#and william just stares and goes “i did?????”
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So many people have reblogged this saying real and true and YET I see very little of transmasc mark .... Guys ... Do I need to start posting my dumbass trans hcs for this guy ...
TRANSGENDER MARK GRAYSON INVINCIBLE ??!?!?! woagh ...
#yeah CHAT#SPEAK YOUR MIND WHEN IT COMES TO HIS QUEERNESS#hes so trans bi it makes me sick#william forgot he was trans#thats why he calls him the most cishet guy he knows#and mark is like#“dawg...?? you. you knew me before i was a guy”#and william just stares and goes “i did?????”#and when mark has his first gay crush he was Terrified to say anything cus he thought his dad would be disappointed in him#even tho he accepted mark being trans without even thinking#i think its funny to think that mark got in his head on how “oh god my dads gonna disown me”#but he couldnt give a FUCK about it#“dad im trans/bi”#“ok but are you a viltrumite????”#god tumblr should've never given me tags bc i will just keep ranting its so fun
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James Potter x fem!reader
Summary: Finding out that your ex-best friend might have smelt you in the Amortentia feels as surreal as you smelling him.
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: harassment, non-consensual touching (non-sexual), insecurities
JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST
When you hear the door to the classroom swing open, slam into the wall, and as if on cue a chorus of laughs resound around the room, you know it's James and his imbecile friends.
Your lips thin into a tight-lipped smile as you send Marlene an exhausted look.
"Gentlemen," Slughorn drones on as he turns to look at the boys, who comedically trip over themselves to find their spots in the crowd of students, "You're late."
"Evidently, Professor." Sirius Black quips and nudges his shoulder into James. The latter smirks.
James has somehow found his way next to you. He hasn't done it on purpose but when he turns his head and sees you beside him, his smirk turns into a wide smile.
A smile that never fails to make your knees shake and your heart feel like it could explode.
"Y/n," James whispers.
"Hi Potter," you roll your eyes, hiding a smile behind faux frustration.
You and James aren't friends. Well, unless you counted the years from ages four to eleven, when you had been inseparable. You'd grown apart these last years and while you'd cried over your lost friendship in first year, you had decided it was for the best to distance yourself from him anyway.
Having a crush on your best friend is incredibly cliché.
Still, although you weren't friends in the same way as you had been, James has always been kind to you.
He says hello to you when he sees you in the hallway. You have had pleasant conversations in passing, and when his family occasionally has yours over – for old times sake – you both sit on the balcony outside his window and talk as if nothing has changed.
You shift away from James a little, feeling too close to him, and cross your arms. You turn your attention to Slughorn as he clears his throat and lifts the lid from the pot, "Very well then,"
His sentence is drowned out by the soft, delicate smell that fills the room. You pin-point the scent of broom-polish immediately. Rosemary, vanilla, bergamot and cedar. Your expression falls. Bergamot and cedar. Your head spins and you wonder if James put on too much cologne this morning or if —
Your mind suddenly goes completely blank when you feel James's breath against your ear, uttering exactly what you had been wondering, but this time about you, "Hey, did you put on more perfume than usual? I can smell it from here," his voice is teasing and you feel just a little fainter than you already had been.
"Amortentia," Slughorn interrupts, "The most powerful love potion to exist. It smells differently to everyone, depending on what attracts them — or sometimes who attracts them," He continues on, explaining the dangers of the potion, but you aren't listening anymore.
You look up. James has gone quiet and he's staring at the bubbling liquid, a vacant look in his eyes. Your heart clenches and you turn your head, inclining it down. You must have heard him wrong. James must have been confused.
A pit forms in your stomach when James moves away from you, leaving your side feeling empty. You hear him laugh with Remus and your hand squeezes around your arms.
You hadn't worn any perfume this morning.
"Hey, Y/n/n," You're pulled from your thoughts when William, another Gryffindor, comes up from behind you and shoves into your shoulder so he's standing next to you.
"I knew I'd smell someone as hot as you in there," He teases, leaning in close. "Just like fucking vanilla," Williams brings his hand into your hair, twirling some strands in his fingers as he presses his nose close to your temple and inhales.
"Hey," You move your head away, feeling disgusted. William just barks out a laugh and his arm extends to grab yours. Suddenly, you're almost pushed to the side when James stands in front of you and shoves William away. The boy bumps into the cauldron and the Amortentia spills all over the floor.
"All three of you," Slughorn suddenly booms, his cheeks flushed crimson, "McGonagall. Now."
So you find yourself standing in the middle of James and William in McGonagall's office. The older woman is sitting at her desk, her arms crossed as she stares at you all from behind her small glasses. She looks at William first considering his shirt is drenched in the thick liquid from the Amortentia, "What happened?"
"Potter shoved me," Williams states quickly, glaring at James.
"And I'd do it again," James snarls, crossing his arms.
McGonagall looks utterly exhausted at their bickering and turns her attention to you. "What about you, Miss Y/l/n, care to explain what happened?"
William sends you a dark look, but when you look at James his expression is soft. "William made me uncomfortable in class and when James saw, he accidentally shoved him into the Amortentia and it spilled all over."
"It wasn't an accident! He did it on purpose!" William argues like a child and James sends him a knowing smirk.
"Oh yeah, the shove was intentional," he grins wolfishly, "Although, I didn't mean to knock the potion over, Minnie," James looks over at McGonagall and this time he looks a little sheepish. McGonagall just stares at him as if he has gone insane and then she looks at you.
"You can leave, Miss Y/l/n," she says and looks back at the boys and hums, "You two may not."
You glance at James a little nervously but he sends you a reassuring smile. So, you ignore William's loud complaining and thank McGonagall as you walk out of her classroom.
* * *
A few hours later, when you're walking out of the Great Hall after dinner, you and your friends run into James again. He's also with his friends, leaning against the wall, and they're laughing obnoxiously loud.
However, when James sees you his smile widens. "Ladies," he says, crossing his arms cheekily.
"Gentlemen," your lips curl into a smirk as you nod at Sirius, Remus, and Peter. James tilts his head at his friends, his expression quirking almost as if he's annoyed that you mentioned them and not him.
"You feeling okay?" James asks.
You stare at him, trying to understand exactly what he means.
Does he really care or is he only asking because he's in trouble because of you. Is it mocking?
You start to overthink and James can sense it. So, he moves a little closer to you and you can smell his cologne. It sends heat creeping up your neck.
He asks again. "After what happened with William," he whispers, "when he made you uncomfortable. Are you okay?" James looks genuine and you see his hand hesitating to touch your arm.
You look up at him, staring into his eyes, "O-Oh, yeah. I'm fine. I was just - I didn't think anyone would have smelt me in that potion," you laugh, rambling because that's what you do when you're nervous. You can see James's expression shift into a small smile.
"You'd be surprised," he says, rubbing his nape, "Hey, can we talk in private? I wanted to ask you something?"
Once you say yes, you find yourself in a small, empty, classroom with James. You lean against a desk, hand gripping the edge as you stare at him. "What's up?" you ask. James has never asked you to talk like this.
"My mum is having one of her family dinners for Christmas," James starts, "I wanted to invite you, personally," he adds, as if he's been rehearsing.
Usually, his mother will invite yours and then by proxy you'll show up. But, this is different. "You want me to come?" your eyebrow raises in confusion, "Personally?"
"Yeah," he sounds unsure, "I mean we're friends, right?"
Is that what we are, you want to ask him but you don't. "I didn't think we were friends anymore," You say honestly and James's expression falls.
He fiddles with his hands nervously but walks closer until he's directly in front of you. You lean away from him and into the desk, chin tilted up to look at him.
"I'm an idiot," he whispers, looking at you intensely, "I shouldn't have let you slip out of my hands like that. I, well, miss you, a lot."
You listen to him with harsh breaths, trying to understand where this all comes from and why now.
James's hand reaches out and hovers over your cheeks until he holds you and brings you closer to his face. Your eyes round. You're so sure he'll kiss you with how close you are and by the way he's looking at you. You don't have time to make up your mind if you'd want to kiss him or not, because instead, he guides your cheek to his chest and his arms wrap around you.
He crushes you into a hug.
Your breath escapes you in a sigh, "James?"
"Y/n," he says your name smoothly and soothes a hand down your hair, "You smell like vanilla and cinnamon. With just a hint of freshly-mowed grass, probably because whenever I see you after a Quidditch match you always have some grass in your hair, right here," James says in a whisper and his finger traces behind your ear.
"Usually from a small tumble," he adds, "You're so clumsy sometimes."
You pull away only to have him hold you closer.
"I can't keep pretending I don't think about you," he admits and that sends all emotions crashing over you. You stare at him, lips parted and eyebrows creased, as you try and understand the meaning behind the words. "I smelt you in the Amortentia," James admits.
"You smelt me? You're joking."
James suddenly frowns and he watches as you practically try and sink into the desk behind you. He can take a hint and he moves away. "What? No?"
You feel your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. "You aren't joking?"
James's face softens and he smiles. "Of course I'm not – I smelt you and also your perfume which," his smile turns into a smirk, "I can tell you aren't wearing right now." James chuckles happily, his eyes crinkling in the corners and your heart flutters. "Merlin I gave myself away in that classroom, didn't I, love?"
Your insides become mush at the nickname and you find yourself nodding.
James looks at you fondly even when he says, "I understand if you don't feel the same. If I'm not the boy you like or a boy you want. I have been a foolish ass for the majority of our time here at school. I've ignored you and worse than that, I let myself forget how lucky I was to have you as my friend and I'm so sorry."
As you hear his words, you can feel tears brim in your eyes. James's fond smile disappears and he starts to panic. "Hey, hey, hey!" his hands cup around your cheeks without even thinking. "I don't want to make you cry, love. Y-you're okay," he promises frantically.
James is so close. His cologne has invaded your senses until you can't think clearly. All you can do is lean in closer until your nose brushes his. James is surprised but when he looks into your eyes, his body relaxes as he understands what you want. You like to think it's all the years you were friends that makes it so easy for James to understand.
"You want me to kiss you?" he whispers, his voice husky and low.
You feel warm all over as his arm slides behind you and he holds your lower back, waiting for a yes so he can pull you closer. You nod, smiling. You wonder if I have to tell him he's the one you smelled in the potion or if he'll understand by the way you kiss him.
James's lips press onto yours. He's testing the waters, making sure he's not moving too quickly or too slowly. You let your hand find his hair as you pull him closer. James's hand wraps around you and in the passion, he hoists you up onto the desk behind you and you pull him in.
You kiss him like you've never kissed anyone and it takes your hand on his chest to snap James back into reality. He gently disconnects your lips and leans his forehead on yours.
His eyes are still closed when he says, "Shh, we have all the time in the world. I don't plan on letting you slip away from me again, Y/n," he says it like a promise. Like a prayer.
Finally, you speak, "James. I missed you," you admit in a whisper.
James holds you closer. "I missed you more. You don't know how much you mean to me."
You laugh, feeling how close he is and how badly he doesn't want to drop your hand. "I think I can guess," you say teasingly.
James shakes his head. "My love goes beyond any words I could possibly muster."
You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. "Since when is James Potter such a hopeless romantic?"
James grins, his hand sliding down to your thigh as he draws soothing circles on your skin, "He's always been a romantic, darling. He just hasn't had the chance to show you," he whispers and quickly kisses the tip of your nose.
"Well, he can start now," you smile.
James nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. "So, does this mean that we're friends again?"
You pull away and send him a playful look. "Can this mean we're more than friends now?"
James looks into your eyes and deep in his brown ones, you can see his sincerity, "We'll be whatever you want, love," he says. He hugs you close and your face is buried in his neck. You sniff, your smile widening.
You whisper into his neck, "Bergamot and cedar."
James chuckles, still holding you, "What was that, love?"
"Nothing," you smile, simply content with holding him.
#james potter x reader#james potter#marauders#marauders fic#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter fluff#james potter smut#james potter x you#marauders imagine#james potter blurb#james potter imagines#james potter imagine#james potter fic#marauder james potter#maraduers harry potter#mauraders#marauders imagines#hp marauders#hp fanfic#harry potter fanfiction#marauders fanfiction#hp#hp fandom
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gimme a lift
ellie williams x sub reader
warnings: public sex, fingering r! receiving, squirting.
you watched the pretty sights of the ocean below you from your window seat. engulfed in the dramatic blue hues as you felt Ellie lay her head on your shoulder and tilt her face up to place kisses along your jaw, making you hum at the tickle of her eyelashes on your skin as she pushed her face deeper into the side of your neck “hm what’s up baby?”
instead of answering. her shy self simply continues pressing the plush of her lips against the sensitive spot on your neck. she sucked softly and ran her tongue across the bruised skin. her fingertips making goosebumps appear as they trailed your flesh, up your inner thigh, towards the pair of panties you wore and lightly bumped your clit as you squeezed your eyes shut, suppressing a whimper and hiding your face in your headrest while she shamelessly licks away at you, her spit making a mess as she licks it up, groaning against your skin.
she goes to flip your skirt and dip her fingers into your waistband but you grip her wrist, your eyes pleading for her not to make you feel like this on a plane in front of hundreds of pairs of eyes as you whisper “we’re going to get caught” her eyes twinkle, almost like she enjoyed the idea of being caught with her fingers drenched as they pushed in and out of your cunt “you just gotta be quiet princess” she shrugs as she grips your thigh assuringly, making your clit beat as you bite your lip in thought and guide her hand between your legs, shooting a nod at her with a shy smile on your face.
she rests her head back on your shoulder and closes her eyes with you. to everyone else it looked like you both were sleeping. it looked almost impossible to tell that you were pulling your underwear aside as her finger slipped against the slick that glistened against your pussy as you spread your legs further. she whispers a “fuck” under her breath as yours hitches when she presses your clit softly, teasing it then massaging it in little circles as you squirmed in your seat, resisting the urge to hook your arm under you thigh and hike your leg up to make more room for the fingertip that pressed against your entrance, threatening to go deeper as it pushed only slightly inside you, making a groan slip from your throat before she pulled out and teased your huddle of nerves again.
you felt so embarrassed at the fact she had you literally wrapped around your finger, completely willing to do anything for her as you felt her finally slip her slick coated finger inside you, giving you a stare that was playful yet stern. daring you to get you both caught.
you tried to distract yourself. you tried to take in the sights of the clouds and the blues that surrounded them but you just couldn’t ignore the feel of her pressing against your g spot as your back arched in the seat and your palms pressed to the back of the chair in front of you, your eyes squeezed shut and your lips parting with almost silent breathless pants.
“ellie” she ignores your whisper of warning. she was preoccupied with the feel of you closing around her fingers, the feel of her pussy beating in her underwear and eventually the feeling of your fingernails sinking into her tattooed forearm, both of your hands squeezing onto her for dear life as your body curled in on itself. your feet left the ground as your legs crossed, wanting to keep her there forever.
“ellie!” you whisper shout in warning as your cunt clamps around her “i know” she says, zoned out at the sound of your breaths raising in pitch.
you knew how loud you got when you came and so did ellie, she knew how much you didn’t want to get caught but she also knew how much you wanted to cum when her other hand gripped your thigh as she did a quick check around her before she pulled your legs apart and dipped her head, giving a teasing kiss directly onto your clit with her fingers still inside you.
your hips stuttered as you gripped the back of her head, pulling her away from you.
your eyes teared up as you felt your orgasm creep closer even though you fought it. your eyes meeting ellies as you pleaded “i- i cant” a warning of no matter how much you fought it you couldn’t stop yourself.
she dips her head again, not minding the harsh pull you gave her auburn locks as she swiped her tongue across your clit and hummed into you before coming back up to your face, her hand covering your mouth as she almost kissed your ear, going so close, her words only for you as she spoke softly “then don’t.”
and just like that your eyes rolled back and your head followed suit, landing against the headdress as your eyes clamped shut and you whimpered against her palm. ellie faking a cough to cover the muffled pornographic sounds that hit her palm as she pulled her fingers from inside you. she gave your pussy a light pat as a ‘well done’ before rearranging your skirt.
ellie lowered her drool covered palm from your lips while you can’t help but make doe eyes at her, greatfull for her touch as your high continued to course through you.
she pecked at your cheek “you done so good for me princess” she cooed as you dozed off against her shoulder, missing the look that the old couple in the row beside you tossed in your direction. ellie simply rolled her eyes at them and sucked the taste of you off her fingers as she sighed to herself contently.
@cattjull @quinnister @lmaoo-spiderman @radioheadfan699 @aouiaa @infiniteinquiries @pascals-doll @moonalumi @yourelliewillms @williamellieslilho
#ellie williams#lesbian#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie x reader#ellie x y/n#ellie x black!reader#ellie x you#ellie williams x#ellie williams x sub reader#ellie williams x fem reader#ellie williams x you
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the missing melody ♪
pairing : franco colapinto x singer!reader
faceclaim : various people!
summary : after several months of silence, Y/N L/N, a renowned singer, unexpectedly surfaces at a Formula 1 Grand Prix, leaving everyone wondering about her disappearance. Her arrival catches the eye of a talented rookie driver, intrigued by her in many ways then one.
part 1 out of unknown parts
warnings : some singers do not exist in this au since i might take their songs! read my note before reading!
note : first smau! Let me know in the comments for feedback! I actually had inspiration for this one. i don't think this is too long or too short, so expect the next parts to be the same length! this will be at the cota race in austin in october but with the the baku results because thats when they both got points (the william drivers). i
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
F1GOSSIP just posted
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F1GOSSIP after several months of speculation and silence, y/n l/n resurfaced this weekend at a grand prix, and fans are buzzing! our sources say that y/n has always been a f1 fan but has never actually been to a grand prix! why now? did she get bored doing what she was doing? why was she gone for so long?
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username1 WHATTT?!?
username2 wait? MY QUEEN?!?
username3 where? i’m here also!! where is she?!?
username4 she’s still so pretty 😍
username5 NO WAY YOURE LYING?!!?
username6 no one understands how bad i missed y/n!!!
username7 i almost had a heart attack oh my FUCK
username8 i’m totally not freaking out rn 😊😊
username9 i used to pray for times like this 🙏🙏🙏🙏
username10 DOES THIS MEAN MORE MUSIC? PLEASE ITS BEEN MONTHS IM STARVING!
yourusername added to their story
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username1 we missed you y/n!
f1 hi y/n! we’d love to have you come down and join us in the paddock! let us know if you’re interested!
y/n’s pov
I stare at the text message from the F1 account on Instagram, my thumb hovering over the screen. It’s been months—months of quiet, isolation, and letting the world forget me while I tried to remember myself. I glance around the room, so used to its stillness. The familiar hush, once comforting, now feels almost suffocating. Outside the window, life goes on, people go on, and I’m here, still debating whether I’m ready to step back into it.
My eyes drift over the message again. Maybe it’s time. Time to hear the noise, to feel the movement, to breathe in more than just silence. I sigh, gathering the courage I didn’t realize I still had in me. With a deep breath, I pick up my phone and click on the message. It’s time to be out there again.
messages
I turn off my phone and place it face down on the table, the screen going black as if signaling the shift I’m about to make. My eyes wander out the window, where the grandstands loom in the distance, already buzzing with life and anticipation. A knot of nerves twists in my stomach as I realize what stepping back into the limelight really means. After months of silence, the thought of all those eyes on me again makes my breath catch in my throat.
I close my eyes for a moment, taking in a few deep breaths, willing myself to calm down. The air feels cool and crisp against my skin, a slight contrast to the rising anxiety inside me. Reaching for the complimentary bottle of sparkling water on the table, I unscrew the cap, the soft hiss breaking the quiet. I take a sip, hoping the bubbles will settle me.
Just as I set the bottle back down, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye—someone walking toward my table. My heart skips a beat, but before I can gather my thoughts to say something, they speak first, breaking the moment.
“You must be Y/N! Hi, I’m Diana (not relevant to anyone irl), here to guide you down and give you the paddock tour!” Her smile radiates warmth, as if it spreads from her lips all the way down to her toes, instantly putting me at ease.
I return the smile, though mine is softer, still testing the waters. “Yes, that’s me.” My voice feels steady, which is a small relief.
I stand up from my seat, taking a moment to smooth down my outfit. Carefully, I push the chair back into place, making sure every movement is deliberate, giving myself just a little more time to adjust. I reach for my phone, sliding it into my back pocket, the familiar weight grounding me. Then I pick up my purse, feeling its soft leather strap slide over my shoulder as I take a deep breath.
“Ready?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
I nod, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves swirl inside me as I let her lead the way, stepping back into a world I’ve been away from for so long.
As we make our way through the winding hallways of the paddock, the hum of activity grows louder with each step. My heart beats in time with the click of my heels on the hard floor, and I can feel the familiar rush of anticipation building as we head down the stairs toward the grid. With each step, I mentally brace myself for the crowd—the faces, the voices, the attention. It’s been so long since I’ve been in the thick of it all, and I silently rehearse how to hold myself together.
Just as my nerves start to rise, Diana slows her pace and falls into step beside me. Her presence is steady, comforting. “If you ever want to head back up during your time down here, just let me know,” she says gently, her voice low enough that it feels like she’s speaking just to me, despite the noise around us. “The team let me know you might be feeling a bit nervous with how sudden all this is.”
Her words catch me off guard, and my heart skips a beat, warmth spreading through me. The thought that the team has gone out of their way to make sure I’m okay—that they’re taking precautions for me—feels incredibly thoughtful, almost protective. It’s more than I expected.
I can’t help but grin, the tension in my chest loosening just a bit. “That’s really sweet, thank you,” I say, my voice light with gratitude. Knowing they’ve got my back makes everything feel a little less daunting.
I smile as I hear the start of one of my songs, love story , start playing (by taylor swift) in the background. As I start to hum, my phone dings.
I took my phone out of my back pocket and looked to see a message from Williams Racing on instagram.
messages
I slip my phone back into my pocket, feeling its familiar weight settle against my hip. Turning my attention to Diana, I notice she’s mid-conversation, her voice lilting as she discusses the unusually warm weather for this time of year. The sun beats down, making the air almost sticky, and I can feel a light sheen of sweat beginning to form at the back of my neck. I clear my throat with a small cough to get her attention before speaking.
“I’ll be alright now,” I say, my voice sounding steadier than I feel. “I got invited to the Williams garage.”
Her eyebrows lift in mild surprise, and she tilts her head with a curious smile. “Oh? That’s nice. I can walk you there if you’d like,” she offers, a hint of genuine warmth in her tone as she falls into step beside me.
I nod gratefully, returning her smile. “Thanks, I’d appreciate it.”
As we make our way through the crowded paddock, the buzz of activity surrounds us. The hum of engines revving in the distance, the faint scent of burning rubber, and the excited chatter of fans create a sensory tapestry that is unmistakably Formula 1. The Williams garage is up ahead, its blue and white banners standing out among the sea of team colors.
Just as we draw closer, I spot a familiar figure—Mr. Vowles, the team principal, standing by the entrance, his hands clasped behind his back as he speaks with a group of engineers. There’s a calm authority in his posture, even as the hustle of the race weekend unfolds around him.
My pulse quickens as we draw even closer to the Williams garage. The flurry of activity around us feels almost suffocating, and I can’t help but notice the curious glances from passersby. It’s my first public appearance after months of being away, and the weight of those unsaid questions hangs heavy in the air.
As we approach the entrance, Mr. Vowles looks up from his conversation, sensing our presence. His expression shifts from concentration to a welcoming grin, the lines around his eyes crinkling with warmth. “There you are,” he says, his voice carrying a tone of easy familiarity. “Hello, Y/N! I’m James Vowles, but please, just call me James.”
He extends a hand, his demeanor friendly and inviting despite the bustling surroundings. There’s a hint of recognition in his gaze—like he’s aware of who I am, or maybe just curious about the singer who suddenly vanished from the limelight.
I hum softly, finding my voice as I step forward to shake his hand. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, James.” I offer a small smile, hoping it comes across as more confident than I feel. “Thank you for offering up your garage for me. I appreciate the hospitality.”
His grin widens, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—respect, perhaps, or a subtle acknowledgment of the unspoken stories that linger between us. “Our pleasure. It’s not every day we have a special guest with such a storied background. You’re more than welcome here.”
Diana hums thoughtfully and glances at James, a playful glint in her eye. “I leave her in your care,” she says with a smile, her tone light but sincere. She then turns to me, her expression softening. “It was nice to meet you, Y/N. Until next time,” she adds, giving me a small wave before turning on her heel and walking off, her figure soon blending into the sea of people.
I’m left standing at the entrance of the garage, the faint sounds of machinery and chatter surrounding me as I take in the unfamiliar scene. There’s a moment of hesitation, the feeling of being out of place creeping in despite the warm welcome.
“So… what now?” I say, glancing up at James with a faint chuckle to mask my uncertainty. “I’ve never been to one of these before. No idea what I’m supposed to do.”
James chuckles at my honesty, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Well, I’m sure Diana gave you a good tour around the paddock and the grid,” he says, crossing his arms casually. “But how about meeting the drivers? I’m sure Alex and Franco can spare a few minutes to say hello.”
There’s a friendly enthusiasm in his voice, as if he’s eager to make me feel at home in this high-octane world. The idea of meeting the drivers piques my curiosity, and a hint of nervous excitement stirs within me.
I perk up at the suggestion, though the flutter of nervousness in my chest is hard to ignore. Meeting the drivers feels like venturing into unfamiliar territory—a glimpse behind the curtain that I’m not entirely sure I’m prepared for. I’ve spent so long away from the public eye that even casual encounters seem daunting, like I’m out of practice.
“That sounds great,” I reply, managing a genuine smile despite the unease tightening in my chest. “I’d love to meet them.” My voice wavers just a little, betraying the anxious energy simmering beneath the surface. “I’ve seen Alex race on TV before, but I’ve never actually met a driver… or been this close to the action.” I laugh softly, hoping it comes off as lighthearted rather than strained.
“Lead the way?” I add, glancing at James with a mix of eagerness and uncertainty, my hands fidgeting at my sides. There’s excitement, yes, but also the familiar weight of anxiety, making me wonder if I’ll manage to fit into this world—or if I’ll just feel out of place all over again.
f1 just posted!
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f1 a little birdie told us y/n is in the williams hospitality! it looks like williams was the only team to invite y/n inside or the only team she was interested in? #F1
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username11 i doubt williams was the only team to invite her!
username7 why’re you making it sound like the other teams dislike her? 😭
username2 i still can’t believe y/n is outside 😧
williamsracing the little birdie is correct! she’s safe and sound with us! 💙
↳username11 does this mean she’s meeting the boys???
↳williamsracing she’s about too!
username3 but what does this mean musically? is she back? #imdelusional
third pov
James had sent a message to the drivers’ group chat well before inviting Y/N to the garage, giving them a heads-up to expect a couple of guests later in the day. In the text, he made it clear that they should stay put in Franco’s room and be on the lookout for their arrival. With James’s usual eye for organization, he had made sure to emphasize the importance of keeping things discreet, hoping to avoid any unnecessary chaos in the busy environment.
Inside Franco’s room, the air buzzed lightly with anticipation. Alex and Franco were seated on the worn leather couch, chatting casually about their upcoming schedules. The conversation meandered from the logistics of travel to plans for the off-season, each driver sharing his own ideas for how to make the most of the downtime. Their words overlapped occasionally, excitement rising as they discussed possible locations for training and leisure.
Suddenly, a sharp knock interrupted their conversation. Both men paused, glancing at each other before Franco rose from the couch, crossing the room to open the door.
Franco approached the door, turning the handle and pulling it open just enough to catch a glimpse of James standing on the other side. As recognition set in, he swung the door wider, making room for James to step through. A moment later, Y/N appeared behind him, her presence drawing immediate attention as she trailed closely after James.
James strode confidently into the room, his usual air of authority softened by a hint of excitement. “There’s someone I’d like for you two to meet,” he announced, his tone carrying just a touch of mystery. With a subtle gesture, he stepped aside, allowing Y/N to take center stage, her figure framed in the doorway as the focal point of the room.
As Y/N stepped into the room, Alex’s eyes flicked over to her, and he stood up slowly. He knew of her—the whole world did—but seeing her in person, especially after her months away, was different. She held herself with a quiet determination, though there was still a hint of uncertainty in the way her gaze briefly dipped to the floor before rising again.
“Hi, I’m Alex,” he said, keeping his voice soft and extending a hand. He noticed only the slightest hesitation before she took it, her grip firmer than he’d expected.
“Nice to meet you,” Y/N replied, her voice steady. She met his gaze, her expression composed but carrying a guardedness that suggested she was still finding her footing. It wasn’t shyness, exactly, but a careful control—like she was reminding herself to be present in the moment.
“It’s good to see you here,” Alex offered with a gentle smile, his tone casual. “Hopefully, things are looking up.”
Y/N nodded, a small smile touching her lips. “Trying to,” she said, her voice a little stronger now. There was more left unsaid, but she seemed willing to let the silence speak for her rather than rushing to fill it.
As Alex stepped back, Franco took a step forward, his gaze irresistibly drawn to Y/N. The moment their eyes met, the world seemed to still, and time stretched in that small space between them. His breath hitched as he glimpsed something in her expression—more than just shyness. It was a quiet determination touched by a vulnerability that tugged at something deep inside him.
“Franco,” he introduced himself, his voice unexpectedly tender. There was a softness in his gaze, as though he could sense the silent courage it took for her to be there, facing the world anew.
“Y/N,” she replied, her voice steady, yet intimate, as if sharing a secret. She held his gaze for a heartbeat longer than necessary, then looked away—not out of hesitation, but as if deciding how much of herself to lay bare.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Franco murmured, the warmth in his tone matching the gentle curve of his smile. He kept a respectful distance, aware that while she exuded strength, there was still a part of her that seemed fragile, as though testing the waters.
“Likewise,” Y/N responded softly, her hands settling at her sides. She resisted the impulse to fidget, letting the moment linger between them. The silence that followed felt almost deliberate, as if it was allowing something unspoken to take root. Franco found himself drawn to the quiet resilience she radiated—a kind of beauty that seemed to unfold with every second he spent in her presence.
y/n’s pov
After a while of simple yet engaging conversation, I found myself feeling more at ease. I shared how I had always been a fan of racing, my voice growing steadier as I spoke. “There’s something thrilling about watching it unfold on screen,” I said, trying to convey my excitement.
Alex leaned in, intrigued. “That’s great to hear! It’s always nice to meet fans who really appreciate the sport.” His enthusiasm was infectious, and I couldn’t help but smile back at him.
Franco nodded, a smile on his face. “It definitely takes a lot of dedication to get here. Every race pushes us to prove ourselves.” His sincerity made me feel even more connected to their world.
As the conversation shifted to their plans for the day, Alex described the strategies for securing points in the race, his passion evident. “It’s all about timing and reading the situation,” he explained, and I listened intently, occasionally asking questions to show my genuine interest.
I relished this moment, enjoying the chance to connect with them. For a brief time, the weight of my absence from the limelight felt lighter, and I was just another fan in the room.
Just as they began to delve deeper into the day’s logistics, James cleared his throat, breaking the moment. “Time to head back to the paddock area,” he announced. “The pre-race interviews are about to start.”
I felt a twinge of disappointment at the thought of leaving this conversation behind, but I nodded. “Good luck out there. I’ll be cheering for you both,” I said sincerely, glancing at both drivers, though my gaze lingered on Franco a beat longer, as if the words were meant just for him.
As I followed James toward the door, I glanced back over my shoulder, catching Franco’s eye one last time. I offered him a small, lingering smile, hoping to hold onto the quiet connection we had just begun to form, even as we braced ourselves for the chaos of race day.
F1GOSSIP just posted!
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F1GOSSIP oh? Is this just franco being his charming self or is something brewing? this is after franco got asked how meeting y/n was. If you have the full clip, please send it in!
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username2 me when y/n announces new music #imdelusional
username9 no! y/n’s mineeee stay back 🤺🤺🤺
username1 my reaction when i see my leftovers still uneaten in the fridge
username3 let’s not get carried away chat
username8 they’d lowkey be cute ,no?
username4 here goes mr rizzler
username5 we think y/n giggling at this or not even knowing that he’s basically down bad?
As I gaze out the window of the paddock suite, my heart thrums with a mix of anticipation and anxiety, waiting for the drivers’ parade to conclude so the race can finally commence. The vibrant colors of the team uniforms blur together in a whirlwind of excitement outside, a stark contrast to the stillness within me.
I’ve spent so long in hiding—wrapped in the suffocating embrace of identity crises, exhaustion, and a profound sense of disconnection from everything I once held dear. The weight of fame had become unbearable, each flash of a camera a reminder of the lack of privacy I craved. I’d watched as my personal relationships—family, friends—slipped through my fingers, one by one, until I was left with only echoes of laughter in empty rooms.
For the past several months, my life felt like an endless loop of anxiety and depression, a tangled web of emotions that left me feeling isolated and unrecognizable even to myself. The music that once flowed so freely from my soul now felt like a distant memory, a faint whisper drowned out by the noise of my insecurities.
I close my eyes, massaging my temples gently as I let the world around me fade into a soft murmur. The noise of the paddock, the distant roar of engines, and the chatter of eager fans all blend into a soothing backdrop as I focus inward. I think long and hard about what I truly want to do, contemplating the next steps I need to take to reclaim my sense of self and direction.
Images flash through my mind—memories of laughter, music, and the vibrant life I once lived, alongside the shadows of doubt and uncertainty that have lingered for far too long. I sift through these feelings, weighing the burden of expectations against the freedom of possibility. It’s not just about what others want for me; it’s about what I want for myself.
I draw in a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs as I clear my mind of the noise. Slowly, I allow the weight of indecision to lift, replaced by a flicker of clarity. I envision the goals I’ve set aside and the dreams that still ignite a spark within me. With each thought, I feel a renewed sense of determination taking shape.
Finally, I open my eyes again, and the world around me comes back into focus, sharper and more vibrant than before. There’s a newfound sense of purpose coursing through my veins, a conviction that I can chart my own course and embrace the unknown. I sit up a little straighter, feeling invigorated by the possibilities that lie ahead, ready to take the next step with confidence and resolve. With all that said and done, I picked up my phone with an idea in mind.
yourusername just posted!
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yourusername I’ve tried in so many ways to come back, but I always took a U-turn, doubting myself and slipping deeper into a place I never thought I’d find myself in. The past several months have been a struggle—a relentless cycle of exhaustion, anxiety, and moments of profound loneliness. The weight of the spotlight felt more like a shackle than a blessing, and I lost sight of who I am and what brings me joy.
I hope you guys miss me as much as I missed you. It’s hard to be away from the people and things I love, especially when music has been my lifeline. I spent so long in my own head, pushing away friends and family, that I forgot how vital connection is to my soul.
But here I am at a Formula 1 Grand Prix, surrounded by the roar of engines and the thrill of the upcoming race, feeling that spark igniting again. This moment is a powerful reminder of the joy that comes from pursuing what we love. I’m learning to embrace the chaos and take the first steps toward rebuilding my life, piece by piece.
So, this isn’t just a post; it’s a promise. I’m finding my way back to music, to the stage, and to myself. I can’t wait to share new songs with you, but more importantly, I want to reconnect with you all in ways that matter.
Stay tuned, because I’m not just coming back; I’m coming back stronger, and I have so much to share.
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username1 the scream i just scrumpt and the race hasn’t even started yet!!!
username2 god answered my prayers and i’m not talking about lando world domination!
↳username10 lando we can be world champions i said!! 🧡
username3 lowk just got chills omg
username4 NEW MUSIC COMING ALERT!!!!
username5 it’s too early to be crying 😢
username6 WE MISSED YOU MORE!!
username7 you’re never alone y/n! i’m here 🤗
username8 lowk heartbreaking knowing the reason you left was due to struggles and not because you wanted to go on vacation or something 😔
username9 my queen, im deeply glad to have you back with us 💕
williamsracing ay, i see the williams team! the team will always be here for you y/n, especially when you need motivation and support! 💙💙
↳username5 ok now im sobbing
↳username11 this is deadass too cute
↳username2 who’s cutting onions?
I shut my phone off and tuck it into my purse, sealing away any connection to the world outside this moment. No more notifications, no more distractions—just me, here. I glance around the paddock, surrounded by a sea of busy engineers, media personnel, and team members, all bustling with excitement as the race is about to begin. The walls of the hospitality suite insulate me from the noise of the crowd outside, but I can still feel the thrum of energy reverberating through the glass.
I shift my focus to the grid on the screen in front of me, watching the drivers as they line up in their spots, engines purring in anticipation. Outside, the Texas sun beats down relentlessly on the Circuit of the Americas, casting long shadows on the track. I can feel the tension building, a nervous buzz in the air as the seconds tick down to lights out.
I take a deep breath, but it’s not because of the race about to unfold. No, this moment is about something much bigger. The relief that comes with turning off my phone is like a release—a tangible sense of freedom I haven’t felt in what seems like forever .And now, watching the cars settle into position, the drivers preparing for the challenge ahead, it feels symbolic—like I’m waiting for my own race to begin.
The engines rev louder, vibrating through the floor beneath me, and I exhale slowly. The lights above the starting line flash red, one by one. My heart pounds in time with the countdown, but this time, it’s not out of fear or anxiety. It’s out of anticipation. I’m ready. As the lights blink off and the cars roar forward, I feel it—this is the start of something new, not just for them, but for me too. My own restart, right here, right now.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
taglist : @heluvsjappie @awritingtree @steamy-smokey
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 x y/n#formula 1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 fluff#f1 smau#franco colapinto x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 social media au#jzprncess
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Hi can u pls do like a tag team type thing with Ellie Williams and vi or vi and Caitlyn please. Thank you!
Hi anon, thank you for this request. You gave me the perfect opportunity to try writing a threesome! I hope you enjoy this, I know it's more Vi-centric but I love my girl Ellie too.
Content: 1.5k words, Slight virgin/corruption kink (reader is their good girl and they gotta take her virginity!!), fingering (r! receiving), nipple-play (r! receiving), strap-on sex (r! receiving), use of pet names, not edited so may have some spelling errors
“I know what you want, angel.”
Vi’s voice cuts through your daydream. You were stuck on the way Ellie’s veins were visible through her hands and how you wanted her fingers deep inside you..you shouldn’t, ‘cause she’s supposed to be just a friend. Still, you’re a sick slut who’s imagining Ellie fucking you into outer space.
Not only that, but Vi, too. Her back, oh fuck..it’s so hard to think when she is wearing a wife-beater and her burly build is on display. You wanna claw into her back-
You’re so fucking obsessed with your two best friends, it’s unreal.
Ellie, for one, is a dream. She’s more standoffish and quiet—not shy, but prefers to keep to herself unless she’s with you and Vi. She feels comfortable, but she’s not like Vi in really any way that matters.
Where Ellie is into playing the guitar and reading comics, Vi’s into boxing and sports. You’re their cute best friend who somehow puts up with their bullshit. And right now, it’s so hard to study when Ellie suddenly shifts closer, and Vi’s words are on the other side of you, words spoken softly but teasingly into your ear.
You’re supposed to be doing peer review in your bedroom..
“W-What are you even talking about, Vi?!” You feign innocence.
Vi only laughs, and your core is heating up. How the hell did you go from playful banter to the room suddenly dripping with sexual tension, laid on so thick you swear it’s already filling your nostrils.
“Don’t act dumb, angel. We see the way you look at us. C’mon..” Her voice is alluring, soft, and it doesn’t help that Ellie is just staring at you with hungry eyes. She isn’t like Vi, not teasing and comedic when it comes to romance. That’s what is so enticing about the situation you’ve found yourself in; you have two completely different but beautiful girls in your bed! You’re somehow getting more pussy than the average masc, and you’re sporting stocking for fuck’s sake.
When your face goes all read and your fingers are trembling, it almost goes unnoticed by Ellie the way your thighs are squeezing together. She lays a hand on your left thigh, the side of you she’s sitting next to, and slowly traces her touch up and down, soft patterns as if she’s making sure you’re really into all this.
Ellie and Vi both know you’re into this..these bitches read your journal in which you talked about getting drilled by both their straps!
“Gonna get all shy on us now, angel?” Vi murmurs into your ear, lips hardly making contact with your soft skin. The funniest thing about all of this is that Ellie is the one touching you and she hasn’t said a single word. It’s Vi guiding this, and Ellie adds onto your neediness.
Then, you feel Vi’s soft lips trace over the side of your neck. You could’ve came right then and there, and Vi earned herself a gasp.
“P-Please..” Is all you can even say. Your brain is much too fucked to process anything else, to think of anything but getting fucked by your two friends who you cherish more than anything in this world.
Your thighs squeeze and Ellie leans closer into you. Now, her lips are smothering the opposite side of your neck. You’re currently feeling all the blood in your body rush down to your clit. Your panties are as soaked as they’d be at a water park.
“Please what? C’mon, baby..tell me ‘n Els what you need.”
“I need you to make me feel good!”
You sounded so breathless already, it was pretty cute. They couldn’t deny you when you were like this.
-
You were left in absolutely but your thigh-high stockings—Vi and Ellie mutually agreed to keep those on. You’re laid out, Vi holding your legs open so you don’t shy away, with your slick pussy on full display. You’re already a goner.
Vi has a huge dildo attached to the harness around her waist. You did not know she brought that monster. Ellie definitely knew this, it had to be planned.
Vi needs to prep you first, she doesn’t wanna hurt her and Ellie’s good girl. Her fingers first trail over your pussy lips, eliciting already desperate moans from you. Ellie is watching and you swear she has hearts in her eyes. She pressed her middle finger into your pussy slightly, making you immediately clench your thighs together around her hand, but she doesn’t let up because you’re giving her soft little little pleas, “p-please, Vi..”, all she wants is to please you.
“Fuck, you’re so tight.” She groans as she slides her finger knuckles deep into your sopping pussy, watching your reaction to make sure you’re doing okay, and then slowly pulls out and adds another, stretching you open slowly as your inner walls swallow her fingers up.
Ellie is sat beside your sprawled body, groping your tits and leaning down to swallow your little whines of need with her mouth.
Kissing Ellie is like another level of heaven. It’s what you imagine being high to be like, if you ever actually smoked weed. Her lips are so soft, so warm. Her tongue licks all over your mouth and it makes you moan even more. When she pulls away, you’re breathless.
“Think you can take my dick, baby?” Vi inquires, and you immediately let out a slutty moan.
“I can, I promise!! Please give it to me, Vi..”
Vi nearly loses her shit when she hears that. It’s always the good girls that are most desperate, am I right?
“Give it to her, Vi. She’ll take it.” Ellie assures the pink-haired girl, and it makes you even wetter that she is talking to Vi as if you’re not there, like you’re basically too dumbed down to understand what she is talking about.
Vi doesn’t seem to wanna waste much time. She pulls her fingers out slowly, making you whine in protest before letting Ellie lick them clean. She spits down and rubs it all over the silicone cock, then she runs the cock up and down along your pussy, making you dizzy with need.
She finally parts your pussy lips and slides just the tip in when she’s got enough of your slick on her dick, and your legs automatically wrap around her waist, making her almost say “fuck it” and pound into you like you’re just some whore.
Ellie watches with hunger as Vi slowly fucks her cock into you. There’s less resistance with all of your juices and Vi’s own..lubricant, but she can practically tell your pussy clamping down on the cock. She realizes just how long she has been sitting in complete awe and leans down to wrap her lips around one of your nipples, making you moan even louder and tangle your fingers into Ellie’s hair.
Getting fucked feels so dirty, and yet so, so good. You’ve got Vi pounding into you now, the ridges of the cock slamming into your spongey walls right where you need it. You’ve got Ellie’s eager tongue flicking against your nipples, taking turns with each while her hand is between you and Vi’s bodies, rubbing tight circles onto your clit.
Your eyes want to just close and feel what these girls are giving you, but you can’t. The sight is so embarrassing for you to watch, but it makes it all the more better to just watch Vi groan as she thrusts into you, and watch as Ellie softly bites your tits.
“Baby’s getting close, hm?” Vi teases, making you involuntarily clench on her cock, only hastening your upcoming orgasm. Ellie’s mouth leaves your nipple, much to your disappointment, to whisper into your ear.
“Cum for us.” Her words are so vulgar, but the soft pecks she plants on your neck is what really sends you over.
You cry out their names like you’re worshipping them, frantically grasping onto Ellie’s hair and tugging at it to keep her mouth all over you, her tongue on your throat, and Vi is saying the most filthy things you’ve ever heard her say as your orgasm crashes through you like waves.
“Fuckkk, swear I can feel your pretty little cunt milk me.”
“There you go, good girl..just cum for me and Ellie.”
When you finally come down from your high, Vi slows down and Ellie’s mouth leaves your neck to plant a few soft kisses on your lips, her fingers leaving your clit to squeeze your hand.
You’re all blissed out, cute little stockings still adorned, and panting with closed eyes.
You just know you’re gonna get the best aftercare.
#cheyisagirlkissermailbox#vi arcane#tlou ellie#vi x fem reader#ellie x fem reader#arcane#tlou2#ellie williams#not my dividers
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(ELLIE WILLIAMS x FEM!READER!!)
NSFW — Ellie comes home angry from work and decides to take her anger out on you ≽^•⩊•^≼
You hear the door slam shut with enough force to shake the walls a little. It probably would've woken you up too if you weren't already, and you sit up from the couch as your girlfriend storms into the living room. She doesn’t greet you as usual, she doesn’t even look at you, slamming her things down and kicking off her shoes.
You look across the room at the ticking clock, midnight approaching and you realize she is almost an hour late. You clear your throat to get her attention — nothing, so you stand up and wander over.
“Ellie?” You say tentatively, placing your palms flat against her back as she hunches over the windowsill, staring out into the rainy night.
She stiffens at your touch, something unfamiliar. Your hands are what calm her down in most cases, a soft sweep of fingertips down her skin and she’d melt back against you. Not tonight and you frown at her sudden cold behavior.
“Did something happen at work?” You ask quietly, sliding your hands down her sides and around her waist, pressing your nose into the back of her shoulder.
She doesn't say anything, instead she grabs your hands and for a split second you think she’s finally giving into your touch, only for her to free herself from your embrace. Ellie walks away from you, disappearing down the hall to where your bedroom is.
You hesitate, wondering if you should follow or just let her be. You know when Ellie gets mad or upset about something it’s almost impossible to crack through that stubbornness that takes over. Then again, you are also persistent enough to piss her off until she lets it all out in one way or another. So you scamper down the hall and into the bedroom, closing the door behind you cautiously.
You hear the tap running from the en-suite bathroom, so you sit on the edge of the bed and wait for her to come out. The door opens soon after, and you can’t help but be dazed by her attractiveness. Her thick auburn hair is slightly messy as it reaches her collarbones, and her loose white tee falls to her upper thighs, showing off the ends of her plaid boxers. You inhale sharply, grabbing Ellie’s attention as she looks across the room.
“Hey.” She says flatly, running a hand down her face that wears a tired expression.
“Hi.” You say back, “you okay?”
“Yes.” She almost tuts, as if your presence is bothering her and she takes a seat at the opposite side of the bed reaching down to take her slippers off.
“Right.” You hum, “you definitely seem okay.”
You get up and walk across the carpet so you're standing right in front of her. Ellie looks up at you with stormy eyes of green, her dark brows furrowed together. You reach out to cup her jaw, sliding your finger along the tense muscle, then dragging it over her bottom lip.
“Whatever it is that happened,” you say just above a whisper, “you could always take it out on me.”
Ellie’s eyes widen slightly and she shakes her head, “no, i’m not gonna do that, i'm not gonna be an ass when you don’t deserve it—”
“You’re kinda already being an ass.” You scoff, “but I'm suggesting another way for you to let out this — well whatever this is.”
It seems as if a lightbulb goes off in her head as she realizes exactly what you mean, and all that tension she holds suddenly morphs into something different, something that makes your stomach flutter. Her teeth graze your thumb that still plays with her bottom lip, and she takes it into her mouth, sucking momentarily.
“What if I get too rough with you?” Ellie mutters, grabbing your hands and standing up, “you know how I get.”
“Mhm,” you nod, “I'm okay with that.”
“You sure?” Ellie narrows her eyes, searching for an indication of doubt, “you know I’m not gonna stop, once I get going.”
You shrug, wrapping your arms around her neck and leaning up to whisper against her ear, “I want you to fuck me until all that anger is gone.”
She lets out a soft groan as your lips kiss the skin along her jaw, but before you can kiss any further Ellie plants her hands on your shoulders, pushing you down so you’re kneeling against the carpet.
“You wanna be good for me?” Her tone of voice has changed, as she leers over you with that superior sort of look in her eyes.
You nod slowly, and she sighs deeply, as if contemplating what she’s going to do with you.
“You’re gonna make me come first before I even touch you.”
You stare up at her with those wide eyes that drive her wild, nodding desperately as you fumble with the waistband of her boxers. You slide them down her smooth, toned legs, wincing as her hand grabs onto your hair and pushes your face between her thighs. Your tongue glides up and down slowly and you moan at the taste that fills your mouth.
“Fuck yeah, just like that.” Ellie inhales sharply, twisting your hair into a ponytail and keeping a firm grip as she controls your movements.
You suck on her clit at a steady pace, and she tilts her head back, mouth slightly open as she praises your good work.
“Mm, you like when I fuck your mouth?” She teases, grabbing onto both sides of your head and grinding down against your parted lips, your tongue slipping inside of her, “such a fucking whore, arent you?”
You look up at her and nod, moaning against her and watching her writhe from above as she gets closer and closer to coming. Your tongue laps at her clit again, sucking and licking, faster and faster until she’s pleading with you to make her come.
It’s such a pleasure, seeing how easy it is for her to go from commanding you, to begging for mercy. You feel a sense of pride wash through you as Ellie cries out your name, thighs squeezing around your face as she lets her orgasm ripple through her. You keep eating her out until she pushes you away, your mouth and chin dripping with her come.
“Oh, fuck,” Ellie pants, sitting back on the bed and looking down at you, “god, you’re so good for me aren’t you?”
She reaches out and cups your cheek, staring at you with hazy eyes as she thinks of all the things she's going to do to you. She motions for you to crawl into her lap and she pulls your head back by your hair, kissing and biting at your neck and you whine at her touch. Ellie loves marking you, especially when she’s angry. A sort of possessiveness takes over as she leaves deep red bruises all over your skin.
Her hands slide down your body, fingers dancing across the hem of your shirt. She keeps her lips and teeth on your neck, her warm breath fanning at the skin as her breathing becomes ragged.
“Up.” She instructs, pulling off your shirt.
She takes it in her hands and with a grunt, rips the fabric down the middle. You gasp, feeling yourself frown. You like that shirt a lot and Ellie smirks at your pissed expression as if it’s what she wants.
“I'll buy you another, baby.” She smiles with a sort of arrogance, but it’s hard to be mad at her when you are so turned on.
She reaches around to unhook your bra next, her eyes lighting up now that you're completely naked from the waist up. She usually takes her time with your boobs, but tonight she has other plans, starting with your ripped shirt that she holds in her hand. She takes a piece of the fabric and uses it as a blindfold, tying it tightly to cover your eyes.
“Ellie—” you whimper.
She quickly shushes you, “you trust me, right?”
You nod without a doubt.
“Use your words.” She insists.
“Yes, I trust you.”
“Good.” She moves so that now she’s on top of you, pushing your legs apart with her knee and sliding down your pants, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.
The sound of your heavy breathing and the light rain against the window is the only thing heard in the dimly lit room, and then the sound of her lips kissing down your body take over, much louder than anything else.
Her kisses aren't slow and gentle, they’re rough and hungry as they press into your skin, across your hip bones, teeth dragging down your thighs.
“So wet, mmh.” She mumbles against the fabric of your underwear before pulling them to the side and burying her face between your legs.
You inhale sharply at the sudden feeling of her tongue on your clit as she lapped quickly, not even easing you into it. She pushes your legs apart, as far as they can go, shaking her head from side to side as she assaults you with her tongue.
“Oh, fuck.” You whine, grinding yourself against her mouth as she quickens her pace even more.
Your fingers snake their way into her dark auburn strands, tugging and holding her head in place as you feel yourself get dangerously close. You can’t believe she’s letting you orgasm this soon, usually she likes to drag it out for hoursssss on end until you’re practically begging.
“Gonna come?” Her voice is muffled against you as her tongue slips inside, swirling and lapping at your wetness.
“Yes!” You cry out, thighs starting to shake as that feeling starts to build up in your lower stomach, “keep going baby, oh!”
Just as you’re about to let go you feel her pull away from your throbbing pussy and you let out a frustrated huff, one that makes her laugh in a sort of mocking way.
You hear her crawl over your body, lips kissing the side of your head before leaning down to whisper against your ear, “aw, did you wanna come?”
She can't see your eyes but they narrow in anger and your cheeks flush crimson.
“God, you’re so mean.”
“I'm so mean?” She repeats smugly, “well, if I’m so mean, maybe I shouldn’t fuck you like you wanted.”
“No, please,” you utter so desperately it makes her groan, “I’ll do anything, please just fuck me.”
“Yeah, beg for it you fucking whore.” She says in a strained sort of voice, “you know I love when you beg for it.”
“Mmh, please, please, Ellie, fuck me however you want.” You whine, not caring how pathetic it sounds.
She grabs you by the jaw, leaning down to kiss you swiftly before flipping you over so you’re face down into the bed. She slides your soaked underwear down your legs, her fingers teasing your clit for a few seconds before she pushes herself up from the sheets.
“Don’t move.” She warns quietly and you hear her pad across the room and into the bedside drawer.
The sounds of fumbling and buckles excite your ears and she’s behind you again, pulling your body up so that you’re on all fours. Her palm slides across your ass, gentle and soft before you feel a sting against the skin.
“Ellie!” You yelp in shock, your ass throbbing from the sudden blow she left against it.
“You look so pretty like this.” She hums, her hand rubbing soothing circles over the red mark she left, “such a pretty little slut for me.”
You feel the tip of her strap press against you and you shudder as she slowly teases your entrance. You attempt to move back onto it, only to be punished by another spank to your ass and you cry out, arms giving out so your elbows hold you up.
“Don’t be a brat,” Ellie tuts, squeezing at the tingling skin, “remember, brats don’t get to come.”
“M’sorry.” You whimper.
She slowly pushes the tip into your already sensitive pussy, and then without another word, she rams the whole length into you with ease, given how wet you are.
“Mmmmh, fuck.”
“You want it hard don’t you?” Ellie groans, “God, I can tell how desperate you are for me to fuck you.”
She starts at a steady pace, her hands holding onto your hips, nails digging into the flesh as she pounds into you from behind.
Your moans echo throughout the room, and feeling embarrassed of how loud you’re being, you bury your face into the pillows.
“No.” Ellie says with disapproval, “I wanna hear you.”
She reaches forward and grabs onto your hair, pulling your head up as she continues to fuck into you, her strokes becoming faster and deeper. You swear she thinks that strap is part of her, the way she groans as if she can feel your tight walls squeezing around her. She leans forward, sucking on the skin of your back and no doubt leaving more marks.
“You wanna watch me fuck you?” She taunts against your ear as you almost collapse against the mattress, “you wanna see what that pretty face looks like when I make you come?”
You can barely string a sentence together, your moans taking over but she understands all the same. You can breathe for a second as she stops her thrusting, turning you to face the other way and removing the blindfold from your eyes. She climbs onto the bed behind you so you’re both facing the mirror that hangs on the wall beside your bed, and she pushes you down so your back is arched, giving her all she needs to slide into you again.
“Watch me while I fuck you, baby.” She bites at her bottom lip as you turn your head to the side to stare into the mirror.
She grabs both of your hands and pins them behind your back, while her other hand keeps your head pushed down against the sheets, making sure you don’t look away for even a second. She begins hammering into you like never before, the sound of her hips slapping against your ass and both of your moans echoing throughout the bedroom.
You can feel your orgasm approaching once again, your lower stomach throbbing from the impact of her deep inside of you, sliding in and out so aggressively it almost hurts. You squeeze your eyes shut as that feeling of bliss almost takes over, and Ellie lets go of your hair to slap you ass again.
You wince in pain, eyes filling with tears as your already sensitive skin stings even more than before. Your eyes meet in the mirror and hers are glazed over with a type of lust you’d never seen before.
“Did I say you could close your eyes?” She says with a certain anger, “I told you to watch me fuck you.”
You don’t care to apologize, seeing as you are so close to coming and nothing else will matter. Ellie seems to read your thoughts and suddenly stops her thrusting, pulling out of you completely and laying back against the bed, arms behind her head.
You look back in shock, chest heaving and mouth agape as she offers you a smug smile. You want to scream as you can’t stand another moment of this torture she seems to enjoy putting you through.
“What are you doing?” You huff, your throat raw from your moaning, “you said you weren't going to stop, remember?”
Ellie exhales deeply, “well, I’m pretty tired, and you’re being such a brat I don’t think you deserve me to do all the work.”
“Ellie,” you almost sob as you struggle to crawl towards her, “please, I’ll be good I promise, I’ll do whatever you say just please—”
You reach out to cup her jaw but she grabs both your wrists and pins them to your sides. She stares up at you, the moonlight slipping through the blinds and painting her face in a silver light.
“You wanna come?” She says, as if it’s news to her and you almost roll your eyes.
“Yes.” You nod desperately.
“Ride me.” She bucks her hips up and her strap presses against your inner thigh, “you wanna come so bad? Do it yourself.”
Your legs are trembling, and you barely have enough strength to hold yourself up, let alone take her strap on your own, but you don’t argue, knowing she isn’t going to give it to you any other way. So you position yourself in her lap, and lower yourself down until she’s completely buried inside of you.
She leans back, arms behind her head again as you struggle to move up and down. She watches as you whine in desperation with sleepy green eyes that hold no remorse. You plant your hands against her abdomen for some sort of support, nails digging into the skin. She almost feels sorry for you, finally giving in as she bucks her hips upwards to meet you.
“Come for me.” She says, thrusting into you a few more times before you can’t hold it in a second longer, “say my name while you come.”
“Ellie!” You throw your head back as you finally orgasm after what feels like hours, and your entire body goes slack as you collapse against her, your warm breath fanning against her neck.
She reaches down to cup the back of your head, planting small kisses against your hair and shushing you as you recover from her torture.
“Sh, you’re okay, I’ve gotchu.”
She runs her hands down your back and slides them around your waist to pull you in close. You feel her hips move and her strap slips out of you slowly, covered in your come. Normally she’d make you suck it clean but after tonight she wants to make sure you’re okay.
“Was that good?” She asks, almost seeming shy.
You smile against her skin, leaning up to kiss her softly, “mhm.”
She looks relieved, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and sighing deeply.
“I'm glad.”
“Do you feel better now?” You ask, drawing circles down her arms with the tip of your finger.
She closes her eyes at your touch and nods slowly, “you always make me feel better.” She stays quiet for a minute, “you promise you’re okay? I didn't hurt you or anything?”
“Mm-mm.” you shake your head, “I told you, I trust you.”
“I know, but sometimes it scares me how rough I can get, I want you to feel safe.” An expression of worry sweeps across her features, “you know that, right?”
“Yes, Ellie,” you reassure gently, “and I do.”
She smiles up at you, spending the rest of the night kissing over the marks she left on you and praising you for how good you were for her.
#ellie williams#ellie the last of us#ellie x fem reader#ellie smut#the last of us#tlou#smut#fxf smut
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This thought popped in my head and I need it!!!!
(only if you want to!)
Imagine reader and Ellie went out to the mall with there friends and the entireeee day Ellie was just thinking about bending reader over and doing her then and there because she was just looking so good with her little ponytail and skirt and the way she would pick up the cutest little clothes and ask Ellie if she thinks they would look good on her. Then when they get home Ellie just goes absolutely feral and fucks her with no remorse. :(((
I'm literally going feral over this thought
im not a shopping person but this? omg.
ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER
mdni please<3
warnings: 18+!! obv smut, strap (r!receiving)
writers note: i loved the idea sm i literally stopped writing my enemies to lovers fic just to write this one🫣sorry it took me so long to post it, i struggled with choosing what to post first !!
You were going out shopping with your girlfriend and some friends. Ellie isn't really an outgoing person, but when it's about you and shopping, she can't wait to see you in all the cute clothes she knows she will buy you. Of course she'll never admit it but you knew she enjoys it as much as you do.
As you make your way into the store, you can see her eyes light up at the sight of all the different styles of clothes. She takes the lead and starts pulling at all sorts of clothing to bring over for you to try on, eager to see you wearing all her favorite things.
The changing rooms had a lot of space inside, so she entered one with you, sitting down on the little bench. While you were taking your previous clothes off, she intensely stared at her phone. She couldn't stand seeing your bare skin and it would be hard for her to control herself otherwise, but you were clueless.
When you changed into a cute, feminine skirt and top, she finally turned her eyes in your direction. Her gaze was judging but not in a bad way - she looked you up and down before smirking.
"Spin." Ellie simply ordered and you obviously did so. You had no idea she told you to do that because of the way your pink underwear shows when the skirt rolls up in the air at your movement. She cleared her throat and nodded, trying to hide her thoughts. "Yeah, looks good."
You frowned at her lack of enthusiasm, not realizing she's actually boiling inside. You were so oblivious it was actually funny, even your friends knew damn well what was going on.
You tried the rest of the clothes Ellie picked for you, not getting the reaction you'd like to each time, but you couldn't blame her.
Oh, little did you know how much she just wants to bend you over and fuck with her strap, she obviously had on, just in case she won't be able to control herself.
After a few other shops and a whole bag of clothes, you came into one with small changing rooms and made Ellie wait outside. She was standing in front of the curtains, pretending to be unbothered, but the way she impatiently kept asking you 'ready?' every-fucking-second said otherwise.
"Wait, wait, the zipper won't close!" You said, trying to lock a pretty, formal, red dress you knew you'll wear like one time - for Christmas or something.
She rolled her eyes and came in, standing so close behind you, you could feel the bulge in her jeans. She zipped it without struggle, placing her head on your shoulder as she looked at the mirror in front of you both. Her hands were sliding up and down your sides as she kissed your neck.
"You look fucking amazing." She whispered and smiled, seeming almost proud of your appearance.
"Is it worth buying, though?" You asked, turning in all directions to see it from every angle. "It will just collect dust in the closet for the whole year until I decide it's time to..."
She laughed, cutting you off. "Jesus, hush. I can afford it... Oh, and trust me, I'll make you wear it."
You finally fully turned around, cupping Ellie's face in your hands and kissing her for only a few seconds. "You spend too much money on me."
"Are you complaining?" She chuckled with a smug look on her face as you stayed silent. "That's what I thought."
After running around the shops for the whole day, you all met in a restaurant. Ellie was sitting in her usual men-spread position and you placed yourself between her legs, not really caring it may be weird. Her hands rested awfully near the hem of your skirt, wrapped around your waist. Sometimes when you were grinding too much, she'd just tug on it to warn you, so no one would notice your behaviour.
Sometimes, when your little movements didn't stop, she'd whisper something in your ear in almost threatening way, even though you wasn't really teasing her intentionally.
On your way home, she was walking faster than usually. You couldn't even call it walking together, she was just pushing you forward.
You tried to slow down or build a conversation but miserably failed every time.
As soon as she brought you back to your shared apartament, she closed the door and immediately started kissing your neck, slowly pushing you towards the bed.
You quickly understood why she acted so weird before. "Oh, Ellie, so you just wanted that the whole day?" You chuckled as she nuzzled into your skin. "And you kept silent instead of telling me?"
She dropped the bag of clothes as soon as you entered the bedroom, your teasing words clearly pissing her off even more than having to watch you in all those cute little skirts back in the shop.
"What the fuck was the whole dinner scene for?" She asked, frustrated, hurriedly undressing you. "Can't sit still? Seriously?"
You laughed, even though you knew what waits for you isn't so funny.
She wasn't teasing your cunt for too long before filling it with her cock, waiting for the right moment to catch you off-guard. It worked as well as she expected to, you moaned and your eyes quickly turned glossy as your thighs clenched.
She kept going for so long, you didn't bother to hold back your tears anymore. Your hips were sore from the way she held them, knowing she won't be able to hit the right spot if you'll move. Your hair started to stick together from the sweat and tears mixed together, making the pillow uncomfortably wet. Your god-knows-which orgasm approached but you weren't able to say anything about it to Ellie as you lost the ability to speak like a thousand thrusts ago. You couldn't decide whether it's a good or bad feeling. Yes, you loved the feeling of her deep inside you to the point you can actually see her in your stomach. But no, you didn't feel strong enough to keep going. Ellie seemed to notice that.
"If you want to stop, just tell me." She said in the most taunting tone she could.
She knew you're not able to 'just tell her'. She noticed the only thing coming from your mouth are moans, occasionally maybe her name, but really rarely.
She reached to wipe your tears away. "Now, that's just adorable. And a little pathetic. Should I slow down, huh? Should I?"
You nodded, realizing your vision isn't actually black, you were just desperately squeezing your eyes shut like it'd make you feel any better. You looked up at her with your teary eyes, still imploringly moving your head up and down.
"What does that even mean? Just speak up!" She laughed.
Your eyes closed again, as your release came. Your mind went blank, just like everything else - your vision, feeling and other senses.
Did you pass out?
It all came back after a few seconds, when Ellie finally stopped and leaned in to kiss you, what woke you up like Sleeping Beauty.
"Oh, sorry babe. Got carried away. I bet you can't really blame me, though." She winked as she started going down on you again.
"Els- what are you...?" You managed to say, stopping to take a breath after each word.
"Gotta clean you up." She smirked and you could already feel her tongue on your clit.
It felt so sensitive, so new, you cried out and your thighs tensed, but didn't close as Ellie held onto them. She was so strong compared to your weakness now, they didn't move a millimeter.
"I'll be fast, this time." She reassured you, as your body squirmed, hoping to get away.
But oh, how much you actually wanted to stay like that. The sensitiveness made you feel the texture of her tongue so precisely, you hoped to still remember it tomorrow...
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x you#ellie x reader#ellie x y/n#ellie tlou#ellie williams#reqs open#wlw smut#ellie the last of us#oneshot#fan fiction#fanfic#ellie williams smut#request#anon#thank you nonnie#shopping#shopping with ellie#ellie williams strap#ellie strap#strap r!receiving
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Hiii 👋 i'm really obsessed with your writing 😳 so may i request a top!ellie x fem!reader smut where ellie wakes up in the middle of the night cause she has nightmares of losing the reader so she goes to the kitchen to get a drink and then cause the reader feels the bedside is empty the reader searches and finds ellie then they have a heartfelt conversation that turns into an emotional lovemaking session :,) all the angst, fluff, and smut combine 👍 we love that
━ 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐍
𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, smut, angst, tribbing, kissing and making out, mention of reader being dead ( in ellies dream ), talk of nightmares, very emotional love making, top/switch! ellie, bottom/switch!reader ( it lowkey varies but ellie does have more control ), idk this an emotional rollercoaster
𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope
𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - i was feeling angsty after watch jjk and this just happened along with that. i love it, i love you ty for sending the request even tho it took me months!!
REBLOG MY WORK! I WORK HARD & IT'S APPRECIATED!!
There was something about you, that Ellie had never dared to bring up. A knack... per se.
She didn't wanna ruin it, or mess with the way you acted.
Whether consciously or subconsciously, you seemed to follow her.
The way you were never far behind at the bar or out and about in Jackson or seemingly always near her when she was moving around your shared home, you'd somehow have something you just needed to do right beside her.
In the kitchen? She could be eating while you were cleaning or rarely vice versa. Painting? You were beside her reading or playing with the cat you'd found on patrol that seemed to follow her all the same. Laying in bed? You were likely knocked out beside her or watching whatever movie she'd put on to keep herself busy.
Busy?
Busy... from thinking. Far too busy to listen to your ramblings sometimes, which you always seem to catch. Poking her cheek and knocking her from whatever bad dream that had caught her in the daylight.
She'd blink a few times while you chastised her for not listening, of course though, you knew why. You always seemed to know why. But she liked when you wouldn't mention it, it helped her forget easier.
But you couldn't always be awake when it happened, which is why she sat dead silent on the edge of the bed with her back to you.
Facing the door to the bedroom with dead cold eyes, not even the cat purring startled her from her still state. She always slept on the side closer to the door. Always.
There was something wrong with her, that's what she just kept thinking. You were so calm, so sweet, so... okay with what you'd gone through. Why couldn't she be the same? Not such a burden, like a child you'd care for, a needy mess you didn't sign up to clean.
It's all she could wonder while standing up from her spot on the mattress and creeping towards the door. Opening and leaving it ajar so as to not wake you with the click of the knob.
She chose her floorboards carefully, and each stair she stepped on, she picked a different spot. But nothing could keep you sleeping for much longer, eyes opening when you reached for an empty, yet warm, spot on the bed. A knack, she laughed, just a thing that came with love.
The cold water didn't soothe her, staring out the window at the empty field and the moon. Staring like it was staring right back, glass clutched in her grasp while her breathing stayed short and stuttered. A tickle in her throat, a choke here and there, a frown on her lips but no noise came out, no true sound passed her teeth.
Crying. She was crying.
Warm, salty tears dripping down her freckled flesh, skin cold and unwelcome. It was so different from yours, why did you like it so much?
When she'd love you, there was something about the way you touched her, caressed, if she willed. The way you so delicately danced your fingers across her shoulders while she tried her best to pleasure and please you.
But it'd been a long time since you'd made love, or even fucked for that matter. Unable to look you in the eyes for long, nor speak to you in extended sentences. You'd always give her a kiss, always.
Good morning, goodnight, goodbye.
Sometimes she'd hold your hand, but you had learned not to reach for it because sometimes it made her nervous.
For a while, she wouldn't change in front of you. Wouldn't turn her back because you'd see all the new scars, only letting you when you offered to bathe her. She cried though, when you did.
She loved you though, adored you, worshiped the ground you walked on because you were something incredible. A rare find amongst the normality and depravity.
A glistening pomegranate in a field of rotten tomatoes.
You were Persephone, and she? Only Hades.
"A bit early to be awake, hm?"
You sounded like a melody, even when exhausted. Your steps are so much lighter than hers could ever dream of, no wonder you snuck away in the mornings so easily to surprise her with breakfast when she'd had a bad night. But she never got to surprise you with breakfast, you were never up late crying into her arms or begging her not to leave.
Screaming at the air and clawing at yourself in your sleep.
"Couldn't go back to sleep." Her voice was cold, scratchy, like a broken record that couldn't speak correctly. "I guessed that..." You muttered, moving to stand by her side, looking out the window as well.
"There a unicorn out there or somethin'?" You asked softly, almost as if it was a genuine question, tilting your head before turning to look up at her. Eyes then flickering to the glass she was squeezing.
"No." You heard her, but didn't glance at her. Soft hands reaching up to take the cup away and set it beside the sink. She didn't put up a fight, she let you take it from her. Not like she needed it anyway.
"Hm... is there... anything special out there?" You stood in front of her, reaching up to her face this time, holding it though as if it was just as fragile as the glass you'd just held.
You wiped away the wet streaks, getting her to finally tilt her head to meet your eyes. She'd been afraid to look, scared each time of what she'd see but it was never anything bad.
Though, it was like looking under the bed for monsters before you could rest and sink away into a Candyland esc dream.
You would always be just a little bit afraid of what you'd see.
"No..." She was much more light in her tone this time, seeing you nod your head and feeling you wipe away her tears. "Then why're you staring?" You tucked some of her longer hairs behind her ears, smiling at her.
"I don't know, I just..." She sucked in a breath, shaky and half intentional, her deep frown and teary eyes returning. "I just wanted to... I don't..." "It's okay, Ellie."
You took your hands from her face and moved down to hold her hips. It felt secure to her, you knew that just by the way she shifted to lean towards you, into your body, sharing your warmth while closing her eyes.
"You wanna go sit outside? Get some air?" You questioned, holding the back of her neck while massaging away the anguish she held physically. The swing on the porch knew just how much she held as well.
"No.. not..." Her eyes opened again, a deep, guttural breath being taken in. "Not tonight?" You beat her to speaking, seeing her agree and feeling her set her hands on your forearms, gently pushing you away. "C'mon then..." You said.
You accepted that at this moment she didn't want to be touched, instead opting to begin the walk back upstairs and to your bedroom. Hearing her following behind until you reached your side of the bed, that's when she halted on the other side of the room.
"Ellie... the bed misses you." You sat on your side, patting hers.
"Why do you stay?" You could've missed the question, it almost flew over your head from how dead quiet it was. Her voice was the pin drop in the room besides the wind that made your cream colored curtains blow.
"Because I want to and I love you a lot, now c'mere m'cold."
Things stood still for a split pause, her feet soon carrying her over to sit beside you, but she could only stare at her hands.
Whether covered in blood, water or your secretion, she hated them.
What they've done, what they've touched.
"Where's your ring?" You raised your eyebrow, holding her hand up in the light. It was gone, but the tan line of where it had been was very much apparent, the woman almost never took it off.
"I took it off to wash my hands... I- I got dirt on them and- and..." You breathed, setting her hand back in her lap as she explained. "That's okay, we'll put it back where it belongs tomorrow, okay?" Ellie hummed, grabbing your hand to hold it before you could fully pull back.
"Unless you want a divorce, but lawyers are so expensive and I like cuddling with you." You pouted, always seeming so serious when you spoke silly nonsense, it nearly made her crack a smile.
"I'd let you have everything."
The end of the world was here. But yes, let's talk lawyers.
"I wouldn't let you give me all that." You then said, peeking up at her through your lashes. "Half and half. You get the porch swing though." She snorted, tilting her head down to press her forehead against yours.
"I do really like that porch swing."
You sat like that for a moment, feeling her warm breath tickling your lips. She'd forgotten and that was enough, the thought of your cold dead body that had haunted her awake slipped from her mind.
Because your forehead was hot and you'd then kissed her with a tepid mouth. It meant you were alive.
She didn't let up when you pulled back though, moving closer in a chase for affection. You allowed it as well, placing your hand on her cheek, feeling her still chilled skin. She wanted more- needed more.
But then, Ellie pulled back.
"I'm sorry.." She wiped her face, pushing her hair back in the process while you moved to keep your gaze on her. Taking them away to be able to see her. "Tell me what's wrong."
You were as cold as ice when she shut her eyes, but warm in reality, she tried focusing on the way your palms ran down her upper arms, soon pulling her into a hug.
"I'm right here." She muttered something in response, holding you back while staring at the wall. Taking in the scent of the new soap you'd gotten from a lady in Jackson to try out. It was like sitting in a flower field, and you were doubling as the sunshine too.
"See?" You asked, bringing her hands up and under your shirt to your chest, allowing her to feel your heartbeat. "Feel that?" Ellie hummed, taking a moment to actually feel the thump, thump, thump that she couldn't feel in her dream.
You were so soft, always, she wondered how you did it because compared to her rough, calloused fingers, you were something entirely different. She knew that, so it didn't surprise her when the feeling of your flesh never changed when her grasp moved down, yours just lightly holding the back of her hand.
Her thumb met your nipple and you watched the fabric move as she ran over the little nub. A little gasp escaping your lips when she did, it'd been a long time since it had, and almost immediately you felt the gut feeling that you'd pushed from your mind to give her space.
"Ellie..." You muttered, resting your forehead on hers while you both watched her move to your other breast, her other hand also making an appearance as it slipped beneath the garment as well, sliding upward.
Slow, drawn out, her mouth capturing you in a kiss to distract you from her touch. Little though, could take you away from her after being deprived of her love for so long, you loved her so much if she said jump, you'd ask how high.
And god those highs were to die for.
"I missed you..." You whispered, kissing her again and again, she hadn't wanted to talk and you got the hint. If you were hungry, she must've been starving.
Her hands went lower, leaving your breasts and she pulled away for just a mere second to slip off the shirt. Then her own came off and she tossed it aside with yours, bare from the waist up with skin on skin, just how she liked to lay.
God, she missed you too.
You were wearing pajama pants that were slightly too big on you, they'd drag on the bottoms of your feet if you didn't pull them up a bunch. She liked to chuckle when you'd get all frustrated with them, but they were your favorite pair.
She thought about this while pushing the waistband down to run her fingers along your hips. She was being light, not squeezing or grabbing, caressing instead.
"What do you wanna do?" You asked, pulling back to kiss her jaw sweetly, listening to her breathe in and out, shuddering from the contact. "I want you..." You let out a 'hmph' sound, pecking her neck before pulling back while holding her shoulders.
"Let me then..." You hummed, lightly guiding her to lay down then you kissed the spot between her eyebrows. Trailing down until you lifted yourself back up, staying straddled on her pelvis, teasing her by running your nails along her lower belly.
Tugging her sleep pants down while also taking her boxers with, you leaned to kiss her abdomen before continuing them along her legs. You then kissed her knee when she helped you remove them, sliding back up to lay against her with a lopsided smile and a want for more kisses.
And as your lips met hers again and again, you slid your own bottoms away and aligned yourself with your wife. Such a knack you had for fitting together, like two puzzle pieces because you knew what she needed and wanted. But Ellie knew the exact same... with you.
You both let out a noise and a gasp when your cunts touched and your clits grazed. Staring into each other's eyes while you began humping against her, looking down only to slip a hand around the back of her leg pushing it up and over before it caught itself on your thigh.
But she wasn't gonna let you do it all, not when she'd pulled away so hard it could've given you whiplash. She'd finally tightened her grip, moving you in a way that you had no control, letting her take you though you were on top.
"God I love you." You said, pitchy and breathless while turning back to look at her, feeling her nails digging into your shoulders and her arms moving to pull you as close as she could while you moved back and forth with her guidance. Allowing her legs to suck you in.
You dripped against her, you and her mixing while you moved slowly back and forth. You wanted to feel every inch of her while your little buds showed each other as much affection as you planned to give her tonight.
"I hate when you doubt that." That was your final murmur when you took her face and brought it to yours, tasting the faint toothpaste and enjoying how she became more confident in her want.
"I know." She mumbled, letting out a low moan when you began moving just the slightest faster, dragging your mouth along her jaw and neck leaving your mark while inching you both towards your release.
You wanted it so badly, but you didn't want to give up the moment just yet. No, because you didn't know when you'd get another and for a mere second that felt like decades you pulled away.
She kept you moving, keeping her hold on you while humping into your body again and again, your hips didn't falter. But you did, and she noticed, watching you curiously with a hint of desperation for you to return.
She was so pretty, why couldn't she see what you saw?
"I love you."
A whisper as you both were rocked over the edge, coming against her with a cry while she tried to muffle her noises. You wouldn't let her though, grinding against her clit with your own, bucking your hips and making her whine and then make a noise that was a soft yell.
You just kept going though, going until you fell against her completely, tucking your face away in her neck. You could've laid there forever and a day, never moving or twitching. Like heaven and you were its top angel.
"I love you too." She whispered, almost unsure of herself, not of the words though. "I know." You smiled, sitting up and grabbing her hands to hold. "I always know, baby."
You had a knack for that.
#ellie x reader#tlou ellie#ellie#ellie the last of us#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams imagine#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x you#ellie williams#tlou#the last of us#tlou 2#the last of us part 2#nevy writes
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jason todd x reader please 😔
The ShopKeep and the Hobbyist [J.T]
Summary: Jason's been going to this bookstore for long enough that he's developed a bit of a reputation with them. If only the cute cashier would understand he's trying to flirt but as fate would have it, one knife chase later, and maybe they're more than worker and costumer. Pairing: Jason Todd x Male!Reader WC: 7.3k TW: use of fag but its a quote
Jason traveled out of Gotham once a week, always on a Sunday, always to the same location for three entire hours. Everyone knew that Sunday from noon to four— accounting for traffic and eating out that might happen, that Jason was absolutely unavailable. Unless you physically went to track him down.
But that’s yet to happen.
It’s Sunday and Jason arrived at the normal spot earlier than usual. Traffic was amazing, no accidents on the way out of Gotham, and the highway was thankfully void. He parked his bike in his normal spot, right in front of the store, and lifted the visor to the helmet before heading inside.
The Open Book had always welcomed Jason, even when the shop was closed in the middle of a blizzard. And he helped where he could (Wayne Enterprises always made a large monthly donation to the shop and for some odd reason, someone had gifted the shop a fake bird that is able to stop any thefts(odd)).
“New shipment came in today,” The store owner's grandson greeted him, leaning across the counter to grab at the basket of free candies the shop offered. “Snagged this vintage-looking book collection for ya.” Ever since word that a Wayne kid visits the bookshop, sales have grown so it’s hard keeping certain items in stock. Especially the fancy-looking titles.
“Do tell,” He grabs a bite-sized chocolate and rips the packet open while you set your lollipop wrapper into your apron pocket before ducking under the counter.
“Shits heavy,” You grunt, slamming the box onto the table and read the label. “Uhh, ‘William Shakespeare, Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies. Published According to the True Originall Copies, 1623.’ Original is spelled wrong, though,” You look up at him and pause at his wide-eyed, clearly shocked expression.
“Shakespeare fan?” You ask, opening the flap to the box. “There’s a bunch of them in here. I think this was someone’s collection.”
“Do you know how much it’s worth?” Jason laughs, peering into the box, and then whistles.
“Probably a hundred at the most,” You shrug and he slaps the table with a loud Ha! that makes you look at him, crossing his arms. “Fifty?”
“Try nine mil,” The lollipop falls from your mouth as you look from Jason to the book collection.
“For all of it?” You gape.
“For the top book,” He corrects. “Thank god you snagged it before someone who cared did.”
“Yeah,” You sigh, staring at the book and taking in all of the details. That’s more than you’ll ever make in a lifetime. “What should I do? Do you want it?”
“Want it like I need air,” He admits, handing you another lollipop. “But you should probably auction it, get a stack and whatnot.”
“Grams would get pissed,” You shake your head and slide the box towards him. “Believes books should be read, not stored as an artifact, yknow? Think she marked this box as a hundred, want me to ring it up?” He looks at you and takes his helmet off so you can fully see his are you stupid? look that’s plastered on his face.
“(Y/n),” Jason slides the box back. “This is worth more than every single book in here!” And as much as he pained Jason to say that, he knew it was true. With over two entire floors filled with books, they were but a drop in the bucket compared to that singular box sitting between the two of you.
“It’s just paper and ink,” You shrug, staring at the box. “Besides, she’d get mad if I did and I can’t exactly hide nine million dollars!” Sighing through his nose, he agrees to buy the box and has you set it aside while he goes about shopping.
“You’re staring,” Someone tells him as they walk past and his head spins around to see who it is. It’s one of your younger sisters, around twelve or thirteen, if he remembers right.
“Wasn’t,” He tells her and picks up a book. “I was looking at this book!” She turns back to him and raises her eyebrows at the title before grinning.
“Didn’t take you as an Ice Breaker fan,” She chides and walks away while Jason stares at the book. It could’ve been basically any other book. Putting the book back, Jason returns to his actual book shopping which only takes ten or so minutes. He knows his bag is going to be heavy with the Shakeseapre books so he can’t get too many other books this week.
“Light load,” You comment, scanning the books. “You bought this one a month ago, too.” You note, holding off on scanning A Good Girls Guide to Murder.
“My sister wants to read it,” He explains, flipping through the pages. “And she likes to dogear pages.” Cringing, you scan the book and read him his total before leaning against the counter. It’s a large enough counter that most of your body can rest against it while he pays while you use your phone to order some lunch.
“That place sucks ass,” Jason comments as he’s putting his card away. You roll your eyes and look up at him.
“I’m hungry as shit and there’s no good places around within a reasonable price, this place has decent grilled cheeses.” You justify and he finishes paying.
“What would you have gotten?” He muses, leaning against the counter so the two of you are face to face. Staring at the sad picture of a grilled cheese you huff.
“Five guys,” You admit, looking back at him. He nods, silently urging you to continue while looking you up and down, his eyes slowly moving. You also don’t notice it or the small smile on his face when you don’t move away from him. “Strawberry milkshake and grilled cheeseburger.” You finished.
“No fries?” He asks and you shake your head.
“I don’t really eat fries from there,” You admit, fiddling with the skin around your nails.
“Sounds good,” He tilts his head a bit, grinning so his canines are showing. He watches as your eyes dip once and then twice to his lips before they finally stay on his face.
“It’s fucking good. An arm and a leg, but still,” Standing up, you groan and stretch. He stands up too and puts on his helmet. You watch and wait for him to dip his head down before giving his head two pats. For good luck, of course.
When he leaves, you return to your seat and look over the shop. There’s a dozen or so people inside, some people who are clearly not there for books as they’re recording those random interviews with the tiny microphones and such. You should really stop them, maybe put up a sign or something. But they’re leaving anyway. So it doesn’t really matter.
“Did you kiss?” Your sister asks, walking over to grab one of the candies.
“Girl,” Your face scrunches and she tosses the wrapper at you but it falls short.
“Just saying, seemed awfully close.” She shrugs. “I would’ve made a move on him a long time ago.”
“You’re ten.” Huffing, she huffs back and puts her hands on her hips.
“Nineteen,” She corrects. Making a talking motion with your hand, she smacks it away and throws a fireball candy at you. “That’s why you’re forty and a virgin!”
“Neither of those are true,” You stress, tossing the candy back into the bowl. “And didn’t you just get dumped by some loser who said he’d absolutely eat a turducken covered in chocolate?” She rolls her eyes and walks behind the counter to sign into work.
“I dumped him,” She corrects. “Unlike your failed relationship with the guy who wanted you to pretend to be a woman.”
“Too low,” You sigh, shaking your head. “Too low.”
—
With your lunch break in full swing, you’re upstairs in the break room watching some crappy straight-to-DVD movie your father had bought years back while eating the very sad grilled cheese when the door opens. Half expecting it to be another family member, you don’t look away from the TV and give a small hey but when no one replies you look towards the door and hum surprised to see Jason there. Even more so on who let him in
“Missed me?” You grin, watching as he closes the door behind him and rolls his eyes.
“Little delivery,” He corrects and motions for you to turn back to the movie. You do, albeit a bit hesitant to do so, but you try not to look back when you hear him getting closer. “Close your eyes, too.” He adds when you look as far back as you can without turning your head. Groaning, you cover your eyes with your hand just to prove you’re not peeking and hear him set something down on the spot next to you.
“See you next week!” He pats your back before snatching the half-eaten grilled cheese from your hand and you take it as a sign you can open your eyes. You’re not even upset he’s eating your lunch, it wasn’t good. Looking at what he had set down, you see the familiar white and red bag and crack a smile.
“You got me Five Guys?” Your head whips to the door but it’s already shutting and you can hear his heavy boots quickly running down the stairs. Turning back to the bag, you pull your phone out and scroll to find his contact.
Thank you
we feast tonight
The two of you don’t text much, mostly if he had forgotten something in the shop or given him a heads-up that the bookstore was closed for the day. Hell, his contact name is still Jason (bookstore fav). But he reads it immediately and thumbs up the last text.
This grilled cheese sucks by the way
It feels like plastic
Probably is lol
While Jason is very much a regular at the shop, you don’t really remember when he first started to frequent the shop. Just that one Sunday, you had seen the time and noticed he was late to the shop. He’d come in almost three hours later than he normally did and watched as you sighed, tossing his favorite candy at him before ushering him to the counter. He listened as you told him that next time he is late he needs to text or you’d send out an amber alert yourself.
He truly hadn’t thought anyone had noticed the change in his routine. Especially someone he only saw once a week. It had been a really shitty night for him and an ever-shitter morning, feeling like a ghost wandering through Gotham, living in a life he never should have.
He apologized with a grin and gave you his number. He also spent a little extra time in the shop, loving the familiar smell around him. He loves the bookstore more than he loves his guns, more than he loves most things really. It’s the only normal thing in his life and truly, Jason doesn’t know what he’d do without it. Without you, honestly. He’s only ever there when you are and a place is only as welcoming as the people inhabiting it.
Which is why he’d picked up the 2 am phone call so fast.
“Jason?” You whisper shout into the phone. He can hear some harsh wind and some distant shouts in the background, but it took much less than that for him to abandon his patrol and start over to you. “Shit— I’m sorry but I don’t know who else to call.” You add, the clarity hitting that during an emergency you called the guy who lived nearly half an hour away on a good day.
“It’s okay, doll,” He replies and you dare to glance behind you. Maybe they’d given up by now, but no. “What’s wrong?” He asks as you round a corner. “Where are you?” He quickly adds and you glance at the road signs.
“Uhh, heading towards Second Ave and Belcher Street. My friend's boyfriend thinks she’s cheating with me and him and his friends are chasing me,” You explain.
“Guns?” He asks, already leaving the Gotham border.
“No,” You huff, the strain of running heavy on your chest. “Just knives.”
That’s good, he tells himself. Distance is what you should be focusing on. But he knows that the regular person cannot run for nearly as long as he can and realistically, you’re bound to get tired much sooner than multiple people.
“Is there a crowd nearby?” You can hear some muffling to his voice but that’s honestly the least of your issues. “Maybe a club or hospital.” He adds when you don’t respond fast enough.
“No,” You strain. “Just apartments and shit. God, fuck! Do you think I should climb the fire escape?” There are several ahead of you, and one of them is low enough for you to grab.
“Can you?” He asks.
“Yeah— yeah,” Jumping up, you pull yourself up and start climbing up to the roof. “Shit, I’m really high up,” You pant, daring to look over the edge and see the guys climbing up. “They’re climbing up,” You tell him, quickly backing away and trying to find an exit. What type of roof doesn’t have a fucking exit?
“I’ve seen people jump from roof to roof,” You're thinking out loud at this point, trying to find some type of solution to your stupid idea. “Can’t be that hard, right?”
“Depends on the distance,” He truthfully tells you and you look at the two nearby roofs.
“Definitely too far. I’m fucked.”
“Still on Second and Blecher?” He asks and you mutter a yeah when you see them reach the roof.
“They’re up,” You mumble. “I could jump and live, yeah?” Glancing to your left, you see a dumpster and reassure yourself that you’d be fine.
“Do you think you can come back down the fire escape?” He asks. “Is there one behind the building?” Looking behind you, you let out a loud sigh.
“Yeah— yes, heading down.” Rushing down as fast as you can, you reach the ground as they’re in the middle and run back into the main road.
“Head back down the way you came,” Jason instructs. He’s only five minutes away at this point, maybe three if he tries hard enough. He just needs you to buy five more minutes.
“Okay,”
Running for what felt like an eternity, your legs are burning and your chest is tight. Maybe that one time you lied during your physical exam was coming back to bite you.
But they’re still chasing you and Jason is still guiding you. You’re sure you’re about to pass out when a motorcycle drifts in front of you.
“Red Hood?” You gape, panting. The fuck?
“Come on,” You hear him and Jason say. You’ll worry about that once you’re away from those absolute track-and-field freaks chasing you. Getting on the motorcycle, he holds your thigh with one hand before pulling off.
The ride is silent as you’re catching your breath and just making sure you’re okay in general. Aside from the insane burn in your calves, you’re fine. The ride does a lot to calm you down, by the time he reaches the shop your head is pressed to his back and you’re holding him not as tight as you were before.
“I don’t know your address,” He admits and you laugh into his back. After all that happened it’s a little humorous that your biggest issue is Jason getting your address. You give it to him and it takes him a second but he has the route mapped out before he pulls back onto the street.
“I’m staying the night.” He tells you as you get off of the bike. You don’t protest, not in the slightest. You’re far too tired to do so anyway. Instead, you wave him over and head upstairs. He tries to hide his helmet from the camera view but you tell him they don’t work.
“This guy got robbed two days ago; whole building found out the cameras are fake,” You explain while leaning against the elevator wall.
“And you feel safe?” He incredulously asks, looking you over. Even buildings in Gotham have working cameras.
“I have a gun,” You shrug while he looks at you with more of an analyzing gaze, a little surprised you’d have a gun. “And no valuables. My electronics are all secondhand for that exact reason.”
“So, steal the couch?” He jokes.
“If it can fit through the door, it’s yours!” Patting his arm, you exit the elevator and fish out your keys. Thankfully you hadn’t dropped them during the chase.
“What happened?” He asks as soon as you close and double lock the door. Looking at him, you drop your phone and keys onto the kitchen island before heading back to the door.
“My friend, Gina,” You start with a sigh, kicking your shoes off. “She used to be my beard in high school. But we never officially broke up, I guess because she posted a story saying happy six-year anniversary. With a bunch of pictures of us together. Her boyfriend saw and he’s always been…” Rolling your hand, you open your closet and grab a new outfit. “He thinks I’m lying ‘bout being gay. Because I’m too… I dunno what he thinks. But he says I don’t look gay and he’s never seen me with a guy before.” You explain with a huff. “Not my fault I’ve been single for two years, y'know. I got school and work and whatever!” Slamming the closet shut, you sigh and apologize.
“I’m gonna take a shower, feel free to snoop and prod. And take the boots off, I just moped.”
“Course,” He doesn’t move an inch as he unties his boots and walks to the shoe rack to set them down. You thank him and head into the bathroom.
“If you gotta piss or shit, go ahead. I got a curtain and a strong scent blaster plugged in.” You tell him at the doorway to the bathroom.
“Noted.” He laughs but it drops once the door closes.
He finds himself making sure the windows are locked and the curtains are properly drawn. He grabs his phone and saves your address into his personal map before he goes to check to see what type of security measures you have. And there’s not many, just a gun that’s badly hidden in your bedside table and the extra lock on the door.
But there’s not much to the apartment, the decor is extremely minimal but he remembers you talking about saving to buy a house in the countryside. Or at least outside of a city. Own land and all that.
He can’t decide if that’s good or not, there’s nothing to steal for sure, but it’s also really sad. There’s no personal touch to your apartment, it reminds him of one of his safe houses.
He settles himself into the couch once he’s checked over everything, listening to the sounds of the shower and eventually, he hears the shower turn off.
When you return to the living room in a pair of shorts, you’re a little surprised that Jason is still there.
“Bruce Wayne as Batman makes a lotta sense,” Opening the fridge, you pull out two water bottles before setting them on the counter.
“(Y/n),” Jason stops that conversation. “You should file a police report.”
“Fuck is that gonna do?” You huff, closing the fridge and opening the freezer to grab a popsicle. “Gina will hate me, cops will just forget to file it, and then I get harassed.”
“They tried to kill you,” He stresses, blocking you from moving away from the fridge. You stare at him, a little upset that he’s caring so much. You feel bad for even calling him and sending him out of his way. And now he’s staying for who knows how long. Not to mention now you know his biggest secret— a family secret at that, one that you can tell one person, and suddenly the whole world knows.
“Happens every day,” You shrug but honestly, yeah, that shit scared you. His face drops and he snatches the popsicle from your hand before tossing it on the counter to your left.
“No. Not to you. Not to most people. So what if Gina hates you afterward? Do you want a friend that’s known you since high school who would rather side with her crazy boyfriend?”
“Of course not!” You groan. “But it’s Gina. She’s always been there and— and this is a one-time thing,”
“You sound ridiculous,” He tells you as he walks out of the small kitchen and into the living room. “Trying to kill someone isn’t a fucking one-off. It’s a crime, a legit crime. Has Gina even checked if you’re okay?” He points to the phone that’s still on the counter; the same phone he knows for a fact hasn’t buzzed once.
“No.” There's no need to check your phone, you already know there’s nothing from her. She’d never text you first. He nods as if to say there’s your answer.
“Look, Jason. It was scary as fuck,” You admit. “But I’m good. And I thank you, but you should go home. I just…” Looking off to the wall. “I don’t know why I called you, I feel like shit for dragging you away from your home.”
“I was spending my night watching Harley and Ivy dry hump in front of a newly exploded power plant. You didn’t take me away from shit.” He blinks before heading to the couch. “Besides, it’s too late to drive back. I’m beat,”
“You’re lying,” You deadpan, tossing a water bottle between your hands.
“Am I?” He fake yawns, leaning back on the couch. “Can I get a blanket?” Clearly, he’s not going to leave, and it would be bad as a host to not make him comfortable. Asshole.
“Fine,” He grins as you walk away.
“Oh and Jason, Gram’s told me about the payment plan you set up. Taking advantage of a woman who can’t speak English is rude. She thinks you’re paying five dollars a week for some back dues you owe.” It was actually five hundred thousand dollars a week, which was absurd but hey, if he insists.
“It’s just nine million,” He calls back. “Not even my money and B won’t notice it’s gone.”
Just nine million, you repeat to yourself as you find a suitable blanket. It’s one of those thick fur blankets with a tiger on the front.
“The couch is a pull-out, by the way.” Heading back into the living room, you tuck the blanket under your arm. “I’ve used it like once. It’s pretty comfortable unless you want the bed.” You add, setting the blanket on the edge of the couch. There’s no coffee table, you don’t see a reason for one.
“I can sleep on gravel, doll. I’m fine, thank you.” For some reason, his eyes are having a hard time staying on your face but you’re busy walking back into the kitchen to notice.
“If you’re hungry make anything, I’m going grocery shopping in two days anyway.” Tossing the popsicle back into the freezer, you lean against the counter and watch him. It’s a little staring contest you have going on. His eyelashes are nice, real pretty boy-esque.
The silence and tension in the apartment is broken by four rapid knocks to the front door followed by a worried: “(Y/n)?”
“Gina,” You tell Jason as he’s already off of the couch and halfway to the front door by the time you stand up straight. When you walk up behind him you pause, when did he have time to grab a gun? But he’s looking through the peephole before looking back to you and holding up two fingers. You almost laugh, this isn’t some military operation; just a… friend? at your door.
“Please,” Gina says through the door. “We just— K wants to apologize,” Huffing, you look at Jason who’s standing behind the door, one hand on the top lock. He truly doesn’t want to unlock it, but it’s your apartment. Your call.
“Says who?” K snaps, his voice a lot more muffled than hers is.
“You’re going to fucking apologize.” She snaps right back.
He raises an eyebrow and you nod to the door against your better judgment. He unlocks the door and stands in front of them, really standing over them with his damn height, the arm holding the gun hidden behind the door. You can basically hear Gina pause when she sees him.
“Who are you?” Gina asks, looking him up and down.
“A friend.” He answers simply and then looks over to you. “Your friend is here.”
“Thanks, Jay.” You smile and usher him into your bedroom with two quick glances. “Gina,” You greet a little harshly as you stand at the door. “Kyle.” You look at him for only a second.
“It’s K.” He corrects.
“Can we come in?” She asks, stepping forward. “I explained everything to K and he’s sorry.” She looks back at him and he’s just standing there with this stupid look on his face.
“Is he?” You ask, looking at Kyle. “Because when he was screaming: I knew you weren’t a fag; I’m gonna cut your dick off; stop running bitch; and since you wanna pretend you’re a fag come and taste our dicks he just didn’t seem real sorry.” She cringes, he hadn’t said that part through the yelling they were doing.
“I don’t wanna lose you,” She places a hand on the door, not that you were planning on closing it just yet. “Let us in and he’ll apologize.” Sighing, you look at her and frown. Between not even texting to see if you’re okay and then coming over with the audacity to think that a fucking apology would smooth things over, you were peeved.
“You’re losing one of us tonight. Him or me.” She takes a step back and frowns, her eyebrows knitting as your words settle in her. But at that moment, you knew the friendship was over. It shouldn’t ever take that long for an answer like that.
“(Y/n), he’s sorry!” She almost shouts, shouting as if you had given her this impossible task. You want to reply, you want to yell, and to get into it then and there. But it’s no use. Your neighbors are sleeping, you’re tired, and far from a mood where you want to interact with them. As such, you close the door and put the locks back on.
She shouts some things from the other side but you’re not listening as you enter your bedroom.
Jason was standing right next to the door, startling you. If he hadn’t been so close you wouldn’t have seen him in the darkness.
“Is that a requirement for vigilantes?” You ask, clutching your chest in an exaggeration. “Y’all are fucking spooky,” Tossing yourself onto your bed, you stare up at him.
“She’s still at the door,” He ignores the comment on his family business once again. Instead, his eyes trained on your front door, watching and waiting to see what their next move is going to be. You hope for their sake it’s leaving because his hand is still on the safety of his gun.
“Not like they can get in,” You shrug, laying flat on your back. “I never give my key to anyone and it takes a full round of bullets to break the door.”
“You know that how?” He asks, setting his gun down on the dresser.
“Last year my neighbor's crazy ex tried to break in but the door didn’t budge.”
“Of course,” His head dips back into the bedroom, watching you. “Sleep, I’ll be in the living room.”
“Okay,” Turning your head to look at him, you grin. “If you get nightmares, the bed is free.” Patting the empty space, Jason rolls his eyes with a grin and leaves the room. “Your gun?” You call after him, staring at the handgun still on your dresser.
“I have two more!” He calls back.
“How the fuck?” But he doesn’t answer.
—
The next morning you wake up to the sound of the front door closing. It stirs you, really, but you’re lucid enough to realize that hey, either Jason treated you like a one-night stand or someone had broken in.
Sitting up in the bed, you collect yourself for a moment and grab his gun on your way out. While you’re surely not as keen as Jason is, you like to think you’re observant enough. The door is locked again, so you figure he didn’t leave and someone didn’t break in.
“Jason?” You turn the corner to the kitchen and see him standing with a bag of Ihop, staring at you as if he’d gotten caught stealing from the cookie jar.
“Good morning,” His eyes flicker to the gun as you set it on the counter. A part of him is proud that you were hesitant enough to bring the gun with you. “I got breakfast.”
“Aw,” You grin. “Post hate crime meal!”
“That’s an insane sentence,” He tells you, unpacking what he had gotten. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I got you blueberry pancakes, french toast, eggs, and bacon. And the orange juice,” He places two boxes and a large cup of orange juice in front of you, then the straw. But you’re just focused on the fact that you know for a fact that wasn’t a random order. You’d posted about that exact order once before. Maybe a month or so ago.
“Oh,” You hum, looking at the food and then at him. “That’s sweet. Thank you.” He hums back, dropping the bag down to the floor, and takes his food. He’d gotten strawberry pancakes, hash browns, an omelet, and a coffee.
Now you feel bad for not having a coffee table.
“Wanna watch something while we eat?” You point your thumb toward the living room and he nods.
While in the middle of watching Breaking Bad, you get up to set the empty containers in the sink and the cup in the trash while Jason watches. He doesn’t really know what to do, he wants to sleep, having stayed up the entire night in case anything happened but he’s enjoying his time with you. Even if the circumstances were… less than ideal.
“Do you work today?” He asks when you’re walking back.
“Depends if my sister calls out,” Sitting, you turn your body to look at him. “I work Wednesday through Sunday, most weeks, at least.”
“Are you going to make the report?” He also turns his body to you, watching as you toss your head back and sigh.
“Probably not,” You admit, looking back at him. “It’s more effort than I care to do,” He blinks, clearly disappointed but he’s not going to push.
“You should carry a weapon.” Jason’s not really asking, he’s telling you. “How good are you with a gun?”
“Not sure,”
“You bought a gun without training for it?” He asks, slowly as if he’s waiting for you to correct him and tell him that you actually go to the gun range in your free time.
“My dad got me it when I moved out.” You shrug, feeling a little ashamed because now he’s looking at you like you’re insane. “He said I needed protection and he doesn’t believe in mace or tasers.”
“Clearly you do!” He throws his hand up towards the door. “We’re going to the gun range today.”
“Jay!” You groan, nudging his leg with your foot. He grabs it and slides you down the couch. “I’m fine.” He just hums and leans over you, it doesn’t do much. Aside from shutting you up.
He’s staring at you, his eyes unwavering from yours while you can’t seem to settle on where to look. It’s making you nervous— he’s making you nervous. The proximity isn’t the biggest issue, no the issue is the fact that you don’t mind that he’s above you, his hand right next to your head, and for fucks sake his breathing is even.
“You’re going.”
“Yup,”
—
Weirdly enough, the shooting range wasn’t in some building. No, Jason had decided to drive the hour's ride to a private lot. While normally you don’t agree to be in the middle of butt fuck nowhere without your own means of leaving, you were willing to bend your rules this one time.
He has you help with setting up the cans and the body dummies, which are incredibly lifelike. A little creepy, but whatever floats his boat, you guess. He also puts up a new target sheet on a metal wall before he returns to hand you a handgun and ear mufflers.
“Don’t hold it like that,” He blinks as you’re pointing the gun directly at your foot. You’re not a fool, you’ve played a couple of shooter games before.
“The safety is on,” You justify but point it toward the ground instead. Just to keep him happy. He just sighs and grabs his own gun, pointing it toward the dummy.
“Stand like this,” He watches you from the corner of his eye as you mimic his stance. It’s a little uncomfortable but very technical. “A little straighter.” Fixing your posture he nods and drops his stance to adjust your grip on the gun. He takes your hands and adjusts them appropriately. “It’s not accurate for beginners, but I learned this way.” He explains as he steps behind you and lowers himself to your height. It’s hard when you’re not the same six foot-five that he is, but that’s neither here nor there.
With his line of sight that is the same as yours, he raises your hands a little higher and a little to the left. You trust his judgment, you’re no fool on how accurate Red Hood is with his guns.
It's silent, so silent that you can hear him breathing even through the heavy earmuffs. Whether you like it or not, you start to stop focusing on the task at hand and on him. He smells like your soap, too. It’s a little too domestic for the setting you’re in.
“Take it off of safety,” He instructs, taking two steps away. Doing as he says, you want to roll your shoulders back but you’re worried you’d lose the position. “Go ahead.” His arms cross as he stares ahead at the dummy and you catch the flex of muscle under his shirt.
Adjusting yourself as lowkey as you can, you close one eye and press the trigger. It's harder than you would’ve thought, giving you only a moment to back out. Following through, you let the recoil push you back a little before looking at the dummy. It didn’t hit the center of the head, instead grazing over the ear.
“Close,” Jason looks over at you as you’re rubbing your shoulder but stops when you catch him looking at you. “Again?”
—
“I mean,” One of your friends, Tasha, takes a long sip of her drink. “None of us wanted to say anything but Gina is a bitch.” Frowning, you push around your food with the back of your fork. What was supposed to be your friend group's monthly putting ended up becoming a major therapy session when they noticed that Gina wasn’t there.
“Yeah,” Dante gives you a sort of frown sort of smile. “But you’d been friends with her for longer than us, so it wasn’t really our place.”
“It’s crazy that it took her boyfriend trying to kill me to realize that, though.” It felt a bit weird, she’d always been in your life, and before the whole incident, you never would’ve thought you’d be without her. But life was the same, if not better with her gone. You didn’t realize how much you didn’t need her until now and honestly, you’re just upset it didn’t happen sooner.
Especially considering all of your other friends didn’t like her.
“Speaking of,” Alex cranes her neck to look at you. “Who’s Jason?” She grins as your eyes narrow. You’re not one to divulge about your life, especially over text.
“How do you know about him?” Setting your fork down, she snorts before digging back into her meal.
“Girl, I was the Uber Eats driver.” She explains and looks to the others who are clearly out of the loop. “My first order of the day, some guy named Jason with a blank profile. Whatever, right? I pick up the Ihop order— he knows your taste, cute.” She quickly adds. “And then, I get the address. I’m just thinking (Y/n) created a fake profile. Nah, bro!” She covers her mouth to stop her laughing and to stop any potential food from flying out of her mouth.
“I knock and this tall guy with this hot face scar opens the door. If he would’ve asked I would’ve taken the tip,” And she didn’t mean money.
“Clearly he already did!” Dante cackles, watching as you drown yourself in the soda you’d ordered. The others laugh while you have to do damage control.
“Jay’s a friend who happened to be in the neighborhood when Kyle was chasing me,” The three look at each other, ever aware of the fact that you’re staring at your plate while talking. They just assume the friend part is a lie. “And he spent the night. On the couch.” You add, looking at each of them to make sure that they understand.
“And ordered you breakfast in bed. And he left a hundred-dollar tip,” Alex swirls her pasta around her fork while the others gape at the news.
“Oh girl,” Tasha looks over at you. “He got a sister?”
“Too young for your old ass!” You laugh while she pretends to be offended. “His sisters are nineteen and eighteen.” You wondered if you should add Barbra to his list of family. But you think she’s more of an acquaintance than family. But you could be wrong.
“You know his family?” Tasha’s eyebrows furrow.
“I know of his family. Never met that before.”
“Ah, waiting for the one-year mark?” Alex nods as if she had caught the drift you are trying to get at.
“Oh my god,” Rolling your eyes, you lean back in your seat.
“What? You’re acting like you’re not attracted to that man. He’s fine as hell!” Alex pushes her hair behind her ear as she talks. “Might have to revoke your gay card.”
“I never said that, it’s just…” Rubbing your hands on your pants, your face scrunches. “He could be straight.” Now, you weren’t going to deny the fact that Jason was attractive. He was the embodiment of your personal preferences, but you were a chronic overthinker with these sorts of things. To the point where it needs to be spelled out for you to get any hints.
“He got you breakfast in bed.” Dante sounds out each word, putting an equal amount of extra emphasis on it. Just to make sure it really sinks in.
“I did that for you guys before!” You defend.
“Fine— fine, how do you know him?” Tasha asks and the others nod, happily awaiting your response.
“He comes into the shop every Sunday. He’s been coming for about four years, give or take.” You shrug and they blink at each other. This is why you’re still single.
“Isn’t he the one that bought you Five Guys last month?” Dante is now physically turned to you, his eyes wide and you grumble. You never told them about that.
“You’re lying,” Alex cackles. “That’s your man and you don’t wanna admit it. Five guys is expensive.”
“How about this?” Dante rolls his hand before you can even reply to Alex. “If one of Tasha’s friends got her an expensive lunch without asking, showed up to her job every single shift for four years, stayed with her after a traumatic night, got her breakfast, and didn’t leave until she was truly safe; how much platonic energy does that give you?”
“Not a lot, but—“
“Nah,” Dante holds your hands as he speaks. “I love you, so don’t take this the wrong way but you’re stupid as fuck. He wants you.”
“He wants the books I sell. And my friendship.”
“He wants to spread something other than pages.” He shakes his head and you snort. “Ask him out, if he says no. Then I owe you a grand.”
“You don’t have a grand.” You deadpan and he nods.
“I’m so sure he’ll say yes that I’m making that bet.”
“Fine,” You huff. “But if this ruins my friendship you all owe me lunch for a month.” Surprisingly, they all agree and you settle on asking him on the upcoming Sunday. So, the very next day.
—
“Why are your friends watching you?” Your sister asks as she walks behind you to grab one of the display books and swap it for a different one.
“Don’t worry about them,” You mutter, too busy watching the window; waiting for the motorcycle to stop in front of the store. She notices, of course, and stands behind you before deciding it was time to take her break and join your friends upstairs.
Eventually, you see his motorcycle pull up and sigh, fixing your apron but stop when you hear them snickering. This whole situation was stupid, that’s what you’ve decided. But you’ve made your bed, it was time to lie in it.
Jason walks in, his eyes immediately finding yours but you’re busy ringing someone up. He grabs the basket from the front of the shop and walks around the shop until he sees the line is gone.
“Jay,” You grin, holding onto the counter.
“(Y/n),” His eyes focus on your hands for a second before he grabs a chocolate from the basket. Glancing at your friends, you fix your posture and reassure yourself. “Anything new?” Typically, you’d already be talking about what’s new but there’s just this hanging silence.
“Nah,” You shake your head but still double-check the inventory log. “But we’re getting some um… science fiction stuff next week.” He’s not too big on those, maybe once in a blue moon he’ll actually buy one. He goes to talk but your phone dings before he can open his mouth. Watching as you grab your phone, your eyes scan over a text before you huff and silence it.
“I heard about…” You trail into a whisper. “The Riddler kidnapping, you okay?” Not the best way to lead into asking someone out, but hey. Could’ve been worse.
“I’m fine,” He nods. “Arms a little sore but I’ll live.”
“Long enough to go on a date with me?” You ask, a bit quicker than you intended but thankfully your words haven’t jumped up. He laughs, his eyes closing and you falter, glancing up at your friends for some type of support.
“That was a bold transition,” He settles himself down. “When are you free?”
“Oh shit, for real?” You grin. “I’m free Monday. Or whenever you are, really. My shifts are pretty flexible,”
“I’ll pick you up Monday,”
“I asked you on the date,” You huff. “I’m picking you up.” He crosses his arms and his eyes lower into a sort of unamused expression.
“You’ll pick me up, from Gotham?” He asks, just to make sure you know what you’d be signing up for. Truthfully, you hadn’t. And as such, you weigh your options— you don’t even have a car to offer to pick him up in. Damn.
“Fine, Monday at eight.” Giving in, he nods and glances around the shop.
“I don’t need a book today, see you tomorrow.” He looks you up and down, this time you watch as his eyes slowly drag down and tilt your head.
“Looking like you already wanna kiss me, Jay.” You joke as his eyes reach yours again.
“Since you offered.” He grins and sneaks one single kiss that lasts less than a second.
“I get off in thirty,”
#x male reader#x reader#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x male reader#red hood#red hood x reader#red hood x male reader
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✦ MARLEY AND ME →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER FOUR
pairing: modern!ellie williams x single mom!reader
summary: you’re a single mom just doing the best that she can to make ends meet. ellie can’t help but think that you're the kindest, most beautiful girl that she’s ever met. compared to taking care a little girl that's in her terrible twos, coming to terms with the fact that you’re a lesbian is a walk in the park. awkward first encounters, ellie’s broken gay-dar, and her overwhelming urge to take care of the care-giver. . . the road to domesticity is a long one, but it’s well worth the pining that it takes to get there.
warnings: eventual substance use, no use of y/n (you have nicknames/petnames), the reader is marley’s biological mother, talk of coming to terms with ones sexuality, mention of a shitty baby daddy ( though there is no co-parenting between them), ellie is a total girl mom, lots and lots of fluff, ellie is an anxious dork in this fic, reader is broke but happy, ellie takes pride in being a provider, this is going to be a multi-part fic, ellie is an absolute simp for the reader since chapter one and will remain her #1 fan.
The knock on the door is to the tune “Head Over Heels”- or at least you think it is. Ellie doesn’t have enough time to fully get through the chorus before you’re yanking it open, cheeks flushed all pretty and eyes wide. They glitter in the dim sunlight like jewels, staring up at her like she was the one that hung the moon. Ellie’s got that same dumb look on her face; mossy eyes wrinkled at the corners from the force of her smile. You would never know that she’s been up since seven o’clock in the morning, cramming for an exam that she had aced. She’d talked to Joel for the fifteen minutes that it took to get to your house, bragging on and on about how much easier it had been than she’d initially thought that it would be.
He let her brag. Of course he did. She wasn’t quite as talkative as she had been when she was a teenager, but she was still famous for her little tangents. Joel was good at listening, and Ellie? Well, she was a professional yapper. It was a match made in heaven.
Ellie smells like lavender, musk and patchouli incense. The scent of it clings to her hair and clothes. She’d mentioned a couple of times that she was a daily smoker, but she made sure to go out of her way to never smell when she was over at your place. The thought of your daughter cuddling to her when she smelled. . . funky made her cringe.
There’s a moment of appreciative silence as she stands on your front porch. The two of you just stare at each other, breathing the scent of each other in. The novelty still isn’t lost as far as your courting goes either. You can’t imagine the nervous butterflies ever going away. They’ve made a cage out of your ribs, fluttering away madly in your chest.
“Hey,” She breathes through her smile, her eyes dancing over your features. “Did I miss anything exciting?”
You look absolutely exhausted. Gorgeous, but exhausted nonetheless. Ellie has noticed that you do a very good job at putting others' needs before your own. You’d been at work for two whole hours before Ellie had even woken up this morning, and now you felt like you were on autopilot. You’d walked to your mom’s to pick Marley up, gotten her bathed and dressed in little play overalls and now the two of you were spending some quality time together. You could barely keep your eyes open, and yet you knew that you wouldn’t be able to get your screaming toddler to sleep for at least another three hours.
“Marles and I are making homemade play-doh right now,” You opened the door wider, tempting her into the house with a sweet smile. Who was Ellie to deny you of all people? “She’s been excited ever since I told her that you were coming over.”
Marley had taken to Ellie like a bee to honey.
The college student hadn’t had too many opportunities to be around children- especially ones as young as Marley was. She was unfamiliar with the tiny sticky hands, drooly mouths and unpredictable attitudes. Still, she was a natural. Marley gravitated towards her. Ellie was sure that the constant presents and sweet treats buttered her up, but she would be selling herself short if she claimed that those were the only reason that your daughter loved her so much.
Your three year old babbled from the kitchen, excitedly trying to piece together a sentence. Ellie closed the door behind herself, only to sweep you up into a bone crushing hug. Your laugh was muffled by the fabric of her soft cotton button up as you nuzzled your face into her neck. Closer, closer, closer. If she could absorb you into her body she would. It was hard to describe the level of admiration she felt for you. It was too early to classify it as “love”, but she supposed she did love you and Marley. Being in your house, as small as it was, felt right to her.
“I missed you.” You mumbled, arms fastened tight around her waist.
She barely had enough time to brush a gentle peck to your lips before Marley was bounding around the corner, bare feet slapping against the linoleum floors. You’d recently learned that wearing socks wasn’t a good idea. Your poor little girl had slipped and fallen far too many times for your liking.
Marley had become more comfortable in her body, which meant she was now running, jumping and climbing. Just a year ago you had been relieved that she could walk by herself without you holding her hand, and now keeping her off of your furniture was an impossible task. Nothing had prepared you for the constant changes that came with motherhood. You blinked and suddenly she was sassy and genuinely funny. She complimented you when you were wearing something unusually flashy and wanted you to put blush on her while you were getting the both of you ready so that she could “look like mommy”.
You never expected anyone outside of your family and close friends to appreciate your daughter in the same way that you did.
But then there was Ellie.
Self indulgent. Waking up this happy felt sinful.
Your fingers gently glide over her gentle planes and curves, making a map in your mind of every inch of her. Each freckles a continent, each line a river.
You didn’t want to wake Ellie, too frightened that you might break whatever magic spell was currently suspended in the air between the two of you. This moment between you felt too good to be true, and that scarred little voice inside of you that you loathed so much was begging you to enjoy this while it lasted.
You were always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Happiness was fleeting. You felt like you didn’t deserve whatever was going on between the two of you. Your entire identity for the last three years has been summed up in a singular label: “ a mother”. You were a sexless, wantless, selfless creature meant only to teach and please. How dare you need a night off. How dare you choose yourself over an abusive relationship. How dare you need, want, desire, change.
But this? This was nice.
No, it was better than nice. Great? No. . . It was perfect. She was perfect. And that terrified you. Ellie scared the absolute shit out of you, and yet you couldn’t take a step back. It was like you were falling head first for a very, very long time. The ground is nowhere in sight.
You were free falling and you had no clue where you would end up when all was said and done. It felt selfish to put so much effort and care into so many new things at once. Especially since those new things could shatter your heart into a million pieces at any second. You knew that Ellie didn’t owe you anything. She was nice enough to give you a chance despite all of your faults. Your baggage had become too heavy for you to hold at times, so how could you ever expect someone else to help pick up the slack?
You weren’t even sure what the two of you were doing together. The two of you hadn’t put a label on your relationship, but she’d brought you flowers yesterday when she popped by for a movie night. She’d even gotten a small bouquet for Marley, who was far too small to appreciate them for longer than five minutes.
Ellie wasn’t your girlfriend, but she’d slipped Marley’s shoes on for her before you’d all left the house last night to pick up dinner. Ellie wasn’t your girlfriend, but she’d spent the night with you last night in your bed. Ellie wasn’t your girlfriend, but she’d held you all throughout the night.
She didn’t even try to get handsy at all last night, probably having seen the exhaustion written all over your face. She kissed you because she wanted to show you affection. She held you because she wanted to be close.
What you didn’t know was that Ellie felt the same way that you did. She was lost as to when to ask the dreaded “what are we?” question. The thought of pushing you away or losing you was agonizing, so instead she had deluded herself into thinking that she didn’t have to define things. It was clear that she liked you, right?
She’d never felt this way about anybody before. This wasn’t like any other crushes she’d had in the past. She felt fresh and new. Ellie even felt like she looked a bit different when she looked in a mirror. There was a glow to her; a sense of happiness that wasn’t just rare for her but something that she had once deemed an impossibility. She felt changed for the better.
It was easy to love Marley. It had happened naturally- like breathing. You don’t have to remember how to breathe. . . it just happens. With you it was different. Obsessive, maddening, all inhabiting affection. You’d wrapped your dainty hands around her heart tight, tight, tight. Every skip and butterfly is a gentle reminder that this was something. The both of you are something, and that is enough.
She smiles before she even has her eyes open. She can feel your fingers on her bare arms, and for a second she ponders whether or not she’s in heaven. . . or perhaps still dreaming. Waking up in your bed, the scent of your shampoo on all of the pillows and your soft hands on her- she could die right there, your room, her tomb. The headboard, her headstone.
“Are you real?” She whispers, her voice hoarse and still thick with sleep. She’s looking at you with those great, big green eyes. Your eyes are glued to the small collection of freckles just above her top lip, but you hear her.
“M’ real.” You mumble out a confirmation, propping your head up on your hand so that you can lean over her. You know your hair is a mess. . . but she’s studying your face with a silent sort of appreciation that has your throat feeling thick with emotion.
She’s soft. Ellie’s soft and wants to take care of you. She showers you and your daughter with affection without ever having to be asked to. Why? Because she wants to do it. You find it hard to believe that anyone would want to go out of their way like this. Especially for someone like you. You were a young mother who hadn’t gone to college. You lived in a tiny house, operated paycheck to paycheck, and had a few stretch marks on your tummy. You weren’t perfect. Not like Ellie deserved.
So why was she looking at you like that?
Oh god, how she stared at you. Her eyes were velvet soft as her eyes flickered over your face, taking in every feature. She’d never woken up next to you before. Your bedhead and glassy eyes had her heart blooming with warmth. The ceiling fan had a few strands of your hair falling into your eyes. She took the opportunity to tuck them behind your ear, feeling the softness of your skin. She committed that to memory too.
“I really like this.” Ellie finally admits, bottom jaw quivering a bit. She fiddles with her fingers under your comforter, a nervous habit.
“What?” You ask her incredulously. If Ellie’s eyes weren’t open she’d still know you were smiling. She could hear it in the way you spoke, and it had her seeing stars. And Ellie really, really loved stars. “Looking at my bedhead? You better not take any pictures.” You were already smoothing your hair down with your hands, brushing through a few tangles.
She caught your arms, shaking her head the best she could with it still resting on your pillows. “Waking up next to you. Being here with you two- this is really nice.” It was more than nice, but she didn’t want to scare you away by coming on too strongly.
You opened your mouth, getting ready to agree with her, but the familiar sound of tiny feet had you sitting up fully so that you could turn and face the doorway. You shot Ellie an apologetic smile, but she merely shook her head, sitting up as well with a small smile. She didn’t seem burdened by the existence of your daughter, which was something you weren’t used to.
Marley’s hair was an absolute disaster, per usual. It looked like she’d been caught headfirst in a tornado,wispy hairs bobbing as she shuffled closer to the bed in her footie pajamas. She had insisted on wearing them last night despite the fact that it wasn’t exactly cold enough for them. Her cheeks were pink and it was obvious that she had sweat in her sleep last night. You felt a tinge of guilt for letting her get her way, praying that Ellie didn’t think you were a bad mother for giving in so easily to her sweet demands. Sometimes it was impossible to say no to her.
She stood at the side of the bed for a few seconds, eyes still half lidded and dazed with sleep. For a second she just stared at you and Ellie, as if trying to connect the dots that someone else was in your house. It was incredibly unusual to have guests over at the house. . . well, that was before Ellie. Marley climbed up onto the bed, pushing away your eager hands when you tried to reach out for her.
Your little girl was headed straight for Ellie. You bit the inside of your cheek, feigning a look of jealousy when Marley wrapped her tiny arms around the other woman’s neck. Ellie’s eyes widened as she held the small girl to her chest, cheeks growing warm when she realized just how much your daughter liked her. She wanted to blame the constant presents and sweet treats, but that wasn’t the case. Marley loved Ellie because she was patient with her. She took the time to sit down with her, ask her questions- hell, Ellie even played with her, which your own mother often wasn’t in the mood to do.
“I can’t believe you, Marles.” You gasped out, nose wrinkling in faux dismay. You rubbed her arm up and down, trying to gently get her attention. Marley looked up at you through her long lashes, plopping her head down on Ellie’s shoulder in a very dramatic, very Marley fashion.
“She chose me fair and square.” Ellie boasted, using her hand to try and smooth down her crazy bedhead.
You took a mental picture, eyes pinching at the corners with the force of your smile. Marley had curled herself up into a ball and didn’t seem prepared to budge any time soon. Ellie didn’t even attempt to hand her off to you. Instead the woman stood up with a small groan, her black sweatpants hanging low on her waist. You tried not to stare at the exposed flesh of her stomach as her tank top rode up but failed miserably. The brunette turned her head to face you, having felt the heat of your gaze, and the both of you exchanged a knowing smile.
“She has her legs pulled up to her chest,” Ellie said with a chuckle, her arms secured tightly around your child. “You’re like a little potato.” She pressed a quick kiss to Marley’s hair when the tiny girl started giggling at the comparison.
“M’ not!” Marley squealed, sticky hands tanging into Ellie’s cropped hair. You watched as she gave her hair a tug, your stomach tensing in panic.
You started to stand up, ready to scold your daughter for her rough treatment, but Ellie was already walking down the hall. You sat in disbelief for a second, questioning whether or not you should go in and check on the two of them. You so rarely had time to yourself like this. It felt wrong to take advantage of this opportunity, but you had a feeling that Ellie had done this on purpose.
Was she trying to drop hints that you looked bad? You were absolutely exhausted last night, so you wouldn’t be surprised if your face was a mess and your clothes in disarray. You anxiously raked through your hair, kicking the tangled sheets off of your legs so that you could run to the nearest mirror.
“Are pancakes for breakfast alright?” Ellie had ducked her head back into the bedroom, a beaming Marley still propped up on her hip. You jumped at the sudden voice, glaring in her direction as she chuckled at your expense.
You weren’t used to being so hard on yourself as far as your appearance goes. Impressing people, these days, was the last thing on your mind. Ellie felt the same way though. She’d be a liar if she said that she hadn’t checked herself out in the mirror you had in the living room, anxious that she looked like hammered dog shit after drooling all over your pillow.
The weight of your head on her chest had her sleeping like a damn baby last night. Marley had acted as a wonderful distraction from her own embarrassment, especially when she realized the back of her hair was practically sticking straight up.
What you didn’t know was that she’d never spent the night with a girl. Not romantically, at least. The both of you were in the exact same anxious boat, and while Ellie knew that she was your first, you had no inkling that you were a lot of her firsts as well.
“Pancakes?” You parroted back to her, wetting your dry lips.
You began tallying up totals in your head, trying to figure out whether or not you had the cash to grab breakfast. You would like to treat Ellie and Marley. . . but after paying the water and the power bill two days ago, you barely had enough to put gas in your car. You felt your cheeks heating up as you tried to come up with a nice way to say “I don’t have the money for pancakes” without sounding like a shitty adult and an even shittier mother.
Ellie could see the way you were over thinking things, her eyes nervously flickering to your closet. You only had a few articles of clothing for yourself, and yet she’d never seen Marley wear the same outfit twice. She’d seen you with your calculator at the grocery store, nervously staring at a total. She knew that you weren’t financially secure- you were a young single mother. The brunette smiled at you, shoving her hands in her pockets as she leaned against the doorframe.
“I make really good pancakes, and it looks like you have everything I need. Marley would be an amazing help too. She’d make my job a lot easier.” She rocked back on the heels of her gray socks, biting the inside of her cheek as she looked at you.
You looked nervous, tired, and adorable as hell. Your band t-shirt was rumpled with sleep and you were standing in tiny white socks, all self conscious and overly critical. She wanted to kiss you… but she hadn’t brushed her teeth.
“Let me go ahead and take her to the bathroom first,” You ran through your daily checklist in your mind, though not forgetting to flash her a thankful smile that nearly had the girl’s legs buckling. “Oh! Uh. . . I have an extra toothbrush. You can have it. Do you want to use the restroom first? It’ll give me some time to get her outfit together for the day.”
Ellie wanted to be selfless and tell you that she didn’t want to go first, but her breath was probably stale and the last thing she wanted was for you to be grossed out by her. She couldn’t fuck this up. She refused to.
You found Marley in her bedroom, having already strewn toys around the room. You let out a small huff of breath, realizing that today was probably going to be a rough one. Each day was different with your little girl. One day she was a perfect angel, only doing what she was told. Other days. . . well, rambunctious didn’t fully encompass her level of energy. Today was going to be one of those days.
“Alrighty, Marles! Let’s pick out a pretty outfit, alright?” You started to walk to her closet, but froze as she began shaking her head. “You don’t want to put on a dress? Or what about some overalls so you can play better?”
“No!” She screamed, running to the other side of her room so that she could grab a few more stuffed animals off of her bed. She tossed those on the ground too, even going as far as to plop down on the floor.
You had hoped that Ellie wouldn’t see this. At least. . . not so soon into the relationship. If she couldn’t accept Marley on bad days like this then you knew she wasn’t the right person for you, but still- you had hoped to slowly introduce this lifestyle to her. Not flat out throw her to the metaphorical wolves. Or. . . to Marley. You felt your bottom lip quiver, but you caught it between your teeth, giving it a few nervous chews before you sat down next to her.
“Do you want to stay in your pajamas?” Your tone was nothing but loving and patient. You were used to this, but Ellie wasn’t. You could only pray that she could accept you. All of you.
“Yes! Please, mommy.” She was getting better at articulating her thoughts and feelings. You found it impossible to deny her when she spoke to you like this. Especially when she asked politely.
So you found herself nodding, flashing her a megawatt smile that she happily returned. You could make a special day out of this. Pancakes and pajamas? It sounded heavenly.
“You’re so polite, baby girl! Alright, we’ll stay in our pajamas today. How about that? And Ellie said that you’re going to help her make breakfast. Are you going to be a big help?”
“Yeah.” She replied, already focused on the baby doll in front of her.
Her hands were still stained a little pink from making the play-doh last night. Once she remembers that she has that to play with too, you can only imagine the mess she’ll make on your dining room table.
You’re beautiful and patient. Ellie watches the two of you interact from the hallway, her breath all minty and her smile all wide. She thinks that she can live like this forever.
And she prays that she gets to.
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#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x you#college!ellie williams#the last of us x reader#the last of us x you#the last of us x y/n#the last of us#tlou fanfiction#tlou#tlou x reader#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams fic#ellie williams angst#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams smut#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us x female reader#the last of us fic#tlou part two#the last of us part 2#tlou2#tlou ellie
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radio check
for the love circuit series
—ignored by his driver academy, driving a shit car, and a dnf before turn one. zak has enough to deal with and you are the perfect outlet.
zak o'sullivan (f2) x fem!race engineer reader
warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex, semi-clothed sex, workplace romance, creampie, hair pulling, slight biting
a/n: starting a series when i have another ongoing? more likely than you think
"Zak, wait—"
The driver brushes past you as you attempt to stop him, wanting to have a brief word with him before he goes back to the F2 paddock. An exasperated huff escapes you as his figure quickly saunters down the pitlane, ignoring you.
You try your best to understand. His race was over before he even got past the first turn.
"Zak! At least tell me what happened." You try once more, catching up to him. You glance back at the pit wall where Victor's race engineer and Sébastien are looking on worriedly. You flash them a thumbs up and make a mental note to shoot them a text that you'll keep Zak in line long enough for him to at least toughen out the debrief.
"Shouldn't you already know what happened? You're the engineer," Zak deadpans, avoiding your eyes and weaving through the people in the pitlane.
You draw in a long breath and grasp at his arm, making sure to dig your perfectly manicured nails into his skin through his suit. Just to prove a point. Mustering all your might, you maneuver him off the actual pit straight and toward the back of the garages.
No words are uttered as the two of you walk further and further away from the track, both of you aware that there is much to be said, about each other, to each other, to the team.
You drop his arm and try to shuffle ahead, wanting nothing more than to get to the truck quickly so no one has to see the daggers you're staring at each other.
You yank the truck door open as you walk up to it. You step aside, turning to Zak who's giving you a less-than-pleased expression.
"Get in," you practically bark. Zak makes no protest and steps in, you following close behind.
The door closes and Zak lets out a frustrated sigh. He sinks into the small couch, hunched over and head hanging low.
"What's going on?" You ask, standing over him like a mother admonishing a child. He doesn't say anything and makes no move to look at you.
You let out your own breath and rip the headset off from around your neck, dropping it onto the small coffee table situated in front of the couch. You study your initials etched on the headset for a moment, reminding you that you are his engineer, you are his guidance. You start to think if maybe you've failed tremendously at just that.
"Zak," you begin, cautious in your approach. "Did you know you jumped the start? You've never made these mistakes this year. What changed?"
For the first time since you got to the truck, Zak raises his head and looks straight at you, expression stony.
"You're really going to ask me that?" Zak returns almost petulantly.
A scoff escapes you. "I'm asking because I want to help you."
Zak suddenly stands, startling you as he crowds into your space. He's so much taller and he practically looms over you. You can feel the anger simmering off him.
"Tell me. Where's Franco right now?" Zak asks plainly.
It clicks in your head faster than you can anticipate. Of course. It's about that.
"Zak, that's out of your control." You attempt to take on an appeasing tone. "If Williams wants to rush your fellow rookie up into Formula 1, that's their choice."
"I was one of those choices, _______," Zak insists, running a hand through his already disheveled hair.
You give him a long, hard stare. There's a crease between his eyebrows, his lips drawn together tightly. He's breathing hard and a vein pulses in his neck. Normally, you'd allow yourself to admire just how handsome he is right before or after a race. You're not blind and you're not going to deny yourself the simple pleasure of admitting that, yes, Zak is attractive. And he's kind, oh so kind, thanking the team, thanking you even when his race weekends don't always turn out the best.
But right now, with everything that went down in the sprint, it hardly seems appropriate to daydream of such things.
"I don't want to burden you with advice and solutions when you clearly need something else right now," you begin. "Why don't you just take a minute and we'll talk later."
Zak doesn't seem pleased with this. He lets out a sound of disbelief, turning his back to you and pacing around the cramped space.
You get it. He wants to fight. He wants to prove a point.
"Zak," you say a litle more sternly. "You can't let yourself make these mistakes just because you're mad at your driver academy."
"I know that!" Zak bellows. You flinch, taking a step back. He's never raised his voice at you, or at all, in the time that you've known him.
He curses under his breath, pressing his fingers into his eyes. "I'm sorry," he says. "I don't know what's happening to me,"
A pinch of sympathy blooms in your chest and you approach him, arm outstretched. You lay a reassuring hand on his arm, squeezing gently. Zak exhales, dropping his hand from his face to look at you.
You've seen this look before. And you're not going to lie and say you haven't looked at Zak. As in really looked, eyes wandering where a race engineer's shouldn't, especially not towards their assigned driver. Perhaps a large factor in this is that you're close in age, something you never really see in these situations, with most engineers having a full decade on their drivers or at least a few years.
It's not ideal and it's not allowed.
"You will get there. Properly. In your own time," you say. "I'm sorry if I can't get you out of whatever you're feeling right now."
Zak steps closer and you already know what it is he's asking. You wind your arms around his torso, letting him engulf you in a hug, his face burying itself in your shoulder.
You haven't hugged like this since Monaco but even that was different. That was a happy hug, a shared victory. This just feels like you trying to keep him together, holding literal pieces of him in your hands so he doesn't implode on himself.
"Can you...can you stay here for a bit?" Zak asks against your shirt and your resolve is immediately softened. You run a hand up and down his back as if to soothe him.
"Sure," you agree, pulling away. You hold Zak at arm's length, observing him.
He avoids your eyes still and you can see his jaw clench.
So he's still upset.
"Zak."
His eyes meet yours and the air shifts. You're still holding onto his arms, anchoring him to you. Zak glances down at your lips and a small gasp escapes you.
Surely, he isn't thinking of that...?
"What do you need?" You ask.
It's an innocent question. Zak is in pain, though not physically, but you know he must be seeking comfort somehow. But there's a hidden hope underneath your offer. That maybe he'd say he needs you, more than a driver needs their race engineer. It's a stupid kind of hope, bordering on delusion, but you hold on to it the same.
"I don't know," Zak says. This perplexes you for a moment but then you realize that he must not know or at least doesn't want to voice out what he really means.
You can feel it in the way his hands hover awkwardly at your sides.
You reach up and take hold of one side of his face. Zak's eyes immediately close and he inhales. His jaw ticks yet again.
"Let me," you whisper, letting your other hand settle on his neck, just above his race suit collar.
There's a flash of confusion in Zak's eyes as he opens them and you think that maybe you've read it wrong, Maybe you're crossing a line that's not worth it at all.
But Zak's own hands settle on your waist and before you can second guess yourself even more, you lean up, nearly on your toes as you meet Zak's lips with your own.
The spark is instant; Zak pulls you flush against him and immediately licks into your mouth, groaning when you so easily let him. Your fingers fumble at the zip of his suit, yanking it down as you attempt to unclothe him as fast as you can.
"Bathroom," you urge, pushing him off before tugging him further into the back of the truck.
It's barely wide enough to fit you both but you figure that doing it in the open, where all the team members gather, would be too much. You're not that shameless.
The bathroom door slams shut behind Zak and he wastes no time pressing you against the sink, the counter digging against your tailbone. All discomfort is forgotten, however, when Zak pushes a knee between your legs.
"You really know...how to...make me feel better," Zak manages between heavy breaths and wet kisses against your neck. You suppress a moan, unwilling to let him know just how much this is affecting you.
"Of course," you breathe out. "I know you."
Zak returns to your lips, hands slipping beneath your ART uniform, fingers expertly unhooking your bra from behind. You whimper when you feel it come undone, Zak already groping you beneath the fabric.
"How far?" Zak asks, voice quiet, hands stopping their movements.
"What?" You ask in a daze, the question not quite registering.
"How far will you let me...," Zak trails off. His eyes seem clearer now, as if it's dawned on him what the situation is.
He's about to fuck his race engineer.
"All the way, if you want," comes your immediate reply. And you mean it. You want it.
Zak's eyes zero in on yours. "Yeah?"
You nod. "Yeah."
There is no hesitation in the way he discards his race suit and bottom fireproofs, elbows banging against the door and the wall as he tries to rid himself of all the barriers between you and him. You're pressed up against him as you undo your own pants, shimmying out of it and your underwear at record speed.
A startled cry escapes you as you feel yourself lift off the ground but you're immediately appeased when you feel Zak's firm arms beneath your thighs, gently letting you down on the sink countertop. You laugh in disbelief and for the first time this weekend, you see Zak crack a genuine smile before he leans in to retake your lips in his.
You shift around uncomfortably as the cold tile presses against your bare skin but you halt all movements and thoughts when you feel Zak press two fingers against your aching core.
He rubs at your wetness slowly, almost lazy in the way he swipes between your folds. You shiver under his touch, forehead resting against the side of his neck.
"You don't have to be so careful," you quip, smiling as you tangle your fingers into his hair. Zak's laugh rumbles through and you pull back just enough to look at him.
"But I need my race engineer," Zak teases back with a grin. "I don't wanna hurt her too much."
You burst out laughing, circling your arms around his neck. A few seconds pass by with the two of you just staring, taking a quiet moment to let it all sink in.
"You won't," comes your reassurance. "I can take it."
Zak's bottom lip slips between his teeth and his eyes darken at your encouragement. Your heart pounds as he pries your legs apart, reaching down to angle himself with your entrance.
You grip the counter below you as you lean back against the mirror, mewling, Zak's length pushing into you. You catch Zak glance down at where you're joined and he quickly curses, averting his eyes, as if the mere sight of his cock sheathed inside you would push him to the brink.
"Please," is all it takes from you for Zak to slam his hips against yours. Over and over, he pulls out and pushes back in, the sounds obscene in the cramped space of the bathroom.
He braces himself against the same mirror, which you now notice has fogged up. Your legs lock around Zak's waist, caging him in against you. It's effortless, how he holds you in place, pinning you down with his weight, his other hand gripping at your hip. Your eyes roll back into your head as Zak loses all inhibition, fucking you as if it's his last time doing so.
Zak glances at the mirror and trains his eyes on your face right after. He takes hold of your jaw, imploring you to look at him.
"Stand up," Zak commands, already pulling out. The abrupt stop jars you but you obey nonetheless, shakily sliding off the counter.
You gasp as Zak quickly turns you, pressing your front into the sink. He reaches over and wipes the condensation gathered on the mirror. Your reflection stares back at you, Zak's broad figure a contrast from behind.
Almost instinctively, you bend over, watching the mirror in fascination, as if mesmerized at the image playing out.
"Good girl," Zak praises, slipping back inside without any resistance. Your mouth falls open as he continues, both his hands now keeping you in place by the waist.
You practically collapse against the sink with how hard Zak is going, your knuckles turning white as you hold on to the edges of the countertop.
Zak doesn't seem pleased with this and you're abruptly yanked back, the sting in your scalp eliciting a moan from you. He twists his hand even more in your hair, forcing your head back.
"Zak!" You cry out, body nearly going limp as you're overwhelmed from all sides. He's still slamming into you, his arm now circling your torso to keep you still, his other hand pulling at your hair.
"Needed this," Zak mutters straight into your ear. "Needed you."
You whimper, forcing yourself to look in the mirror, meeting Zak's eyes through the foggy reflection.
"You have me. You can have me. Always."
Zak grunts, your words seemingly spurring him on as he loses all control now, the rhythm he set up gone as he chases his release.
"How do I get you there? Tell me what you need," Zak urges through gritted teeth. You guide his hand down to your core and he understands.
Both of you forget to suppress your noises, using each other to reach the edge. Zak's fingertips toy with your clit and your walls clench down tighter and tighter around his cock. You can vaguely hear Zak repeating your name over and over through the blood rushing in your ears and you're pretty sure your mouth is moving of its own accord, cursing and begging.
And all at once, Zak stills with a groan, teeth digging into the fabric of your shirt, almost painful as he finishes inside you. You grind against his hand, determined to get there too, and eventually your vision whites out and you cum all over Zak's length.
It takes a full minute for both of you to recover, you slumping over the sink, your whole body aching and stinging in different places. Zak rests his head on your shoulder from behind, his arms cradling you almost reverently.
You straighten up as best as you can, peering over your shoulder. Zak pulls out and quickly reaches over to yank a few sheets of tissue off the roll next to the sink. He hands them to you and you accept it with a giggle, wiping yourself clean.
You discard the soiled tissues before turning to face Zak fully. His hair is stuck up in different directions and his eyes are watery but so much brighter than an hour ago. He grins, leaning in.
He kisses you, all soft and bashful. You pull away, cradling his face in your hands.
"Better?" You ask, running your thumb over his cheekbone. Zak smiles, holding your hand in place as he leans into your palm. He kisses the inside of your wrist and you feel your heart come to a stop.
"Thank you," Zak whispers. You nod, offering another smile.
"Maybe we can debrief on our own over dinner later?" Zak hurriedly adds, eyebrows raised and tone hopeful.
"Sure," you answer before you can even really think it through.
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“Will, can I tell you something?”
“You can tell me anything.” He glances up from his clipboard, grinning wide and wry and sparkling. “Especially if it’s that you’ve got food.”
Nico knows his best friend, so he does have food; a pack of twizzlers the size of his face that he tosses, deliberately quickly, at his face, smiling to himself when he misses and dives down to grab it anyway. His clipboard clatters to the ground, pen bouncing after it, as he tears into it, inhaling at least ten twisty candies in half as many seconds.
“Gods, I love you,” he groans, mouth open like the disgusting mannerless loser he is.
Nico coughs. “Funny you should say.”
He’s spared from having to jump clear through the nearest window and landing right on his neck by the honestly uncomfortable noises Will continues to make — by the gods if he finds out it’s been another twenty three hours since William has eaten he is going to kill him and resurrect his skeleton for permanent manual labour — and instead worries himself with the first random task he sees unfinished. Do the kiddie Band-Aids actually need to be emptied from their boxes and sorted by size and vibe? No. But Will won’t stop him. And Nico needs, like, twenty minutes of recovery. So.
“What did you want to ask me, by the way?”
His mouth is still — somehow — full, so it sounds closer to whaa joo wanna asme. Nico, brave veteran that he is, feigns confusion.
“Hm?”
“Question,” Will swallows, an actual, audible gulp, gods, where have Nico’s standards gone, “that you had.” There’s the sound of joints cracking and a deep sigh, then quick footsteps, and then Will is in front of him, eyes squinted, mouth wide and crooked, leaning on the counter. He has been up before the sun and working the entire time, people pouring in and out like ants to an anthill, and Nico knows he has not rested, but energy still sparks all over his skin. He bounces, almost, from his frizzy ringlet curls to the balls of his feet, humming, twitching, moving.
“I.” Nico’s throat is dry, and his eyes move from the bandages, to Will, to the bandages. “Well.”
When Nico was a kid he would stutter over his words. He was a shit speaker. Bianca spoke four languages by the time she was six, and Nico could barely ever manage the one; he knew what he was trying to say, and he would say it, only somewhere along the way his brain sent the wrong sparks or maybe his tongue got twisted or maybe his mouth made the wrong shapes. Or he blended them all together, like ice sleet on helicopter blades, and everything left his mouth just fine but got smashed to bits in the air outside of him, never reaching his audience quite right. And then he was ten and everything he cared about was smashed to dust and he stopped caring about where the words got twisted and stopped relying on them at all, and stared, instead; glowered, let his face speak for him, even if they weren’t saying the same thing. It annoys everyone around him. It frustrated his mother and pisses off his father and annoys or frightens every other person around him, and everyone guesses, fills in the blanks, deciphers what he is going to say to make his presence just a little easier to bear.
But Will waits, rocking, as he always does, eyes flicking around the infirmary, a handwidth of space between them. Fingers, drumming on the curve of his thigh, too-big front teeth gnawing on his chapped bottom lip. Waiting. For the words, for the time, for the courage.
“I missed you today,” Nico blurts, and it isn’t what he meant to say, not by a long shot, but it’s an approximation and it will count. And Will is suddenly smiling, huge, too big for his face; beaming, brightly, beautifully. “I hate it when you work too long.”
“Yeah?”
Nico exhales, cheekbones ruddy. “Yeah.”
“That’s not a question, Neeks.”
“Oh, stuff it.”
Will laughs, then, and the room gets brighter, and Nico gets warmer, braver, and takes his hand. He walks even both out of the infirmary and Will goes willingly, even though there is work too be done, swinging their hands, and he talks, and talks and talks and talks, and then he waits, quietly, humming to himself, and Nico says nothing, although he thinks things, and Will acts like he has said them. And his palm is still rough and warm against his, and the sun is setting, and Will smells like artificial strawberry and lavender body wash, and Nico thinks, You can tell me anything, and he vows that he will. And he holds his hand, and squeezes it around his, and smiles, and waits, easily, contentedly.
#i love them and the way they are so suited for each other#pjo#percy jackson and the olympians#hoo#heroes of olympus#pjo hoo toa#nico di angelo#will solace#nico di angelo/will solace#nico di angelo & will solace#nico/will#will/nico#solangelo#fluff#100 ways#100 ways to say i love you#my writing#fic#longpost
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no chances | ellie williams
˗ˏˋ"scared yet?" ´ˎ˗
pairing: ellie x afab reader synopsis: you and ellie are on rival volleyball teams and your dangerously competitive nature gets the better of the two of you. warnings: 18+, foul language, sexual descriptions, men (the coaches), eventual smut (ellie n reader) i changed the rules a bit, ik liberos have rules tehy gotta follow but to hell w that for the plot author note: the name comes from the twenty one pilots song!! i lowkey had sm fun writing this, i watched womens volleyball as i did and yall....volleyball ellie has my heart fr. this is gonna be a series n im excited to see where it goes wordcount: 2k ishhh
ellie pressed her feet flat to the floor, eyes locked on the other side of the net. she was behind her usual middle blocker, her arms raised up to align themselves with her stomach, her hands interlocked and her thumbs pressed together. she waited patiently, the sweat dripping off of her eyebrow and down to the gym floor.
she sized up the team in front of her, ellie’s team played them often as they were rival colleges, especially for women's volleyball. her eyes scanned the team, the coach called a player in from the back row, the girl placed herself on the bench with a solemn look expression. that’s when ellie saw you emerge from the far side of that same bench, once previously blocked by standing bodies. she sighed heavily and muttered “fuck.” to herself as she watched you approach your coach. a pep in your step, and ellie rolled her eyes. you took the place of the previous girl in the back row, grinning ear to ear.
ellie was hoping you weren’t playing today, the amount of times you two had gone against each other was uncountable. both of you being exceptional liberos caused a rivalry of it’s own between the two of you to manifest over months. she couldn’t stand you and it was because you were just as good and just as passionate as she was but she refused to admit it, even to herself. despite your fierce competitive nature with ellie turning sour, you thought it was funny to taunt her. her expression would change in a heartbeat, and you knew it got to her before she composed herself. but you’d be lying if you said she didn’t get to you either because she most definitely did.
you caught ellie’s eye and waved teasingly to her, mouthing a slow and pronounced, “good luck.” and ellie darted her eyes away, not wanting to be distracted by you. she shook her head from the thought of you and heard the familiar smack of the serve from your team. the ball went up and over the net flawlessly. her team kept the ball up, passing it back over with ease and ellie glanced at you while you stared down the ball with focused eyes. your setter mistakenly hit the ball at an angle which sent you diving to the floor to keep it up, shooting it straight back into the air and the outside hitter sent it back to ellies team.
it went on like this for a while, sending the ball bouncing between the two sides of the court. the score quickly became nearly tied at twenty-two points. for a quick second, ellie caught you staring at her and her head cocked to the side, feeling her competitive nature step forward. “scared?” she mouthed tauntingly, a fake pout splayed across her face. focusing back to her team, ellie turned with the surge of confidence flowing through her, the ball came directly to her from the setter and she took her opportunity. from the back row, ellie jumped straight up, her hand connected with the ball with a hard slap, sending it flying right at you as if on purpose. she had distracted you well enough, you fumbled, the ball bounces off your hands and to the floor.
her teammates shouted in triumph, giving her several highfives and she looked back at you through the white net as they cheered, “sorry.” she mouthed again, her shoulders coming up to shrug dramatically. your face turned into a snarl, determined to do the same back to her. ellie’s team served next, shooting the ball up and over the net and it somehow went directly to you. you set the ball to your outside hitter beside you, and ellie heard you shout “back! back! back!” indicating to return the ball to you. with this ellie lowered herself, readying for a strong spike towards her head, she didn’t know much about you but she knew you didn’t miss.
as you jumped up, your arm swung back furiously but as your hand came in contact with the ball, you hit it lightly, barely tipping it over the edge of the net. ellie’s team was caught off-guard, missing the ball and letting it fall to the floor. ellie bit her bottom lip in frustration, resetting her stance and glaring at you up and down. your uniform was form-fitting, of course your black shirt standing out among your teammates making it all the more easy for her. you didn’t meet ellie’s gaze once while your team celebrated their small victory and that upset her more than if you had.
there had been times during previous games that you two had gotten in arguments across the court, resulting in sitting out for the rest of the game. “you did that on purpose!” ellie would shout, her finger pointed directly at you accusingly, stepping towards the net. “only because you did it first!” you would scream back, your teammate holding you back from approaching the net while ellie egged you on, shouting obscenities that you so kindly returned to her.
it was always childish arguments like this, and your teammates could feel the tension building on the court as the game went on, everyone was competitive but you and ellie took it to another level that made people uncomfortable. “pretentious bit–” ellie’s coach would approach her, cutting her off in fear of being disqualified. “oh, i'm pretentious?” you would bypass your team, walking up to the net furious. “you’re a fuc–” your team pulled you back and kept you quiet for the same reasons.
nearing the end of the game, ellie was sweating hard, her auburn hair sticking to her forehead from the hot gym. she watched as you readied yourself, your arms moving up swiftly and you flicked your head to the side to remove the hair that was plaguing your face. she was staring for a little too long, stuck in some kind of haze, her ears rang and her vision went fuzzy. her teammates moved in a blur around her as the ball landed on her side of the court and she snapped her head, regaining her focus quickly, moving her hands to set the ball. it fell short and ellie threw herself forward on her stomach to reach it. she managed to bounce it but not anywhere near where she had to, her teammate fell short to get it and it fell to the ground.
ellie cursed under her breath, bringing herself to her feet. she earned a look from her teammate beside her and she shrugged, annoyed. a dangerous look plastered on her face she scanned through the net for the black shirt. she spotted you fist-bumping the girl next to you and as if you felt ellie’s eyes on you, your head turned caughting her gaze. you smirked, a confident gaze settling over your eyes that ellie could see from afar. her tongue pressed against her cheek, trying to keep her cool like her coach instructed her to do. but as you two stared into each other you mouthed a steady, “scared yet?” a dumb look on your face as you mocked her.
ellie bubbled over, her hands balled at her fists and she stormed up to the net. her cheeks were on fire and her chest felt extraordinarily heavy. her coach was on his feet, but he couldn’t reach ellie in time before she opened her mouth. “you know what? fuck you!” she shouted, making sure you heard her.
you did, loud and clear. you practically fought your teammates to get to the net, only a few feet separating the two of you. your chest was heaving between the anger that filled you and the game you’ve been playing. ellie’s white libero shirt piercing your eyes compared to her team's mutual black shirts. “i didn’t do anything you didn’t fuckin’ do!” you yelled back with such aggression that it made your voice hoarse.
you watched as ellie’s coach grabbed her arm but she didn’t break eye contact with you, her hateful stare intensifying. her coach dragged her away and you turned, your heart beating even faster than before. “you’re out of the game, williams!” her coach tells her sternly, ellie tried to rebut but he told her to sit on the bench. she groaned, rolling her eyes and sitting down with a huff.
you watched as this happened a small smile crept onto your lips as she sat down, ellie never looking in your direction. your head turns to your coach who is approaching you. “you too, go!” the coach says with conviction, pointing his finger to the bench on your side of the court. your smile disappeared within an instant.
“i didn’t say anything!” you try to defend yourself, but your coach just shakes his head and repeats for you to leave as well. you throw yourself onto the seat, not daring to look at ellie for the rest of the game, and ellie avoids your gaze too.
the game didn't last much longer, within thirty minutes everyone was loaded on the buses to head back to their campuses. as ellie’s team waited for a few more people to show up on the bus, she sat in her seat to go home, wanting to desperately just forget this whole day so far despite her team ending up winning – just without her. the panging feeling of her bladder became too strong to ignore anymore and the bus ride back was over an hour. as her team celebrated from the seats, she snuck by and off the bus back into the building where they had just played.
she practically ran down the hallways to the nearest bathroom, pushing the door open and going straight to relieve herself. she heard someone in the stall beside her, it didn’t bother her until she was washing her hands and you came out of the stall. you stared at her in the mirror while approaching the sink next to her, remaining quiet.
you were wearing a large gray hoodie, similar to one that ellie has tucked in her closet somewhere. your hoodie came down below your shorts, hiding them. ellie felt strange seeing you this way, your usual hard exterior being present in your uniform. but looking at you now, all comfortable and sleepy, ellie felt a pang in her chest and before she could stop herself her mouth opened.
“sorry ‘bout that.” she spoke calmly, even though her stomach was turning over inside of her. you glanced at her, her usual black shirt replaced with a gray windbreaker and black sweatpants though her hair remained in the same half up half down style, her demeanor felt different but with your team losing, especially since you couldn’t even do anything, you were still angry.
“sure,” was all you said in response, turning back to the sink to finish washing your hands. ellies expression hardened, her arms crossing over her chest.
“really? you can’t just accept my apology?” her voice raised in defense, pivoting her body towards you.
“i don’t wanna,” you said, keeping your gaze on your hands in the sink, over washing your hands by a mile.
ellie shoved your shoulder, not hard but enough to make you look at her. “fuck you, dude!”
you shoved her back, your face growing hot because of her yet again. “no, fuck you, dude!” you mocked, your patience going thin and your heartbeat rising in your chest, heaving you pointed a finger in her face, continuing your rant. “you’re too fucking competitive.”
ellie scoffs and reaches up to grab your hand, lowering it down between you two. her breathing was getting aggressive with her anger, she moved her face closer to yours, not letting go of you. “me? have you met you!” she all but shouted in your face. you noticed just how close she was to you, breathing heavy and a daring look in her eyes. butterflies erupted in your stomach instantly, feeling so much anger towards the girl in front of you it felt overwhelming but this time you felt it between your legs. ellie could see your chest pounding up and down with force and in a weak moment she glanced at your lips.
when her eyes darted back to yours she found them bouncing between her eyes and parted lips. without thinking she quickly let go of your hands and brought them up to your face, pulling you into a deep, messy kiss.
the kiss intensified as your hands found her hair in a frenzy and you both exhaled through your noses loudly. ellies hands left your face, wrapping around your back to pull you against her. your body smashed into hers as she parted your lips with her tongue, slipping it in roughly. for a reason unbeknownst to you, you rolled your body on hers and ellie grunted into your mouth, though it sounded like she was stifling a moan.
she pushed your back to the wall, her tongue still flicking around your mouth furiously. her hands roamed your body, slipping beneath your sweatshirt. her warm hands planted themselves firmly around your figure as your fingers still danced in her hair. ellie bit your bottom lip softly, resulting in a moan escaping from your mouth and she gripped down on your skin.
the sound of the traditional goodbye honks from the buses separated the two of you fast. you looked to ellie with an unreadable expression who forced her eyes to be anywhere but on you. the realization slowly hit you and you jump past her. ellie turns her body, watching you run out of the bathroom and into the hallway. it only came to her then that the buses were leaving and she cursed before running after you.
you exited the main doors, throwing them open and not bothering to hold them for ellie who smashed through them only a few seconds after you. ellie came up beside you, panting from all the exertion and watched as the buses turned onto the street, leaving the both of you alone. “all my stuff is in my seat, fuck!” ellie remarked, her voice rising ever so slightly.
you sigh beside her, your tone filled with anger, “me fucking too.”
part two
#ellie williams#ellie williams x you#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x reader#modern!ellie#ellie williams enemies to lovers#ellie williams fanfiction
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you’re embarrassing me * ls2
it's never fun feeling like an outsider, so you'd sworn that nobody would ever feel the way you did all those years ago
pairings: logan sargeant x platonic fem!driver
notes: inthaf logan and femdriver live in my mind rent free like i love them and they are absolute best friends, your honour!!!
i might be at work today but you can’t stop me from thinking of logan hunter sargeant
| "wanna hang out?" | driver's parade | american burgers | american football | the thanksgiving incident | another williams adoptee | beating the heat | you’re embarrassing me | santa baby | the favourite driver | the situationship | it's nice to have a friend |
“happy birthday!” logan smiles, extending his arm to you. “sorry i’m late — i had to get benny to wrap your present.”
you look up from your spot at the other end of the table. you smile, putting your phone down. “oh, i was just about to ask you where you were. thanks for even bothering to get me something!”
you hop up from your position and push yourself through the rows of seats that are strewn lazily. “thank you.”
“of course,” logan smiles, wrapping his arms around you. he presses a kiss to your “happy birthday again. thanks for inviting me to dinner.”
“it wouldn’t be complete with you,” you giggle, pulling away.
it wasn’t until you turned back around to the table that you noticed that your friends were staring at you. alex’s jaw is dropped and george looks absolutely gutted. in the corner, lily and carmen are giggling to themselves while lando had his camera up and pointed at you.
“what?” you ask, scoffing slightly at the camera flash that goes off.
alex’s arm comes out to grab george’s shoulder. “she hugged him.”
you raise an eyebrow. “yeah, so?”
“you never let us hug you,” george says slowly, eyebrows furrowed in frustration at you being oblivious. “you damn near killed me the last time i tried to hug you!”
“yeah?” you hum, grabbing logan’s wrist to drag him along with you. “you sit with me.”
“what?” alex scoffs. “i’m sitting next to you.”
“not anymore. i’ve got a new favourite williams driver,” you beam, shaking his seat to get him off the chair. “and anyway, i already told you logan’s sitting next to me. you’d have bullied him all night if i don’t stop you.”
“and i told you first come first serve!”
“who’s the birthday girl? me or you?” you drop logan’s arm and put your hands on your hips. “who?”
alex starts to act flustered, slumping his shoulder and grabbing his cheeks with a smile. “you’re saying i can be birthday girl today? you serious?”
“ah, piss off!” you groan, shaking his seat again. when the thai doesn’t budge, you look over his head. “lily! alex is being an ass again.”
“alex.”
“yeah, okay. fine,” alex sighs in defeat, pushing himself off the seat. he turns to you. “you get a pass today because it’s your birthday. this won’t happen again, bro.”
logan giggles as he takes the seat previously occupied by his teammate. “what dish did you get? do you have a birthday cake?”
“no, we were waiting for you, silly!” you laugh and pick up the menu from the table and lean into him. “we also just arrived not too long ago. because somebody-“
“hey! it’s not my fault the uber cancelled on us!” george screams from your other side, reaching forward to hit you on the shoulder. “it’s not my fault!”
“it is,” alex sighs, shaking his head. he looks at logan. “this idiot forgot to tell us he booked a taxi — i was fresh out of the damn shower!”
“no, it was her fault!” george fights back, pointing at you.
at that point of the argument, you’d already drowned them out while you looked at the menu for something to order. you simply look up and press your lips together. “are we ordering cake?”
“absolutely! it’s a birthday, duh?” alex scoffs. “anyway, let’s take a picture so you can post it on your instagram about how great friends we were to you.”
you stare at alex. “sure. if you say so.”
you turn as lando gets up to ask someone to take a picture. “wait, your hair is messy,” you grumble, instinctively reaching out to fix logan’s hair. “how benny let you leave looking like this, i’ll never know.”
“what?” you hear logan mutter, pulling his head back slightly. “i did my hair. you don’t like it?”
“what?” you go up an octave as you try to laugh it off, retracting your hands. “no, it looks good.”
“but you said-“
“oh, look! lando’s found someone to take a picture,” you point over at the man holding lando’s camera. you dust off logan’s shirt and straighten it slightly. “look good — i’m announcing to the public that i’ve adopted you as my grid kid.”
“he’s turning 23 this year, you know that, right?”
“shut up, alex.”
#logan sargeant#logan sargeant x reader#logan sargeant x you#fem!driver#f1 female driver#f1 x you#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1#disneyprincemuke inthaf#logan sargeant platonic#disneyprincemuke 3k celly
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I just read your yandere cheerleader and I LOVE it.
when I finished reading it I had an idea so hear me out, what if as the reader goes to the games more often to watch the cheerleader they catch one of the players eyes and that player also becomes obsessed with the reader.
basically yandere cheerleader x reader x yandere player (idk what sport lol💀)
Prepare for trouble, make it double!
💌 ⤻ THE BASEBALL PLAYER, JESPER HARGREAVES ft. THE CHEERLEADER
—> when he hits a home run, he wants to run into your arms.
⤻ reader is gender neutral, reader is the same person as in THE CHEERLEADER drabble, mentions of stalking, territorial behaviour, obsession, possessiveness, jealousy
comments: my first ever anon ask, thank you so much for this! this is more of an introductory post to jesper but no worries, the rivalry between jesper and katie will be there! i decided to go with a baseball player and make him a bit of a ditz, I think it would be a nice contrast with the cheerleader. you're my first anon, so I really wanted to get this out fast for you! as usual, requests are always open so keep them coming!
🦋 ⤻ archives.
Jesper was a good boy, he truly was. If golden retriever was a person, it had to be him. After all, his job on the team was literally chase after a ball and hit it. In simplified terms anyway. He was a bit of an airhead, admittedly, his grades too low to get into your prestigious university, but thanks to the sports scholarship, he got into the university. He didn't really think much about the school. He found good teammates who didn't judge him for being an airhead. He was quite popular, not user popular like Katie Williams, but certainly popular enough to be invited to almost every party on campus.
Jesper was content with his life, truly.
That was, until you popped in.
He had heard rumours of you. Katie William's new plaything, the one she dragged around for almost every game. The one who, when questioned about her new beau, seemed a bit defensive and offended that anyone would even dare to inquire about her darling. He respected that, honestly.
Since he was a child, he found himself territorial about his things. His parents always scolded him for it, but he never grew out of the phase, so he understood Katie's apprehension.
That was that, that was where thoughts of [y/n] [l/n] ended.
✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧
That was, until this week's game. There you were, seated at the bleachers because Katie had dragged you over to another one of her games again, just so you could stare at her and so she could stare at you.
Katie also had a habit of dragging you down to the cheer squad to show you off, and that's when he first saw you. He was staring at the back of your head until...
You turned around, and your eyes met. His blue ones reflected into yours.
It felt like the world had stopped for a moment. Like he was a kid again, eyeing a lego toy he would beg his parents for as a kid. You weren't a toy. He knew that. There was one thing you and the toy had in common though, he wanted you.
When you went up towards the bleachers to sit with the rest of the common folk with your common clothes — you'd look so much better in his Jersey — his eyes raked all over you till it was time for the game.
He did exceptionally well. Home runs almost nearly every round. In his mind, though, he was going on autopilot. All he could think about was your hair... your eyes... how Katie's hands rested against your waist. He wished he could do that. Why couldn't he do that? Why did Katie have to do that in front of him? Was she provoking him?
The moment the game was finished, he talked with his team, with his coach and then turned towards the cheer squad where you were predictably talking with the ebony-skinned cheerleader.
"Katie!" He greeted her. They weren't close, but they were cordial enough to at least say hi to each other.
"Hello, Jesper." Katie smiled in return, a posessive hand gripped around your waist.
"And who is this lovely person by your side?" He asked, and Katie already knew his intentions with that question. They didn't know each other well, but the glint in his eyes was all she needed to know.
"I'm [y/n]." You replied with a smile, and you almost winced at how harsh Katie suddenly gripped your waist. You and Katie were friends so you never understood why she acted like this.
"Jesper. Nice to meet you. I've never seen you before, what's your course?" He asked, reaching out a hand to pat you on the back, hoping to just get a bit of physical touch between the both of you but Katie snatched you away first, smirking as she did so.
"You don't need to answer that." Katie hissed.
"No, no, it's fine." You replied, calming Katie down. "I'm in the [course name], I take an elective in history." You explained.
"That so?" He grinned like a fool, wondering whether he could sign up for a history elective in the future just so he could get together with you.
"That is so, and if you don't mind, we'll be on our way now." Katie replied rather harshly as she pulled you away, practically dragging you by your arms towards the rest of the cheer squad, away from Jesper. She shot a final glare at him, all while Jesper simply shot a foolish grin back at Katie; a challenge.
From that day on, your boring university life would be forever overturned.
"If I become the MVP for this match, do I get a kiss?"
#yandere male x reader#yandere male#yandere oc#yandere imagines#yandere fanfiction#yandere drabble#yandere#yandere baseball player#male yandere x reader#anon ask
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redacted headcanons wooo
some angsty, some cutesy, some whatever idk
elliott makes sunshine sleepy when they’re around him. not because of his powers but just because he makes them feel comfortable and safe. and being around him relieves them of the fear of having any nightmares again, because he won’t let it happen.
as the rest of the damn crew ages, gavin mimics the way they all age. wrinkling his skin, fading the colour from his hair, etc.
i don’t know much about plants but they can get sick right? like viral infections or something? anyway, one day, the plant that anton's love gave him was looking extremely wilted and anton sobbed practically everyday and poured his heart and soul into helping it until he was able to get it to recover again.
vincent was secretly envious of how well lovely seemed to be coping with their turning. not anymore though.
lasko's partner sleeptalks. lasko was shocked the first time they did it around him because it’s such a contrast to how quiet they are when awake.
sweetheart was in a rush to get to work one day and accidentally grabbed one of milo's shirts instead of their own. when they came home later on, milo realised they were wearing his top. ofc that awoke something in him and, since then, he’s had sweetheart put on multiple fashion shows in which they try on his clothes.
lasko's partner is the type of teacher who gives their students stickers and sweets, and they also doodle on any written exams when they mark them.
porter wasn’t alone when he was turned. he was with someone he cared about. and they cared for him. but they didn’t get turned. his maker murdered them and that’s why porter says “historically” it doesn’t turn out well for those who care for him.
the asset helps take care of anton's plant. they find actual biological life fascinating, and they can stare at a plant for as long as they like since it won’t get annoyed or uncomfortable like a human does.
gav stayed at the damn campus for longer than usual once and freelancer was left home alone with the time to over think and they ended up crying themself to sleep over their mortality and gavin’s immortality. gavin had no idea until they woke up the next morning. when they looked at him, he felt their core ache.
ever since angel tried on davey's clothes for the first time, david’s gone out of his way to hide angel’s clothes at times and/or “forget” to wash them with the rest of the laundry. and then he goes “oops guess you’ll just wear one of my shirts in the meantime…” with the stupidest smirk on his face ever
porter gets regular nightmares. from the trauma of his human life, the time with his maker and/or from the things he’s done for william. it’s the reason he says sleep won’t bring him peace, even though for most people, it would.
#if theres crossover w anyone im sorry i dont check these things#redacted audio#redacted asmr#redactedverse#redacted headcanons#redacted vincent#redacted lovely#redacted elliott#redacted sunshine#redacted gavin#redacted freelancer#redacted milo#redacted sweetheart#redacted asset#redacted angel#redacted david#redacted anton#redacted porter#redacted lasko
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