.” The promise is both teasing and terrifying, but you can’t find it in yourself to hesitate, not when he was promising you the stars all night long.

And he does, he brings you the heavens until you can no longer breathe without tasting the cosmos on your tongue. With every touch of his fingers, you beg him for more…more of his sweet words, more of his sinful kisses, more of his needy cock.

He fucks you until you lose your voice, and when he’s sure he’s rung your body of every ounce of pleasure it can offer him, he fucks you some more, filling your pussy until you were nothing but a mess, a mixture of his seed and your juices.

And then he pushes you down and parts your thighs to pull you apart with his tongue, and you feel that familiar heat rise in your chest all over again. You tug on his hair, torn between urging him to make you cum again and pleading for him to stop because you could no longer stand the pleasure. You were so sensitive, and Wolffe knew very well how painful the ecstasy was becoming, but some twisted part of him wanted to mark your cunt with his teeth and tongue as well. He wanted to devour you, body and soul. Your release comes in the form of a silent cry, and Wolffe laps up your mixed cum until you can’t take it anymore, softly pushing his shoulders away so he can slow down.

There is a lazy smile on your features, one that deepens further when you see Wolffe crawling on top of you and leaving a trail of wet kisses across your sweaty skin.

“Satisfied?” He dares to ask, lightly pinching your nipples when you don’t respond right away. You giggle at the touch, pulling him closer to you so he can kiss you some more. He melts into your body, roaming his hands across the tired muscles until he has no choice but to fall beside you.

You hum in response, studying his relaxed expression and laying the softest of kisses on his forehead before pulling him into your neck. Neither of you say anything, and only when your breathing steadies does Wolffe pull away to make sure you’re comfortable and asleep.

He sits up on his elbows and takes in his handiwork, biting his lower lip when he sees the bruises already forming all over your body. The contentment falters for a split second, but his worries evaporate when you sleepily reach for him and bring him back into your arms. He mutters his love for you one last time before surrendering to the comfort of your embrace, falling into a deep sleep almost as soon as he rests his cheek on your shoulder.

It’s hours later when you wake, and you groan tiredly when the sunbeams hit your eyes and make it difficult to escape them. You turn to the other side and peek through your lashes, only to find Wolffe already wide awake, softly touching the length of your arm with his lips and nose, as if he was tracing every little mark he left on your body from last night. He looks up when he notices your breaths coming in erratically, winking at you and smirking at the sudden spirit of shyness falling over your tired form.

“I can taste the sunlight on your skin.” He moans against your clavicle, lightly nipping at the skin over the bone when you turn away from him and hide beneath the sheets.

“Hmm…such a smooth talker.” You groan from underneath the shield you’ve created, giggling like a little girl when Wolffe tugs them away and attacks your face with playful nips and kisses.

“Only for you cyar’ika.” He whispers into your ear before biting at the space just below it, his touches becoming less playful and more needy as he takes in the way your body is reacting to his advances.

“Wolffe, your lips feel so good.” You throw your head back and sink your nails into the muscles on his back, gasping for air the longer Wolffe continues to mark you up. It’s almost as if he was looking for spots on your skin he hasn’t left his bite marks or fingerprints on. Not that you were complaining.

“Just my lips, General?” You can hear the smile on his handsome face, and you nearly push back to edge him on, but you realize it would serve you better to give into him and tell him what he wants to hear.

“N-no, it’s everything you do to me Wolffe. It’s in your touch…your- your voice…your cock.”

“My little Jedi can’t get enough of me.” He shifts you in his arms until you’re laying on your stomach, and when you try to look back to see what he has in mind, he combs his finger into your hair and pushes you into the pillows until he has access to your back. When he hears whine his name, he descends down on you like a crazed man, sinking his teeth into the skin he wasn’t able to reach last night while pulling on your hair to remind you who was in charge.

“Oh gods…never, Wolffe. Never. I want you all the kriffing time, even now…I just want you to- to,” you forget what you want to say, the need to commit this moment to memory outweighing whatever information your mind wanted to part with. It must be the reaction Wolffe was wanting for because he chuckles against your heated skin and finishes your thought for you.

“Claim you?”

“Please.” You try to push the sheets away from you so you can feel him against your back, and Wolffe lets go of you for a split second to let you do whatever you wish, returning flush against you once you’re completely nude to his eyes. He’s on you in the blink of an eye, teasing you with the head of his hard cock while keeping a firm hold on your hips so you don’t move against him.

“Can’t really do that now, can I mesh’la?” He struggles through his words, his hungry eyes picturing all the things he still wants to do to you as you lay there beneath him, willingly submitting your entire self to him without a second thought.

“You’re already mine, little Jedi. You’re mine, have been since you came here all those months ago and told me you wanted me.” He massages your back with his calloused hands, trying to come to terms with the fact that he will never be close enough to you. He’ll never get tired of this. He’ll never not want to touch you with everything he’s got.

“But since you plead so sweetly,” you moan into the sheets as you feel him part your thighs and slowly sink his cock into your swollen cunt, keeping you filled to the brim and refusing to move until you begged some more.

“Wolffe...” You reach back and tug on his hair to bring him closer to you, the need to hear what you do to him igniting a flame in your chest, one that only he could put out by showing you how much he craves you.

“F-ffuck, you’ve ruined the mornings for me cyare. Now I- I won’t stop thinking of your wet, tight pussy when I…kriff, when I wake up.” Wolffe bites into your shoulder as he rolls his hips into you, no longer able to control his desires from you. He wanted you to know the effect you have on him, the hold you had on his very soul ever since you walked onto his ship and offered your aid all those months ago.

“I’m yours Commander, always. Y-you can have me whenever you want.” You sigh heavily when he growls against your skin and continues to fuck into you without caring for how rough he’s being.

“E-even at sunrise, General?” Wolffe chuckles as soon as your cunt clenches tightly around him at the mention of the honorific, letting you know that he enjoys calling you by your rank as much as he does when you moan his.

“Especially at sunrise-” You barely manage to breathe out, smiling through the assault he was bringing on your body as you surrender yourself completely to him.

“My little tracinya,” Wolffe nuzzles into the crook of your neck, content with the way you seem to melt the harder he fills you with his cock. A part of him knows he should maybe discuss the incident from last night, but he finds it difficult to pay any mind to your words when he already has you so willing and wanting beneath him.

Later, he would consider the little issue of your religion later.

But for now, he was adamant on showing you his own.

#CFB2023 #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe/reader #commander wolffe #the clone wars #star wars #star wars the clone wars #wolffe #cc-3636 #cc3636 #cc 3636 #clone x reader #clones x reader #clone fanfiction #commander wolffe fanfiction

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rainee-da · 5 months

Text

🍀 Your First "I Love You" [2]

CHARACTER ❥ Delisaster 🍾 / Domina Blowelive 💧 / Cell War 💎

W A R N I N G ⚠️ PG-13 fluff with hurt/comfort on some / BIG SPOILER!!!! / might be too OOC for you.

D E L I S A S T E R 🪞

He was simply lounging around, stuffing himself with booze (rip that liver) when you suddenly come into the room.

At first, he didn't pay any mind to it. He gave you one of his toothy smiles as he leaned back on the chair lazily, waving a bottle of booze to your face, saying "Eyy sup', want some?"

When you finally say the magic word, he suddenly goes blank.

Not like a 'mind-blank' type of blank, but his face suddenly goes blank. All the shine in his eyes, his smiles, vanish into the void.

Honestly, this will make you feel afraid. Did you anger him? Did he not feel the same?

He suddenly picked up his phone and made a call to someone with a low whispering tone, too low for you to hear anything, and walked away. Leaving you alone with your thoughts.

But before you could think of any worst-case scenarios, a bunch of his goons suddenly barge into the room bringing... party popper???

Delisaster finally comes back being brought in by his goons... on a sedan chair???

At least, you're now relieved because he's now giving you a wide smile. A bit too wide. Scrap that- now you're creeped out.

Before you could ask about what the hell was going on, all of his goons popped the party popper, and a bunch of pink-shaded confetti flew across the room. Good luck seeing anything at all.

As soon as you're able to scrap off any of the confetti that is stuck on your face, you've now realized that the confetti is shaped into a heart. Kinda cute tbh.

And out of nowhere, he's already in front of you. Smiling wide, hugging you tight, laughing maniacally.

"YAHOOOOOOOO YOU SAID THE MAGIC WOOOO-" rip your ears.

All of the goons that surround you are now crying for some damn reason, passing a box of tissues around. Is this a wedding? a funeral??

Finally calming down, Delisaster finally leans back to take a look at your face. Now you can see that his smile is so gentle and he's looking at you oh so fondly.

He's caressing your face as if you're made of glass, and this is the most gentle and affectionate you've ever seen him. Usually, he's a menace to society

"I know I never really made you feel easy around me, especially with my reputation and all... not even my brothers can stand me... I don't even know if I deserve you," his voice breaks slightly as he leans closer your ear, "But you made me the happiest man, and I can never thank you enough for that... I love you too, baby."

... That would be so romantic if only the goons around you aren't screaming an ugly-ass cry, with the sound of snots being sniffed as ambience.

D O M I N A B L O W E L I V E 💧

He chokes on his apple juice, almost snorting liquid through his nose when you suddenly come up to him and say those.

"W-what do you mean??" he stammers with his face now as vibrant as his hair, eyes shaky as they darted around to avoid your gaze. "Do... do you even understand what you're saying? how serious that word is??"

Man is so melodramatic, but you can't blame him. All his life he believes that any form of endearment given to someone means that there is any ulterior motives behind it and things such as 'pure love' is just a thing from a fantasy book.

You are fully aware of his upbringing, so you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't believe you right away.

What you didn't expect though is for him to go into full-teacher mode and info-dumping you about the definition of love.

He deadass mansplaining 'Love' to you by citing sources from dictionaries, biology, and psychology studies.

He's so academically smart and his brain is like a walking dictionary but he's misusing it in such a weird way.

After he's done with his rant explanation that who knows how long it is, he'll avert his gaze from yours. He's panting slightly as he broke in with his question, "Now that you understand, next time don't say those words so easily to someone," he huffed slightly and crossed his arms, "It's not like I've ever done anything to you that warrants something such as that, you know."

Okay, now that understandably pissed you off. So it's now your turn to go on full-tangent on why you love him, what you love about him, how you didn't need him to do anything for you to love him, and about how his view of love is full of shit.

And now it's his turn to be bewildered. Your outburst has effectively overwhelming his heart with warmness that he never felt before in his life.

By the time you're done his face that is previously tinted pink now goes scarlet red. His mouth is agape and shaking slightly like a fish in the open air, and all of the retort he intended to throw is stuck in his throat.

Domina_Blowelive.exe stopped working lol.

"Whatever! You're stupid anyway," is the only counter he could throw back at you, and Gods he hate how weak that ended up coming out from his mouth.

Before you could say anything back to him he already turned his back and stomped away from you, huffing and mumbling profanities.

He's so embarassed that he didn't pay any attention to his path and ended up turning left a bit too early, and slamming his head onto the wall.

If Levis and the gang are around to see that, they'll not be alive for long lol.

You're the only one who could make the top students of the prestigious magic school Walkis Academy turn into a cuckoo mess. Congratulations!

It will take you a while for him to finally believe and accept your feelings. Even so, you didn't need him to say anything to know that he feels the same way.

His journey to recovery is still long ahead, he needs more time to unpack those childhood trauma that led him to become the person that he was. But I swear it will be worth it.

Please be patient with him ♥

C E L L W A R 💎

"What do you want now?" he said as he stared at you with an exhausted look on his face, checking you out to figure out your intention based on body language alone.

Because that's the only reason for his whole existence in this world, right? to give and to serve?

You repeated your confession, and now he stares at you dumbfounded. He narrowed his eyes and exhaled in frustration as he ruffled your hair slightly.

"Don't say such a useless thing next time. It's a burden."

Yeouwch that comes out wrong doesn't it?

Even though what he means by that is that it is useless for YOU to love HIM, and it will only burden YOU to love HIM.

But what do you expect? he survives his whole life in the attendance of Innocent Zero's deranged family by belittling himself down, doing all the nuisance and humiliating tasks to stroke Innocent Zero's children's ego. what a bunch of manchild.

Being negative and blunt comes as a second nature to him.

But then again, now you're hurt. What makes it worse is that before you can ask him to clarify what he means he's already out of sight, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

He realizes that you seem like you're about to cry before he goes, and he can feel his heart ache to see you making that expression. Then again, what he said is not exactly wrong, right?

He's only realized what he did when Delisaster waltzing to him out of nowhere, whistling towards him and teasing him about "being so cold to your booboo."

He can feel his soul draining out of his body as he listens to Delisaster's explanation that is filled with a bunch of degrading mockery because let me remind you again he's a menace.

Delisaster finally saunters off somewhere else. Cell takes this short amount of time to his advantage and goes hell-bent on finding you.

The maid and butler that come past him are confused because they never see Cell that mortified.

Upon finding you, he wastes no time and lunges towards you on instinct, effectively tackling you to the ground as if he's a bounty hunter. But he made sure to hug your head before it slammed to the ground, burying it in his chest.

His mind goes blank at the sudden closeness and now he has no games. Honestly, he didn't know what to say either even if his mind did not go blank. Man really had no games.

But he still tries his best, like he always does. He leans back slightly while still pining you down, staring at you with eyes wavering, a mixture of anxiousness and affection.

"I... just realized I worded it wrongly before..." he stated hesitantly as a start as he proceeded to explain his thought process, "Honestly, I don't know if I should even be indulging in these feelings... I have my master to serve, and I'm afraid you will get hurt if he finds out."

His mouth clumsily formed into a thin smile, his hand reaches towards your hair, twirling it on his finger and taking a mental note of how soft it was, "But, to answer yours... I feel the same, and always has been."

The smile that grows on your face makes his world stop for a moment. Stunning him into silence as he stares into your eyes that is full of life and affection. His mind then wanders, imagining things that a tool like him should have no right to dream of.

'Wouldn't it be so nice... if I could live a normal life with you?'

This is the continuation of this headcanon! I initially intended for this to be included in the previous post but alas; I hit a roadblock lolol-

I've been thinking back and forth between adding Cell War or not. But I didn't care what anyone say; Cell War is part of the family too! I want to make hcs this angsty boi so much

I'll be ending this prompt right here and move on to the next one I had in mind (I'm currently in Mash's brother hyper-fixation phases and will be writing tons of them in the future lol). If you want me to write for other character feel free to request one as long as the ask is open!

Thank you for reading!🍀

#🍀❛ RAINEE ༉‧₊˚#mashle: magic and muscles #mashle #mashle headcanons #mashle imagines #mashle scenarios #mashle x reader #mashle delisaster #delisaster #delisaster x reader #mashle domina #domina blowelive #domina blowelive x reader #mashle cell war #cell war #cell war x reader #devils quintuplet

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funeralpartyclown · 24 days

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dale has got to have insane kinks…… like this man is going to want to have cameras on you and shove random shit up you and make you say weird stuff to him . I LOVE HIM I CANT

SO TRUE…

Sorry if this is too much for you guys im just writing anything I think of 😭 pls lmk if it gets to be too much,,

I think he would be into a lot of worse stuff. Blood, knife play, bondage (unsafe probably) corruption, marking you up, age gaps (LEGALLY. Not that kinda freaky)

Cameras for sure, he’d love that. Pull your hair and force you to look right at it while he rams into you from behind. The way it makes it feel so much dirtier, his own personal pornstar. He’d watch them over CONSTANTLY and make you watch too while whispering filthy things into your ear.

Random stuff in you, I can see that. I imagine him having very few limits,, as much as I do love him. You cannot look at a picture of him and go yeah that’s a regular guy. He is into anything and everything fucked up and weird. If you’d let him do that he’d abuse the opportunity and just see what he can fit up there for fun and you’re probably ending up injured or with an infection to be honest..

Making you say weird stuff,, I can see too but it would probably be realll fucked up with him. He knows exactly how to make you uncomfortable and what gets you flustered and hes forcing you to repeat the nastiest things he can think of just to watch your face flush in red, stumbling with your words.

I think he’d really enjoy wax play too and he had plenty of candles. Idk if this is true because I wasn’t paying attention to it but I’ve seen people say the gun Lee has at the end of the movie isn’t hers, and was probably dales. Gun play…. With Dale… cold metal being slowly dragged across your skin. Loaded pressed to your temple safety off. Fucking you with the barrel, finger on the trigger, better sit still for him.

Size difference for sure, which is great for him because hes huge. The one shot of him and Lee from the side in the interrogation room where hes slouching and his legs are bent but hes still SO much larger than her? I need him to lay on top of me and suffocate me.

I think he’d enjoy making his partner cry (only during anything sexual) just watching you squirm and beg incoherently with tears running down your face, listening to your voice crack.

Marking up for sure, especially if afterwards he can make up an excuse to drag you out in public and show it off. In most longlegs fanfics it takes place in a small middle of nowhere town, he’d love risking your friends and family having to see you not only with him but covered in a painting of bruises and indents. No shame no restraint no respect for others comfort or social norms. He’s being awful in public, and with most of the fandom from what I’ve seen being like early 20s-30s the age gap would be VERY visible.

One sweeter thing I think he’d especially enjoy, have you in top for specific reasons. He’d be used to the treatment he gets from most people by now and have a hard time believing you actually want him, he needs a lot of reassurance. Esp if you initiate things, having you on top would have him in tears. Facing him, nails digging into his clothes, hot breath on his neck, repeatedly making the effort to bring him closer to you. Every sweet second you spend moving on top of him is just more confirmation to him that you want and need him.

Non-sexual but, I think he’d really like to do things for you as well. Having you need him, reaching things off a shelf, opening containers, lifting something heavy.

Bdsm, bondage, whips, paddles, restraints, all of it anything you ask hes okay with trying. If you’re really vanilla, good luck I don’t see him being able to adhere to that. If you reciprocate his feelings it will take very little time for him to feel serious about your relationship and he looks at you almost like his property, though that extends both ways. He’s just assuming you’re okay with whatever he wants, because he’d do the same for you. I think at first he’d ask if you’re okay with it before trying something but eventually he just does what he wants and waits for your reaction.

#dale kobble #longlegs #longlegs movie #dale kobble x reader

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moderator-monnie · 5 months

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Artwork Made by @sonicexelle-junkary / @weirdozjunkary as a commission.

Sonic the hedgehog has been dead over over 200 years, however decedents of his friends still exist and live out their normal lives.

Including the descendent of his little buddy Miles 'Tails' Prower named Techie Kaboom, a bat eared fox who has had a few accidents in his mechanic shop.

Sonic might be long gone, but his face, his story, and his image still exists in the far off future and often is used to advertise products in stores using holograms.

And one day, one of these holograms becomes sentient and for some reason think's it's the real Sonic, the one true Sonic and rewrites it's own code to give itself freedom.

But it can't move on it's own, no he can't and as luck would have it Techie was passing by the store this hologram found himself at, and with a silver tongue was able to convince Techie he was the real Sonic and he needed help.

Techie of course due to his ancestor loved Sonic, hearing nothing but good things about him throughout the generations decided to trust in him, he was his hero after all and Sonic wouldn't hurt him right?

Techie sneakfully took the holograms admitter and stuck it into his backpack, and the two managed to get out of the mall without much of a fuss and all seemed great at first Techie and Hologram as he nicknamed himself would talk and work together.

But this was all a ruse careful planning and manipulation done by the holographic hedgehog and one day an 'accident' happened in the mechanics building one that required Techie to get a heart transplant.

And once the surgery was complete and the pair was alone again, Hologram would admit his true colors in his own word's he would tell him his thoughts.

"I am the real Sonic, I can feel it, you can feel it... BUT your not Tails, your not my little buddy in the slightest however you can be! And thanks to your new heart I can help teach you."

"You see... I hate what has been done to my image, look at what they've done to me, they are treating a hero and his friends like cheap things to advertise their stores, and I won't stand for it anymore."

"We're gonna make them pay and hey 'pal' if you want us to bring a new legacy to the names of Sonic and Tails... You'll do as your told, unless you want to suffer the consequences."

Hologram had full control over Techie's eye, his arm and now his new heart he could kill the fox anytime he wanted now, and he would provide an example of that by shutting of Techies heart for about 10 seconds before restarting it.

And out of mostly fear but also a weird sense of loyalty to Sonic and the image of him he had always known about, Techie agrees to help him, Sonic wouldn't hurt him unless it was absolutely necessary right? So if He got hurt it would be because he messed up, at least thats what Techie had going thru his head.

Sonic was a hero, and if he did something it was for the greater good, this was Sonic it had to be, and he'd do what it takes to make him and his ancestor proud of him.

This is an Au about this story, as Techie Kaboom and Hologram Sonic bringing destruction in their wake, but not all familiar faces are gone, Silver The Hedgehog is around and protects his future from the threat of the pair.

But will Silver be able to protect the future? or will it all be brought down by one Hologram and his 'best buddy' only time will tell in the Hologram.Bin Au.

This au has technically existed since march of last year, but I'm glad to be able to finally share it all with you, and eventually write stories for it and show you what is in store for our antagonists and protagonist.

#Sonic The Hedgehog #Sonic AU #Sonic The Hedgehog AU #Sonic.Exe #Sonic.Exe AU #Sonic.Exe oc #Hologram Sonic #Hologram.Bin AU #Techie Kaboom #Silver The Hedgehog #Introduction post #Commissions #Weirdozjunkary #Sonicexelle-junkary #reblogs are appreciated #new au!#I'm very excited!

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copperbadge · 4 months

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Howdy! I am considering submitting manuscripts I've written to a publisher or possibly self publishing. The publisher states on their website that authors must maintain an active social media presence. I'm not normally a social media type, Tumblr is my only one. What would you reccommend for such? Is it worth it to pay someone to make a website for me? Thanks and many virtual kisses for Dot and Deebs!

Honestly, I haven't submitted to a publisher since before a lot of modern social media existed. :D

It is my understanding, but this is secondhand information, that publishers want you to have either a twitter or a tiktok, preferably both, where you're frequently active and have a high follower count, because they want you to be able to publicize your book on it. One of many reasons I don't even consider trad publishing anymore is that I don't want to spend a significant chunk of my time filming videos for the sole purpose of hawking my books.

Now, as I said, that's an inference I've drawn; you may want to speak to someone who has been trad published recently to get the inside scoop (readers if you work in publishing or have been published recently, feel free to add commentary; remember to comment or reblogs, as I don't repost asks sent in response to other asks). I do have an author website but I built my own; I don't know what the going rate is for paying someone to build one these days but most website platforms are pretty intuitive to use -- I built mine on Wordpress and I'm building a new one on Wix currently, and at this point both are very drag-and-drop oriented. I do think a website is a good thing for an author to have, but I wouldn't pay someone to build one for you until you've taken a swing at DIY and decided it's not where you want to spend your time and energy.

In terms of self-publishing, the good news is that none of the rules apply; this is also the bad news. :D Because the thing about selfpub is that you either pay or DIY for...everything. It can be very inexpensive; when I publish a book the only direct monetary cost is what I pay for an ISBN and a proof copy of the book, which I will make back in the first 10 sales or so. However, I am "paying" in man hours in terms of typesetting, cover design, uploading the PDFs to lulu.com, proofing the initial copy, correcting the proof and reuploading (which usually involves further typesetting), and of course all the publicity -- website design and redesign, copywriting, tumblr posting. And while my profit per copy sold is well above what most authors with traditional publishers will make, that's because the publisher is doing a lot of the work for you. And, because I don't have an active twitter or tiktok or a publisher, my books are not very widely publicized. Undoubtedly I sell fewer copies than I would if I had a robust twitter following, but catch me touching that rancid wasteland without inch-thick gloves on.

So -- I think it's probably pretty important to understand that I have deliberately rejected trad publishing for good but not lucrative reasons, and I'm considered at best an iconoclast and more commonly a crank for having done so. If you can go the tradpub route, I would, but I also wouldn't put any money you're not prepared to write off as a loss into that pursuit. Definitely I would see if there's anyone in the industry you can reach out to who can answer these questions with a more thorough understanding of what publishers look for in an author and how to go about achieving that than I possess.

In any case, good luck! It's a journey regardless and I hope you enjoy your time on the path wherever you end up. And I'll give the cryptids a special cuddle for ya.

#auntyproton #publishing

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lily-fics-11 · 4 months

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Good Luck, Babe! Part 2 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

Good Luck, Babe! //Ellie Williams, TLOU//

Part 2 (Part 1 here)

(Inspired by Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan)

@dynsdiary made a post about Ellie x closet!reader Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan and I couldn’t go to sleep without writing it so this is not super well edited. Then @fictionalgap mentioned a happy ending to I had to write a part 2 lol

Word count: 2k

CW: Profanities, allusions to sex, internalized homophobia, drinking, minimal editing

With tears blurring your vision you watch Ellie leave. Her hands are in her pockets and she is walking with her usual swagger, but almost stomping, and at a quick pace. She should have done this a long time ago, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. It’s heartbreaking to see Ellie disappear into the night, but even more so knowing how hurt she is. You force yourself to watch her go, as a punishment for all that you’ve done. It’s the least you can do to try and repent for your sins.

The other bar patrons standing around don’t pay much attention after the yelling stops, but you still wish you could get the hell out of town and never return. For both your sake, and Ellie’s. Not that running away is what you really want. Ideally, Ellie would take you back, her arms out like an angel, which is what she would be if she ever forgives you. But Ellie has never been one to forgive or forget. You want to be Ellie’s girl, for everyone to see, but you are too late.

In trying not to blow up your life you’ve set fire to the one thing that actually made it worth living. Yes, you still have your friends and family, but Ellie falls into both of those categories. She knows you better than anyone, because no one has ever made you feel as comfortable as she does. Ellie makes you laugh harder than anyone else, wipes away your tears, and gives you everything she has. Though you give her the same, you've always done so behind closed doors. Ellie doesn’t always know what to say, but that has never stopped her from trying. Even if she has to resort to using puns as a distraction from whatever you are feeling.

That argument sobered you up quite a bit. You would shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling, but Ellie was right, it’s only a temporary solution.

Going home immediately would be ideal. However, Ellie’s house is on your way and she is already angry enough. Having to see you would probably just piss her off more. That girl has been through more than enough. Even if she had time to cool off, the sight of you would only be a bitter reminder of everything that’s gone down. Leaving in 10 minutes will give her more than enough time to get home before you even start walking and prevent any unnecessary interaction.

You felt nothing when you kissed guys. The kisses you’ve shared with girls had sparks. But kissing Ellie ignited the brightest, most colorful, fireworks.

Ellie is the only person you have ever loved, but you’ve had quite a few crushes on girls over the years, and even a few flings, despite having convinced yourself you just really wanted to be their friend or were just messing around. They were all special in their own way, but would never compare to Ellie.

As you sit and wait you decide it’s time to make a confession. You owe it to yourself, and to Ellie.

“I’m gay,” you whisper out loud. Then you whisper it a few more times before you can finally say “I’m gay” at a regular volume. You would yell it at yourself if it weren’t for the other people hanging around, you’ll have to do it when you get home. What’s the point of exposing yourself when the only reason to is gone?

Thinking about the future Ellie had described forces you to ask yourself what do you really want in life when it comes to love? You’ve been pushing who you are down so hard that you haven’t ever been able to think about it before. You would never allow yourself to even dream, because it made you feel sick to your stomach.

Finally allowing the thoughts to flood in, there is much less to unpack than anticipated. There really is only one thought. Ellie Williams.

You could’ve had everything, but you were too immature, too insecure, to take what was being offered to you. The only way you could forgive yourself would be if Ellie did so first, which she is not known to do. Not that you even have a right to her forgiveness, after everything you put her through. So however many years you live, is how long you will be hating yourself.

Sure, there are other girls out there, but none of them even quite like Ellie. You may be young, but she is without a doubt the love of your life. Or she was, now she is nothing more than the loss of your life. Ellie will move on one day, and you will have to watch from afar, grateful that she has found the happiness she deserves, though it will kill you to watch that happiness come from someone else.

Ellie Williams is just about the only thing in your head and you know she won’t ever leave.

After ten minutes you walk home, feet shuffling, shoulders hunched, head hung low. When you turn onto Ellie’s street you cross to the other side, avoiding close proximity. Your heart rate increases exponentially the further you walk. You smell weed, Ellie must be out smoking on the front porch. You look straight ahead and veer into the darkness, out of the illumination cast by the street lights. Silence had been your goal, but in order to stay in the darkness you had to step through a bush… and it rustles. “Fuck” you whisper to yourself. Without a doubt, Ellie’s hypervigilance hears the sound.

“Who is that? Why are you skulking around in the dark?” Ellie’s voice calls across the street. You can tell she is suspicious and ready to start a fight.

“I-it’s me.” You step back into the light. “I figured you wouldn’t want to see me.” You panic and take off at a run. “Wait!” Ellie calls and you stop dead in your tracks. That was the last thing you expected. It would have made more sense if she had cursed you out. Slowly, you look over your shoulder to see her standing up, holding onto the railing and leaning over it ever so slightly.

“I want to talk to you,” she grumbles, crossing her arms, just loud enough for you to hear.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve just crossed through someone's backyard or something. I’ll do that from now on.”

Ellie shakes her head and takes a hit, then slowly exhales a cloud of smoke. “That’s not it.”

You turn around to face her. “I know where and when you hang around town. I promise I'll stay away.”

“Just come over here,” she say and motions with her hand. You can hear bitterness in her voice, but not the anger you expected.

You walk over and stand in front of Ellie as she sits down on the steps. She continues smoking as her knee starts to bounce. “I’ve decided to give you the chance to talk. But only one chance.”

You gulp, feeling the weight of the immense pressure.

“I know you won’t forgive me, and that I don’t even deserve it, but I still have to tell you how fucking sorry I am. I’ve made you, the unbreakable Ellie Williams, cry, and that’s not fair. You deserve someone who loves you for the world to see, without caring what they think. Even though I’m ready now, I know I'm too late. I'm a fucking fool. I wanted to stop the world just to stop the feeling, so I had to stop you, because you are my world. I should have called it love so that you didn’t have to call it off.”

Ellie’s eyes are wide as she bites her lip. She pats the spot next to her for you to sit down. You sit as far away from her as you can and avoid looking directly at her, only able to see her in your peripheral vision.

Legs spread casually, and elbows resting on her knees, Ellie starts her explanation of her uncharacteristic behavior. “Normally I would cut off anyone who hurt me this badly. But on the walk home, I remembered that you aren’t just anyone.” Her audible disdain is all but gone, replaced by a sense of yearning.

You can finally take your first deep breath since before the argument. “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, I know this can’t be easy for you. I really appreciate it.”

She just nods as she takes a drag. “You’ve been thinking too, haven’t you, about everything I've said.”

She has managed to make you laugh a little, the way only she can, something you thought you would never experience again. “You know me so well, don’t you. But yes, and you were right. I could kiss a hundred boys in bars, I could even kiss a thousand girls in bars…” you trail off.

“Well kissing girls is kind of the whole point, guess. All though I was thinking about just one girl in particular…” Ellie sounds so disappointed.

You finally look over at her and meet her mesmerizing gaze. “I could kiss every girl on the planet, but not a single kiss would matter unless it was with you. When I wake up in the middle of the night, and think about you all those years ago, I want it to be because I’m watching you sleep in our bed in our house. I’d listen to you breathe, and smile at the way your nose twitches when you are dreaming. I’d be grateful that I’ve gotten to spend my life with you.”

Ellie’s breath hitches and she searches your eyes like a human lie detector. “Did you really mean it, when you called it… love?”

“Yes. I love you. I really really love you. I’m so in love with you that I was afraid of it. But I also love you enough to stop making excuses and coming up with stupid reasons.” You look out into the darkness and yell, not caring who hears, "I'm gay and I’m in love with Ellie Williams!”

“I love you too baby.” No tone is left in her voice aside from an air of wonder when Ellie laughs and puts her toned arm around you, pulling you against her warm body.

“You’re like an angel,” you whisper, lost in her beautiful eyes.

“If I’m from heaven I can’t imagine what you think hell looks like.”

“It’s full of men,” you sigh.

“Fair enough,” Ellie chuckles.

“So are we.. something?” You murmur.

Ellie places a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I don’t know how you haven’t gotten it through your pretty head, but I’m absolutely in love with you. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be my girlfriend and show you off.”

You reach out and stroke her freckled cheek. “Then show me off. Let’s go back to the bar. Show every guy I kissed that I’m your girl. I want everyone in town to know that I’m the Ellie Williams' girlfriend.

Ellie’s eyes light up and she bites back a smile. “If I’m the Ellie Williams than you are the most amazingly beautiful girl there ever was. It’s really the least you can do, let me emasculate every sorry bastard in town, they’ll be shitting themselves knowing the best girl we have is mine.”

You nod shyly. “Yeah. You deserve a girl that’s proud to be yours, and I am.”

Ellie kisses your temple before taking one last drag from her joint. The two of you walk together, her arm around your shoulders and yours around her waist.

“I’ve always wanted to dance with you, can we dance together?” You ask shyly.

“Of course baby,” she tells you with a dreamy look in her eyes before giving you a quick kiss.

The two of you are all giggles and smiles on the way back, though it doesn’t stop Ellie from teasing you and telling you owe her big time.

As a happy couple, you two approach the bar and no one outside even takes a second glance at you, too occupied by their cigarettes and drunken conversations. You walk through the door, ahead of Ellie, holding her hand as you push through the crowd. Any man that would normally pay attention to you does, but the only person who you take notice of is your guy friend that you had promised a date to. Oops, you’ll have to deal with that at some point but now is a time to celebrate.

You quickly look back at Ellie and smile after accidentally making eye contact with him. “I really want to punch that guy in the face.” She murmurs, glaring at him. Nonetheless, her rough exterior melts away when she looks back at you. Anyone who saw the way Ellie looks at you would think that you put every star in the night sky, just for her.

Taking a spot in the middle of the dance floor, you put your arms around Ellie’s neck and she grabs you by the waist to pull you close. The music isn’t the right tempo, but you start slow dancing like you are the only ones in the room. You lean in to give her a real kiss. No cheek, or forehead, or peck on the lips. You want to show her just how much you love her. Ellie’s soft lips move in sync with yours and you aren’t even thinking about all of the people around you. When you finally pull away Ellie says “Baby, I can’t believe you’re really mine.”

“Well, I am. You’re stuck with me. Good luck, babe!”

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