#but it was almost like a background noise i think

[josephquinnswhore]

the day your heart stops yearning - pedro pascal x female reader

summary: pedro is tired of the two of you dancing around your feelings for each other.

word count: 1.2k

content warnings: bitta jealously, insecurity from reader, mentions of sex, suggestive comments etc. Pedro is the loml I swear these new pictures have altered my brain chemistry.

Wrapping the towel around yourself tightly, you sit down as your swimsuit soaks through the material. Hair dripping wet and skin cooled down from the sea water. Pedro looked incredible, his hair wet and curly. Droplets of water running down his toned chest.

His board shorts tighten and stick to his thighs and crotch. Swallowing thickly, you help him put his sling back on to support his shoulder injury.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” His voice calls to you softly, drawing you out of your thoughts, every time you were with Pedro, you seemed to be lost in them. Somewhere far away from him.

There��s a moment's hesitation where you process what he’s said, reeling yourself back to the serenity around you. The two of you are on a small boat, surrounded by clear blue water, bright and mirroring the clearness of the sky. Not a cloud in sight.

There’s a formation of an unnaturally curved rock, shaped by erosion, perhaps the gods. The sight would’ve been worthy of such creation. Pedro was wearing nothing but his multi-coloured board shorts, and a deep blue sling.

“That doesn’t even come close to it. I can't describe how it feels to be here.”

With you.

But the words are lost, dying on the tip of your tongue as they had many times before. More often than not the two of you had done this, your own separate outing together aside from everyone, co-stars and friends.

“How’s your shoulder feeling?” The concerned murmur is met with a smile that he reserved for you. All teeth baring and eye wrinkles exposing themselves, the smile that reaches his eyes. His deep brown orbs aren’t much to be seen now, eyes squinted as he laughs.

“You’re worrying about me at a place like this?” He tilts his head, the one curl from his messy brown mop of hair falls onto his forehead, and he runs his hand through it, pushing the hair back off his skin.

He’d always found a way to lighten the mood, sending some kind of solemnness emitting from you today, he knew you better than anyone. The feeling had his insides clenching with anxiety.

It had been happening for years, the two of you having some unspoken moments where you couldn’t deny that there was a connection between you, something so effortless and heart wrenching at the same time. So many unspoken words and almost confessions.

“Hey,” he draws you out of your head again, lost in the fog of heartache and doubt.

He looked so good with Connie, that’s all you’d thought about since you’d flown to Malta with Pedro. They seemed so perfect for each other—the way he looked at her while he filmed their shared scenes. It felt real.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m just thinking about some things.” It was easy to brush off, or to pretend to anyway.

“Since when do you keep things from me? Somethings going on with you, come on, spill your heart to me honey.” Meeting his gaze, the brown orbs suck you into an intoxicating familiarity of the love you so desperately crave.

“Can this wait? I don’t want to ruin all of this.” Gesturing to the view, the lapping sound of the water against the side of the boat, the gentle rocking sensation sends your stomach spiralling into more unease.

“You aren’t ruining anything, talk to me.” Setting his can of beer down, he shuffles closer to you, placing his hand on your exposed thigh. “Talk to me.” He pleads again.

“I miss you.” The simply utter broke the silence between you, cutting through the background noise.

He knew what you meant. There hadn’t been much time for the two of you to see each other. Between filming for Gladiator II and the new Fantastic Four franchise. Yet—he knew it ran deeper than that.

You missed the picnics, the shared gazes of knowing and mutual love. The late night dancing and his hands running through your hair, the two of you unable to let go of one another.

The sex you miss, too. But not nearly enough as you crave for his skin on your own, for his hand in yours and his heart in your hands.

“Oh, sweetheart—“ he sounds so sweet, so sincere, but you cut him off anyway.

“Pedro.. don’t. We don’t need to do this today.”

He stares at you, wondering what’s happening in that head of yours.

“You know how I feel about you, right?” He murmurs, tracing unnamed shapes over your skin.

“I suppose so.” All he gets is an uncertain shrug from you.

He frowns, the stress lines on his face appear on his forehead. “My heart is yours, sweetheart.” He utters your name softly, fingers leaving your thigh to caress your cheek.

“What’s it matter how we feel? We can’t be together. You practically are married to the entire internet and it’s not practical for us to date.” Finally, he was getting to the root of it all.

“Fuck being practical,” he murmurs. “Tell me how you feel, just say it to me, I’ll do right by you.”

It feels like your throat is swelling up, preventing you from uttering the words you’ve longed to tell him for years. Somehow, you blurt them out in an anxious whisper.

“I love you.”

Before you could process the admittance of your love, he had pressed his own lips softly against yours. It certainly wasn’t the first time you’d kissed, but this time felt more authentic.

Your fingers caress his face, his facial hair tickles your fingers as you hold him against you, his nose is pressed into your cheek and it’s a little awkward. But your heart is pounding erratically in this moment, eyes closed and focusing on the feeling of his lips, his hand clutches the back of your neck.

After a few moments, he pulls away from you, pupils blown wide take up most of the mass around the deep brown iris. “I love you,” the whisper in return was made against your lips, his nose against your own.

“Tell me you’re mine, that we’re going to do this properly.” He pleads, he’s too close for you to look at anything but his eyes. The pleading gaze of hope in them.

“I want that, want you.”

The words aren’t lost on him, the entire afternoon is spent in seclusion, the two of you holding each other, kissing and wrapped around each other as if you were two halves of a whole.

Your fingers are white, lathered in sunscreen as you apply the substance on Pedro’s back. “We really should’ve done this hours ago.” You scold lightly, to which he laughs, shaking his head.

As you trace his back while you’re applying the sunscreen, making sure to cover all the freckles on his skin, and his arms as you trail down. Fingers running up the muscled limb as you return to the base of his neck to give a light massage.

He’s not subtle when it comes to how you made him feel, a loud breathy groan escapes his lips.

“Feel good?” The purr turns his cheeks red—he turns to you.

“Such a tease. If we weren’t in public you’d be in trouble.”

“Maybe we should head back to the hotel now then?”

He perks at your suggestion. The corner of his lip tugs upward in a slight smirk. Pleased with the idea of having you all to himself.

“My girls just got all the right ideas, don’t she?”

My girl—his girl. After years of pining and yearning over more from him, he’s given you the chance you’d dreamed of.

[ph6ntomm]

HARRY’S HOUSE MASTERLIST

── .✦ IN WHICH ... nico and y/n find themselves in many late night conversations.

── .✦ DISCLAIMER … this is purely fictional. this does not depict the reality of anyone or anything. with that being said, please do not use my work against anyone, nor should you apply it to any real life situations.

── .✦ DO NOT … copy, translate, repost, or put my work into ai.

── .✦ WARNINGS … a kiss.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

LATE NIGHT TALKING

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the warm atmosphere of the night encased you in a comforting blanket in the arms of nico, who was laid back against the headboard, you leaning into his chest.

the cheesy romcom that the both of you had agreed on 30 minutes prior provided great background noise. the couple was talking of marriage, which made you think about your future with nico. you wanted it all with him, marriage, a house with the stereotypical white pickett fence for your dogs and possibly even kids.

you looked up to him and took in the sight. the slope of his nose, the pink color of his lips. the slight stubble from his freshly shaved beard, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration, everything. his eyes glanced down at you for a split second and his mouth lifted up into a small smirk. “enjoying the view?” he teased with a small chuckle. your cheeks darkened slightly and you hid your face in his chest. he kissed your forehead ever so lightly that you almost missed it. his left hand was rubbing your arm slightly.

“whatcha thinking about?” he asked curiously after a moment of silence. you shifted your posture again to be more beside him and looked at him. “just us,” you replied. his eyebrows furrowed again slightly. “what about us? is something wrong?” he questioned, sounding a bit alarmed at the thought. “no! nothing bad, don’t think like that,” you replied with a small laugh. nico let out a sigh of relief at your answer. “well, then what?” he urged. “just.. our future. more so our wedding and.. stuff.” you responded.

nico’s face softened. “what? the movies got you feeling all sappy now?” he teased. you rolled your eyes and laughed, knowing that he was joking. after your laughter died down, he spoke up. “i do want to marry you, you know?” he stated. you looked up and met his gaze. a soft smile rested on his lips, and in return, you smiled too. “i know,” you responded. “good,” he mumbled before leaning in to connect his lips with yours in a sweet kiss.

[alluviia-writes]

NOISY NIGHT ,,

Leader x gn!reader Rating: T Type: Short Fluff Word Count: <1k [ See bottom for A/N and notes ]

Prologue: You're a tired fella, Leander comes to the rescue

"I'm asking you to trust me"

"Yeah of course." you twisted your body on the bed, wrinkling the sheets even more. It was full night, the ruckus outside the Wet Wick still loud and clear. You, unable to sleep, had started to think about your first day in Eridia. In particular, the time spent with Leander.

"I'm asking you to trust me," you repeated, his words echoing in your mind and cutting trough the unpleasant background noise. Was he really trustworthy? During your life you learned not to trust anyone, the closest people you had ended up leaving you in the same wastes you almost died in. "Fucking Leander," your eyes hurt.

"If you ever need a break from all of this, come to me".

Again, his words not yours. "Is it too early to ask for help?" you whispered to yourself, "is it too early to trust?" You scoffed, "of course it is, stupid."

1 AM. Eyes open. Limbs twitching. Sore ears. "Fuck this." You grunted. In order to feel comfortable you unbandaged your arms and hands, took off most of Kuras' clothes leaving you in your pants and the loose shirt. "The bartender should've had just knocked me out flat," you slowly sat on the bed, your consciousness hazed by tiredness along with that incredibly strong drink you had earlier.

As you made your way out of your room, you noticed that the tavern was full. Not like before but the fact that there was no place to sit nor stand and the counter said it all. The wooden floor was warm, not sure how given the weather but you found it pleasant. "Noisy bastards." You leaned on the wood railing, scanning the room only for your eyes to land on none other than the man of the hour, Leander, serving drinks.

Were you staring at him? Yes. Did you find him interesting and attractive? Yes, wait.

Your cheeks flushed at the thought, you quickly covered them with your cold hands. "Truth to be told, no one I met today was ugly," you told yourself. But despite everything, could you let your guard down?

"Y/n!" A familiar voice shouted from under you. "Can't sleep? Want me to sing to you or brew you something worth a knock out?" Leander... "Your Bloodhounds are noisy." You smiled. "Cut them some slack," he started walking up the stairs, "they've been working hard," he reached out for your shoulder, probably to rest on it, but stopped right over it, giving it a pat.

"So how are you-" your legs trembled and you almost lost balance due to the lack of rest, "ah careful," Leander wrapped one of his arms around you. "Let's get you to bed."

He guided you to your room, holding your hand. Your bare hand. It made you giddy. "There you go, rest up y/n," he smiled, helping you on the bed. "Wait," you held on his wrist with slight pressure, "stay." You whispered. "Please." Your brows knitted as his raised, Leander's face was crimson red, "oh y/n," his gaze softened. "Who am I to deny you company?" he intertwined his fingers with yours and took a seat on the edge of the bed, your head on his lap and your hands gently linked.

:

You cracked on eye open, sunlight filtering trough the window. You looked up and saw Leander, he never left. His eyes were closed, chest rising and falling calmly.

You wondered how he stayed comfortable the whole night, despite his back resting against the bed frame and his legs dangling from the mattress. One of his hands in yours and the other on your head, fingers laced in your hair.

You stared at his relaxed face, his dark circles prominent, his lips slightly parted. With your free hand you delicately reached out for his face, like the previous night... you were scared, no doubt. You trembled as you hovered his lips, "just a stroke" you thought.

"Good morning," a deep voice broke the silence and before you could pull away a calloused hand embraced yours, bringing his lips closer, leaving a soft kiss on your palm.

"Ah..." you face reddened still looking up at him from his lap. "Oh, my apologies," he looked away, with his cheeks now pink and his mouth curled in a grin. "I got too ahead of myself," he helped you up and stood beside. "I enjoyed our night, you must've been really tired, you never woke up." He smiled. "You didn't sleep?" You questioned. "Ah... about that, it's one of my many struggles," he giggled, "mh, thank you for staying with me, I don't know what came to me when-" ⏤ "whenever you want y/n" his smile seemed genuine, it made you feel warm.

"Now, I'll leave you to your morning routine while I follow mine." He shortly bowed, his hand leaving yours. "See you later..." you whispered, his warmth lingering on your body as the day started.

:

A voice reached your ears as you were walking near the Senobium, "If it isn't y/n," ⏤ "Hello Vere, Ais." You smiled at them and they returned it. "Care to join us for a walk?" Vere cooed stretching his arms, "they let me roam a few hours, shame." He smirked, "better than nothing," Ais joined. "What do you say Sparrow? Coming with us?" His eyes met yours. "It's gonna be fun~" the fox winked as you rolled your eyes, "sure why not." Hopefully you wouldn't end up drunk and wasted by the evening. But frankly, if that led to Leander taking care of you again, you didn't mind.

But even so... was Leander really the man he seemed to be?

A/N: Short fanfiction for the man of the hour

Notes: none

⎼ Alluviia Dividers by @cafekitsune

[ohmydiva]

#in this universe too, pt 1

synopsis . . . based on act 3 episode 9, ekko saves jinx and basically what could have happened during the timeskip, before the war between noxus and p&z.

words count . . . 2,257.

“i learned from someone very special,” he said softly, “that no matter what happened in the past—”

curiosity sparked in her, though not enough to make her pull her finger away from the trigger of the bomb. it was enough to make her blink, the effort almost foreign, as if her body had forgotten how to react to the simplest things.

“... it’s never too late to build something new.”

her gaze stayed locked on him, her lips twitching. a faint, almost imperceptible scoff tugged at her mouth, but she swallowed it down, too tired to entertain the thought of mocking him.

"wow, deep. are you writing fortune cookies now ?" was what she wanted to say, but her words stayed trapped behind her tired eyes.

her gaze flickered to the boy’s side, where something unfamiliar caught her attention. she glanced down at his new accessory.

a bag ? no, not really. it had small windows glowing faintly blue. inside, a shimmering ball floated in the center, casting a soft light that danced along the edges of the bag like a miniature sun.

but that wasn’t what made her breath hitch. it was the toys—those monkeys toys. the tiny, plastic remnants of her childhood, lined up like little soldiers inside this impossible machine. her breath hitched—those weren’t just any toys; they were unmistakably hers. indeed, they were perfect replicas, or maybe they were the real ones, somehow stolen from her.

what is that ? what’s his deal ?

he noticed her reaction, glancing down at his new invention before looking back at her.

eager to know more but not quite ready to move, the blue haired girl’s eyes scanned the boy, studying him. he looked like he’d just wrestled a tornado and lost. dirt smeared across his clothes and the blood marking the crease of his forehead caught her attention the most. then, his shoes, untied and dragging on the floor, looked as defeated as he felt. he was a mess. a total mess.

what did he get himself into ?—fuck it. just pull the trigger. the thought flickered through her mind, distant, automatic. who cares what this wannabe rebellion leader has to say ?

but something about the way he looked at her, all wide eyes and desperation, made her pause. like he knew. like he’d seen something she hadn’t.

say it.

he fumbled for words, relief flooding him despite knowing the situation wasn’t won yet. this was his best shot—he had to get it right, had to keep her attention. he couldn’t let her pull that trigger. couldn’t let her give up on herself.

fuck it, what do i say now ?

her finger twitched, the small movement betraying her desire for him to say something—anything—that could pull her back from the edge. she wanted to be saved. she wanted him to save her.

“what—what’s even preventing you from trying?” he asked, voice stumbling but earnest.

i’ve tried too many times, she thought, but the words stayed buried, tangled in the fog of her mind.

“look—” he cut through her thoughts, his words tumbling over each other while his eyes were wide, almost pleading. “i, too, think of the past, but i—i don’t let those memories control my future ! i have my part to play too—”

she blinked, but the words blurred into nothingness, her eyelids heavy as if she could no longer hold them open. the sound of his voice faded into the background, like white noise.

shit. she’s bored.

“everything that i’ve done, the firelights, that tree—i mean, just staying alive, i did it for everyone !” the boy’s voice cracked as he spoke louder now, desperation growing in his words with his hands moving in the air aggressively.

her eyes flicked to his hands, frantic in their movements. then back to him, her brow twitching with frustration.

say more.

“for… benzo, and for—” he hesitated, a sudden awareness dawning the boys stopped mid sentence, mentally slapping himself. he’d almost named the dead—her family. he didn’t want to tread on that raw ground, didn’t want to accidentally make it worse. but now it felt like he was suffocating in the silence between them.

her sigh broke the moment.

it wasn’t like she wanted to be interested—she lied to herself—it just ... happened. something about his words had a way of slipping past her defenses. no. it’s not like he knew exactly which threads to tug to make her listen. on the contrary, she still found the boy pretty cheesy … but that was probably it. it’s the boy, her old friend—her childhood crush—, not just his words.

she hated how easily he drew her in. yet, somehow, she also felt relieved.

“i did it for you too,” he added, his voice soft but steady.

how cringe.

her gaze lingered, her eyes tracing his gestures as if trying to piece together the puzzle of his sincerity.

she saw it then : his hand, cautiously extending toward her, palm up and fingers looking steady inside his thick glove.

her breath caught as the scene felt painfully familiar.

it was a quiet offering, no words attached, just a simple motion that carried more meaning than he realized. the light was different, the faces older, but the moment was the same. the memory hit like a punch, the scene overlapped in her mind, the past bleeding into the present : the same hand, years ago, reaching for her, trembling with unspoken words she hadn’t been ready to hear. she’d refused it then. turned her back. walked away to stay with silco.

she lifted her head, bringing her gaze back to his.

“last time i refused to take your hand, things didn’t end well, huh” she muttered, her voice tight.

taking my hand ?

she was mistaken. his hand had been outstretched not to pull her in, but to pull the danger away. to take the bomb, the burden from her hands before it consumed them both, again.

it was an awful realization—the kind that scraped against his chest and squeezed his lungs.

he chuckled, trying to ease the tension, his voice soft and playful. “so … you gonna let the boy-savior save you this time ?”

a short laugh escaped her—sharp, breathy—as she shook her head.

she reached for his hand, the bomb still in her grasp, before allowing the boy to wrap his hand around hers, instinctively pulling her closer before he could second-guess himself.

shit. too close.

their eyes met, the awkwardness hung in the air, thick and palpable, as if he’d made the wrong move, but couldn’t take it back now.

the proximity felt too much, too soon, and yet—there was something strangely comforting about it. neither of them spoke, the silence settling over them as their smiles faded. it was a closeness they hadn’t expected, and yet there was something oddly comforting about it.

panicked, the boy looked down at the bomb, still clutched in her other hand. he reached for it, giving her one last glance, a silent plea to let go. to let him take it from here.

slowly, she relented, handing him the bomb with a familiar pout curving on her lips.

“just, spin its head and take it off” she instructed, her voice slowly regaining its raspiness. he didn’t hesitate, the boy did so immediately, letting go of her hand.

now ?

he glanced around. the boy eventually walked away, inviting her toward her desk. every step was careful, like they were walking on fragile ground that might crack beneath them while the atmosphere was still pretty awkward.

"you know," he started, his voice nervous, but sincere. “something crazy happened to me ... you won’t believe it.” he caught her eye for a second, then quickly looked away, the tension still palpable.

“oh yeah, what kind of crazy, ekko ?” she smirked, her voice teasing, as though mocking the awkwardness between them. her tone had finally returned to that familiar rasp, distancing herself from the vulnerability she’d just shown.

ekko’s eyes lit up.

for a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to dream and maybe, the friendship—and little romance—he enjoyed with jinx in an alternative universe, could still happen in this one.

[desultory-novice]

What were Adeleine and Noir’s parents like

Sorry to hold onto this ask for so long! I've had trouble shaking this weird self-conscious streak that's made it tricky to share my non-art but today seemed like the right day for it.

-

So, I feel like there are two types of parents in OC land: bad abusive parents the OC has to get away from and good parents who die tragically early in the OC's life.

Neichel Fontaine, songstress of the New World, and Rim de la Ride, peregrine Prince of Ripple Star, are definitely the later.

Though, thinking about their personalities, they were probably not like, fairy-tale perfect parents! ^^; Neichel came from a rough background on Shiver Star to start, and due to her career as an agent of government propaganda, had a lot of her empathy stomped on and ground up in order to survive under strict regulations... Till she met Rim, who taught her there was soooo much more to the world–to the galaxy–than just humanity in their darkest days. This didn't lead to Neichel rejecting humanity though! She learned to see the beauty of what her own species had to offer through him.

Rim, meanwhile, is positively filled to the brim with heart (and attuned strongly to Heart Matter, as all fairies are) and almost can't help himself from caring for literally everyone! However, he's perpetually clumsy (like his sister, the Queen of Ripple Star) and a hu~ge cloud cuckoo lander. Fairies are almost identical to humans externally, but they're without a doubt an alien species and there was a lot he did not know about humans (especially raising two little ones >w>) in his job masquerading as a lab technician.

Rim and Neichel were probably the kind of first-time parents who would slip into a minor panic attempting to do some VERY basic baby-rearing task, and (after a bunch of frightening machine noises) finally emerge from the dust and fire with a single (!) bottle of baby formula, smiling at each other with that wonderful new parent glow~ before one thinks to ask, "...Wait. Which one of us has Noir?" "...Oh. I thought you...?" and, screaming, run back inside the smoking kitchen because they realized they left him in the chaos omg!!

...It's a bit of a miracle little Noir survived childhood, honestly! They got much better at the parenting thing by the time Adeleine was born. Not to mention that Noir was -instantly- won over by his adorable baby sister, so his constant questions to them on how he could best take care of little Adeleine helped train his parents to be a little less ditzy and more on the ball about child-rearing as well!

TF when you are born into the role of being the sibling-parent XD

Neichel was the most actively protective of the children, having all the reason in the world (rightly so...) to think that they were pretty constantly in danger: from the New World government, from the agents of Lab Discovera, from the seedy underbelly of Shiver Star...

She never forgot the haunting words of the scientists that day toward her children and kept a close eye on Noir especially (who even the lab had consigned to leave solely in her care from very early on) which in turn lead Noir to becoming a bit of a mama's boy. Her death devastated him in the kind of way that there simply is no words for... The fact that Noir grew up in a world where his mother was considered a traitor and a pariah and he had to play along with the popular opinion of "Neichel" for their safety hurt him a lot...

Neichel sang to both children, frequently, and gave them lots of motherly affection. Noir's habit of letting Adeleine sleep on his lap while he brushes her hair is his mimicking something she used to do for the two of them...

He took his interest in the stars from his father though! While Noir was a mama's boy, Adeleine was absolutely papa's little girl~

(Coincidentally - or anime genetics - each sibling resemble the parent they were closest with: Noir has his mother's warmer skin tone and thicker, faintly brownish hair while Adeleine has her father's straight dark hair and paler complexion. They both have their father's distinct violet eyes, a hint to their heritage as Ripple Star royalty.)

Apologies Adeleine is on the autism spectrum (the reason why she was soo gullible to Noir's kinda painfully obvious lies; why she took his words about "forgetting their past" overly literally; how she could live for years focused on her art without realizing that she wasn't getting any -older- during that time...) so her father's alien-spaciness had a strong appeal for her! He adored her too because they had that shared "Isn't humanity weird and fun?!" (autism + alien = handshake) and she absolutely ate up all his stories about fairies and magic and other planets! She especially loved his stories of what it was like on the fairy home world of Ripple Star and she dreamed of seeing it and all the other fairies one day!

As such, Adeleine is basically having the time of her life in the present, getting to see fun planets similar to the ones her father spoke of and even winding up with a fairy as a best friend!

Clumsy and spacey as Rim was, as much of a total devoted malewife (1) as he was (even with his perpetual clumsiness, he was simply better suited to certain household chores) as mild and polite to everyone as he was, Rim was a strong papa bear figure too!

As much as it hurt to have to make the worst call a parent can make to their children, that being the one he made as he lay dying (Neichel was killed first... Arguably, Rim's fairy constitution kept him alive a little longer) his last act was to call Noir and warn him what was coming, giving the young Noir enough time to trash his father's research, shut down the house, and make it appear like the kids had ran while hiding himself and Adeleine till the first wave of danger was over.

(It was enough time to hide, but enough for Noir to properly grieve? ...Alas, no.)

As mentioned above, present-day Adeleine no longer remembers her parents that well thanks to Noir's insistence, as well as the shock-inducing trauma of their death, and the scary things that followed. Noir does recall them (though he doesn't remember the more...magical aspects of their family) but he doesn't like to talk or think about them.

Even with odd quirks like him spending his first few years growing up in a highly controlled lab environment (which he didn't seem to mind?! Making friends with his fellow the lab animals) Noir and Adeleine did have a happy childhood with them. Which is what makes the way everything came crashing down all the more traumatic....

-

(1) Rim and Neichel were very much in love btw. Neichel's life was quite dark when she met Rim, and he gave her, well, everything she simply could not see in the world. He restored her faith in all of it and kept her grounded, despite his fairy wings fufu~ For Rim, it was love at first sight, and the more Neichel bloomed around him, the more he found himself unable to draw away, despite the fact that he was in the Earth system for a valuable mission. (O-Oops...!)

[kenobihater]

of all the star wars movies, which of them do y'all 1) enjoy the most 2) consider the best quality and 3) think you've rewatched the most. add your answers in the reblogs or replies, i'm genuinely curious how much of an overlap there is within everyone's three answers. mine don't overlap at all! they're revenge of the sith, empire strikes back, and the force awakens :^)

[raycatz]

I'm not including a situation where someone might be injured because in that case I'm thinking the bed goes to them by default or they are nominated for it. anyone who wants to be chatty goes to join the living room floor gang.

What are your thoughts and headcanons? Do you have thoughts on how the boys tend to approach assigning beds in inns? Who do the chain choose to sleep near when camping and why? What are their dynamics like when settling down for the night and getting ready for the day?

In "Mirror Vs Open Closet Door: Fight!" by Gintrinsic (here) Four refers to the chain's decision on how to split up between inn rooms as the "Link-per-room ratio" which I find very funny. He, Sky, and Time also talk about their thought process behind why they do or don't want to sleep in a room with some of the others which I find fun and interesting.

So! If you have thoughts and want to share them! *gestures to the post!*

[raptorrobot]

do you have a voiceclaim for icarus? im rereading violent sun and found myself reading his dialogue in patroclus' voice from the hades game

FUNNILY ENOUGH patroclus hadesgame was a huge contender for his voiceclaim when i was figuring it out (had the perfect amount of 'old tortured homosexual' energy i was looking for) but i ended up landing on idris elba in the end for his voice <3

enjoy a voiceclaim reel i made a little while back for him !

[princessmyriad]

.

[itspileofgoodthings]

there’s a certain white noise quality Taylor’s biggest hits (and to some extent all her songs) adopt after a while because they’re just SO MUCH part of the culture and the media etc. and we encounter them everywhere and it’s magical when that obfuscating veil drops for a second and you can hear the song as if for the first time

[calico-kiwi]

i never thought i’d find myself unironically listening to asmr that wasn’t along the lines of rain sounds, and i definitely didn’t picture myself enjoying it to the point where I’d actively look for it, but i actually really like millie’s asmr streams

like i’m boutta fall asleep, i’m so relaxed. i think ima put these on when i’m boutta go to bed to help me

[eyivibyemi]

✧ I won’t really write descriptions for these, but see original post tags for explanation/commentary on the song snippet ✧

[victoryrifle]

now that the mummy and the mummy returns are on netflix again i play them just because so often that the people at netflix must think i’m insane and with a severe attachment issue to these movies. which wouln’t be wrong

[certifiedyapperx]

imagine you’re dating ghost and no one knows. the two of you have kept it a secret on your end and his just for your protection— because ghost knows what could happen if someone finds out, how someone might try and target you to get to him, or worse, given his line of work.

but then imagine that he’s on a mission, interrogating some piece of filth ready to decorate the fucking wall with his brain matter when the guy says “you know what, simon, killing me would be the biggest mistake of your life.”

immediately ghost would pause, eyes narrowed, though his hardened demeanour wouldn’t fade much, he’d just blankly stare at the prick like “oh yea? n’ why don’ you tell m’ why.”

the shit-eating grin that would crawl across that fuckers lips would have ghost ready to kill him right then and there, but then he’d say “reach in my pocket. pull out my phone.”

id like to think ghost would have absolutely none of this assholes bullshit, not at all entertained by his theatrics. i’d like to think he’d just press the muzzle of his gun to the fuckers temple within an instant, all teeth barred and ready to get it over with when the guy would add,

“your girlfriend is a fucking beauty, isn’t she?”

everything would pause. ghost, time, the world, air, the universe itself—the life that would drain from ghosts face would almost be enough to make his alias a reality. his heart pounding in his throat, his fingers fucking trembling as he immediately reached into the assholes pocket to find his phone—a picture of a woman tied up (face not in view however) lighting up on the home screen. there’d be no thinking rationally, no thoughts in ghosts head except for making sure you were fucking okay. he’d do whatever he’d have to do, kill the guy, leave him strapped there, whatever—he���d be out of that room in two seconds flat and personally flying the helicopter back to your house calling you nonstop every fucking second until you answered.

“hello? si?”

he’d wait a second before answering. taking everything in. background noises, the inflection of your voice. it sounds calm, maybe too calm? he’s grasping his phone so fucking hard it’s a miracle it hasn’t shattered between his fingers.

“princess,” he breathes, fighting with everything in him to keep his voice steady. “see any birds today?”

though it was a genuine question, it also was an established one. ghost had set up a series of questions for a situation precisely like this. if you said blue jay, it meant you were fine, at home, as usual. if you said crows, it meant you weren’t.

“oh just the usual blue jays, si.” he could almost hear the smile on your lips. “everything okay? i miss you.”

ghost would exhale a shattered breath. “i’m coming home.”

and then he’d show up, not all but a few hours later, hands still trembling slightly, heart rate still struggling to regulate. it was too much, reminding him too much of his past traumas, he knew he needed to find better protection for you, but that was a conversation for another time.

he’d come in the house, barely even taking the time to shut the door behind him, almost frenzied again, relentless, unable to relax until he could finally lay eyes on you. and then, the second he did, he’d just pause and look at you, all messy hair and pyjamas still on, in the kitchen cooking breakfast for you both since you knew he was on his way.

and he wouldn’t say a goddamn word, he’d just come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you so tight you’d hardly be able to breathe, his face buried in your hair and his heart thumping at your back. you’d feel the pain the fear the anxiety radiating off him and you wouldn’t try to say anything because you knew he needed this, you knew he needed to see you, hold you, feel your pulse stable and alive. you knew he just needed a moment to breathe.

and so the two of you would stand there like that for a while, and then he’d take a big inhale and spin you around to face him, pulling up his mask to plant soft kisses on your jaw.

“i love you so fuckin’ much.”

[fushitoru]

finish her! a toji fushiguro oneshot

pairing ⸺ wrestler!toji x reader

summary ⸺ you will have to face one of the most formidable wrestlers in history in your next match: toji fushiguro. but don't be confused, this isn't normal wrestling⸺no, it's nude wrestling. and winner gets the spoils of the other's body! (extended ver of my toji drabble here) creds to @/reynisxxsimart on twitter for art!

warnings ⸺ nasty, NASTY smut, VERY public sex, WWE but pornhub edition, you’re a wrestler fighting toji, so some violence but nothing graphic, fem!reader, HUMILIATION, degradation, you're literally fucked in an arena of people, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spanking, oral sex (f! recieving), boobplay, very inaccurate depiction of wrestling/WWE, not edited we die like toji

a/n im going to sit in the corner and think about what i just wrote

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

the muffled sounds of the crowd’s deafening roar seem to swirl in the space around you, each cheer vibrating through your chest like distant thunder. you take a long, cool sip of water, a welcome contrast to the warm air backstage. lounging back, you let the chair support your weight, your muscles still humming with the residual tension of anticipation. utahime’s fingers work into your shoulders, and her voice filters through the buzzing atmosphere, calm and steady as she gives you a rundown of the night ahead, though her words seem to blur slightly at the edges—just background noise to the constant hum of adrenaline.

“in front of a crowd—do you understand? and the rules are no fucking, unless all clothes are off first.”

“right,” you affirm, albeit hesitantly. you’re feeling a bit jitterish in anticipation of what’s to happen, despite having trained months to hone your ability as a wrestler. look, wwe itself can get really suggestive at times, with people giving wedgies, removing certain articles of clothing, or even letting the crowd cop a feel of the defeated to serve as humiliation. not only does it improve publicity, but it also increases viewership of all the horny bastards on the internet to circle the televised clip around in their subreddits or discord servers.

but what you were going to do today—that was a bit…extreme. it was like bridging the gap between soft core and hard core, with the humiliation turned up to a hundred. because today, you were going to wrestle the man that all female–and male–wrestlers could even dream of having their hands on, even if for a slight moment.

toji fushiguro.

a man of impressive build—entering a ring with him only meant defeat. he’s had numerous career wins, far exceeding any other. hell, you shouldn’t even be matched to wrestle with him today; he outweighs and outranks you by far. the only thing you really have running for you is the sheer amount of fans you have, ready to tune in to your fights and edit your moves and time spent in the fighting ring to songs like “chun li” and “maneater.” so, sure, you don’t exactly anticipate a win today in that stadium that’s waiting for you, but you’re no less of a wrestler in your own right. you won’t go down without a fight.

however, today was no normal fight. the wwe had suddenly decided that their viewership was too low, that extreme measures needed to be taken to boost. so, ironically enough they had decided to change the rules just before your momentous match:

all wrestlers must consent to having all and any articles of clothing removed from their person, particularly for sexual intercourse as a reward for the winner.

so, WWE (Pornhub’s Version) (In The Vault). 

and your luck dictated that this paradigm shift for the organization occur just before your most anticipated match with toji. again, you knew that no amount of training could prevent you from getting utterly humiliated, but it was almost like the gods were laughing down on you, eager to rub in your impending defeat once more. because you were going to get your shit fucked up—-literally.

“it’s going to be fine,” utahime assures you, and you snap back to the present from your thoughts at the sound of her voice. “just think about the publicity this’ll get you! not that you don’t have any fans of yourself, but there are going to be a lot of people tuned in because of fushiguro.”

you take an inhale in and nod. “yea, that’s true. i just want to get it over with.”

as if answering your prayers, gojo satoru, the mc, burst into your dressing room. “it’s your time to shine, buttercup!” he grins, ushering you out the door. albeit a bit nervously, you stand up and make your way into the hallway that leads directly into the middle of the arena. “you’re going to do great!”

as soon as you walk closer and closer to the arena, the screams get louder and louder, the music booming and causing the floor under you to vibrate. the sounds of people surround all your senses, wrapping you up and causing your heartbeat to go faster and faster. 

reaching the end of the hallway, the arena is filled with light, and you have to blink to get a hold of your sight. surrounding the center boxing ring are stands upon stands of people, hustling and bustling. at the sight of you, cameramen stationed around in various spots through the arena furiously angle their cameras towards you. not only are journalists and the media snapping pictures, blinding you with the flash, but you see yourself displayed on the big screens visible to everyone in the arena. you smile and wave, causing your fans to scream as they register that you have walked in. 

then, a realization washes over you. these are the same screens that are going to be projected whatever's going to happen during the fight and when you lose.

oh god.

you walk forward, trying to keep up your smile and wave to all of your fans that outstretched their hands, trying to cop a feel and/or get a high five. most of your fans are male (to no one's surprise), and you can feel their eyes roving over you appreciatively, taking in your outfit. it was simple and tight; shorts that just barely covered your ass and was snug around your hips, and a low cut top that couldn't even be called a top. your cleavage was on full display, and the top stopped just below your waist. typically, this is your wrestling attire you wear to a normal match, but you couldn't help but wryly notice that today, your neckline was cut lower than usual. the wwe was really trying to milk this, huh?

you stood just below the boxing ring, eyes anxiously scanning the arena, unconsciously searching for the man you were set to fight. but no matter how hard you looked, you couldn't spot his tall, muscular figure either in the ring or in the seat he was supposed to occupy with his manager.

a light tap on your shoulder startled you, and you turned to find utahime behind you, a concerned look on her face. "everything alright?"

"yeah," you said, waving her off with a forced smile. "but where is he?"

utahime pointed toward the boxing ring, and then you saw it—a glimpse of black hair.

"alright," you said, swallowing nervously. "i'm heading into the ring. wish me luck."

"wait!" utahime called out, but you were already too far to hear her. gripping the ropes at the edge of the ring, you hauled yourself up and strode toward the center, determined to get a better view. and there, just on the far side of the ring, hidden from your previous angle, was toji fushiguro.

he was lounging back, relaxed, his posture almost lazy as he faced his manager, shiu kong. you couldn’t see toji's face from this angle, but his body language indicated that he was the epitome of ease. shiu was saying something to him, and from your best attempt at lip reading, you could just make out the words, "don't break the rules today."

toji, on the other hand, didn't seem to be looking at him (giving 0 fucks, something so classically toji), focusing now towards the big screens everyone else saw in the arena. you turned your gaze towards them as well, only to be taken aback when it was you, a compilation of your best moments in the ring, narrated by gojo.

“and today, fellas, we’re going to see the bombshell y/n—the maneater, as coined by her fans—-competing! while her opponent is fushiguro, don’t be fooled—she can pack a mean punch. look at this fight with mei mei; she sweeped the floor with her face!” 

satisfied, you looked around, the arena bustling with people getting drinks, being enraptured with your fight on the screen, or pointing at you or toji. toji, on the other hand, was chuckling and shaking his head at your fight, observing as you gave the bitch mei mei a wedgie. which kind of made you flustered, because you had developed a crush on the guy observing him from afar or in passing, so you just focused on shaking out your legs and arms in nervousness.

gojo similarly announced toji’s fights and compilation, gassing him up for the crowd and it was then that toji finally turned around, uninterested in whatever was going on, and caught your eye. you stared back, breath held involuntarily. 

his eyes had a predatory glint to them, and he smiled, charmingly in a way that showed off his scar, and they scanned up and down your figure, taking in what you were wearing—or rather, letting his imagination run. nervously, your heart sped up as you clenched your thighs up in anticipation or anxiety, you couldn’t choose which, as your mind began running at the speed of light thinking about what was going to happen today.

today, you weren’t only going to wrestle toji fushiguro. you were going to fuck him.

but you’re jolted out of your thoughts as gojo’s obnoxious voice blares through the speakers. “give it up for thee wwe goat, toji fushiguro!”

screams reach an all time high as his smirk is broadcasted to the audience, biceps bulging and flexing as he heaves his way up on the ring, joining you. he waves lazily, roars at an all time high as he stalks his way to you, and you squeeze your nails into your palm out of nervousness.

when gojo announces your name, the male screams rise up in volume, causing you to giggle and fushiguro to roll his eyes from what you can see in the corner of your eye. you give a dainty wave, choosing to wink and blow a kiss to the camera in front of you, causing your fans to scream even louder.

“you sure got a lotta fanboys, darling.” you jump as toji has now bent down to whisper in your ear, literally sending shivers down your spine.

you force out a laugh. “and you're at no shortage of fangirls yourself, fushiguro.”

he gives you a nonchalant hum, assuming his original position. as gojo continued to yap about the stakes of the round today, the recent rule change, a referee walked over to you both, coming in closer so that you would be able to hear him over the chaos of the arena.

“so, you’re both aware of the rules, right?” he both looked at you, to which you nodded and toji’s smirk widens. “you gotta get the other’s clothes completely off, and the first one to do that wins.”

you gulp, eyeing what toji was wearing today. it was his signature garb, the one he wore to almost every match without fail: grey pants with various sponsorships sewed on, and a black compression shirt. it was definitely very minimal compared to what a lot of the other wrestlers wore, but it was iconic, giving him a lazy, laid back aura that no other wrestler could truly emanate.

it wasn’t anything hard to take off in particular.

both of you affirmed your consent to the referee, who then took a step back after wishing you both good luck.  you turned, facing toji face on, who had his hand on his hip. “try to last long, okay?” he smirks, patting your shoulder with his other hand. “i’ll try to drag this out as much as i can, but it’s gonna be fuckin hard if that ass is grinding against me.”

you glare, but there isn’t much intensity to it because you know he’s much stronger than you. there isn’t much to get angry about. “yea, yea,” you huff. “for all i know, you’ll be my personal dildo today.”

he barks out a laugh and looks at the referee, who has one hand raised, the other one poised on his whistle, ready to blow and start the round. it’s starting soon. then, he looks back to you and smiles. “let the games begin.”

the referee blows the whistle.

at once, you launch yourself towards toji, trying to jump on him to get him off his feet with your weight. instead, he dodges easily and leaves you hurtling towards the floor, making you poise yourself on your hands and feet upon impact. you roll over just as toji tries to tackle you and pin you against your original position on the floor and quickly get up.

however, as you’re steadying yourself on your feet, toji grabs your ankle, causing you to lose your balance and giving him the advantage to pin himself on top of you, his mouth breathing heavily next to your ear, whispering so it was just the two of you that could hear his words. “what do you think i should take off first?” he laughs deeply, the vibration causing you to shiver and try to squirm to get out of his hold, to no avail. “should it be these?” he snakes his hands down to grope your tits, giving them a firm squeeze, much to the arena’s pleasure. “or should i take these off of you?” he slaps your ass, making you blush furiously.

“fuck you,” you hiss as his hands catch on the edge of your shorts.

he gives you a sweet, small kiss on your temple. “don’t worry, baby,” he smiles. “you’ll be doing that anyways.” and with that, he pulls at your shorts until the waistband’s elastic rips, leaving your shorts in tatters until he throws the remains of it away, baring your panty-covered ass to the crowd, which immediately grows wild.

you crane your neck to look at the screen, which is currently focused on toji’s hands feeling up your ass, dipping inside your underwear to knead the flesh. your heart is pounding, the thought i need to get the upper hand flashing continuously across your mind. it’s almost as if you’re drowning, the noises of the crowd blurring together until it was only you and toji’s weight on you. you barely heard the announcer exclaim, “toji is currently in the lead!” as you focused on calculating your next move.

it was time to pull out all the stops. 

turning your head until you were making eye contact with him, you bit your lip, momentarily distracted him with the 180 turn of your actions, now nonchalant rather than the flailing you were doing earlier. then, you raised your hips, meeting your backside with his crotch in an effort to catch him off guard and to make him lose balance. then, you maneuvered yourself so your thighs surround toji’s waist and hump your hips against his bulge. this momentarily distracted and weakened toji, and you take full advantage of it by overtaking him and now straddling him. you quickly take off his shirt, salivating at the muscles you see. the whole stadium, in fact, can see his abs and pecs glistening with sweat.

smirking while peering down at him, you slowly grind your hips as if you were riding a mechanical bull, making a show of spinning around his shirt with your hand to mock him. toji’s eyes darken, but a mirthless smile flashes across his face anyways. “damn, take me out to dinner first.”

you flash him one of your own humorless smirks, happy that you got at least one thing against him. “i don’t fuck anyone before the first day, honey. this is just another cheap fuck.” with that, you yank his head back with his hair roughly, making a show of motorboating his pecs, as if to mock him.

instead of getting angry, he chuckles darkly. “you’re going to regret that. i was going to drag this out, princess, but i gotta fuck the brat out of you.” with that, he spins you around just as quickly—if not quicker—pinning you against the ground with your hands held above your head in one hand in a vice grip, the other groping its way down your body. he buries his face in your neck, salaciously licking the length of it. with his free hand—now stationed around your tits—he grabs at the hem of your top, pulling it up so everyone could see your lace bra. mockingly, he plants his face in the middle of your tits, moving his head side by side to motorboat you just as you had done to him, the soft plush of your tits encompassing his face.

the crowd cheers, even more so than they had when you had ripped his shirt off, as toji completely rips the top off as you squirm, making the removal even easier for him. you can feel all eyes on you as toji reaches for the clip of your bra, unhooking it and making your tits pop out. helplessly, you look at the screen, your writhing making them move in a jiggling motion, sweat shining and giving you the “oiled-up” look. he takes a moment to grope them, your whines ignored as he pinches your nipples. “what a sensitive girl,” he coos. “too bad she was too weak. now she’s going to have to take my cock.”

with that, he teasingly closes the distance between the waistband of your panties and his teeth, mouth snagging on the elastic. slowly, he drags them down, unveiling your glistening pussy for all eyes to see, and the crowd goes wild, chanting random requests at toji to do the most heinous things to you. as soon as you’re completely naked, he grabs you by the waist, propping you up against one of the corner posts. you’re now standing up, tearfully facing the arena as the wrestler kneels behind you, burying his face and nosing his way until your pussy, lapping up your wetness.

at the unexpected feeling of his tongue, you yelp, and toji slaps your ass. “stay still.” acquiescing, he licks up long stripes and shakes his head to grind his nose into your cunt, pleasuring you while humiliating you in front of everyone, forcing you to succumb to the pleasure he’s making you feel. while licking you, he groans. “fuck, this pussy is so sweet. i’ve run out of patience, fuck the performance part.”

with that, toji flips you over so you’re on your hands and knees on the floor and pulls down his pants. you don’t even look back at the monster that’s about to enter you for the sake of your mental health, but your legs are shaking in anticipation of his cock, slick dripping down your thighs. 

he drags his cock teasingly through your folds, and then brings it out to slap it against your ass, humming appreciatively at the recoil. then, as if he’s lost patience, he’s slowly entering you, pushing against your pussy’s resistance as he penetrates you in front of the whole arena. “fuck!” he groans, getting a better grip on you as he pushes your head down on the mat and fully goes to pound town.  

the humiliating plap! plap! plap! of his hips against the flesh of your ass echoing multiple strangers watch your pussy get wrecked. “the fuck this pussy’s so tight for? thought you were a slut?”

you’re tearing up, the feeling of his dick hitting your g-spot straight on making you clench hard, overwhelmed by the feeling of him pummeling you and his hands on your body, feeling you up. clearly, he knew how to pleasure a woman, and it made you all the more annoyed. you were fucked out, but not fucked out enough to prevent you from snarkily replying, “you’re not turning me on, small dick.”

he did not like that very much.

toji drills his hips into yours faster and slaps your ass multiple times consecutively. “yea, so why is she clenching so fucking much? why is she dripping, you whore?” as if to demonstrate his point, he brings his fingers to rub at your clit furiously, collecting the wetness that had dripped down from your hole then shoving his fingers into your mouth. “suck.” when you did just that, suckling at his fingers while hollowing your hot, wet heat around the appendages. 

at that, he groaned. “what a little cockwhore. shoulda made you suck my dick instead.”

in retaliation, you bite his fingers, hard, and then spit them out. “i would’ve bit your micro off.”

toji hisses, grabbing the hair at your scalp and pulling on it until your face was up, his mouth at your ear. “just for that, i’m going to come inside of your slutty pussy.” he speeds up, moving his hips faster and fast. the hand that wasn’t at your hair is now sneaking his way down your back, until you gasp.

because he’s inserted his thumb inside your ass.

“oh, ho ho,” he laughs mockingly. “you liked that, didn’t you?” you offer him no response, choosing instead to focus on the feeling of the sheer amount of pressure you were feeling down there, being doubly stuffed. by now, your orgasm has been steadily building because of the sheer power of toji’s stroke game, but as soon as he hits your spot one last time, your eyes roll back, causing you to arch your back and writhe due to the intensity of your orgasm.

you’re breathing heavily, toji fucking you roughly through it. once you’ve gotten a hold of your sense, you come back to reality as you realize that the crowd has adopted a rhythm to their chants, your fans and his screaming the same thing.

cum! cum! cum!

and toji only chortles as he continues your thirst, looking at you once again, and you can tell that he’s staving his orgasm back just after experiencing your clenches with the way he’s biting his lips, sweat running down from his temple to his abs. “what do you say, baby? wanna give the crowd what they’re asking for?” 

all it takes is a whimpered please, and toji just does what the crowd asks of him. ropes of his cum fill you, and you drop down in exhaustion to hear toji declared as winner. 

as you exhaustedly lift your head up, you see that cameras are out all around you, focused on the screen. you’re flustered when you realize the billboard is displaying toji’s cum seeping out of you.

A hand on your shoulder. “you good?” toji’s looking at you, eyes twinkling.

you let out a breath. “yea,” you laugh, out of breath. “good round.”

and he’s huffing, giving you a hand to get on your back. you can only lie on the ground as he barks for clothes to be put on you and for some water. then he turns to look at you once more, eyes twinkling. “wanna go for more in my hotel?”

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n i was going to have him carry u up near to the stands where your fans could grab at ur titties but this is alr depraved as it is. now im going to take a breather from tumblr for the rest of this week becasue WHEW ch5 gojo yesterday and finished this today i am ON A ROLL. see you guys for next week's kinktober fic (comment if you want to be tagged)! much love<3

reblog and comments are much appreciated!!!!!

taglist:

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto @cheescakebroom

@r0ckst4rjk

[girlrotterr]

✩ ⁺ ∿ oh baby, can you hear me moan? ◦　 ♩

roommate!ellie x reader Summary: You come home earlier than usual to find your roommates door slightly ajar. You can’t help but peek inside.

You’re home earlier than usual, and the place is eerily quiet—no random guitar strumming or the faint hum of a video game in the background. Ellie’s always got something going on, whether it’s tinkering with her beat-up acoustic guitar or completely failing at some cooking experiment that leaves the kitchen smelling like burned regret. 

You shrug off your jacket, the familiar scent of scorched food hits you—a sure sign Ellie’s been at it again. 

You can almost picture the disaster waiting in the kitchen. 

Maybe she attempted a stir-fry or tried to get fancy with eggs, which, for some reason, she consistently messes up. You remember the last time: the pan had been abandoned in the sink, its bottom crusted with what could only be described as scrambled cement, and Ellie had offered you an apologetic grin as she flicked at her guitar strings, mumbling something like, my bad…

Still smirking at the thought, you head toward the kitchen, but surprisingly, the mess isn’t as bad as you expected. A single burnt toast sits abandoned on a plate, and beside it, a bottle of peanut butter left open, its lid placed on the edge of the counter. You grab a spoon to clean up, noticing that Ellie’s nowhere in sight. Usually, she’s hovering near her messes, trying to fix it or making self-deprecating jokes to play off the mess.

Curious, you wander down the narrow hallway toward her room, your steps thudding along  the old wood floor. You pass by her door, which is slightly ajar, and immediately slow your pace. 

It’s not like Ellie to leave her door cracked. 

Your hand pauses on the doorframe, a soft click as your knuckles accidentally tap against it. 

You hesitate, thinking maybe you should leave her be, but then—before you can make the decision—a faint noise escapes from inside, followed by a sharp, quick breath. 

Your brow furrows as you inch closer, pushing the door open a little more.

Ellie was sprawled across her bed, her head thrown back against the pillows, messy hair fanning out in every direction. Her breath came in uneven gasps, wet, squelching sounds filling the room. 

Fuck, she was too desperate to even bother taking off her clothes. 

Her brown jacket hung loosely off her shoulders, the fabric wrinkled and tugged from her movements. Her half-unbuttoned flannel exposed her perky nipples, her jeans were pushed down just past her thighs, the belt hanging loosely, the metal buckle clinking against her skin as her hips rocked. 

Your breath hitches, catching in your throat as you take in the sight of her hand pumping beneath her boxers, her movements quick, almost frantic. Heat floods your body, cheeks burning as your eyes lock onto her. 

"Oh fuck, yes," she breathes, her voice low and rough. 

You can’t tear your eyes away. 

Ellie spread her legs wider, her right thigh twitching slightly as her fingers pump deeper inside.  Your cunt began to ache as your eyes caught on what she was holding. It was your panties—your favorite pair—clutched tightly in her fist, the soft lace crumpled and wrinkled between her fingers. You swallowed hard, eyes tracing the wet patch staining the fabric, the glistening spot a clear sign that she had been grinding against them. 

“Just a little more…” she breathes, eyes fluttering shut as she loses herself in the moment, her lips parting slightly. “God, I needed this…” 

“Come on, don’t stop,” she murmurs, biting her lip, her brow furrowing in concentration. “Just a bit more… just like that.” There’s desperation in her voice, a plea.

“Fuck, why is this so good?” she gasps, her voice whining with need, eyes still closed, lost in the sensations of her aching cunt“Why does it feel so much better when I think of you?” 

“Ellie…” you breathe, barely a whisper, but she doesn’t hear you.

She’s too lost in her own fantasy. 

"God, I love this," she moaned softly, her voice husky, as her hand moved frantically between her legs. Her fingers pumped faster and faster, her perky tits bouncing with each thrust, the bed beneath her squeaking. "Can’t get fucking enough."

You knew you should turn away, that you’d crossed a line simply by staying. 

Your breath hitched, the air suddenly too hot, as your hand slipped beneath your waistband, trembling fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties. You shifted them to the side, biting your lip as your fingers found your aching clit, tracing small circles. 

You tried to keep your breathing shallow, hoping she wouldn’t hear you over her own sounds. Your soft moans mingled with the wet, squelching sounds filling the room. The heat between your legs became unbearable, a pulse that only grew stronger with each passing second. 

“Need you to fucking take it," Ellie breathed, her voice low and ragged. Her hips bucking harder, the pace of her fingers desperate. 

"Oh fuck," you whimpered, your voice shaky as the ache in your hole pulasated. The need was overwhelming, your hole throbbing with a desperate hunger you couldn’t ignore, your fingers moving faster to keep up with ellie’s pace. 

Ellie’s eyes narrowed, her brows furrowing together as her movements slowed. You watched, breathless, as she pulled her fingers out of her drenched hole, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Without hesitation, she pressed your panties against her soaked pussy, the lace clothing her cunt as her slickness coated the fabric.

With a low groan, she began to grind against it, her hips bucking, pressing harder and faster into the softness of the fabric. Her lips parted, a ragged breath escaping as her eyes fluttered shut, her head falling back against the pillows. The wet lace clung to her, the friction of it only making her grind harder.

"Love this... fuck, your panties... can’t get enough..." Her head fell back again, and she let out a deep groan, her fingers pressing the lace even harder against her aching clit.

A moan escapes your lips, quiet at first, but growing louder as the pleasure builds inside you. 

But in your desperation, you leaned a little too close to the door, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. 

You and Ellie freeze, eyes locking in a moment of shock. 

Ellie’s eyes widen, her mouth agape.Her gaze drops slowly, lingering on your body, taking in the sight of your drenched pussy, your panties pushed to the side, the fabric clinging to your trembling thighs. 

You can hardly breathe. 

Oh fuuck.

You try to speak, to form a coherent thought, but all that escapes your lips is a breathless, “I…” 

Heat floods your cheeks, mingling with the aching throb of your pussy, pulsing with an urgent need. God— the way she’s staring at you, with that raw hunger in her eyes.

“Come here,” Ellie whispered, her chest heaving, struggling to catch her breath. 

You couldn’t resist it.

Ellie shuddered as you slid your hand between her trembling thighs. Shuddering as your fingertip circled her dripping entrance, her soft folds parting easily under your touch. With a needy moan, she guided your finger deeper, gasping as you penetrated her hole. The slick walls of her cunt clenched greedily around your fingers as Ellie bucked her hips, fucking herself on your hand with desperation.

"Fuuuck.." *she groaned, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy. Her cunt was absolutely drenched, leaking down her thighs as she rutted against you shamelessly. Ellie's needy whimpers filled the room, growing louder and more frenzied by the second.

"Fuck, just like that!" Ellie gasped, her hips bucking wildly. She gripped your shoulders tightly, her nails digging into your skin as she rode your fingers. Her juices flowed freely, coating your fingers and dripping down your wrist.

“Ohh fuckk mee…” She groaned as your fingers slipped out of her dripping hole. 

Without wasting a second, she quickly positioned herself above you, her slick folds hovering mere inches from your own. With a swift movement, Ellie slammed her cunt down onto yours, your aching clits rubbing together as your slick juices mixed. 

“ellie! please please please!" you moaned, tightening your grip onto her wrinkled bedsheets. 

"That's it, baby," she groaned, grinding her hips in tight circles.

She gripped your hips tightly, pulling you closer. The sounds of wet skin slapping against wet skin echoed, mingling with your moans and cries of pleasure. Ellie's perky breats bounced with each thrust, her hardened nipples grazing against yours. She gripped your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat, which she attacked with biting kisses and sensual licks.

"Atta girl," Ellie whsipered, "Take what I give you."