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evanchantingpeters · 1 month ago

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How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 7 - Final)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Summary ─ A couple of months after Jake’s (Evan’s friend) tragic accident left him fighting for his life in intensive care, Evan is spiralling, lost in despair, a shadow of his former self. Just as a sliver of good news about his condition offers a ray of hope, Y/N steps in, determined to bring some light into Evan’s shattered world. She starts with a seductive dance and builds to a night of passion. But Evan has a surprise—one that will change everything in a way Y/N never saw coming.

Warnings ─ Obscene language, lap dance, oral (both receiving), overstimulation, mild daddy kink, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cowgirl, missionary, extra smutty—like you like it.

Word count ─ 5.1K (I had a lot to say 🤫)

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

Previously on: How I met Evan Peters (Part 6)

“W-what’s up, Jeremy?” he stutters, his voice barely a whisper. “It’s Jake,” Jeremy blurts out, his expression twisting into one of anguish. “He’s fallen off the roof.” Jeremy’s words hit like a punch to the gut, the colour draining from Evan’s face. The room goes deathly quiet, the weight of his words sinking in. The room spins as everything comes to a screeching halt.

Two months after Jake’s accident

Thursday, 16:42 pm

You settle into the cosy corner of his New York apartment, the city’s hustle muffled by the soft hum of the radiator. A rustic wooden desk hosting your work setup and a quirky lamp, which has seen better days but adds to the character, stands against the wall. A plush bean bag chair invites you to sink in while a baroque rug sprawls beneath your feet, and a bookshelf stuffed with books and random knick-knacks lurks by your side. Sunlight streams through light, breezy curtains, making it a perfect workspace for your remote routine. With Evan busy with press and meetings for the next few weeks, this place feels almost like a retreat—if only you could shake off the looming frustration of the Excel table before you.

You’d think by now you’d have mastered the art of not losing your shit at work, being the corporate girlie you are, while dealing with this stupid spreadsheet, but nope. Here you are, puffing like the Big Bad Wolf trying to blow down formulas that refuse to behave.

As you’re fighting and suffering through, your hand drifts toward your phone. You know how it goes. Brain’s fried, and next thing you know, you’re aimlessly scrolling through the endless pit of Instagram reels without even realising it. Well, this time it’s Evan’s name glowing like a beacon of your favourite “distraction,” and your stomach flutters, your heart racing.

Oh, hello, messages!

You open the chat, expecting a quick “I’ll be back in 10’, baby. Can’t wait to kiss you” text or maybe a meme about cats judging people (you know, standard fare). Instead, what do you find? A picture. But not just any picture. Oh no, this man, YOUR man, is standing there in a white tee, his pose giving swagger “yo” next to Todd McFarlane, a comic book legend. The whole shebang.

And here comes the string of messages:

“Babyyyy, look - Todd McFarlane in da house for the press conference!!”

“he’s signed the Amazing Spider-Man hardcopy!!”

“ill bring it home and we frame it ;)”

“we’re going live.. tune in xx”

“changed into the blazer and stripy tee you picked for me. Love you so ♥️”

Let’s pause here. Not at Todd McFarlane – who, mind you, is hands-down a god in his domain, but no. Your eyes, traitors that they are, keep sliding back to that picture of Evan.

Because damn.

Todd’s cool and all, but Evan in that white tee and messy curls? Where do you even begin? The man looks like he rolled out of bed straight into a photoshoot and decided to smoulder for no apparent reason. You know the one—that half-cocked sly smile that screams, “Yeah, I know what I’m doing to do, and you’re welcome.”

You catch yourself zooming in and drooling over him like a total goofball. The scrunched-up grimace. The luscious Tarzan hair. The way his eyes carry a hint of sadness and fatigue but with residues of that familiar spark he always has. It’s weird how something as simple as a picture can make your heart do that silly backflip thing over and over again after more than a year with him.

Snap out of it, girl. Spreadsheet’s waiting. But no, instead of getting back to formulas, your brain takes a little detour down Memory Lane. Suddenly, you’re remembering the last time Evan was kneeling in front of you. Not in some adorable, “let me tie your shoes, princess” way, but more of an arousing “let me worship you, queen,” Roman Empire situation.

Oh, yeah. That night.

You’d seized your throne aka that big armchair in the middle of the dimly-lit living room. And there he was, on his knees, completely surrendered to you. His tongue was lapping on your wet folds like you were the sweetest cake frosting he’d ever tasted. His slender fingers were plumping in and out of you in all the right spots as he slurped up your syrups and juices, sucking on your clit like it’s cherry on dessert.

His tongue would thrash and french kiss your puffy sobbing walls up near the throbbing bulb of your sensitive clit. You tugged on his hair, his brown curls wrapped around your fingers like reins as he pulled you apart, inch by inch. Your jaw tightened as his tongue and fingers mercilessly rutted into you, giving you crazed whiplash as you squirt, all while licking you clean with eager choked moans.

Your body tremors and orgasmic vibrations were seismic… just like they are now as your cunt pulsates and aches for him, even though you’re sitting at the dining table, fully clothed and miles away from him.

Funny how memories can sneak up on you like that, isn’t it?

But here’s the kicker. As much as you’d love for a repeat performance, that’s not where you guys are at these days. Not since Jake fell off the roof at the party he hosted at his place. You get it–one of Evan’s best friends is in a hospital bed, clinging to life while in a coma, and Evan’s drowning in his own sea of emotions and sorrow. The man is dragging so much weight on his shoulders right now.

And you respect that. You really do. Your sex life has justifiably taken a backseat, but you’re not here to push or force him. What you have and share with him isn’t mere lust; you love him, and you acknowledge that he’s having it rough at the moment. You’ve been trying to be his rock, the one who keeps him grounded while he navigates the heavy blizzard of the tragedy.

But you can’t help it.

Sometimes, your mind slips back to those sizzling moments where your bodies speak in a language only you two comprehend. Because, let’s be real—he might be wearing the blazer you chose for him in the morning, but under all that fabric, you’re the one who gets to undress the real Evan. And if that’s not worth waiting for, you don’t know what is.

You sigh, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, but you’ve left the spreadsheets and work far behind with all those cheeky little fantasies that gnaw on your brain. Still knee-deep in wet daydreams of Evan and his—well, *coughing* talents, when the universe decides to slap you in the face with reality.

That “we’re going live, tune in xx” text blinks back at you from the chat, practically yelling to stop fantasising and actually be the supportive girlfriend you claim to be.

Gasp.

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. Gasp again.

The press conference! You need to watch it. Like, now.

You scramble up from the table so fast, you’d think the chair is lava, and launch into a desperate hunt for the TV remote. The remote is like a cryptid—always hiding in the most inconvenient places at the worst times. Last week? In the fridge. Don’t ask. Today? Who knows. You’re flipping couch cushions like you’re on an archaeological dig.

“WHERE IS IT?!” you yelp, your high-pitched voice bouncing off the walls like you’re a banshee in panic mode. Female rage core.

Nowhere. Absolutely nowhere. It’s like the remote’s decided to pack its bags and set off to Narnia with no return ticket.

Curse you, technology masterminds.

Plan B.

You rush back to your laptop, slide your fingers along the trackpad to wake it up, and—oh no, what’s this? Your whole screen’s been hijacked by the most evil of phrases:

Software Update: 30% Complete.

Are. You. For. Real.

You stare at the loading bar like you can will it to go faster. Or pretend you’re not watching, so it speeds up. Smart but nah, that’s placebo—no such luck. This thing is moving slower than a Monday morning during rush hours, and if you wait for it, you’ll be watching Evan’s interview in the past tense or through his narration once he’s back home.

You let out a huff that could probably power a small wind turbine and whip out your phone, praying to every deity that your Wi-Fi doesn’t fail you amidst crisis.

“Come on, come on,” you mutter through gritted teeth, frantically tapping apps like your fingers are on caffeine overload. And just when you think someone is playing another cruel trick on you—boom, there it is. The live stream.

The screen lights up, and there comes baby Evan on stage, looking all sleek and profesh in his blazer (you knew the combo with the stripes underneath would work wonders *proud stylist smiling*). He’s sitting on a stool along with his co-stars, all of them gathered in this massive amphitheatre for their upcoming movie press tour.

He’s got the mic in his hand, finishing up a sentence with that smooth, husky tone. You know, that voice that sounds like a lullaby wrapped in velvet. But there’s also the twist of dorky humour and the cute brow furrows he taps into when he’s either totally in his element or way too awkward.

The interviewer gives him a nod, then sighs. Your stomach drops.

The next question is about Jake, as he’s guy well known for scripting some of the most beloved TV shows. If there were a Hall of Fame for TV writers, his star would be as big as a small planet. He’s adored by fandoms for his wit and creativity, and now you’re all grappling with the fallout from his misfortune.

You can see the shift in Evan’s face from media charm to something… darker, melancholic. He’s trying so hard to stay composed, but you know him. That tiny flicker of anguish behind his eyes filters through the cracks.

Evan takes a sharp breath and clears his throat. “Yeah, Jake was moved from LA and remains in ICU here in New York,” he admits, voice steady but edged with quiet vulnerability. “But there’s… a... there’s a glimmer of hope. He moved his hand today.”

For a second, the world stops spinning. Did he just say—? He moved?!

Your heart does a somersault, and you can’t help it—you cheer and clap right along with the audience, even though you’re alone in the living room in your mismatched socks, overstretched yoga shorts, and messy bun. Who cares, honestly? Jake moved his hand.

Evan lets the crowd’s enthusiasm bubble up for a second before he delicately taming it. “It’s good news,” he continues, his voice like a fuzzy blanket, soothing yet cautious. “But let’s not start planning the parade just yet—there’s a long road ahead for him. We’ll have to see how his health evolves from here. I just wanted to share this little nugget of hope. His family’s already spreading the word, and they gave me the green light to pass it on to all of you.”

There’s a tightness in his voice, and you can tell he’s got a fortress built around his emotions, probably fighting not to let it crumble in front of all those people and cameras. Your baby’s always been strong like steel this way, the type who carries everyone’s baggage on his shoulders without ever letting on how heavy it is.

You sit there, phone in hand, staring at his face on the screen. There’s so much going on behind those eyes, and you know he probably feels like crap underneath that calm exterior.

You wish you could reach through the screen and just be there with him in a “I’ve got you, you’re not alone” kind of way. You’ve been weathering this storm together, and it’s been tough as hell. It’s taken everything in him just to stay afloat, but he’s doing it. He’s really doing it...

There’s something about post-work Thursdays that sends you into this frantic, impulsive must-clean-everything-in-sight mode. Not that Evan cares if there’s a pile of laundry in the corner or if the dishes are threatening to stage a rebellion in the sink, but still. He doesn’t expect you to tackle it all just because you’re working fully from home; he can do it himself, but you want the place to look neat and tidy. You know, like “I have my life together and didn’t just spend the last two hours binge-watching cooking videos on YouTube” level of very demure, very mindful adulthood.

So here you are, in full-on cleaning tornado mode—scrubbing the counter with the kind of intensity that could probably burn calories—when your ears perk at the rustling sound.

That magical jingle of keys. The ignition. The click of the door unlocking.

Baby Evan’s home.

You drop the sponge like it’s on fire and just bolt. You don’t even think. It’s pure instinct, like you’re a puppy who heard the treat jar open. Your pulse leaps, your feet fly, and before you know it, you’re flinging the front door open just as he steps in. And there he is.

Your man. Your whole heart.

He’s got his arms full—takeout bags in one hand, his backpack slung over his shoulder, looking more mouth-watering than anything that could possibly be in those containers. His hair’s a little ruffled, his shirt rumpled from the day, but to you, he might as well be walking straight out of a rom-com.

“EVIEEEE!” you squeal, pouncing at him with the enthusiasm of a kid on a sugar high.

“Whoa!” he chuckles heartily, catching you mid-air. He spins you around even though you can sense the stiffness in his body as he battles not to drop the dinner. He’s out of breath, but he holds you tight, like he’s afraid to let go. His backpack slides down his arm, and for a second, you’re just tangled together—glued around him, his hands grasping on you firmly.

“Couldn’t wait to see me, huh?” he teases, his voice hoarse from the long day. But you can see it in his eyes—he’s just as hyped to be back in your little cocoon as you are.

“You have no idea,” you breathe, and before you can utter anything else, his lips are on yours, kissing you like he’s been starved for weeks. You’re pretty sure you hear the bags crinkle between you two, but whatever… they can wait.

It’s not just a kiss. Oh no, this is the you-just-got-kissed-senseless kind that says, “I’m never letting you out of my reach again.” It’s deep and sloppy, and you feel it all the way down your toes. Little lewd moans escape your bodies as your tongues greet each other, swirling around in a lustful dance. He tastes like toffee, baby powder, warmth, comfort, and home.

You melt into each other, completely forgetting about the bags or the fact that you’ve still got soap on your hands. You twirl faster together as his hands mischievously squeeze your ass, making you giggle into his mouth.

“I was counting the hours to get to you, Y/N, and time was a total bitch today,” he grumbles, and it’s a husky purr near the nape of your neck. Your plump lips curl into an “awh, my poor baby” pout, cupping his cheeks in your palms as you swarm his face with little pecks.

When he finally sets you down, you’re both grinning like idiots. Your heart’s doing cartwheels, and your stomach feels like you’ve swallowed a whole bunch of butterflies. You missed him. Not just having him around, but all the little things tied in—his laugh, his hands on you, the way he stares at you like you’re a precious gem.

Closing the door behind you, you pace together towards the kitchen, and get the itch to drop the question, “Did Jake really move?” Your voice is hopeful, but there’s a little tinge of fear there too. You know how much this means to Evan, so you need to tread about cautiously.

He pauses, chucking his backpack aside before turning to you. His eyes soften, and he nods, stepping closer. His hands find your waist again, his face buried in the crook of your neck. “Yeah. He really did.”

Before you can even process the relief, Evan’s lips are on yours again, soft whimpers rolling off him. This time, the kiss is slower, more tender like silky ribbons on your mouth. His lips trail from your mouth down to your neck, his breath tingly against your heated skin. “Gosh, how much I needed you today,” he whispers between kisses, his voice dense with emotion as he presses his mouth lower, toward the neckline of your sports bra. His fingers gently graze your sides and rest on your hip bones before massaging your ass, and your breath hitches.

You thread your fingers through his hair, feeling the tension melt out of him as his body leans into yours. “Me too,” you huff out, because honestly, you feel like you’ve been holding your breath all day, just waiting for him to come home.

But then you pull away slightly, the thought of Jake scratching the back of your mind. “Can we go see him now?”

Evan sighs, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, his breath warm and steady. “Not tonight,” he exhales, taking a couple of steps back. “It’s just family. They wanna keep it low with the visits.”

You shake your head in acknowledgment, nervously biting your fingernail. You get it—you really do—but there’s still that little sting of disappointment tugging at your chest. “How ‘bout tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, glancing over at you again as he tears the bags apart and unpacks the food. “We’ll try tomorrow afternoon. His family’s still adjusting, but I’ll talk to them.”

The relief that washes over you is like a pleasant, summer breeze, calming your frayed nerves. Tomorrow. You let out a breathy, “Okay, great,” your shoulders finally loosening. As you approach him to help dispose of the bags, Evan’s hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist in one quick, playful motion, pulling you flush against him.

You barely have time to gasp before his lips crash against yours, his tongue barging in your mouth without warning, assaulting yours in tantalising ways that are better left unsaid. You loop your arms around the back of his head and drag him closer, your tits cushioning his shredded chest.

“Don’t leave, please,” he hushes, his lips caressing yours. His voice is huskier now, a bit rougher around the edges, and you can feel the warmth from his body merging with yours. His free hand slips down to the supple flesh of your waist again, fingers curling just under the hem of your top to tuck underneath.

You smirk against his mouth, tilting your head slightly. “You know, we do live together, sir” you tease, playfully pinching the tip of his nose.

“That’s a reminder in case you forgot,” he quips, nuzzling into the slope of your neck. His broad shoulders are curved over you from behind like a shield, throwing every organ in your body on high alert, your heart drumming violently.

He pulls back, and before you can react, he gives your ass a quick, cheeky smack that makes you jump. Your mouth drops open in surprise, but he just grins smugly, like he’s fully aware of what he’s done, and he’s proud of it.

“Hey!” you whimper, swatting at him, but there’s no denying your pulse thumps fiercely.

“What?” he squeaks sheepishly, throwing his hands up in exasperation, but the glint in his eye gives him away. “You look too good to keep my hands off. Plus, guess who was stuck in my head the whole day. Hint—it’s not the burgers,” he fires back, waggling his eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes comically, but your heartbeat is up now. There’s something about the way he’s staring down at you—like he’s hungry, and it’s not just for the takeout. You notice it when he leans in again, this time with a heat that wasn’t there a moment ago. His lips trace a line of open mouthed kisses from your jaw to your collarbone. Your fingers twist around his shirt, gripping it, as his hands roam a little lower, tugging you closer until you can feel every ounce of him pressed against you.

“Speaking of burgers, if food’s your love language, then you’re speaking mine fluently,” you chuckle, but the second you catch the look Evan gives you—whoa, buddy. Food’s officially second on his menu. His eyes are a pair of flamed balls, fixed onto you like you’re the main course, dessert, and everything in between—like you’re the most appetising thing in the room.

And, let’s just say, he’s a lot more “warmed up” than usual. His kisses grow deeper, rougher, and the way he’s touching you are the real giveaway… The man’s practically simmering.

And oh, honey, you’re more than pleased to help him get away tonight. So, in your most casual, not-at-all-planned-in-your-head-already way, you decide tonight’s the night to put up a show… Literally.

You let your hands glide down his chest, feeling every erratic beat of his heart beneath his shirt. “You’ve been through a lot lately,” you murmur softly, your fingers dipping lower until you’re just hovering over his belt buckle, toying with the metal. “How about I pamper you tonight?”

You let your tongue slide over his upper lip, and damn if he doesn’t shudder. His eyes flash with thrill and curiosity—mixed with something darker, more primal. “Oh?” His voice comes out in this sexy rasp like he’s intrigued but still playing along, letting you lead for now.

You bite back a smug grin. Oh, you have no idea what you’re in for.

With a playful wink, you step back, making sure to drag your hand across his chest one last time. “Sit tight, big boy,” you purr, backing away with just the right amount of sway in your hips. “This show’s just getting started.”

You saunter down the hallway, feeling his gaze burning a path down your back. You can feel your heart pounding as you head into the bedroom, closing the door behind you. The second it clicks shut, you lean against it for a second to catch your breath. The adrenaline makes your hands quiver a little as you rummage through the drawer.

There it is: that little black number you’ve been saving for a night just like this.

A lacy, black lingerie piece, sheer in all the right places, hugging curves like it was made for you. You shimmy it on, adjusting the straps, making sure everything’s sitting just so.

A quick glance in the mirror as you set your hair free from the bun—tousled, sexy-but-effortless vibe, check. The lace hints at more than it conceals, and your lips curl into a slow smile. Oh, yeah, he’s done for. You toss on a silky robe, leaving it untied, the lace peeking through just enough to give him a preview. A little fragrance spritz and a light touch of your lipstick, and you’re sorted.

When you open the door and walk back into the living room, you find him perched on the couch, his eyes snapping to you like magnets, intense and feral, as you come into view. His posture is stiff, knuckles blanched as they grip the cushions like he’s holding on for dear life. His pupils, wide and black with want, devouring the sight of you as if you are something forbidden, yet irresistible.

His gaze lingers, darkening when it catches on the soft peek of skin where your robe parts. He swallows hard, audibly, and when you let the silky fabric slip from your shoulders and pool at your feet, his jaw clenches—hard (hint: and not just his jaw).

The low light of the room encases you as it casts a sensual glow over the room, deepening the shadows and sharpening the tension between you two like a blade.

“F-fuck,” he wheezes, like the breath’s been knocked clean and shallow out of him. He tries to maintain some semblance of self-control, but the sharp despair in his voice betrays him. He sinks deeper into the couch, spreading his legs slightly, shooting you this look that’s pure, unfiltered desire as he drinks you in.

You want to torture him, enjoying how his gaze rakes over every inch of you, so you slowly strut over to him. Each step is deliberate, your hips swinging in a slow, intoxicating rhythm that’s nothing short of tempting. His composure slips just a little more—a twitch in his jaw, a harsh swallow, the way his chest rises and falls, faster with every second. His eyes flick down to the curves, then back up to your scandalous tits before snapping back to your face.

The heat from his body radiates into yours as you come to a stop, your thighs rubbing against his knees, and his hands instinctively move to grab your waist. But you’re not giving in that easily. “Uh-uh,” you purr, wagging a teasing finger at him, your lips forming a sly smile.

His fingers freeze, but his eyes burn with frustration as you stretch, purposely slow, letting your ass hover just above his lap. The unmistakable press of his hardness through his jeans sends a jolt of arousal through you, and you can’t help but smirk. “I’m in charge tonight, remember?”

Evan lets out a furious groan, his head falling back defeated against the cushions, hands flexing in silent restraint. The power you hold over him tonight? Oh, it’s delicious, addictive. You throw him one last, seductive glance before turning around, giving him the full view of your barely-there lingerie—delicate straps criss-crossing down your back and framing your ass like a gift he’s dying to unwrap.

You hear as a muttered curse slips past his lips, low and guttural. He’s so close to breaking, and you haven’t even actually started yet. You scroll through your phone’s playlist, cueing up the perfect song for the occasion. The room is soon filled with the slow, sultry beats of Beyoncé’s ‘Dance For You,’ wrapping around both of you like a spell. You start slow, letting the music guide your hips, rolling in hypnotic circles.

You saunter towards a nearby chair, aka your prop, bending over it as your body flows like liquid heat to the beat. His eyes religiously follow every motion, waiting, his breathing growing heavier like he’s holding on a thread with every flick of your hips, every arch of your spine.

You roam your fingers up my body, teasingly stopping at your hips before dragging them higher, skimming over your breasts. With agonising slowness, you untie your bra, holding his attention and eye contact hostage. The second the lace slips off your body, you toss it in his direction with a devilish grin. He catches it with a hungry grunt, burying his face in the fabric like a man possessed, his smirk turning malicious as he inhales deeply.

“God, you’re killing me,” he groans, eyes exploding with thirst for you. The sight of him, chest heaving, lips slightly parted—oh, it’s so sadistically satisfying.

You’re gonna make him beg for it.

Leaning forward, just enough for your bare breasts to graze his chest, you bring your lips up to his ear, hot breath fanning the side of his face, “Good,” voice dripping with a promise for more. You pull back just a fraction, your lips curving into a wicked smile. “I’m just getting started.”

You circle behind him, and he twists his head, tracking your every move, but you’re not finished (no pun intended).

“Please, Y/N. Come sit on my lap, or my face…just—” His voice breaks, raw and pleading, his body squirming as he shifts, desperate for release. The power thrumming through your veins is out of this world, and you bite your bottom lip knowing you’ve got him right on the edge.

You start with the lightest touch, dragging your fingers over the hard lines of his shoulders, tracing down the sculpted muscles of his chest, feeling the shudder that runs through him as you slide lower. Your fingers brush over the taut muscles of his thighs.

His stiff length twitches beneath your touch, his growl of desire low and animalistic. His hands stretch again, desperate to reach for you, but you chuckle softly, knowing he’s at your mercy tonight. His usual command is gone, flipped on its head, and that hunger in his eyes tells you he’s loving every second of it.

The music pulses through the room as you circle back around to him. You bend low, your curves on full display, just close enough for him to grab a handful of your ass with an eager groan that rumbles through his chest. He finally pulls you into him, lips attacking your skin, trailing down your spine with feverish kisses as he peels your thong off. His breath brushes against your slit and clit as he descends, his lips so dangerously close it sends your body humming with desire.

He can smell your fertility; the pheromones emitting from your body intensify his animal instinct to breed. His breathing is erratic now, his body practically vibrating with need to take you, but you still “hold the leash.”

He breaths come out in heavy bursts as he watches you straddle him, knees planted on either side of his hips. You grind down slowly, feeling the friction as you move in slow, sensual circles. His hands latch onto your thighs, his grip harsh and desperate, leaving marks that make your skin tingle. But still, you don’t let him seize control. Not yet.

Leaning in, you pepper steamy kisses along his neck, feeling his rapid pulse beneath your lips, your teeth tracing the sharp edge of his jawline. You tenderly bite at his earlobe, and he growls lowly, his hands spasming with despair to grab you, but even then, you won’t allow him to touch you the way he wants.

“The more you resist, the harder I’ll fuck you,” he warns with a hiss, his voice dark. It’s a threat and a vow all rolled into one that sends a heat pooling between your thighs.

“Perfect,” you retort in a hushed whisper against the shell of his ear, lips barely brushing the corner of his mouth—teasing but not quite giving in. “That’s the idea, baby.”

You’re serving cunt, and he knows it well.

With a slow, calculated slide, you lower yourself down his body, your hands stripping him of his blazer as you go. You let your hands trace over his thighs and the hardened, erected mound in between. Kneeling between his legs, you lock eyes with him, watching the way his breath stutters, anticipation swirling in the air. Slowly, you unbuckle his belt, your fingers stroking his length just enough to drive him nuts as he lets out a shaky gasp.

You pop the button on his jeans and pull down the zipper with your teeth. The second you free him from the tight confines of denim, his aching cock springs out, pulsing with raw desire for you, the fabric of his boxers barely able to contain him.

You glance up at him again with a smug smile before leaning down, your lips brushing along his head. His hips buck instinctively, a ragged groan tearing from his throat. But you take your time, taunting him with light flicks of your tongue.

Finally, you wrap your lips around him, licking his sensitive red tip with the end of your tongue. You swirl it around and lap up the shiny little pearls of precum that keep seeping out in his pent-up arousal. “F-fuuuck, Y/N. You’re gonna make me blow in a sec,” he grunts out with a hitched voice as you take his whole size in your mouth.

Your eyes flash up at him, filled with mischief as you take him deeper, your lips stretching to fit his full size. “Isn’t that the point?” you murmur, your voice on a seductive octave. “I want you to cum hard... fucking hard all over me.”

Your fingers trace the thick vein along the underside of his shaft before squeezing his hardness and pumping with a fast and firm tempo. Your hand works in sync with your mouth as you suck the upper half of his delicious cock, pulling him in and out, each movement making him gasp and buckle uncontrollably.

His head falls back, eyes screwed shut, muscles tensing. Some inaudible drabble slips off him as he thrusts into your mouth. Pools of saliva are pouring out of the edges of your lips, your eyebrows knitted together as you keep gagging at his cock hitting the back of your throat. You push further, your lips tight around him as you meet his gaze once more, your eyes wild with intensity. His fingers weave into your hair, but he doesn’t force you—he doesn’t have to. You’re in the saddle tonight, guiding him closer to his magical release.

Your hand reaches for his, fingers intertwining as your head bobs up and down on him, earning little moans of delight from his chest. He’s a hot mess; trembling under the weight of the pleasure you’re generously giving him as you slide your mouth down his dick, your cheeks hollowed in a blend of sensual sucks and frantic pumps.

The sound of you gagging, the wet slurp of your lips, and the way you glance up at him so innocently, brow furrowed with effort, has him reeling. “Ahh, yeah, keep going,” he breathes out, biting his bottom lip.

He gets a good yet gentle grasp of your hair, thrusting into your mouth in shallow, desperate strokes, but you maintain control, building him up slowly, methodically. He adores your lips, especially the way they loop around his dick and release these mewling sounds against it.

But now, his whole body is shuddering, his cock jerking inside, and you can feel the tell-tale sign he’s about to bust his load in your mouth. The blood rushes to his dick, draining any sane thought and cell in his brain, leaving him driven only by his primal instinct and craving for climax.

You slide onto his throbbing cock once more, gobbling on it like the insatiable whore you are. He presses your head down and keeps you there for a few seconds. As you detach from his member to draw a breath, his body immediately locks up, his abs contracting, and then—he’s there.

His head snaps back as he erupts shivering whimpers of your name, painting your face with copious amounts of his thick, white, and deliciously salty cum, his release spilling over your lips.

You open your mouth, tongue stretched out, catching the last drops as you pump him, milking every ounce of his release. His cum drips down your chin, and you let your fingers swipe off the remnants from your face, licking them off slowly, savouring the taste. Nothing goes to waste as you look up at him, lips wet, cheeks flushed with the aftermath of his orgasm.

“You’re one hungry bitch, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice strained, still shaky from the intensity of his high. He laughs weakly, dragging his thumb across your cheek with a tender caress, though his hard-on still convulses, not quite ready to soften. He winces as he tries to adjust himself, zipping up his jeans with difficulty, but the look of satisfaction on his face is unmistakable.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, licking your lips as you flash him a sly, knowing smirk. His chest rises and falls heavily, his face reddish, eyes droopy, still lost in the haze of afterglow.

Without wavering your eyes from him, you crawl up and climb to his lap, feeling your pussy drip with every inch of his skin that presses against you. He ogles your naked torso like a dog drooling over the bone. You position yourself just right, his semi-clothed swollen tip nudging against your slippery entrance.

“I am hungry for you, baby,” you purr with a pout as your fingertips draw lazy circles over the ridges of his abs. His eyes darken, filled with a renewed lust as he watches you, licking his lips like a predator eyeing its prey.

Letting out a dark, throaty chuckle, he wastes no time—he hammers his lips against yours, shoving his tongue deep into your mouth and kissing you with reckless abandon. His hands greedily paw at your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, tugging them just hard enough to make you moan against his lips.

The arousal between you is electric as your body grinds against his, the friction sending sparks flying through you both; it’s like static rubbing off against each other, and you are about to feel yourself short circuit any minute.

His hands hook around your ass cheeks before delivering a sharp, stinging slap that makes you yelp in pleasure, the sound echoing through the room. You press your lips harder against his with a mewl, tongues tangling.

“Evan,” you hush out between sloppy kisses, barely coherent amidst loud teeth smacking and clashing together. All thanks to his fingers dipping between your legs, teasing your clit with maddening eights as he grins victoriously, knowing he’s got you right where he wants you.

“My slut’s ready for me?” he hums, giving your ass another smack, the sound of flesh against flesh making you quiver with delight. Your hips swerve on his raging boner, the body-against-body friction igniting an ever-powerful spark within you both. To say you’re a ‘mere’ tease for him is an understatement.

“You’re doing so good, my baby girl,” he gruffs, and his rough, veiny hands glide possessively toward your rocking waist as you begin to rub yourself against his thigh, slowly... teasingly. Every roll of your hips has him biting his lip, his eyes glued to the way your body moves against him.

“You’re in night care, baby boy, remember?” you hush, your voice laced with dominance as you lift your hips, fingers deftly undoing his trousers again. Your hand wraps around his cock, positioning him at your slick slit. Slowly, achingly slow, you sink down onto him, inch by inch. The stretch forces a moaning gasp out of you as your body adjusts to accommodate his size. Fiery electricity surges through you both, and he hisses watching as your pulsating pussy desperately tries to swallow his cock.

His hands tighten on your hips as you take him deeper, your nails digging into his biceps when he bottoms out, filling you completely. The fullness makes you shudder, your breath leaving you in a jagged burst as his tip presses snugly against your cervix. The deep groan that escapes his throat vibrates through your body, making you clench around him involuntarily, his hips stilling cautiously.

You start to move, rolling your hips in slow, languid circles, setting a rhythm that’s equal parts torture and bliss for both. His hands grip you harder, leaving faint red imprints on your flushed flesh, but he doesn’t push or pull—he’s letting you have the upper hand in riding him, his eyes dark and hungry as he admires you, mouth parted. The way he’s looking at you though? Like you’re a goddess descending from the heavens just for him. Oh, that does something to you.

“Look at you, baby. So fucking gorgeous, taking me like that,” he murmurs, pride and desire dripping from every word. A crooked smile is etched on his face hearing the sloshing whines squawk out of your poor needy folds as they cling to his cock. Every thrust, every grind, every little whimper from your lips makes his large member throb inside you, stretching you deliciously as you plop up and down on him.

You lean down, sealing your lips in a hungry, desperate kiss, your tongues twirling in a messy dance. It’s all teeth and moans again as he hits that sweet spot deep inside. It’s the type of kiss that makes time stop, like nothing else exists except for the raw, primitive connection between you two.

His hands trail up your bare back, fingers tangling in your hair, keeping you close as you grind down harder. Your bodies move in sync, perfectly attuned to each other, and you can feel his cock twitching inside you with every movement. His eyes dart down to your bouncing breasts and toned stomach, but you quickly grab his jaw, tilting his head up to meet your gaze. “Nu-uh,” you whisper against his lips, your voice tinged with authority. “Eyes on mine, boy.”

He lets off a hearty chuckle, even going so far as to wriggle your ass back against him. “You feel so damn amazing, baby,” he huffs, voice rough with desire, talking over your whiny babbles. He cranes his neck to kiss the edge of your jaw before tenderly nipping at the skin.

Panting heavily, you exhale, “I could do this all night.” Your hips move faster, sliding up and down his thick length, the friction sending bolts of euphoria through you. His breathing grows ragged, and you can feel the tension rising, winding tighter and tighter. You’re so soft—sweet gummy flesh compressing around him with such ease, wringing him tight like a vice. He chokes when your pussy flutters—the way you clamp down on his dick makes his body go slack and his eyes roll back.

He lets out a low groan, barely holding himself together as your walls squeeze around him. “Thaaat’s it, hngh. This pussy knows it’s place,” he grouses, and your eyes widen, realising the shift in dynamic—he’s reclaimed control, already winning ground, sis. Before you know it, his plumpish tip drills further between each corner of your dripping cunt. Your small sobs amplify as he starts to move beneath you, his hips thrusting up harder, making your entire body quake with each deep pound.

“I love fucking you so much,” he grunts, nearly whining, his head tilting back as his cock jerks inside you.

Before you can fully catch your breath, Evan’s grip tightens on your hips. With one fluid motion, he lifts you off him, his arms hook beneath your thighs. You gasp, caught off guard, your body hanging in his grasp as he stands up, practically growling with primal need.

“You’re mine now,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, sending a bolt of excitement straight down your spine.

Without hesitation, he spins you around, carrying you across the room, your legs instinctively bundling around his waist. You’re in such a sweet, sexual brain fog that it takes you a second to get what’s going on. With one swift movement, he sweeps his arm across the dining table, sending glasses, cutlery, and whatever else is there crashing to the floor in a chaotic symphony of clatters.

“Evan!” You giggle dazedly, hands clasping on his shoulders as he sets you down on the table, the cold wood against your back making you shiver—but not nearly as much as the fire blazing in his eyes.

He leans over you and shushes you with a kiss, his lips brushing against yours as he pushes your legs apart. “I’m not done with you yet.”

You don’t have time to argue—not that you want to. He grabs your hips, yanking you to the very edge of the table, his body wedged firmly between your legs. There’s no remorse in his eyes—just pure, animalistic desire. One hand snakes under your ass, the other glides down your left thigh, lifting it effortlessly over his broad shoulder. The way he leans down and looks at you now, almost in slow motion... gosh. It’s like you’re the only thing he’s ever needed… like nothing else matters but taking you right here, right now, and it sets your entire body on fire.

He wants to smash, and he’ll get it.

The scent of your cunt is intoxicating, stirring every primal instinct inside Evan that he knows he must keep in check. He draws his hips back slowly, only his tip nestling inside you, then jams just once inside you. Your whole body jumps at the impact, your pleading eyes boring deep into his, a breathy hum punched out of you. He pulls back and slams forward again, growling through his teeth. Your pillowy walls are cuddling him, his heavy balls aching to be drained, eager to breed the fertile womb his tip is wedged against.

His hands roam up your thighs, grasping you like he can’t get enough. With each slow, deliberate stroke, he sinks deeper into you, your body arching off the table in response. The sensation of him rutting in and out of your sobbing sex is overwhelming—every movement has your breath hitching, your fingers clutching the edge of the table, desperate for some kind of anchor.

Your orgasm is building again, fast and intense. As the pressure inside you give way to climax, tears cascade down your burning cheeks, your features contorted in ecstasy.

“E-Evan, I can’t take it! T-too much!”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Say please, baby,” he grits out, his voice low and commanding. His hips thrust into yours harder, making you lose all sense of logic. Your mind is blank, mouth hanging open, unable to form words as the pleasure consumes you.

“P-please,” a pained mewl tumbles out of you, and that single word tips him off the edge. His hips stutter, and with a series of deep thrusts along with a carnal chant of “ah, ah, ah, ah” pouring from his lips, he gushes inside you—creamy gooey ropes of cum dribble into you, not missing at all.

He’s panting heavily, hips jerking involuntarily as he empties himself, filling you to the brim with thick, sticky cum.

His groans of satisfaction blend with your breathy moans as you cling to him, feeling his weight stick against your skin like it’s adhesive. You bite into the soft skin of his neck, muffling your whimpers as he continues to thrust lazily, drawing out every last bit of his orgasm.

“Come for me,” he demands, his voice low and raspy, each word filled with the same raw desire that’s coursing through your veins. “I wanna feel you.”

That’s it—the words, the intensity, the feeling of him completely owning your body, claiming you in a way that makes your head spin—have you on a chokehold. You suck in lungfuls of air as the incoming pangs of orgasmic waves smash over you with impossible force. You can’t hold back the loud moans spilling from your lips, your body arching up and writhing beneath him as you come hard, your walls spasming around his cock.

He presses his forehead to yours, his hand gently stroking your cheek, his breath hot against your lips. Your body convulses uncontrollably in his arms as he rides out your climax with you, his cock still throbbing inside your over-sensitive core.

As you come down, your breaths laboured and uneven, he buries his head to your chest, his mouth warm against your skin as his kisses travel down to your boobs, his tongue flicking over your sensitive nipples. Each subtle touch sends aftershocks of pleasure through you, your body still buzzing from the intensity of it all.

You huff, a breathless laugh escaping your lips. “You’re a menace, you know that?” you whisper, still trying to catch your breath. But he’s not done yet. You giggle softly as he moves lower, planting tingly smoochies to your skin, his breath like a warm breeze against your thighs.

“You smell like honey… I wanna taste you,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the soft curve of your inner thigh. His fingers part your sloping folds, spreading you open for him as he watches the glistening cum leak from your swollen pussy. His primitive need to eat you up tests his sense of control.

His tongue plunges between your labia, stretching them up with a slow and deliberate lick. Your thighs quiver around his head in the aftershocks of your climax, straining moans and semi-shrieks falling from your lips as his tongue dives deeper between your folds. The wet sound of him slurping up the mix of your juices and his cum is obscene, but it only drives you wilder, especially as he mumbles the moto, “Y/N... Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Your fingers lace in his drenched thick, curly brown locks, holding him in place. The untamed animal inside him is finally sated, fed well at the meal between your thighs. His teeth sink ever-so-lightly into the plump pout of your lips, and you can’t stop the desperate little wails flipping from your throat.

Your eager pussy can’t help but drool. Streams of your slick cascade down between the crevices of your thighs and coat the entirety of his fingers. With a rosy flat tongue, he pads and licks you clean, taking every few seconds to pull his fingers in—only to push them right back out. As he re-enters, he pokes against your g-spot again, and again, and again…

That’s all it takes for the sharp twisting coil to snap within you for the second time, and your thighs turbulently shake within his feeble grasp. “Fuck, fuck,” you choke out, your breath coming in hollow bursts as you feel his hushed praises and loving words ghost against your clit. You can’t stay still for the life of you—it’s as if every muscle in your body rips apart once you come into his mouth, your jaw slackened and your eyes widened.

“Ohmygodohmygod,” you ramble, and Evan’s still flicking his tongue against your sobbing slit.

You’re making a mess out of him, and he’s still eating it up—the dedication. His chin got such a pretty glimmer of shine all thanks to your slick running down. With an echoing pop, he slides his fingers off your pussy, stretching his digits further apart just to see how your sap glues against them. The shaking from your multiple orgasmic release keeps on, the ringing in your ears never subsiding.

“Mmph, Y/N. So beautiful,” he cries out, his voice cracking with emotion as he presses a kiss to your swollen, sensitive lips. Your sweet slickness smears against his stubble even more, but he couldn’t care less. All that matters is you, lying there beneath him, glowing with the outcome of your pleasure.

Evan’s gaze lingers on you for a long moment, his chest still heaving as he melts in the sight of you—flushed, trembling, thoroughly wrecked from the intensity of what just happened. His hand gently strokes your thigh, trailing up and down in soothing circles as the both of you come down from the high together.

Propping your weight on your elbows, you stare down on him, a lazy grin playing at the corners of your lips. You pull him up for a sloppy, rough kiss. Your fingers pinch on his well-defined jaw as he rests on top of her. You can feel his stiff length press against her stomach, and it feels great.

You reach up to brush his damp hair from his forehead. “You really know how to leave a girl breathless,” you mumble teasingly, though your voice is barely above a whisper, still catching.

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek against your palm. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispers, and you giggle softly, the sound light and airy.

You lay there for a while, the after-sex haze still buzzing through your veins. Evan’s sprawled out on the sofa, shirtless. His hair is all tousled, looking like some kind of model from a cologne ad—except sexier, and definitely more accessible. You watch him, feeling a dopey grin spread across your face. This man… God, this man.

You pull yourself up, snuggling into that familiar blue blanket from the edge of the couch—the one you always steal when it’s movie night, or when you’re feeling cosy after a particularly intense workout (aka “fuck time”).

“You look like a smurf burrito,” Evan quips, his hand lazily draped across his abs as he watches you pace around the room.

You snort, cuddling deeper into the blanket. “Better than looking like a sweaty, shirtless disaster.” You throw him a wink and a brow waggle, but honestly, the view is prime real estate right now. That man should charge admission.

He smirks smugly, running a hand through his messy curls. “Sweaty, shirtless disaster, huh? I was under the impression you were enjoying said disaster inside you just a few minutes ago.”

“Touché,” you giggle as you flop down the sofa, letting your head fall back against the armrest. “But the jury’s still out on whether I enjoyed it or tolerated it.”

“Oh, is that so?” His eyebrow quirks, and that playful gleam you love so much flickers back in his eyes. He leans forward, crawling towards you on the sofa with that predator-like grace, his hands landing on either side of your bundled-up self.

“Maybe.” You bite your lip, trying to keep a straight face, but your heart's already doing flips at the way he’s looking at you. Damn, those eyes.

“Hmm. Well, maybe I should just—” Evan dips down, his lips grazing your ribcage, making you gasp. You wriggle away playfully, pulling the blanket up higher as if it’s some kind of armour.

“Okay, okay! I loved it. Five stars on Yelp, glowing review and a side of fries.” You’re laughing now, barely able to keep up the act.

Evan chuckles triumphantly, that warm, rumbling sound that makes your pulse leap in your throat. “Five stars? Well, that must make me the Michelin Man of love.”

“Please,” you laugh, “the only thing you’re qualifying for is most likely to be found with a pizza slice in hand.”

His grin widens, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. “Well, speaking of pizza, how about we start planning our wedding menu? I’m thinking pepperoni and extra cheese for the wedding cake. You know, something to make the guests feel like they’re in a pizzeria.”

You roll your eyes, giggling at his ridiculousness. “So, pizza-themed wedding, huh? What are we going to serve? Breadsticks as the bouquet?”

“Absolutely! And the best part? I’ll have a pepperoni ring!” He starts mimicking a ring toss, and you can’t help but crack up.

“Oh wow, my future husband is a real romantic,” you say, shaking your head in mock disbelief.

But then Evan leans in closer, his expression turning serious, and you feel the air shift. “But really, I want to make sure I don’t just slice into this whole ‘life together’ thing. I want to do it right. So, how about we order that wedding cake now because…” He reaches into his pocket, and your heart skips a beat as he pulls out a small velvet box.

You narrow your eyes in suspicion as you sit up. “What are you doing? Is this some kind of prank”

“Well, not exactly a prank. Unless you think proposing is some kind of joke.”

Your heart stops.

“What?” The word barely squeaks out, and you’re pretty sure your brain just exploded. Did he—did he just say proposing?

Evan’s mouth pulls into this soft smile, and before you know it, he’s dropping to one knee on the sofa. “I mean, I’ve got the ring and all that the protocol requires,” he mutters and your eyes bulge, mouth agape. “...and I don’t want to waste another minute from making you my wife!”

Your heart stops.

You leap up from the sofa, shaky hands flying to your mouth, shock flooding your system. The blanket almost slips off, eyes wide and heart pounding like you’re on the world’s most chaotic and steepest rollercoaster. Did he—did he also just say wife? “Are you serious?”

“Y/N,” he starts, his voice a little shaky but full of that Evan confidence that always makes you feel like the only person in the room, “I’ve been through a lot lately. We both have. But the one constant through it all—through the tough days and the good ones, the sleepless nights and the mornings I wake up next to you—is that I want every single day to be with you.”

Your eyes are already welling up, and you try to blink back the tears because oh my God, he’s really doing this.

“From the moment I saw you in that club, I never looked away. We started off with a bang, quite literally, but I’ve felt like I’ve known you my whole life and won the love lottery. You’re my jackpot. The reason I smile—even when I feel like I’ve hit every bump on the road. You make even the ordinary feel extraordinary, and I want to make this last forever.”

Your eyes are already welling up, and you try to blink back the tears because oh my God, he’s really doing this. Your pulse hammers so loud you swear he can hear it. And then it hits you. Yes.

“So here I am, making it official, ready to take a gamble on the biggest bet of my life. Will you marry me and make me the luckiest man on the planet?” He opens the little box, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen—a subtle and stunning band with a sparkling diamond that seems to catch the soft light of the room just right.

You can’t even form words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish, and your heart throbs so hard, you’re sure it’ll burst out of your chest.

“You drive me crazy in the best way possible. You’re my best friend, my partner in crime, my favourite person to order burgers with. I want to spend the rest of my life making you laugh, making you mad, and maybe every now and then... sweeping plates off the table to get to you faster.” He smirks, his eyes twinkling.

“Evan!” you gasp, half-laughing through your tears, remembering the chaos from a few minutes ago.

He chuckles heartily, but there’s something so tender in his expression now. “So, will you do me the honour of marrying me?” He opens the little box, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen—a simple yet stunning band with a sparkling diamond that seems to catch the soft light of the room just right.

You can’t even form words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish, and your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure he can hear it. And then it hits you. Yes.

“Yes!” you shout, your voice breaking with joy as you toss the blanket aside and fling yourself into his arms, knocking him backward onto the sofa. He laughs as you straddle his waist, hugging him tight, tears of joy streaming down your face.

“I love you,” you whisper breathlessly, kissing him hard, your heart swelling with so much love it feels like it might burst.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, smiling up at you as you kiss him again, both of you tangled in this beautiful, overwhelming moment.

He slips the ring onto your finger, and you hold your hand up, marvelling at how perfectly it fits—how perfectly it all fits.

And as you both lie there, wrapped up in each other and the ridiculousness of the moment, Evan chuckles. “So, Smurf burrito, looks like you’re stuck with me for life.”

You laugh, smothering his face with smoochies of aggressive cuteness magnitude. “Lucky me. Now... about those burgers? I’m still hungry.”

Evan grins, pulling you closer. “First, how about I show you just how well I can speak your love language?”

“Burgers first, then more disaster sex,” you tease, giggling as he tries to tickle you.

“Deal,” he whispers, stealing another kiss, because honestly, in this moment, you’re the best thing on the menu.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling, @babymazz

Announcement

This might not be a forever goodbye, and who knows, a spinoff of this series might pop up someday, but this is going to be the final part, y’all. I’ll admit, I sometimes feel like I’m navigating through a tiny room with towering walls in this digital space; like my creative expression is being restricted and policed, and I cannot fully communicate or channel my “writing persona,” if you will, in here. Still, every bit of your love and support has made it worth it. I’ve poured so much into this world, and Evan, well… he’s been an incredible muse through it all. So, thanks a bunch, truly. xx

108 notes · View notes

sunshine-theseus · 11 months ago

Text

Meme Girls | Zecira Mušovic x Reader

Words: 2.7k Summary: doing a video with Zecira leads to a lot of unnecessary angst Warnings: angst, poor early a.m. writing request for - @wosofanfics note: y'all i'm sorry if this sucks. it has been proof read but i'm literally half asleep and it's 1:15am. i hope it's good.

“Welcome back to another episode of Meme Girls.” Laughter breaks out across the room as Zecira tries to introduce the video, tripping over her own tongue.

Aggie and I are sat on bean bags facing each other, Zecira between us. We were supposed to doing a football challenge with some of the other girls for someone’s YouTube channel but whoever was supposed to be joining the goalkeeper here had to pull out. That left us.

“To my- stop laughing! To my right side, Agnes Beever Jones!” I give a small cheer and clap as Aggie throws her hands up in the air, all of us laughing simultaneously. The camera man gives us a dirty look, a sign for us to hurry this up.

“And to my left,” I give her a wink when Zecira turns her head to look at me.

“Y/n, the hotshot, L/n!” I can hear some of the girls outside the door, cheering on as well as they pass by, some even whistling.

“Why does she get a cool nickname? That’s not fair.” Aggie complains, adjusting herself in her beanbag to look at me.

“I’m simply better.” A cheshire grin is thrown her way.

“When Emma tells you training is cancelled because of the rain.” The prompt is arguably quite easy but we both spend some time contemplating which photo suited it best. Aggie holds up a relatively old picture of Fran, clearly walking off the bus for a game, her thumbs are up, and earphones are in.

“Completely chill. A day to relax and have no worries, spend time with friends. Whatever you want.”

“Nah it’s time to celebrate. That call is rare and I’m appreciating every damn second.” I rather aggressively pull my photo from the stack of cards. A picture of me from last season after a UWCL game against Lyon, my shirt clutched in my hands as I knee slide into the corner after scoring the winning goal.

“Wow. You look really good there.” Zecira’s voice is pretty alluring as she compliments me, and I turn a fiery shade of red.

“This isn’t fair. Z is going to pick you because you’re in love or whatever.” The young striker whines.

“You and the fans with those stupid speculations. We’re just best friends.” I avoid looking at Z as I try to jokingly tell Aggie off, her eyes rolling at my denial. What I do miss is the light that dims in Zecira’s eyes as I say it.

“Whatever you say.”

We’re given a few more prompts before the media manager calls time. I end up winning 3-2, Aggie tossing a fit by throwing her cards at me. Her fake childishness is scolded by one of the onlookers, clearly too serious in comparison to us, but we only continue to laugh as we stand from the bean bags. I take hold of Zecira’s hand to help her up as well but pull too hard, the Swede falling forward as I rush to catch her. My hands slip under her shirt as I grab her hips and both of us blush a deep red as I try to apologise, trying to forget the feeling of her skin beneath my hands.

The next few days between Zecira and I are awkward. Between the tripping situation and the comments from Aggie, our relationship had been strained and neither of us wanted to bring it up, so we didn’t talk at all. The things fans had to say under the video didn’t help.

‘Zecira and Y/n are definitely dating right?’

‘Find someone who looks at you the way Z looks at Y/n’

‘New favourite friends to lovers.’

They were funny, sure, but untrue. At least that’s what I told myself whenever I looked at my best friend, dark hair tucked behind her ears while laughing at something Guro said, and I felt jealous. Or when I go to score a goal in training and she dives for the ball, her shirt riding up and the tight muscles of her abdomen flashing briefly, and I can feel my face heat up and my stomach tighten.

And eventually, due to popular demand, I’m back in another video, facing Sam in a ‘Meme Girls Championship’.

“Welcome to the Meme Girls Championship. Today we have the two winners of the previous games, Samantha Kerr and Y/n L/n. Are you ready?” Sam lets out a guttural scream and I simply nod, trying not to freak out about the tingle in my leg where Zecira and my legs touch.

“Here we go. When you make a tackle outside the penalty box, but the other team still get the penalty.” I flick through my cards, searching for the best one, but Sam is ready in no time.

She holds up a picture of Zecira and Ann-Katrin, standing side by side with sour looks on the faces. It’s good enough for a chuckle but I’m certain I can get a better one. I eventually land on a picture of Jessie. She’s dressed in an old training kit, hands covering her face, clearly disappointed in something.

Zecira takes a moment, looking back and forth between the two photos we’re holding up.

“Zecira. You’re in it.” Sam gives her a side eye, hinting at the fact she thinks she should win.

“Wifey Z. You know this is the better one.” The nickname had been a running joke between us for some time, so neither of us think much of it, despite the obvious fact we probably both wished it meant more.

“Mmmm, I have to go with Y/n’s.”

“No! These cards are unfair! I used that last time and you picked Jessie’s one of me breaking my shoulder!”

“Get wrecked Sammy.”

The comments under that video are unexpected. I don’t remember doing anything that would elicit any ‘couple’ comments, yet they were full of them.

‘I think Y/n just accidentally exposed their relationship at 1:17’

‘WIFEY? She knowwws. They’re definitely together, you don’t just call someone your wife.’

So apparently, I did imply we were a couple, but it was from a simple misunderstanding. The issue that comes with that is the inability to deny it. If you deny it, fans assume you’re hiding something, and obviously there was nothing to confirm, so we had to live with it.

Turns out it was hard to live with. Anytime either of us posted, those comments would pop up, asking us to confirm it. At games there were fans shouting it out. Even the girls began speculating whether we’d been secretly hiding a relationship for who knows how long. It was beginning to get tiring, especially when I have feelings for her.

I wanted nothing more to just go up and kiss her and tell her how much I like her, then the comments could be true, and I’d know that. Hopefully it’d also mean I’d get to hold her hand as we walk side by side and kiss her good morning every day. But I was certain she didn’t feel the same, so that was that.

~~~~~

It took a week after the video was posted for things to go back to normal within the team and between Zecira and I. Occasionally Millie or Jess would jokingly ask us ‘how the married life is’, or something along those lines, and we’d all just laugh.

It was a tradition between me and Z, that after a London derby, we’d pick a nice restaurant and go out for dinner. Both of us get dressed up and walk out of the stadium together, sign a few things and go. It started in 2021 and we hadn’t missed a dinner since. So obviously that’s what I prepared for when we had a derby coming up.

I had a new rusty orange, satin dress that I’d brought in preparation for the dinner. Hanging it on the rack in my cubby before I got changed into our warm-up kit always made me a little nervous, aware of the casual outfits that adorned everyone else’s wracks. I didn’t bother looking over at Zecira’s space, expecting her outfit to be hanging like it always was. Perhaps I should have.

The game was tough as always during a derby, and very physical. The likes of Katie McCabe and Caitlin Foord made it difficult to stay standing if the ball was at your feet and I knew I was likely to come out with bruises from the start. I must say I didn’t expect the black eye that began swelling after an elbow to the face from Lotte.

By half time I looked a wreck, and Emma was prepared to sub me off if they didn’t let up by 60 minutes. I’d lost count of the number of bruises that had begun developing on my legs and arms, even my torso was sure to be black and blue, and admittedly my eye was somewhat hard to see out of. I was also limping, a studs up tackle from Katie landing on the inside of my right ankle making the tissue rather tender.

“You’re going to look like that blueberry girl from Willy Wonka soon.” Zecira jokes as we make our way back out to the pitch.

“Heh yeah, dinner might be a little awkward for the other people around.” I get a smile back before she makes her way to the goal, and I head to the middle of the field to meet with Erin to do some short drills again.

The game ends in a tie. 2-2 across the board. I gathered more injuries as the game went on but nothing that wasn’t more than superficial, and I was buzzing to sign a few things and take some pictures with the fans before heading back and dressing up for dinner with my best friend.

Then I see them. Zecira is only a few people away from me at the barrier, talking to a guy. The conversation seems very interesting and sweet, nothing more than a footballer meeting a fan. Until they kiss. So, as her best friend, I make my way over. Why had she never mentioned him?

“Hey Z! Who’s this?”

“This is Tom. We’re dating, nothing official yet. He’s going to take me out for dinner tonight.” It’s hard to be upset when you see the smile that spread across her face. Her dimples were showing and there was a sparkle in her eye. But I wasn’t one to just let someone break a tradition after 2 and a half years.

“Tonight? What, after we go to dinner? You know, at the restaurant we’ve been waiting for a table at for months?”

“N- no I mean right after I get changed.”

“We always do tonight Z.” I start to seethe through my teeth.

“Well can’t you go like tomorrow or something?” I understand Tom was trying to help. I can only assume he wasn’t aware about the years long tradition between the girl he’s dating and her best friend. But I could imagine that if we were in a cartoon, steam would be coming out of my ears and my arm would be swinging, getting ready to knock him out in one hit.

“Uhhh, no. No we cannot. Because not only does it take months to get a table, we have to go tonight because it’s tradition. Routine. We’ve never missed a derby dinner once Zecira and like damn I’m going to let us start now. Not for some guy.”

“Common it’s just one. It’s not that big a deal. I’ll make up for it I promise.”

“Make up for it? There’s no making up this dinner. But have fun with Tom. I guess I’ll go get real dressed up, eat portions that are far too small and drink much too expensive wine by myself and be thrown looks all night. See you in training.” As I storm off, I catch glimpses of the remaining crowd that is yet to trickle out and realise perhaps I should have waited.

Now embarrassed as well as angry, I run down the tunnel in desperate search for an empty room. I eventually stumble into one and slam the door closed and lock it. The walls rattle and I hear something fall off one of them, but I find it hard to care as I search for the light switch.

Once I find it, it’s hard for me to hold back all the emotions that have been building up over some time. I rip my boots of and throw them at the door with all my might. I’m surprised the window doesn’t shatter.

“Stupid fucking feelings. Stupid fucking dinner. Stupid fucking Tom. Stupid fucking game.” The list goes on for some time as I cry, broken up every now and then by a scream.

Eventually I slump to the floor in the middle of the room and sob. My chest heaves and I struggle to breathe as I cry into the ground. The bruises and black eye are long forgotten as my lungs struggle to expand, and I begin to panic.

‘This cannot be fucking happening right now no no no.’ a panic attack is the last possible thing I need and I’m in a random room all alone. No one knows where I am. Everyone could have gone home by now.

My head is pounding. Or maybe it’s someone at the door. I’m not sure. I don’t have the energy to figure it out.

‘I hope someone finds me soon’ is probably the last thought I’m aware of having. But then someone’s arms wrap around me. Their perfume is familiar, but I can’t quite place it as they hook an arm beneath my knees and another behind my back. Most of my surroundings are lost, sight blurred and hearing fuzzy as I try to draw in more air, so I don’t know where I am until I feel a mattress beneath me.

I could identify the medical room beds in my sleep, and this was definitely one. After a few minutes of just resting there, my breathing started to slow and I came around. Newly aware of a hand gripping my own, I turn to the person beside me.

“Zecira? What are you doing here? You have dinner with what’s his face.”

“You’re more important. And, what you said on the field… you’re right. I was wrong in breaking tradition for some guy I’m not even really into. It’s- it’s just…” she trails off with a sigh.

“It’s just that, I needed something to take my mind off you.”

“Off me?”

“Yes. Look, after those videos we did on media day, and the one after, I couldn’t fathom the idea of me telling you how I feel and you rejecting me. I like you so much but I know you don’t like me back so I started going on dates. Tom was the only bearable one.”

“Wait wait wait wait. You think I don’t like you? Zecira, there aren’t enough words to express how much I like you. Seeing you with Tom, it, it made me mad about the dinner sure, but I was also jealous. I want to be the one kissing you and taking you on dates, holding your hand, celebrating a win.”

“What?”

“Kiss me you fool.” The angle is poor but despite it, we lean toward each other until our lips are connected.

It becomes quite a hungry kiss, but I pull away before it can get too heated, smiling at the girl in front of me.

“If we get ready and leave now, we could still make that reservation. Make it our first date?”

That’s how we end up hand in hand, waiting to be seated. The satin gown hugs me perfectly and compliments Zecira’s sage green dress.

“I’m really sorry for bursting up on you. Especially on the pitch.”

“I deserved it.”

“No you didn’t. Maybe you should’ve told me in advance but it didn’t warrant that reaction.”

“I should’ve spoken to you about what was going on.”

“Kiss me and we call it even?” her hair falls around our faces as she leans down to kiss me. It’s gentle and sweet and tastes like her vanilla lip gloss. Life feels good when you’re in love with your best friend.

#woso x reader #woso #womens soccer #wsl #woso fanfics #chelsea fcw #zecira musovic #zecira musovic x reader #cfcw #meme girls

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crushvsky · 11 months ago

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I need someone to write a TBoSaS Snowjanus ( possibly SnowJanusBaird?) where at some point during their stint in District 12 Coryo just looses his shit at Sejanus’s poorly thought out rebellion attempts and ends up yelling an actually thought out, detailed workable plan about how to become president of panem and take the capital down from the inside over a period of like? I don’t know 10 years?

And both Sejanus and Lucy Gray look at each other, look back at him and then immediately come to the very wrong conclusion that this is a Plan Coryo’s had in the works for years not something he blurted out in the heat of the moment because he couldn’t stand Sejanus being so fucking stupid anymore. And because it’s such a well thought out plan to dismantle Capital society and stop the games they’re both very on board.

Except that this wasn’t a plan. But hey it gets him his boy and his girl and his presidency so what’s Coryo gonna do? Complain? Absolutely not. He’s just gonna go along with it because he’s still in control. He’s the only one that can play the game and has like an actual shot at politics so of course that’s where his place in the not a plan is. And he can just Not Do the rebellious parts and still keep his partners! It’s perfect!

Except it’s not perfect because Sejanus is impatient and starts a secret rebellion in the capital and Lucy Gray has heard rumors of district 13 more often then she can count and wouldn’t both of these things be a lovely gift for our rebellious pretty boy?

And long story long it’s like that one meme with the super villain who keeps unintentionally doing good deeds no matter what he does. Like take candy from a baby, turns out candy’s poison level of karmic goodness that he can’t get away from but like… seditious.

edit: this idea appears to be sticking around, I’m calling it Karmic Rebellion for now. If it keeps floating in my head, I might try and write the damn fic myself.

#a ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #snowjanus #snowbaird #rebellion #crack #fic ideas #sejanus plinth #lucy gray baird #coriolanus x lucy gray #sejanus deserved better #coriolanus x sejanus #karmic rebellion

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roseychains · 7 months ago

Note

this is SO embarrassing to ask I’m going anon but you probably already know who this is bc I have family issues. would u consider ermmm idk more brother sukuna 👀 hmm ermm oops who said that ahhahaahahha whoever asked that should be embarrassed haha embarrassingggg

-🫧

Brother Sukuna pt 2

a/n: I have not a clue who this could possibly be, not a single idea 🤫

C/w: platonic not a ship, fluff, crack?

Brother sukuna who has secretly taken you to get piercing and tattoos when you were still underage, against your parents wishes. “Who cares anyway? Not like your going to law school”

Brother sukuna who can’t help worth a damn on homework, but he can give you all his tips and tricks on how he cheated his way through highschool… it may not be honest advice but it’s definitely something

Brother sukuna who refuses to ever put a shirt on in his house even when you have friends or dates over. “For fucks sake put some clothes on.” “In MY house where I live? Funny joke.”

Brother sukuna who often takes “toles” or your food, or takes bites during the cooking process to “make sure it isn’t poison” very helpful, ryomen.

Brother sukuna who fights back for real when you try and play fight. If you swing at him he will grab your wrist hard enough to leave a bruise, glaring at you

Brother sukuna who is a whiny bitch when he loses video games, but at the same time he will always ask you to play with him when you can

Brother sukuna who is vocal and doesn’t hesitate to speak down upon/degrade people your close with to your face or even there’s if he doesn’t like them. “Why are you even friends with her? She’s a piece of shit, have better friends.”

Brother sukuna who gives you old clothing/jewelry he doesn’t wear anymore if you want it, don’t try stealing his shit tho or he will get pissy

Brother sukuna who drives you places, but will refuse to drive specific friends of yours he doesn’t like. He’s childish in that regard

Brother sukuna who on social media, will send you stupid memes and clown on you when you post, lovingly of course…

Brother sukuna who ain’t turning the music down for shit. His house, his rules but more like his house his lack of rules to enforce on himself

Brother sukuna who has probably needed you to bail him out of jail for something petty once. Like vandalizing someone’s house he didn’t like

Brother sukuna who may not text you first, but when he knows your out at a bar, club, especially if your alone or on a date he will secretly stay up in case you need a ride, or to get out of a dangerous situation

Brother sukuna who would get hella embarrassed if you saw him vulnerable in anyway, he doesn’t want you to think less of him. He may not show it but he holds you on high regard and cares what you think

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jujutsu ryomen #jjk ryomen #ryomen x reader

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tentakilly · 29 days ago

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Unpopular opinion but the SCP community thinks so objectively(as in one way) that a subjective(as in creative) explanation is immediately disliked or hated because it isn’t the normal sci-fi jargon.

(Rant/vent)

For being an extremely talented community of authors and artists and for being the world’s biggest collaborative writing project this community really, really hates a creative idea or observation that doesn’t fit a pre established cannon(just classic its always just classic).

A couple years ago on the SCP subreddit there was a kid asking how reality bending works there was over a hundred comments explaining the sci-fi world building and the op repeatedly responded to those comments with confusion they just kept explaining. When a commenter came in and explained it like it was an artstyle that comment and the ops comment thanking the commenter for helping them understand were downvoted into hell. You had to sort by controversial to find it.

A while back there was a post about how they didn’t understand SCP-3999 and wanted a little bit more explanation. All of the notes were filled with people explaining there hatred for the story and why it was bad. When the op kept asking for why the hate I other than it wasn’t scary they got shat on for it.

A while back on an old now dead account I commented on an SCP power scale meme(making fun of power scaling) that we could have them try and scale Darling Pink(and actual scp) because magical girls are allways a power scaler’s weakness(an actual problem in power scaling communitys). This joke was met with so many people going like “you can’t do that 682 solos” in a non joking way.

Speaking of 682 someone a while back said that there headcannon for it was that it was a thought experiment and that comment was met with so many people going “wrong 682 is an actual creature”.

One time there was a conversation about how there was this really good tale(forgot wich one) but a lot of people didn’t finish it because it was really long and wasn’t the kind of story they enjoyed. That conversation was met with “just finish it” and “if you don’t like it/understand it just read it better”.

Would you believe me if I said that all those examples came from my experience. This god damn “community” nearly killed my passion for art and writing on several occasions because I thought differently than everyone else.

Just like I’m belittled and looked down upon irl I’m mocked for thinking differently here no matter the site. It’s been like this since I joined the community at 10. No one bothered to ask if the questions came from an insecure child and mocked her relentlessly. Telling her, her art was bad and wouldn’t improve. Telling her she didn’t deserve to have her art seen by the world.

To this day I’m scared of posting officially on the wiki dot because i know my art and stories will get mocked relentlessly because they’re different. Because they’re mine. Because they’re a part of me. You guys nearly killed apart of me because you couldn’t handle a very obvious child’s questions about the story and world you built together. Because a child was looking for a place to hide from the world that was hurting her and you failed her and made her actively scared of participating in a community that’s supposed to be collaborative. The community that raised her.

My oc Toby Miller. I’ve posted about him only once compared to the rest of my SCP ocs and that’s because he’s so deeply connected to my struggles of being understood that I’m afraid of taking about him despite him being the main character because he will be called stupid. He will be mocked for being different than all the other official characters. He will be belittled and be nothing more than a dumb kids oc.

Yall can’t look beyond a surface level understanding and when people’s interpretations of a story vary vastly you get mad and kill there want to participate. It sucks.

#scp #scp foundation #rant post #vent post

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cecropiacrown · 5 months ago

Note

for the kiss prompt meme! fengqing and 49? 👀

I took this one a bit literally, hope you don't mind. Thanks for the ask! :) #49 a kiss out of necessity

“What are you saying?”

“Are you deaf, or just stupid?” Mu Qing crosses his arms, jutting that regal chin of his out and up in an arrogant display of self-righteousness.

Feng Xin would say the other martial god is looking down his nose at him, but Mu Qing’s eyes are still fucking closed. He seethes, unobserved, and clenches his fists so hard he’s surprised his gloves are still intact.

“A kiss?” Feng Xin tries to clarify, instead of bashing his head into the nearest wall as he has been so wishfully imagining.

“A man with a history like yours, I assumed you’d know what that meant.” Feng Xin knows Mu Qing would roll his eyes right now if he was able to—but he can’t—he just keeps talking.

“Yes, General. A kiss. A press of the lips. I don’t know.” Mu Qing waves his hand in the air dismissively, his head still held high, but his eyes still as magically closed as when Feng Xin first arrived at his chambers.

“I am not the one who crafted the damned curse. So, yes, a kiss. Or my eyes will stay this way.”

There is an underlying sense of unease to Mu Qing’s tone that Feng Xin is sure only he can pick up on, purely from the fact the two of them have known each other for 800 years.

“And before you ask—yes, I have tried to hold them open. And, yes, I still am unable to see.”

Feng Xin sighs and racks his brain for any other possible solution, but Mu Qing is growing more impatient by the second, if the tapping of his perfectly polished boot is any indication. Feng Xin holds back the groan of frustration that sits so readily at the back of his throat, and tries to bide some more time.

“Is… well, I mean. Is there no one else who could—”

This was, evidently, the wrong thing to say.

Mu Qing’s face is alight with unbridled fury as he whips his whole body in Feng Xin’s direction. His arms shoot down to his sides, and Feng Xin can tell he instinctively reaches for his zhanmadao even though the saber lays discarded on a nearby low table.

“What?” he spits, venomous and clearly defensive. He’s quite agitated now and throws his arms up in the air as he speaks, a habit he has had since his time as a mortal. His face twists and contorts, save for his eyes, which stay almost peacefully closed as he rants, “Is it such a cruel fate to kiss the austere and ruthless General Xuan Zhen that you’d sooner pawn off the task to some other poor, unfortunate—”

“Stop.”

“—soul? What—is it so beneath the mighty General Nan Yang that he’d rather—”

Feng Xin crosses the room in an instant and grips Mu Qing by his shoulders before he can stop himself. He has half a mind to shake him, as if that could knock any sense into him, but he knows better.

“Enough.”

Mu Qing draws in a quick breath through his nose, his face pinched unpleasantly as he stoically faces forward.

“Unhand me.”

Mu Qing’s voice is low, like a threat, but it’s tinged with something else that Feng Xin can’t quite place. Something delicate.

“Fine,” he says, and pushes Mu Qing back a little out of habit before he removes his hands completely.

“But stop speaking such nonsense.” Feng Xin straightens his own robes and clears his throat. “Of course I will help you. You’d be a fool to think I’d allow you to remain this way and leave me to watch over the South on my own.”

Mu Qing sets his jaw, his mouth twisting into a snarl, but he says nothing. His arms are crossed over his chest again and his hands… his hands are shaking.

“Are you nervous?” Feng Xin asks before he has the sense not to.

“No,” Mu Qing snaps, like the notion itself is preposterous.

But Feng Xin sees the way Mu Qing presses the tips of his middle finger and his thumb together, drawing small circles, and he knows he’s caught him. Now that’s an anxious tick he hasn’t seen the other god display in centuries.

“Then why are you trembling, General?”

“I’m not.” Mu Qing says this through gritted teeth, as if this helps his case.

“Ah, but you are.” Feng Xin reaches forward now and, with a featherlight touch, he cradles Mu Qing’s face in his palm. The other god noticeably stiffens, but that near-imperceptible tremor in his hands is still there. Whether because he is stubborn or because his lack of sight limits his range of movement, he does not pull away.

“Remember now, it’s your eyes that are closed. Mine have been open the whole time.”

Mu Qing swallows audibly and Feng Xin tracks the movement down his pale throat until it’s hidden by the top of his collar.

“Mu Qing,” he says quietly and Mu Qing’s mask of indifference instantly crumbles. With where Feng Xin’s hand rests along Mu Qing’s jaw, he’s in prime position to feel the spike he just caused in the other god’s pulse.

“Be still. I’m going to kiss you now.”

Mu Qing’s breath goes ragged and Feng Xin feels the jaw under his palm go taut.

“It’s okay,” Feng Xin breathes, and guides his face slowly closer to his rival’s. He trails his hand down Mu Qing’s jaw to rest at his neck, gently thumbing at the soft skin of his earlobe.

He gives Mu Qing ample time to pull away, to decide he doesn’t want Feng Xin to take his first kiss after all, but Mu Qing surprises him. It seems Feng Xin’s gentle caress has Mu Qing softening, just a little, because there’s something so bashfully pliant about the expression he’s making. Feng Xin can hardly take his eyes off of him. And even though he closes his eyes, he swears that when their lips do finally touch, that Mu Qing leaned forward to meet him there.

The kiss is oh so tender; quiet in a way the two of them never are. It’s brief too, lasting only a few moments, but when they part, there’s a lingering warmth that radiates through them both.

Feng Xin sees the moment Mu Qing opens his eyes and looks at him—sees him—and he realizes his hand is still on Mu Qing’s neck. He lets his eyes rove over the thin jaw, those soft lips, before he pulls back completely and straightens out his sleeves.

“Cured?” Feng Xin asks, even though he knows the answer.

“Cured,” Mu Qing replies quietly.

Feng Xin isn’t sure he’s ever heard Mu Qing speak in such a hushed tone and he finds himself wanting to hear it again.

“I suppose I’ll be on my way then. Wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Right. Good of you to know your place."

As Feng Xin reaches the door, his hand poised to open it, he turns to speak over his shoulder, finding he desperately needs to know the answer to this question.

“Why ask me?”

“Why would I ask anyone else?”

Feng Xin smiles and slips silently out into the corridor.

#fengqing #feng xin #mu qing #ask prompt #I love these two so much #I usually don't write them within the canon universe #but I felt this prompt suited the southern gods best #idk some kind of curse where his eyes will remain closed until he's kissed #something something love makes you blind #idk I'm not a genius

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34saveme34 · 9 months ago

Text

Snowtrapped 2 but it's emotional instead

I barely edited this thing but I must post it <3 I like it too much tbh

anyways light touches of suggestive, and references at snowtrapped obviously, although they don't outright talk about it, no cover this time we die like men

anyways word count: 4602

It started like any other day. With the usual arguments following them, as they perpetrated the intense part of their dynamic. 3 agitated 4, 4 agitated 3, hijinks ensued. It was how it always went these days. The 2 were fine with this… for the most part. The worst part of this was that both of them were sensitive but still liked to mess with each other. They had to walk a thin line for nothing bad to happen. And boy, was that hard.

It was a snowy day, and 3, 4 and friends went to an especially snowy place as a vacation. They all deserved it. Although, the snow could bring out memories for the 2, it was a bit easier now to push it to the back of their heads. It was the past. It was a different time. They were different. They felt different. They’re friends at this point! Although 3 seemed to deny it a lot, 4 could see through that. Which is also why it was so tragic when he accidentally pushed 3 too hard and had to again see the man upset by his own actions. It always reminded him of the past. Something he had a complex relationship with, as it was something that affected him to this day, with all its differences, similarities and furthermore things that would just confuse him. Confuse him in so many ways. He wished he had answers. Maybe he wished a bit too hard.

As their snowy hijinks, which they were doing with their friends brought them to an all too familiar situation: being snowed in. No escape. Only each other’s company. It was almost like faith that it was only those 2. Or maybe it was planned, who knows.

“Ugh…” 4 got up as he fell in pretty hard, he was on top of 3, more or less.

“Get off me, you bitch!” 3 quickly pushed him off, annoyed at 4.

As they got up, looking at the door, both realized what happened. And that they were stuck together.

“You’ve got to be kidding me” both said at the same time which made the 2 glare at each other.

“This is all your fault!” 3 yelled at 4.

“Mine??! How would it be mine?? I wasn’t the one launching a whole damn avalanche!”

“Shut the fuck up” 3 sat down, grabbing at his face. It seemed he was trying to keep at least some sanity.

“No, you shut the fuck up!” 4 said, also sitting down, facing away from 3.

Truly maturely they stayed like this for a while not uttering a word. But soon, the cold set in.

“Hey… 3…. m… my man” 4 sat beside 3, who looked at him cautiously.

“Yeeees?” he squinted at 4, not trusting him for a second.

“I’m cold”

“Well, shit, 4, I don’t control the weather!”

“No, I mean-”

“I’m definitely not desperate enough for that yet…”

“Yet?” 4 teased him, for which 3 hit him hard in the head.

“Stupid”

“In the meantime while you get over that, we could try and get out somehow. At least try.”

3 sighed as he got up.

“You’re unfortunately right…”

“Maybe we could even find a meme and use it to get out!”

“Yea, good thinking” 3 mumbled it a bit, although 4 could still understand.

“Don’t know why you need to be so defensive about me being right”

“YOU do the same thing as well”

4 was about to protest but realised that 3 was kind of right.

“Oookay…”

They started really examining the place. Not much food, no meme in sight, a single blanket folded neatly in a closet.

4 took it for himself fast.

“Hey, you hogger!” 3 glared at 4.

“As I said before-”

“I’m not cuddling your stupid ass!”

4 looked down to his feet. He knew that it was just their thing but.

“I really thought we got further…”

“What did you say?” 3 looked at him with an expression that was hard to read.

This scared 4. He wasn’t sure what to do, repeating it felt like a hard task, so he just stared.

“You can’t just talk in half sentences, 4”

“I just… thought you’d be more comfortable with me at this point”

3 was about to protest but thinking about it, he really should’ve been less stupid about it.

“I can’t just- I’m tense, okay, I’m tense! Are you happy now that I told you??”

4 chuckled.

“You never really tell me. I just have to guess myself how you feel”

“Well, you aren’t the easiest case yourself- it- ugh, I don’t want to go into it, definitely not right now-”

“Into what?”

“It doesn’t matter, forget about it”

“3…”

“Don’t 3 me”

4 sat down with the blanket under him so it wouldn’t be as uncomfortable to sit. 3 paced around for a bit. Tried to use his hands as shovels to maybe get out then quickly gave up. This kept repeating. It was kind of tiring to watch. 4 was on the verge of commenting on it. But he could see that he shouldn’t: 3 looked close to snapping. He knew that look. It was upsetting.

Especially as 3 seemed to tire, having to keep up with the cold, now he was starting to feel it too. He leaned against the cold wall, trying not to let the cold get to him.

4 was watching him. It was awful to watch. He could see 3 slowly slipping down against the wall.

“Alright, that’s enough” 4 had enough of this as he wrapped his arms and blanket around 3, who didn’t have nearly as much fight in himself as before.

“Dude…”

“What?”

“...Thanks.” 3 lightly leaned closer into 4 arms. That was shocking to 4. He wasn’t sure how to feel.

Sure, he insisted on 3 joining him, but he… never really considered what he would do once he did. He never considered what would happen if 3 didn’t fight him. The comfort made him weird. He wanted to stay somewhere deep in his heart but decided to just slip right out of the blanket and just put it on 3.

“Oh..?” 3 looked at him, the weakness in his eyes showing. He looked painfully genuine.

“I’ll try myself this time”

3 glared then looked away from 4. It was hard to tell what he might be thinking.

4 tried to separate the snow. It was easy, the snow was soft yet cold, and the more he would shovel with his hands to the side, the more would fall in. He panicked, which made him feel agitated as he started to get faster with it. He got so fast the snow of the ceiling fell on him, leaving him colder than ever.

3 rolled his eyes.

“I always think you can’t be more stupid but you always manage to prove that wrong”

“Sh-Shut U-Up” 4 was practically shaking from the cold. Who knew he was so sensitive.

3 sighed and got up. He brushed the snow off of 4. Usually such casual touch wouldn’t be this bad for him but the isolation was getting to him. He cared so much. But, right now, especially right now, he didn’t want that to come out. He didn’t want his caring side out in the open, for 4 to witness and tease.

to his surprise 4 only gave him a soft smile before adding a few words to his reaction.

“You didn’t need to do that, I can take care of myself”

3 was disappointed.

“I don’t want to be in the same space with a dead body”

“Hey now, you’re already thinking of me dying??”

“Well… It would be funny now that you say it” 3 grinned.

“I don’t find it funny”

“When did I say I care?”

“I see through you, my friend, I do”

“You’re as blind as a bat actually”

“I’m not, I got the 20/20 vision going for me!”

“Crazy if true, considering how much you’re on your pc”

“SAYS WHO”

“ME”

The 2 glared at each other. For quite a few painful seconds. The tenseness in them took over as they started to fight physically.

Although it was one of those little slap fights. It felt less like a fight and more like a comedy bit.

The 2 separated, although 4 found himself cold again. He stared at 3 without realising.

“What?” 3 asked, in a defensive manner as if 4 was about to strip him with his eyes. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. It just further reminded him of past events… But they were different now, it wouldn’t happen.

4 took a bit but he did manage to snap out of it.

“Huh? Nothing! Nothing at all”

“You’re cold, aren’t you?”

“Noooo, what gave you the impression?”

“You shivering”

4 facepalmed. 3 was right, he couldn’t believe how obvious he was.

“Come here, I did say I don’t want to be stuck with a dead body”

4 resisted first but the cold got to him, he had to. He didn’t like it but he had to.

“Jeez, I didn’t think you would be this cold”

“Why did you think I was shivering”

“... Fair point”

4 leaned into 3’s chest, trying to get closer in a less uncomfortable way. It was really hard though, considering how they were just a few moments ago. He was too tired and cold to care though. He even wrapped his arms around 3, having a secure hold on him. 4 didn’t like how comforting this felt. Something about cuddling 3 felt different. Suddenly the memories hit him again, of the past. It made him feel a bit gross for his thoughts. He wouldn’t ever wanna think of 3 that way. Not again at least.

The 2 stayed silent for a while, it felt illegal to speak. Even though both of them still felt tense. 3 felt too weird in all this, he had to comment on it.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you enjoyed this”

“What?? You think I do?” 4 looked offended.

“You were cuddling me with the same glee Eggdog would and oooh he loves me a lot” he talked with with his baby voice at the end when mentioning his child. Just simply the thought of him made him feel happy.

4 rolled his eyes.

“I’m just trying to stay warm, really. If I liked cuddling you, I’d do it outside of dire situations like this”

“Like I’d care if you would… stupid”

“Would you?”

“No!”

“Oooh, but it looks like you would” he found 3’s reaction just a little bit entertaining. Indulging a little shouldn’t hurt much!

“Shut up! I wouldn’t! Even the hand holding feel unnecessary”

“Well, we had to do that, to save the world and all that stuff”

“Okay? Doesn’t change a thing. I don’t like to do it”

4 stared at 3, unimpressed. 3 felt a bit nervous.

“You’re as annoying as ever” 4 said as he got up “You know what, I rather freeze”

3 felt that struck at his heart. That HURT to hear, christ.

“The fuck you mean you’d rather freeze??”

“If you don’t want to be near me so badly, then I won’t bother you. I can try and bury myself in the snow so you don’t have to face me dead cold”

“Jeez, how kind of you to- HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND??? You THINK I WANT THAT??!”

“FELT LIKE IT”

“YOU DUMB IDIOT”

“DUMB AND IDIOT MEANS THE SAME THING”

“YES, I’M POINTING OUT YOUR SPECIALLY LACK OF SMARTS”

“FUCK YOU”

Aaaand they fought again. This time a bit more violent as 3 pinned 4 down.

“Any last words?” 3 was tired so he didn’t sound as threatening as he would’ve wanted to.

“You’re gay” 4 teased as he pulled 3 down on him with the little strength he had left. Unfortunately, this way they were left to stare at each other, it was kind of hard to pay attention to anything else when they were this close. 3 didn’t look amused. 4 chuckled.

“Gotcha”

“And you said you don’t want me near”

“I would push you off if I had the energy to”

“Nice excuse”

“It’s a reason, not an excuse”

3 sighed as he fully laid his head down on 4’s chest. He was now truly too tired to care.

“Why can’t we just get along”

“Cuz you’re a piece of shit”

3 looked at 4 again, clearly unamused.

“Like yourself, of course”

4 found it interesting how 3 deflected by calling him an ass too.

“Maybe, yeah… I don’t know why really”

“We’re just like this? I guess, I don’t know. We should be, right?”

“It’s… what’s the best, right?”

3 thought for a bit, some hard words on his mind.

“We’re… friends”

“I… I know”

Air felt heavy, as the 2 were trying to comprehend each other, what were they going for.

“You know…” 3 started, already feeling his face heat up “Ever since we became friends, it’s been… a bit less fun to be a villain. Juuust a smidge”

4 found himself smiling, hearing that his heart just warmed up whole.

“Glad to hear that…”

“It’s something I struggle with it a lot though”

“Why so?”

“Who… am I if not your local villain… who would I be?”

The question caught 4 so off guard, staring shocked at 3. He never thought 3 could feel that way. He kind of felt bad for a lot of the things he’s said and done now. He gently grabbed 3’s face by his cheek, by which he noticed 3 being a bit more hot. He was sure it’s just them slowly feeling weird from the cold.

“Hey now, don’t say that… you’re so much more… a cool streamer, a great meme guardian partner… a great friend, maybe… my greatest”

3 was practically turning into a heater from the compliments. But it definitely didn’t mean anything. 3 collected all his courage, to ask one thing he wanted to know.

“Your greatest?”

“Yea… pretty much”

“Isn’t it Mario for you?”

“You’re… different”

“Different?”

“Well, you know- yeah, you’re a friend in a different way than he is to me. You’re just… different… I guess, we just work differently”

“You mean the meme guardian stuff?”

4 glanced to the side, it was hard to guess what he could mean by that.

“That too”

“You know… I do kind of find it weird… that we have to hold hands to use our powers.. or at least touch”

“Yeah… but I don’t think you would be this close to me without it”

“Let’s not even think about that”

3 looked kind of bummed about the idea.

“Awww, you’d miss being friends with me that much?”

3 growled, though too tired to act.

“You say that like you wouldn’t”

“Of course, I would miss it so much” 4 said, hugging 3. The air being not so tense felt nice. It was easier to express himself.

3 was in deep, Jesus. He could barely think, besides lightly hugging back.

“You could’ve warned me at least”

“Nope, it’s more fun this way”

“But you said you care about me”

“There’s some privileges you’ll never get”

“Tch… stupid”

“Ahem… Tsundere”

3 stared at 4, a single word making him feel energy come back to him. Out of anger of course. God, that made him so so angry.

“Not that word again, no, shut the fuck up. No one wants to hear that, idiot”

“I wanted to hear it personally” 4 chuckled.

“For what? You’re implying you’re my crush or something? You’re wrong then, bitch” 3 got up, angrily pointing and gesticulating. Oh, that touched a nerve, didn’t it.

4 raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t say that… Only you did, just now”

3’s face was painted with realisation, as then colour drained from his face. Oh no, he did not fucking do that!!

“The word is literally used that way. How am I supposed to take it then? Why did you call me that anyways, asshole” 3 turned away from 4.

“I just found it fits… even in a platonic way. It’s so obvious you want affection but you still push people away”

3 looked back at 4 then away.

“Just like that” 4 sighed.

“You… YOU” 3 turned back “ You ALWAYS think you’re the bigger and better person”

“Well, I am right now? I’m not the one misinterpreting shit”

“You just have this air around you, you know? Like you always think you’re the god of this show! That nobody is better than you, especially me, I’m really tired of that. Really fucking tired”

“Are you really getting mad about me calling you a tsundere??”

“IT’S MORE THAN THAT”

“HOW CAN IT BE MORE???”

“IT’S A PATTERN… a long going one” 3 stared daggers into 4. It was like a whiplash compared to what they had previously.

“What pattern???”

“Stuff’s always about you. You’re always trying to one up me as well. It feels like whenever you butt into something, it becomes about you.”

4 stared. He didn’t know what to do with that information.

“You’re so weird. First you say you wished we were friends earlier, now you berate me”

“Because you can’t shut the fuck up when you need to. Maybe if you did, we would get along better”

“Well, MAYBE, if you stopped being an ASSHOLE, that would help a lot more”

“MAYBE. IF YOU STOPPED BEING SUCH A WHINY BITCH IT’D HELP EVEN MORE”

The 2 stared at each other, unsure whether to feel angry or sad.

“You know where it hurts, huh? You know me so well you know EXACTLY what to say to make me angry” 4 spoke, anger seething through him.

“Not hard when you get upset about everything!!”

“You make me more than upset”

“Oh yeah? What do I make you, huh? Tell me”

4 looked down.

“Confused. And sad. You make me sad”

3 stared at him.

“That’s it? Really?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Well, now I god damn do, not like I care about your thoughts”

4 had enough, as he got up and pushed 3 against the wall. It was cold, just as cold as 4’s stare.

“Do you REALLY want to know, 3?”

3 tried to look anywhere but 4. 4 grabbed 3’s chin.

“I… I guess… I can’t really back down now, can I?” 3 was visibly nervous.

“You make me so… bad. I feel bad, each time. I don’t know why”

3 still tried looking away from 4. This was starting to feel uncomfortable.

“So… you don’t even know how I make you feel, huh?”

“Well, how do I make YOU feel then? Huh?”

“Tense, very tense. Especially right now, with backing me into a wall and everything”

“Ah-” 4 stepped back, giving 3 his space back. He felt a bit embarrassed about what he did. He realised what that looked like now- he was glad it was only 3 to see him do something like this. Since considering how they were, this was definitely not getting out from between the 2 of them.

As they stood there, they felt cold again. 3 thought for a bit then grabbed the blanket and threw it over 4’s shoulder as he then leaned into him, shoulder to shoulder. It wasn’t too much to handle at least. 4 stayed silent but he didn’t move either. His head seemed to be full of thoughts.

“Hey… I’m sorry, 3… I gotta learn how to control myself around you”

3 looked at him, with a questioning look.

“I mean yeah but… what the hell do you mean? Around me”

“You just bring the worst out of me”

“Well… I can’t argue with that”

“I think… I do the same to you…”

“Hmm…”

Both stayed silent for a while, then 4 spoke words that had no right to hurt so much.

“It feels like we’d be better apart…”

3 didn’t even know how to react. He just… stood there. 4 couldn’t look at him for a bit, feeling his own words even claw at his own heart. But when he did… oh, he wished he didn’t.

He didn’t want to see 3 so sad, tears running down his cheek. His lips trembled looking back at 4 before punching him in the face.

“WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT??”

4 stumbled but didn’t fall. He was never able to say the right words.

“I… well” he felt himself getting drawn to tears as well “We… fight so much…”

“I care too much about you”

“I know but… look, it feels like we never get along… I care too and the idea hurts me too…” his tears came too, matching 3.

I just- I can’t do this-” 3 started pacing and suddenly decided to get back to the snow again, desperately wanting to get out.

4 felt guilty. He felt awful. He thought this would give him some peace of mind but it didn’t. He thought, he thought very hard- how could he solve this? How could he make this right for 3?

“How could I… make this right for you?” 4 asked, his voice weak.

“By shutting the fuck up” 3 continued shovelling the snow with desperation. 3’s hands felt cold. Way too cold. But at least it was almost distracting him from 4’s stinging words.

4 hated looking at what 3 was doing. He turned away, trying to close him out but the quiet sobs and the soft noises of the snow being shovelled by hand was too prominent in his mind. He wasn’t able to close it out, not even a little bit. He clenched his fists. He must do something. Anything. Just stop this.

3’s hands were starting to hurt so much he could barely take it. But it didn’t make him want to stop. What stopped him was 4 grabbing both of his hands and pulling him away from the snow. And 4 wasn’t easy on him, having strong grips on both his hands. As 4 felt just how cold 3’s hands were, he held on even more, pulling 3 close.

“I can’t… I can’t just watch you hurt yourself.. you mean too much to me”

“I thought you wanted us apart”

“Want and need are different”

3 looked ahead of himself, embracing he was now trapped in 4’s hold, as much as he didn’t want to be.

“Are you saying you need me?”

“Yes”

4 replied so fast, it made 3 feel a bit hot again.

“So… you need me, even if I… cause you to be worse?”

“I need you because I…” 4 stopped. 3 paid attention for a bit, waiting for an answer. The more seconds passed the more tense he felt.

“Don’t leave me hanging, dude!” 3 spoke nervously, he hated feeling this uncomfortable.

4 just didn’t move, not until he whipped 3 into a deep embrace, pulling as close as he could. It was the kind of hug you couldn’t escape from, no matter how much you wanted to. It was tight, scary, full of emotion yet somehow fulfilling. 3 slowly hugged him back. It still wasn’t quite as comfortable as he wished it should be, but the tightness definitely helped. He wished it would be just that easy to press the bad things out of him.

This lasted a while, neither wanted to speak. Neither knew what to say. But they both had a lot on their minds. But they chose to remain this way. At least for a while, some peace.

4 slowly pulled out a bit, looking at 3. 3 only noticed a bit after, his face still red from crying and the cold. The 2 just stared at each other. Felt like no one else existed to them but each other. It felt so obvious. It felt so obvious what they wanted, it was written all over them. Just a single thing on their mind, a simple yet disastrous wish. Something so easy yet so hard.

3’s grip tightened on 4 as he pulled him in, it happened so fast, yet 4 followed along immediately. The desperation finally kicked in. They needed each other so so badly and it showed. And when they’d pull away, they’d just pull right back in. Their lips touching were too addictive. It was a rush of excitement neither have felt in a while. 3 was the one to end up against the wall, then quickly switching to 4. 3 had a strong hold on 4 that made him feel weak. He didn’t know that feeling weak by someone could feel so good. It felt like it should be a crime.

They slowly let go, although they didn’t want to. Especially since they then had to face each other. It felt… weird. Where did this come from? Why were they both so into it?

“So… that happened” 4 awkwardly scratched his neck.

3 facepalmed.

“Is that all you’re gonna say?”

“Umm well… I guess I always liked you, heh,... uh… yeah”

3 couldn’t keep a straight face, he laughed. He found 4 ridiculous, yet somehow cute.

“I love you too, idiot” 3 replied finally, after leaving 4 hanging with just laughing.

4 looked down then back at 3. He was visibly getting so giddy it was a joy to watch. 3 pressed a kiss on 4’s cheek. 4 could explode the world with the happiness he was feeling. This whole thing really made him realise what he was feeling, as it was previously an unknown thing to him. He didn’t realise, even though he felt it badly. He’s a fucking idiot.

3 knew very well but it wasn’t exactly something he liked to think about. It was already hard to make friends, let alone admit his feelings for his ex rival.

“I’m… glad you do, 3”

“Do you know how hard it was to keep this away from you??”

“Uh.. no? I think you hid it well”

“That was the intention”

“Yeah… you know, I only realised just now”

3 blinked at 4.

“You.. You can’t be serious”

“Why can I not be?”

“Whatever… I’m just glad you feel the same”

“Yeah… we’re still trapped though”

“No shit” 3 sighed.

The 2 rested against each other. At least now they had less reason to be tense about that.

“I mean… the others know we got stuck, right? They should be able to help then…”

“I sure do hope so”

The 2 thought though, anything they can come up with. 3 had an idea float in his mind, now feeling like it’s less embarrassing to suggest.

“Hey so, 4… you know how we channel meme energy with touch?”

“Yeah?”

“What if… it’s possible to channel it with kissing as well?”

4 rubbed his chin then with seemingly zero hesitation, he pulled 3 in for a kiss, and concentrated. Maybe a bit too hard at that, or maybe it was just such a powerful move that the energy practically blew up around them. Their prison was gone. Literally, they blew the whole thing up with their meme energy kiss.

“Woah” 3 chimed up quietly, trying not to look too impressed but… meme explosion?? 2 of the greatest things together??

“Yippee we’re free we’re free!!” 4 hugged 3 and jumped up and down.

That’s when the crew noticed the 2, with 4 jumping around crazy. That’s just how it is with them sometimes. At least they chilled out now! It’s been needed for a long while now.

#smg34 #Nicc's-fics #opening up asks in case someone wants to yell at me #gen I'm up for discussions #just closed that before due to feeling a lil anxious #also you can yell at me if I caused light emotional damage with anything here

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carecarry · 3 months ago

Text

suddenly, even swallowing feels like trying to choke down a fucking cactus.

it's funny, you know? like, how just seeing your name pop up on my timeline—just your name, not even a picture—suddenly makes my throat feel like it's stuffed with cotton balls. swallowing? not an option. not when i’m hit with this weird-ass cocktail of feelings.

i mean, how do i even begin to explain it? we were never really together, were we? it was all just pings and pixels, late-night texts and stolen moments behind screens. but damn if it didn't feel real. it felt so real that now, when i see you, it’s like this giant, invisible hand is squeezing my heart just a little too tight. just enough to remind me that i’m still here, still breathing, still missing you.

and god, i hate how much i miss you. i hate that i’ve got this mental replay button that won’t stop flashing all the good shit we had—the stupid memes, the endless convos about literally nothing, and how we made each other laugh like idiots over the dumbest things. it’s like my brain is doing this sick little game of "let's remind them of what they don’t have anymore!"

it’s like when you’re so goddamn thirsty but the only thing left in the fridge is that nasty soda no one drinks, and you’re stuck with this dry-ass throat, craving something that isn’t there anymore. that’s what seeing you feels like—like i’m thirsty for something i can't have. and it fucking sucks.

sometimes i wonder if you remember me, if something random—like a song we used to share or that stupid inside joke we had—hits you out of nowhere and makes your stomach twist the same way mine does. or maybe you’ve moved on, maybe you’re out there living your best life, and i’m just a shadow in your memory—a faint echo of something that almost was but never really got the chance to be.

it’s pathetic, really, but i can’t help it. every time i see you, i think of how we ended things—not with a bang, but with this quiet, awful fizzle. like a sparkler that burns out before you’re ready to let go. and it hurts because, despite everything, a part of me still wonders what could’ve been if we’d just held on a little tighter, a little longer.

but here we are, right? just two people who once meant the world to each other, now reduced to fleeting moments, like passing thoughts in the back of our minds, lingering only for a second before we move on.

fuck, i really need to stop thinking about you. but damn, if that were easy, i wouldn’t be sitting here, typing this shit out like some lovesick idiot. because no matter how hard i try to move on, to forget, there you are—just a scroll away, reminding me of everything we had, and everything we lost.

#spilled thoughts #spilled words #love #emotions #feelings #text #in love?#love quotes #romantic? ig #words #lit #writing #pain management #hahaha help #hey keshi u got me playing understand out of nowhere #thoughts #diary #i hate it here #died suddenly

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elliereject · 1 year ago

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stupid bitch .1

* you and ellie have been friends for years but you only recently discovered that the way you liked her was more than just friendly. unfortunately, she’s already in a relationship with a toxic girl who (surprise!) does not like you. as their relationship starts to sour, you’re the one ellie always goes to for comfort and you oblige until you can no longer take the heartache and pain you’re feeling which causes you to finally confess…blurring the already thin line between yours and ellie’s ‘friendship’.

* infidelity, oblivious!ellie, meanish!ellie, pining, anxious thoughts

* first fic, based on girl in reds Stupid Bitch bc wow does that song make me scream. if this gets any traction at all ill post pt 2 and a couple others I have in the works :) feedback is appreciated, pls enjoy and interact!!

*mdni

*wc - 4k

part .2 here

You had a love hate relationship with Ellie.

Well, it was mostly love…who were you kidding, it was all love.

She’s been your best friend for years and you were so fucking glad she was apart of your life. She’d been there for you during the worst parts like when your parents didn’t speak to you for a month after you came out and the best parts like when you got accepted into your dream school.

Every great memory in your life, Ellie was there. She was someone you could rely on and who you knew would stick by you even when she saw the worst parts of you and you hoped she knew you would do the same for her. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with her. Of course, it wasn’t until she started dating her that you realized your true feelings.

“I’m telling you! She’s just—she’s perfect!” Ellie gushed, your stuffed animal being squeezed to death between her lean arms.

You forced a smile onto your face, a sour feeling thrashed in your gut. “I’m happy for you, glad you guys are hitting it off.”

“We’re more than hitting it off, we’re like, on the exact same wavelength..did you know she does her own tattoos? How fucking cool is that?”

You turned back around in the chair at your desk, trying to busy yourself with the schoolwork you were supposed to be doing and rolling your eyes at her rambling. The two had been seeing eachother for the last month and she did nothing but talk about her.

“Yeah I did know because you’ve told me a thousand fucking times..” You mumbled.

“Hm?” She asked, “Sorry, Cat just sent me the funniest meme.”

She spun your chair back around to show you the meme on a cracked screen and when you saw it you wanted to take her phone and toss it out the window.

“I sent you that like 4 weeks ago.” You laughed dryly.

“Oh, for real?” She mumbled, already pulling her phone back to continue texting Cat.

You rolled your eyes again, huffing when you picked up your phone to text Jesse. He was the only one who knew about your newly discovered crush on Ellie, other than her, you considered him your closest friend and he had comforted you when you came to his dorm, eyes filled with tears and guilt after you told him that you were in fact in love with your best friend.

im going to go fucking insane.

oh brother, what did she do this time?

she won’t stop fucking talking about her ☹️ she litrly just showed me a meme cat sent her that i SENT HER WEEKS AGO and she didn’t even remember

you know ellie tho she prob just forgor fr

jesse i Litrly cant do this anymore. I’m going to rip out my air and throw my laptop at the wall.

Rip out your air? How would that work, like a breathing machine??

Die

💪💗 sorry y/n im sure it’ll get better

😐 when?

…

Before you could see his response you dropped your phone in your lap when you felt Ellie tap your shoulder, “What?”

“Said I’m gonna go piss.”

“Oh, okay.”

She got up from your bed and when she left, her phone was still there.

You shouldn’t. It’s a complete and utter violation of her privacy. If she caught you, she’d probably never talk to you again…

But you knew her password, and it was right there and you were so damn curious.

Your hands moved before you could rethink and suddenly her phone was in your hand and your eyes were skimming over her messages.

You clicked on the thread with Cat and felt your heart seize when you read what she was saved as: my girl ♥️

Despite the searing pain you felt pang through you like a hot knife, you read on.

i can’t wait to cu tonight ;))

same, u can finally get started on my tattoo!

mhm 😇 can’t you come over a little esrlier? im so bored T_T

cant :( yk im hanging out with ★ rn

yeahhhh but she’d understand you’d wanna hangout w ur gf right?? she said she was happy we started dating so she can’t get upset

what the fuck?

yeah ig but irs been a while since I last saw her

plssss els :(( just wanna hold u rn

There was a little space between this message and the next, you figured it been when you and Ellie got caught up in a conversation about your mutual hate for one of your profs.

if u rlly don’t wanna see me jus say that.

yk that’s not true id love to see u rn

then COME, if she gets upset that’s not ur problem..she has to understand you can’t spend all your time with her

What the fuck was this bitch even talking about? She was the one trying to lock Ellie up. You were about to scroll down to see what Ellie had said but you heard footsteps and threw her phone back on your bed before pretending to be stuck on a practice question.

Ellie picked up her phone and you were so scared she’d notice you were on it you thought your heart was going to pop out of your chest and fall onto your desk.

“Hey..”

Dread filtered through your body. She knows, she knows and she’s going to confront you and she’s going to storm out and you’re going to lose your best friend and—

“I think I’m gonna head out, seems like you got a lot of work to do.”

You dropped your pencil and turned to look up at her, “Are you sure? I mean we could go somewhere if you want.” You didn’t want her to leave, you wanted her to stay in your dorm with you forever.

“No.” She said quickly, backing up “It’s fine, I’ll see you later.”

“Okay I’ll see you—“

She walked out your door, letting it close.

“Later.”

—★

It was a freezing December night the first time Ellie came to you, eyes ridden with tears over a fight with Cat.

Usually, it was her calling you up to have you come over and comfort her because Cat was ‘acting weird’ and ‘being mean’. But something serious must have happened for her to be here.

A few weeks had passed since that enlightening time at your dorm where she had practically flown out of your room to go see Cat. During the following weeks, the two of you had barely talked let alone seen eachother and when you did it was almost always about Cat. You understood that you were both busy with school and she was busy with her girlfriend and you didn’t know whether it was Cat or Ellie that had forced the two of you’s separation or if it was your own subconscious mind trying to protect you from getting hurt. Either way, you missed her dearly.

She was pounding hard on your door, and when you opened it she immediately rubbed her red rimmed eyes. She lived in the other dorm building and judging from her appearance you imagined she ran here as quick as she could; Snowflakes adorned her hair and eyelashes and her nose was red from the cold, she had an old green hoodie on and plaid pyjama pants. Even on the verge of tears she was still so unbelievably gorgeous.

“Ellie, it’s like 3AM..” You said groggily, you knew she had trouble sleeping but she usually texted you if she needed a distraction.

“I know just, please I need to talk to someone. And Dina’s with Jesse and Cat fucking—” She paused, sniffling.

You sighed, stepping to the side so she could come in and you could close the door that was currently blowing in cold air from the freezing hallway.

“What happened?”

“It’s Cat.”

Of fucking course. Fury engulfed you, Ellie wasn’t one to cry often or even come close to it so Cat must’ve done something pretty fucked up.

“She was being so distant and I don’t even fucking know what I did and then some fucker I don’t even know just sent me this,”

She shoved her phone in your face and the image made even more anger surge throughout you. It was blurry but you could still make out two figures, one with short black hair—Cat, and another unrecognizable. Cat had her arms locked around the mysterious girls neck and the two were not just kissing but full on frenching. You wanted to throw insults so bad but Ellie was upset and that was more important than dissing her girlfriend.

“Oh Ellie, I’m so sorry.” you said softly, pulling her in for a hug.

She sniffled and wiped her nose, “Yeah, thanks.”

“So, are you two..” you trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

“I don’t know, maybe. I sent her a text about the picture and told her to call me but she hasn’t answered.” Ellie said, pulling away.

“Ellie are you serious?” You questioned, looking into her green eyes. “She fucking cheated.”

Ellie looked to the side, avoiding your scrutinizing gaze.

“There could be more to the story.”

You scoffed, “Looks pretty straightforward to me, she went to party, made out with another girl and is completely ignoring you.”

Her jade eyes scanned your face before she shook her head, “You don’t like her.”

No shit you don’t like her.

“That’s not true.” You lied.

“Yes it fucking is! at first I thought I was overthinking it but whenever I bring her up you get this…this look on your face.” She accused.

“What look? This i—“

“That look!” She cut you off, pointing a long finger in your face. “Like..like you’re about cry or blow up or something.”

“I—“ Before you could defend yourself Ellie’s phone rang, the two of immediately knowing who it was. Ellie cleared her throat and answered before the second ring even started.

“Babe?” She croaked out and you winced, both at the nickname and the pain in her voice. You couldn’t listen to this.

“I think..you should go.” You said quietly, walking toward your door to open it for her.

Her eyes flashed to your face before she nodded and walked out, phone still close to her ear.

That night as you crawled back into your bed and warm tears hit your pillow you never wanted to rip out your heart more because the love you had for her was still there, never wavering and consuming you entirely even though you knew it would never be requited.

— ★

It’d been weeks since that night and since you’d talked to Ellie. You didn’t mean for the gap to stretch this long, you decided to give her some space after your…argument? And then you had finals, and then winter break where you went back home to visit old friends and reluctantly, your parents.

You came back two days before classes started up again so you could ease back into your routine. In the last few weeks you tried your hardest to push thoughts of Ellie out of your mind but you cared for her too much to completely disregard her and bits and pieces slipped through the guards you had put up.

You layed on your dorm bed, sighing as you stared at Ellie’s Instagram.

Back together, you thought.

Over the course of Cat and Ellie’s relationship, you’d learned how to tell when they were ‘on a break’ and when they were together just from her Instagram.

When they were together, her profile picture was the two of them, Cat pressing her lips against Ellie’s cheek and Ellie with her eyes scrunched closed, a joyful look on her face. Ellie also had a highlight labled with nothing but a cat emoji as well as a few random posts of them doing more random shit.

When they were ‘on a break’; Ellie’s profile picture was the default one and she had no highlights, and a singular picture posted; her and Joel after her highschool graduation. After Ellie saw the picture of Cat at that party it’d been like that for two and a half weeks and you silently hoped it’d stay that way forever.

Now, her profile picture was the two of them looking happier than ever and you couldn’t help but feel mocked while you moped miserably in your cold dorm alone, your only comfort being the stuffed animal that you held close to your chest.

You missed her, desperately.

You couldn’t do this anymore, you had to have her in your life even if it wasn’t the way you wanted. You sat up, brushing the stray tears from your face you didn’t know had fallen. Determination coursed through you, you were going to break the silence first.

Ellie was getting back tomorrow so you arranged a plan, you’d pick up a pepperoni pizza from her favourite diner—pizza was her favourite food and you’d called her basic when she first told you, which she replied “Anybody who says they don’t like pizza or pizza is basic are trying too hard to be different, pizza is the only perfect thing in the world.” and you shoved her arm playfully telling her to just eat the freaking pizza— the memory made your heart hurt but you swallowed the feeling.

Then, you’d pick up both yours and her favourite snacks from the 7/11 near your campus along with a few sodas.

And finally, the main item of your grand scheme, stopping by the blu-ray store to pick up the first Jurassic Park, the two of you could always watch it on Netflix but she preferred having the physical thing, stating it felt more ‘authentic.’

It was going to be the perfect night, and by the end of it, it would be like the entire last month and couple weeks never happened. The two of you would be back to normal.

— ★

You’d spent the entire next day anxious about seeing Ellie again. You’d woken up early on accident and had to find things around your dorm and campus to busy yourself until it was time to get ready and grab all the items on your list.

And now here you were at— you checked your phone, 6:43 PM— pyjama clad and balancing a pizza box and your phone in one hand and two bag fulls of snacks and Jurassic Park in the other.

You placed one bag down to knock on the door and you heard shuffling before it swung open. To your distaste, the person who opened the door was not your best friend/crush/reason for breathing, but instead her girlfriend who you knew didn’t like you. Could you blame her though? You were in love with her girlfriend. Although she didn’t know that, at least…you don’t think she did.

You can’t believe you hadn’t thought about what you’d do if she was here, the pair seemed to always always always be together when they weren’t ‘on a break.’ Your eyes trailed down her form, she had on tiny plaid pyjama shorts and a thick green hood on that you recognized as Ellie’s. Jealousy plunged through you like boiling, corroding acid.

“Babe, who is it?” You heard Ellie call down from somewhere in the dorm and your stomach flipped, it’d been so long since you’ve heard her voice.

“Your friend.” She deadpanned.

“Who?” Ellie questioned, walking into view of the door frame. Her short auburn hair was out of it’s usual style and laid damp against her neck along with a towel, she was wearing thick navy sweatpants and a thin white tank top. Your eyes immediately landed on the black ink that trailed across her right forearm. She looked fucking amazing.

“★?” Her jade eyes widened, “What are you doing here?”

You held up the pizza box and movie half heartedly, “Surprise?”

She smiled and you swear to fucking god you almost dropped everything you were holding to whip out your phone and snap a picture. You’d missed her smile so much and seeing it online just wasn’t enough.

“Come in, you and Cat can catch up while I finish drying off.”

You looked at Cat, honestly forgetting she was there. Her dark eyes bored into you and you couldn’t help but notice how pretty she was with her short black hair and milky skin. Why were the pretty ones always fucking crazy?

She stepped to the side so you could walk in and put everything down on the old coffee table.

Awkward silence enveloped the space between you two before you cleared your throat, she was Ellie’s girlfriend whether you liked it or not which meant you’d being seeing a lot more of her so you had to atleast be civil.

“I like your hoodie.” You tried, giving her a weak smile.

“Thanks. It’s Ellie’s.” Maybe you imagined it, but you swore you heard a bit of a mocking emphasis on Ellie.

You sighed, taking a seat on the worn green sofa Ellie had found on Facebook market place for what she thought was ‘the deal of the century.’

“Hope you like pepperoni pizza.” You tried again.

“I’m vegetarian.”

Of course she was.

“Oh..you could pick them off?”

She scoffed, trudging off in the direction of Ellie, leaving you to sit alone. This was not going as planned, you’d wanted to spend one on one time with Ellie and discuss what the fuck had happened in the last month but it’d just be awkward when the elephant was literally in the room.

The two returned, Ellie’s hair dryer now and towel discarded. Ellie plopped down beside you and you didn’t miss the way Cat’s eye twitched.

Ellie’s eyes landed on the box of pizza, her face lighting up. “No way, I thought they were closed during the holiday’s.”

You smiled, “Guess I was lucky.”

She smiled back and your gaze met hers, your heart picked up in speed when you saw something in her warm jade eyes…something soft and—

Before you could inspect it further Cat slid past your legs to sit on the left of Ellie, separating the two of you again and almost pushing you off the couch.

Cat leaned into Ellie and you thought you saw her stiffen in the corner of your eye but when you turned to look at her she was back to normal, maybe you imagined it.

“You brought a movie?” Ellie asked, eyeing the small black rectangle on the table.

“Oh, yeah! Jurassic Park.” You leaned forward, picking it up.

“On blu-ray?” Cat snarked, “Isn’t that a little outdated.”

You looked at Ellie but she was focused on the the pizza, already downing a slice and a half.

“I think it’s fun, feels more..authentic.” You replied, noticing the small smirk that crept on to Ellie’s face.

You got up, fiddling with the small TV and DVD player like you did many times before when you and Ellie had a movie night. Finally, the movie started playing and you grabbed a bag of snacks as you eased into the beanbag instead of sitting back down on the couch.

Guess yours and Ellie’s talk could wait.

The movie droned on and Cat inevitability fell asleep on Ellie, you pulled out your phone as the scene where Donald Genarro gets eaten by a T-Rex while on the toilet started up.

You were answering snaps, liquorice hanging from your mouth when you got a text from Ellie, you looked up and saw her staring at you.

Bored?

You smiled,

We’ve seen this movie like a million times. I’m tired of watching an attorney get chomped up on the toilet. 😔

she stifled a laugh,

are u serious? 😫 that’s like the best scene.

personally, I like the end where they make it off the island.

Ofc u do 😒 always a sucker for happy endings.

You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully.

Hey can I ask u smth

ofc what’s up?

whyd you come here tonight? don’t get me wrong I’m glad u did its just. It’s been a while since I’ve heard from u and then u just like shoe up lol

shoe up? 🤨🤨

She frowned jokingly.

I’m srs.

Your fingers hovered over the letters as you thought of how to answer, you couldn’t just tell her that you’d been thinking of her aimlessly in the last month and you’d decided to push away the immense romantic feelings you had in order to at least stay friends with her now could you?

i just missed you and I thought like, why did we even stop talking in the first place, yk?

As you typed the next message you felt heat creep up your neck and your heart pick up just a tad. It wasn’t risky per say..just a little intimate.

tbh, ive been missing you the entire past couple weeks. like so fucking much 🫥

You added the emoji to soften the blow, make it seem less like you were in love with her and her absence caused a gaping hole in your life.

tbh, me too. im sorry abt that night btw. i was angry and felt betrayed and I lashed out on u even tho u were just looking out for me, and im sorry for not reaching out.

I understand and I’m sorry too. for yelling and not reaching out sooner 💗😞

I don’t forgive you.

Panic flooded your brain, was she still upset? Did she not want to be friends with you anymore? Did you wait too long to reach out? Ellie looked at your frightened face and tapped quickly, reassuring you.

Joking joking! I was gonna say i might if u come over like this more often but.. yeah 🥸

You sighed, relief washed over your body and you giggled.

u always have the worst timing.

You glanced up at her expecting to see a smile but your heart tugged at her expression, she looked..sad. The usual gleam in her jade eyes was gone and her soft lips were pulled into a solemn frown.

i know

Before you could pick apart the message a shiver jolted through your spine and goosebumps covered your neck and arms. When did it get so cold?

hey is ir kind of cold in here?

yeah the heaters busted. turns on and off 😒 i asked matinance to come take a look but yk how those mfs are.

damn..r ur blankets still in the same place?

nah i moved them a while ago they’re by the actually lemme just show u

Ellie peeled Cat off her shoulder carefully as to not wake her up and motioned for you to follow her. You got up from your seat on the beanbag and treaded quietly behind her.

She led you into her room and as she dug in the back of her closet you took in the space. It’d been too long since you’ve last been in there, you breathed in the familiar earthy-pine scent that was so inadvertently Ellie and eyed the bed you and her have had countless conversations on. Your eyes travelled to the guitar that stood against her bed frame, the wood worn from years of both her and Joel playing, she’d only played for you a couple of times and even then it was little snippets as she felt too embarrassed to play you a full song.

“Here.” Your eyes snapped back to her and the plush green blanket she held out. You were confused for a second but then you’d remembered why you came in here in the first place.

“Oh right, thanks.” You reached for the blanket but you must’ve anticipated for it to be lighter because it fell from your hand and landed with a soft thump on the floor.

She sighed playfully, reaching down to grab it, “Always a klutz, huh, bug?”

Your breath hitched at the nickname. She’d started calling you her lovebug back in elementary school to tease you since you always demanded she leave bugs and other insects alone and always opted for the piece of paper and cup method to set them free instead of her brutal method of stomp until they’re dead. The only insects she really liked were fireflies, she didn’t really have a reason..she just did.

However, she stopped calling you it when she had started dating Cat and resorted back to her regular “dude” “bro” and “man”. You forced your heart not to read too much in to her use of it, it probably just slipped out, nothing more nothing less.

She picked up the blanket and put it in your hands, placing one on top of yours to make sure you were holding it properly. And that would’ve been fine and dandy if she let go and you would’ve shuffled back to your seat on the beanbag and it would’ve been normal, and it would’ve been okay.

Only, she didn’t move her hand. She let it rest in top of yours, the heat from her body travelling to yours, igniting you in a way you don’t think was possible. You looked up to meet those familiar pools of jade, finding the same look you had seen when the two of you were on the couch; soft and wanting.

It’s funny really, you had shown up here with so much ready to say and now look at you. Completely silent, terrified that if you even breathed too loud it would shatter whatever blissful moment was going on.

But your heart battered against your chest, screaming and thrashing at you.

it’s NOW or NEVER. SAY IT, SAY IT, SAY IT!

“I like you.”

Silence. There was no echo in the room but you swore your words bounced around the walls and hung in the air.

“What?” She breathed, taking a step back.

This was wrong, you knew it was. Her girlfriend was literally less than 10 feet away and the two of you had just started talking again, but you couldn’t do it anymore. You needed to tell her, if there was even a sliver of a chance she felt the same way you were going to take it.

“I like you— more than a best friend like, and I have for a while. And I know you’re dating Cat and I get that you like her, I really do. But I can’t do this anymore, Ellie. I can’t sit and pretend I’m happy for you because I’m fucking not. Whenever I see you two together, kissing and hugging I wish it was me—fuck I wish it was me.”

“Bug,” She paused, closing her eyes briefly, “ ★..I’m dating Cat.”

“You think I don’t!—“ You paused, urging yourself to breathe and counting to ten slowly.

nine..ten.

“You think I don’t know that?” You repeated, calmer.

“★..” Ellie began but you pushed on.

“Ellie can’t you see how..how bad she is for you?”

“What?” She asked, anger lacing her voice.

“She’s hurt you time and time again, and I’m always the one who has to comfort you just for you to go back to her after a few sweet words…she doesn’t deserve you.”

“You’re not apart of my relationship you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” She spat.

You huffed, blowing out air as you tried to breathe again.

eight..nine..

“Just because you’re fucking in love with me doesn’t mean you get to come in here and act like you know a single fucking thing because you don’t.”

Fuck breathing, fuck ten.

“You stupid bitch! She doesn’t fucking care about you. Why can’t you see the one for you is me.” You yelled, then gasped at your outburst. It had taken both of you by surprise, even when you and Ellie got into the nastiest of arguments you never yelled at eachother—minus that one night a month ago. It felt good, letting out all the emotion you had harboured for so, so long.

The two of you were centimetres away, having inched closer to yell in eachothers faces but now it was quiet, except for the laboured breathing that expelled from both of you, fanning over eachothers lips.

Icy jade met the fire burning behind your eyes, the juxtaposition was so intense you thought if your heart beat any faster you’d go into cardiac arrest.

“..You’re the one for me..?” She said, a ghost of a whisper.

And It was quick, so quick you almost didn’t catch it but you did. Her eyes flitted a fraction of an inch down to your lips and fuck, it was over for both of you.

Your lips crashed into hers, her large hands found promise at the nape of your neck, pushing you closer as she slotted her mouth against yours. The blanket in your hands long forgotten as it fell back to the floor. It was heated, hungry, passionate, and desperate. Months of hate, love, frustration, and separation rolled into one long awaited meaningful kiss.

It was when her hand trailed down to your hip, pulling you flush against her body and snaking under your top to brush over your skin that ellicited a sweet noise from you and her tongue sliding across yours, that she finally pulled away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“Fuck.” She breathed, her voice raspy and you bit your lip when you felt your clit pulse.

“I need to—“

“I think you—“ the two of you spoke at the same time making both of you pause.

“I need to go.” You whispered, so quiet she almost didn’t hear you.

She nodded and watched as you turned around and walked out of her room, she stayed like that, standing and barely breathing until she heard the familiar noise of her dorm door closing before she allowed herself to crumble to the floor and hang her head in her hands.

“Els?” Her head shot up, thinking you had returned but she felt guilt flood her body when her face fell in disspointment at the sight of her groggy girlfriend.

“Hey..we need to talk.” She sighed.

She really did have the worst timing.

#ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie smut #ellie fic #ellie fluff #ellie au #ellie angst

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