#dina woodward x you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vampirq · 4 days ago

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⋆ ࣪ ִֶָ . ❀ HOW TLOU + ARCANE WOMEN BRAT TAME YOU.

contain characters: abby anderson. ellie williams. dina woodward. sevika. vi. caitlynn kiramann. mel medarda

3.4k words total, not proofread.

tags: dom! abby. hair pulling. praise. strap-on sex. overstimulation. major teasing. strap referred to as ‘dick.’ mean! ellie. dom! sevika. fingering. edging. grinding. finger sucking. usage of ‘daddy.’ spanking. cunt slapping. oral. thigh riding.

note: yeah .. this is just filth. i’m sorry for any typos or over usage of words, writing this sucked the life out of me.

ABBY ANDERSON

you’ve been pestering abby all night in the kitchen. holding things away from her so she can’t grab them, mocking her when she asks you to do something, even talking back to her.

abby didn’t feed into too much though. she’d just tell you to ‘cut it out’ or shoot you a warning look and continue cooking. but you weren’t satisfied. you wanted to see her break, see her far you could push her til she had enough.

so you did just that.

“what? you gonna glare at me all night, or are you actually gonna do something about it?” you mutter, your voice bitter but that feeling deep down is far from it.

“you’re funny, real funny, babe.” abby stifles a laugh, her tongue poking at her cheek. disappointed with her response, you roll your eyes in frustration, keeping your eyes focused on the way her biceps flex each time she slices an onion.

you move behind her, your nose adjacent with her neck. your lips press against it then, your tongue licks a messy stripe down to her collarbone. the salt and alcohol from her perfume collecting in your mouth. “mm, you taste good. but you probably already knew that, huh?”

she lets out a low groan, dropping the knife; a loud clang echoing throughout the room. her hands grip onto the counter while her head hangs between the shoulders, shifting on her feet.

you open your mouth to say another snarky remark, but they fall on silent lips, choosing to watch her instead.

in a minute, her body turns to yours, her hands rested on your hips and backing you towards a wall. she has a look in her eye, and you can’t differentiate it from frustration or desire. maybe both. maybe neither. maybe she’s just done.

her body clashes with yours. her forearm resting on the wall, the other toying with your waistband. “you wanna tell me what’s got you acting like this?” her voice is deep, stern, and you know you’ve got her right where you want her. “was me fucking you senseless last night not enough?”

“guess not.” you snap back, earning a growl from abby.

she lets out another dry laugh and shakes her head. bringing her gaze back up to you, her lips inches apart from yours. “you’ve got five minutes to get on the bed. ass up. naked, and i better not see you touching yourself, understand?” her tone is harsh, it makes you gulp, an inch of fear washing over you.

—

“ngghh, fuck, abby! i can’t, can’t take it—“ your words are cut off with a loud moan. nails digging into the cotton sheets beneath you.

abby’s pace increases at your pleas. her hips driving into you with more force. people were not lying when they said her back shots sound like gunshots. “come on, baby. take this dick, fuck yeah.” her head tilts back, a low whine leaving her lips.

strings of her name tumble out of your mouth like a sacred song. feeling your mind grow foggy as her tip kisses your cervix. your chest lays flat against the bed, the support from your arms being taken away from abby. her hand grabbing both of your arms and holding them behind your back.

“oh? where’s that attitude now, princess?” the grip she has on you tightens, using it as leverage to pound into you deeper. “‘cause all i hear are a buncha pretty moans.”

you feel your legs shake, eyes rolling to the back of your head. any attempt at words would just come out inaudible, resulting in a plethora of lewd noises. you couldn’t tell abby you were close, but she knew, she alwaysknew.

“can feel you squeezing my cock. make a mess all over me, pretty girl.” her permission is the only thing you needed to gush all over the sheets. your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave, sudden and intense.

she fucks you through it, talking to you and praising you. the grip she had on your arms were gone, but now it was on your hips. her tempo changed from fast, sharp to slow and deep. it allowed you to feel every inch of her easing in and out of you.

the overstimulation came quickly, causing you to thrash and whine. “a-abby, it’s too much. fuck! m’ sorry, won’t be mean again.” you beg, but it’s no use. her hold on you only tightens and she shows no signs of letting up.

“bullshit, baby. c’mon give me one more, yeah?”

ELLIE WILLIAMS

you’ve had the biggest attitude all day, and it simply couldn’t be helped. you distanced yourself from ellie, had an underlying tone of annoyance in your words, and gave short responses when talking. this wasn’t unlike you for this to happen, but ellie was still bothered by it.

so whenever the two of you returned home from your outing, she sat down on the couch and called you over. reluctantly, you gave in and straddled her lap just like she wanted.

“alright, c’mon baby. tell me what’s going on.” ellie says, tilting her head to the side and keeping her eyes locked on yours. her hand trailing up your outer thigh, and tracing small shapes.

“nothing.” your voice comes out blunt and uninterested, shifting your gaze from hers to the wall.

ellie takes your chin in her pointer finger and thumb. she doesn’t look convinced, her brows furrowed, lips forming into a thin line. you yank your head out of her grip with an exasperated groan. attempting to come off as unbothered, but she sees it in a much different way.

her eyes darken at your insolence, finding herself grow more impatient with you. her fingers pinch a chunk of your thigh, resulting in a whine and a string of complaints from you.

“ow, ellie! what the fuck is wro—“

“lose the attitude, and talk to me properly. what’s going on with you today?” the grip she has on your thigh tightens, grounding you from any distractions. her stern voice brings out that feeling in your lower stomach, and it takes everything in you to not drop the act completely.

“nothing. i’m just, i don’t know. frustrated?” your eyes fall onto her lips then her biceps. ellie notices immediately, her hardened expression turning into an intrigued one.

“oh. oh, i see, baby.” she smirks, moving her hand to your jaw and pulling you closer. “you just need me to set that pretty head straight, yeah?”

your lips part to protest, but you can’t find the words, leaving you silent and dumbfounded. you shift in her lap to relieve the tingly sensation coming from your cunt, but it just earns a chuckle from ellie.

“that’s what i thought,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side your neck. her hands pull you closer to her, one arm wrapped around your waist the other settled on your jaw. “you act up when you need me. huh, is that it?”

your cheeks burn at how easily she can see through you. that little persona was nothing but a glass window to her, but you don’t respond. instead, rolling your hips against her lap in search of friction, but ellie’s hands are on you in an instant, keeping you still.

“nah, baby.” her head shakes from side to side, voice becoming low and gravelly. “you don’t get to be a brat all day then take what you want.”

a frustrated whines leaves your lips, and ellie grins, clearly enjoying this way too much. her hand pulls your shorts and underwear over, exposing your glistening cunt to her. she nearly drools at the sight, dragging a finger through your sopping slit.

you grind into her hand again, and this time she lets you, thrusting her middle finger in your pussy and feeling your velvety walls clench on her. her wrist moves up and down, keeping her eyes focused on your face. she can tell you’re pleased, but it’s not enough and before you could do anything else, she pulls her hand away.

“ellie, i— why would you do that?” you pout, giving her those sweet doe eyes.

she pouts back but with faux sympathy. a hint of arrogance in her tone. “you wanted to act like you run shit, baby. can’t give you everything you want.”

but eventually she does, and it was worth every second of waiting.

DINA WOODWARD

you’re pushing dina’s buttons tonight— rolling your eyes, scoffing at every little thing she says. you don’t even remember what you said exactly, but whatever it was, it made something inside of her flip.

her expression shifts. the teasing, easy-going glint in her eyes turn sharper. she turns around to face you, each step she takes forward, it’s one you take back until you hit the wall.

she’s in front of you now— her brown baby hairs tickling the sides of your face. you could feel the heat radiating off of her body, and it only draws you in more.

you don’t realize she’s talking until her eyes meet yours. “.. think you’re all talk? are you even listening to me right now, babe?” she questions, her voice is condescending but gentle.

you try to hold your ground, looking past her instead of into her. anything to avoid the confrontation you set yourself up for. but her smirk only widens, planting a hand beside your head and taking your chin in her grasp.

“you wanted my attention so bad, but now that you’ve got it, you’re silent.” her eyes scan your face, a chuckle surpassing her lips. you feel small under her gaze as if she was belittling you without even trying.

you glare at her, but your breath stutters when her hand trails along your waist, and her thigh spilts your legs apart. the denim material of her jeans rub against your cunt, and it takes everything in you to not rut against her.

she watches you writhe under her, your muscles tensing to prevent yourself from submitting to her. “what?” her nose ghosts over your jaw, her lips are close to your skin, but not close enough to connect. “had such a mouth on you earlier. sweetheart, what happened?”

“you act all tough, run your mouth, but the second i get my hands on you?” her low smug chuckle adds to the tension. “s’ like you forgot how to speak.”

your stomach twists, heat curling and twisting inside of you. fuck, you hate that she’s right. how she could get you pleading with nothing but her voice. you shift on your feet to regain composure, but that was a big mistake. ‘cause now dina’s grinding her thigh into you, pushing your hips down so you have no choice but to take it.

“y’know, maybe i should fix that.” she muses, like she was actually considering it. “maybe i should stretch you open nice and slow, make you ride my fingers ‘til your begging me to let you cum.”

a small whimper tumbles out of your lips, growing into a moan as she applies more pressure.

“or maybe, i should take my time with you. keep you on the edge, fucking you but not in the way you want it, make you earn it..” she drags out her words like she’s picturing it. “yeah, think that’s what i’ll do.”

she presses a deep, loving kiss to the pressure point below you ear, but before you could savor the moment, she pulls away.

she straightens up, eyes twinkling with amusement at your fucked-out face. then proceed to chirp, “anyways, i’m gonna go get a drink. need anything?”

you don’t respond, you stand there. staring and trying to process everything that just happened, yet she just grins and throws you a wink over her shoulder before walking off.

SEVIKA

“keep counting, slut.” sevika’s voice echoes throughout the walls of your shared bedroom, blending with the sharp crack of her palm against your bare ass.

“f-five,” you manage, voice broken and shaky. your legs jerk up when another smack lands—harder this time, ripping a whine from your throat.

the globes of your ass were painted a nice red. each slap stinging more than the last— a new found arousal pooled out of you and onto her hand. she uses your slick as lube, coating it in her finger and thrusting into your sopping hole.

“ohh, fuck! you feel so good, vika,” she silences your moans with her fingers, stuffing her middle and ring into your mouth.

“i know, baby. daddy just makes you feel good even when you don’t deserve it, yeah?” her voice, her touch, it intoxicates you, your mind being filled with nothing but sevika. each touch of hers feels electric. the sensitivity on your cunt spiking due to her spanking.

she lets out a low chuckle at the way your tongue swirls around fingers, greedily sucking them into your mouth. she pushes them further into you, her knuckles colliding with your lips. then, pulling them out slowly, smearing it all over your chin before landing a soft slap to your cheek.

“so needy for me,” she murmurs, her fingers never faltering as they plunge into you again. her other hand finds your throat, wrapping around it, just firm enough to make your breath hitch. “this is what you wanted, huh? to be fucked stupid? to let me turn you into my perfect little fucktoy?”

you hum, nodding weakly, your lashes wet, eyes heavy—but they roll back completely when she curls her fingers just right.

she slams harder into you, deeper. her fingertips kissing your g spot with every thrust. your legs start to shake, and the grip you have on the sheets tightens. broken noises of sevika’s name tumbling out of your mouth.

but she stops, and it’s so abrupt you start tearing up.

“oh doll, don’t cry.” she coos with faux sympathy, sarcasm dripping in her words. “you’ll get your fill soon enough.”

her palm strikes your ass again, the impact sending a jolt straight to your cunt. she watches it jiggle, drags her fingers over the heated skin, eyes dark with amusement.

“but i didn’t say stop counting, did i?”

“oh, come on, vi. that’s all you got?” you tease, your wrists are pinned firmly above your head. you’ll admit, it’s actually pretty hard to move considering the amount of force she’s using, but she doesn’t need to know that. “seems pretty weak to me, love.”

vi’s face darken at your words, her pupils draining the color from her eyes. her brows twitch, jaw tightens, and she exhales a slow breath, like she’s trying real hard to be patient.

“you done?” her voice is steady and firm, her eyes glued onto your face, watching for any signs of regret. but there is none, and she knows that when she sees the corner of your lips quirk up in a smile.

“nop—“ before you could get the word out, you were flipped onto your stomach. your face smushed against the pillows, vi’s arm wrapped around your waist, restraining any sudden movements. then, her palm strikes down hard on your ass, the sharp slap echoing throughout the room.

“yeah?” another slap. harder, hotter. “still wanna talk shit?”

your breath shudders, body tensing under her. stubbornly, you bite down on your bottom lip to hold back a whimper. bad call. ‘cause now, she’s doing anything she can to draw out those noises from you.

you feel the grip on your hips shift to the back of your thighs. her lips ghost over your clothed cunt, grazing over the soaked material. “shit, baby. you’re so fucking wet. is all this from being thrown around?” she questions, but you don’t respond. so she tries gain with a different approach— pulling your panties to the side and licking a firm stripe up your folds.

that’s what gets you to break, a small whine leaving your lips. you press your hips back on her, chasing more pleasure than what she’s giving you. she lets you use her for a bit, lets you move your hips in a circle on her tongue, even prodding your hole with it. but it’s not long ‘til she backs away.

“you want my mouth, don’t you?” she asks, tone mocking and condescending. still, you don’t respond. she lands a sharp slap to your cunt, the juices stringing off of her fingers. “what was that? didn’t hear you, babe.”

your pride cracks, the urge to be fucked taking over your stubbornness. “yes, yes— please just touch me.” your cheeks heat up at your own words, the feeling of embarrassment washing over you.

she smirks at that. using her thumbs to spread apart your hole, watching it clench from her touch. she sucks in a breath, her tongue coating her lips in saliva. her lips dance over your folds again, but this time she submerged her mouth in your pussy. the word “good girl.” humming against your aching core.

CAITLYNN KIRAMANN

caitlyn’s been nose deep in her books all day, barely sparing a glance at you. it’s frustrating, all you wanted was some attention from her and she wasn’t even giving you that. so, you took matters into your own hands.

you strode over to the lounge chair she was sitting in, your footfalls light to not disturb her reading. your body stood huffing in front of her, and she didn’t even look up. you lifted her hands up from her book and sat down in her lap.

“need something?” she asks, her posh accent breaking through.

yeah, your fucking attention. you thought, but remained quiet, only giving her a small hum in response. she wrapped her arm around your torso and rested her head over shoulder, continuing to read that stupid book.

you shift in her lap, finding the spot that catches your clit perfectly, and when you do, strings of small whines pour out of your lips. caitlyn notices but doesn’t say anything, instead she bounces her leg to increase the pleasure.

“c-cait,” you whine, biting down on her shoulder to silence your moans. the pace of your hips grinding against her picks up. “cait, please. i, i need you.”

she gives you a hum of acknowledgement, but still paying you no mind. you start to get irritated, she had a whole girl in her lap, yet she was focused on some words on a paper. your whimpers grow more louder, more needy in hopes of her giving you what you want. but when your kisses and bites start becoming intense, she breaks.

the book slams shut, the sound of it hitting the floor is like music to your ears. her head lifts up off her shoulder to meet your eyes. her composed face being a huge contrast to your desperate, pleading one.

“darling, you couldn’t even wait until i was finished?” she muses, tilting her head and sharpening her eyes. “had to come grind in my lap like a poor dog in heat?”

you know she’s talking down at you, but you can’t help the small moan that escapes your lips. “m’ sorry. just wanted you’re attention, s’ all.” your words are slurred as your orgasm builds up, using the small amount of strength to keep your eyes open.

“i know, baby, i know.” her hand comes up to cup your jaw and draws your face closer to hers. “i’ll help you, sweetheart. make you feel real good.”

MEL MEDARDA

“you know, maybe if you weren’t sitting around looking pretty all day, you’d actually know how to fuck me properly.” the words tumble out faster than you expected, earning a raised eyebrow from mel.

she sits her wine glass on the table, and gets up to make her way over to you. each step she takes is calculated, deliberate, and it makes you start to regret your words. her frame stands in front of you, her hazel eyes piercing down into yours.

“repeat yourself, dear. go ahead.” she tilts her head when she talks to you.

your throat bobs, and your mouth goes dry. but you square shoulders, refusing to let her see the effect she has on you. “you heard me.”

mel huns, a soft knowing sound, as if she’s already bored of this game you’re playing. then she leans down, hands settling on each side of you, caging you in the couch.

“i did,” her voice is still silk, still calm, but there’s something different about her tone. it has a underlying tone of danger, warning. her fingers trace along your jaw. her touch is featherlight and delicate like you’ll break from the slightest amount of pressure.

“so tell me, love—“ she takes your jaw in hand, forcing your eyes to meet hers. “—how exactly would you like to be fucked?”

your breath catches, body tensing under her touch, but she doesn’t give you time to answer before her hand slides between your thighs. her touch is light, barely there—nothing more than a ghost of pressure on your clothed core.

“like this?” she asks, mocking, her fingers glide up and down at torturous pace. “soft? slow?”

you look up at her with half lidded eyes, her words hanging heavy in your head. her grip tightens—the warmth of her hand suddenly gone, only to be replaced with a sharp slap to your inner thigh. you flinch, and mel just smiles, tilting her head as if she’s studying you.

“or maybe—” she leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear, her voice nothing but a whisper, ”—you’d prefer i throw you over this couch and remind you exactly what i’m capable of?”

your stomach flips, heat pooling low in your gut, but you force yourself to hold your ground, lips curling into a smirk.

“talk is cheap, mel.”

her expression doesn’t change—not at first. but then, slowly, a smirk of her own tugs at her lips.

“oh, darling—” she breathes, her fingers suddenly wrapping around your throat, firm, tilting your head back against the cushions.

her thumb presses just right, not tight enough to hurt, but enough to make your breath hitch, enough to make your head spin.

”—you should know by now that i never just talk.”

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valeisaslut · 30 days ago

Note

YOU KNOW WHAT YOU SHOULD DO, Ellie with a tongue piercing eating you out

⭒࿐Ellie with a tongue piercing - drabble

word count: 1.2k 𖥔 ݁ ˖

content warnings: oral sex (r!receiving) fingering (r!receiving) top!ellie, sub!reader, cursing, pet names, making out, afab! reader, MEN AND MINORS DNI, likes and reblogs are appreciated 𖥔 ݁ ˖

────────────

It was impulsive—Ellie thinks, or at least, that’s what she tells herself.

You were lying next to her on her bed, phone in hand, scrolling through Pinterest when you stopped to show her a picture. A girl with a tongue piercing, silver catching the light as she stuck it out playfully.

"Tongue piercings are sooo fucking hot" you had murmured, almost absentmindedly, but Ellie caught the way your voice dipped just slightly. The way your lips parted, tongue running over them like the thought alone did something to you.

She pretended it wasn’t getting to her, brushing it off with a lazy, "Yeah, kinda." But she felt it. Deep in her chest.

Later that night, lying awake in bed, she kept thinking about it. About you saying it. About what it would feel like, taste like, how you might react when—

A week later, she did it.

And now, she’s standing outside your door, tongue still sore, heart hammering like she’s seventeen again.

She’s quiet when she steps inside, more than usual. Her hands stay shoved in the pocket of her hoodie, and she keeps looking at you, then away, then back again, like she’s waiting for you to notice.

You don’t—not at first. She’s always had that restless energy, that way of looking at you like she’s hiding something, even when she’s not. So you let her in, let her kick off her shoes, let her lounge on your bed like she always does, flipping through her phone while you scroll through yours, music playing low between you.

And then—

Click.

Your eyes flick up.

Click.

It’s soft, nearly lost under the hum of the music, but distinct—the metallic tap of something against her teeth. Your brows furrow.

Ellie shifts like she can feel your stare, but she doesn’t look at you. Just keeps rolling something over her tongue. Click. Click. Click.

Your brain short-circuits.

No way.

“Ellie.”

She freezes.

Your suspicion sharpens, and you push yourself up slightly. “Open your mouth.”

She scoffs, trying for casual, but there’s something behind it—something almost shy. “The fuck? Why?”

Your eyes narrow.

Then, she does it again—deliberate this time. Click. Rolls something against her teeth before flicking her tongue out just enough for you to catch the glint of silver.

Your jaw drops.

“No. Fucking. Way.”

Ellie smirks, but it’s lopsided, almost nervous. Her tongue flickes out again, just barely. “Yeah.”

You grab her face.

“Ellie.” Your voice is softer now, breathless. “When did you—?”

Her fingers twitch against the fabric of her hoodie. “Two days ago.” she mutters, eyes darting away like she’s suddenly self-conscious. Ellie. Self-conscious.

Ellie tenses slightly but lets you tilt her chin up, lets you press your thumb to the corner of her lips and coax them open just enough to get a proper look. The barbell sits snug against her tongue, catching the dim light of your room as she flicks it experimentally.

Something warm curls deep in your stomach.

Your fingers linger against her jaw, and suddenly, Ellie looks less sure of herself, pupils dark and wide. Her breath is uneven, lips slightly parted like she’s waiting for something—

And then she crashes into you.

It’s sudden, messy—more heat than finesse, all lips and urgency. She kisses you like she’s been holding back, like she can’t take another second of it. Her hands find your waist, grip tight, pulling you closer as her tongue slips past your lips.

And there—there it is.

The piercing presses against your own tongue, smooth metal against warmth, an unfamiliar sensation that makes your whole body react. It’s cold at first, a stark contrast to the heat of her mouth, but then it shifts, melding with the warmth, gliding over your tongue with every movement.

Ellie makes a quiet, wrecked noise as you chase it, testing it, letting your tongue flick over the metal deliberately. You feel her shudder beneath your hands, her grip tightening on your hips like she’s barely holding on.

You pull back slightly, just enough to catch your breath, lips swollen, heartbeat pounding in your ears. Ellie’s forehead presses against yours, her own breathing just as uneven.

“You like it?” she asks, voice husky, tinged with amusement.

“Yeah.” you murmur one breathless, unsteady word—barely more than a gasp. And it’s more than enough for Ellie to know that you love it

But the truth is you don’t just love it. You are officially obsessed with it.

Not even a second after that, you fist the fabric of her hoodie and pull her back in. Ellie almost whimpers into your mouth.

She shifts, pressing you back against the bed, her hands sliding under your shirt, rough fingertips caressing your ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts like she’s memorizing the shape of you. You arch into her, thighs squeezing around her hips, letting her slot herself fully between your legs.

She smirks against your lips.

"You ever been eaten out by someone with a tongue ring?"

Holy. shit.

The words send a rush of heat straight through you, pooling low in your stomach.

You swallow. Hard. “No.”

Ellie grins, pressing a kiss to your jaw, then lower, her fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. “Guess I get to be the first then.”

Your breath stutters when she tugs your underwear down, kissing along your thighs, taking her time. The air feels thick, electric, anticipation knotting tightly in your chest.

Not even two seconds later, her mouth is on you.

The first stroke of her tongue has you gasping, fingers immediately tangling in her hair. The heat of it is overwhelming, and then—that damn piercing.

It drags against your clit as she flicks her tongue, the cool, smooth metal contrasting so sharply against the warmth of her mouth that your whole body jerks. It’s different. Sharper. The sensation rolling through you is something entirely new, your nerves hyperaware of every single movement.

Ellie hums, clearly pleased with your reaction, and the vibration sends another sharp jolt of pleasure straight through you.

“Ellie, oh god!—”

“I know, baby,” she murmurs, her voice low, affectionate. “Just relax.”

She wraps an arm around your thigh, holding you open, before slipping two of her fingers inside. The stretch is easy, slick, and she curls them just right, coaxing another desperate sound from you.

The way her tongue moves is different than anything you’ve felt before. The metal presses and rolls, gliding over every sensitive nerve, alternating between warmth and coolness in a way that makes your legs tremble. Each flick precise, each drag of the barbell sending a new wave of pleasure through you.

Ellie doesn’t rush. She builds it up slowly, letting you feel everything—the way the piercing rubs against your clit in teasing circles before she presses harder, the way she sucks it into her mouth, the way she groans when your fingers tighten in her hair, pulling her closer.

Broken whimpers can’t stop falling from your lips. You’re spiraling. Fast

“Come on, babe,” she coaxes, her voice dripping with something almost desperate. "Cum for me"

And you do.

Your orgasm crashes over you, white-hot pleasure that feels sharp and electric, pulling a choked scream from your throat as your body locks up. Your thighs clamp around her, your back arches as the sensation pulses through you in waves.

Ellie doesn’t pull away. She works you through it, licking up every last bit of your release like she can’t get enough of it. When your body finally sags against the bed, spent and shaking, she presses one last, lingering kiss to your thigh before looking up at you.

Her lips are glistening, chin slick, pupils dark and hungry.

Then she smirks, lazy and satisfied.

“Gonna need you to cum on my tongue again, babe.”

And by the way her fingers are still inside you, already moving again, you know—

This piercing was the best fucking decision she’s ever made.

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࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ omfg this is my first drabble and request! tysm beatiful anon for giving me this amazing idea, i rlly enjoyed writing this. It also helped me getting out of my confort zone bc im used to writing deep and long stuff. Reqs are ALWAYS open, so if anyone wants me to write sm, i will be happy to receive more! Can’t wait to see what else yall throw my way. <333

Please leave a comment if you’re interested in being on my perm taglist!

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r3starttt · 4 months ago

Text

PHOTO BOOTH

PAIRING: Abby | Ellie | Dina x reader

CW: headcanons. small. been on my drafts since August...

TAGLIST: @twopeoplee @Kaimythically @greysontheidiot @levilvrr @sapphic-ovaries @girlkisser168 @bilsvlt @tlouloser @marsworlddd @1-800-fantasy @ellieswifee232 @prwttiestbunny @thesevi0lentdelights @lvlymicha @stickycherritart @rob1nbuckl3ys @abbys-muscles @dinakisser @lott6i @imagoddess @GodessAgrona

ABBY

𝜗𝜚 She would be the one to drag you, wanting one of those cute pics she'd seen all over tik tok and Instagram.

𝜗𝜚 Plus, she's already a Polaroid person. Abby loves the idea of having the physical memory, a tangible thing to remember special dates with literally anyone she cares about.

𝜗𝜚 She's got some Polaroids of you on her wallet, the mirror of her car, the mirror of her bathroom, on her phone case. Abby just adores having something to look at whenever she's having a hard time, whenever she misses you.

𝜗𝜚 Abby would be either shy at first or super straightforward, either way she's got you on her lap, with her hands around your waist and over your lap, rubbing your thighs up and down as she tries to understand how does it work.

"Babe, I think you gotta-" you can't even finish your sentence when she's already clicking stuff all over the screen. Both getting interrupted by a robotic woman's voice who's just starting to read the instructions. "Got it" she murmurs, and you lean back, giving her enough space to lean closer to the screen and touch whatever buttons the voice indicates.

𝜗𝜚 She doesn't really move a lot or suggests anything. Her hands stay still all over you the whole time, just staring back with those puppy eyes she reserves for you, mocking every pose and face you do, following any instructions you give to her.

"In five... four..." the woman counts loudly. Your nails touch her skin first, cupping her cheeks and leading her face to look back at you, which she obbeys with ease.

She knows what's on your mind, it's not the first time that happens. Her eyes close, giving you the prettiest view before you stamp your glossy lips against her skin. "two... one... smile!"

𝜗𝜚 Even with her face filled with gloss and lipstick, she comes out of the cabin proudly, whispering you to stay there before she closes the courtain. You obbey, confused, and simply sit there, looking at your barely visible reflection on the screen to clean the small bits of gloss you've smudged around your lips when kissing her.

"You ready?" you flinch a bit at the sudden interruption. A frown on your face as you process her words. "Want some with your face in it, come on" Abby tiltes her chin up, signaling to the screen. Yet before you can reply, the woman's voice appears once again, explaining the same steps you just heard minutes ago and giving you instructions to use the cabin properly. You just look at her with a sheepish stupid smile, which is already illuminating her pretty face. Both in a small awe before she closes the courtin again.

𝜗𝜚 While she waits for you, her heart is practically melting, staring at the pictures with so much love it's ridiculous.

ELLIE

𝜗𝜚 You're the one dragging her, mostly because you saw that look on her face. That one she puts whenever there's something on her mind she's too shy to say out loud.

𝜗𝜚 You enter first, patting quickly for her to step in and sit next to you. Your hair cascades a little on the sides of your face as you lean closer to the screen, following each step while indicating her to think of any pose while you manage to make the machine work.

𝜗𝜚 Ellie just sits there, quietly nodding and smiling at your words. If there's anything she loves, it is how well you know her, how much you love her, and understand her without the need of a word.

"Okay, ready? says we have ten seconds between each pic and we have eight chances, good?" You lean back, turning to her side a little to make sure you're both fitting properly. Ellie jus nods, murmuring a small "yup"

𝜗𝜚 She'd be making the most ugly funny faces at first, begging you to do it with her, which you simply accept.

𝜗𝜚 Every pose she makes, you have to mock. Rules are rules she says.

𝜗𝜚 She adores the machine, asking to do it again once the woman's voice announces the last picture about to be taken.

"Okay, come here" she murmurs, her hands patting on her lap while she enters the cabin first this time. And you do, half sitting while you adjust the courtain, suddenly being pushed by her "I could've hit my head El-" her lips are already on you "you didn't"

𝜗𝜚 She proceeds to click every button, try filters and other options the machine has, simply clicking on your favorite color for the frame.

𝜗𝜚 There's already a plan on her head, which you listen and nod. You choose four poses, she chooses the other four.

"Babe, please" her words come along a groan as it's the third time she's begging you to kiss her for the photo and you simply laugh at her face. The woman counting the seconds left. "You should beg for my kisses more frequently"

"Just shut up, and kiss me, please"

DINA

𝜗𝜚 She's the one to drag you, not like there was much effort on your side to decline the sweet offer of taking pictures with your girl in them.

𝜗𝜚 She's inside first, pulling you with a teasing "Come here" while you just laugh at her. Yet, once inside you're the one clicking all buttons until the instructions are told.

𝜗𝜚 Dina just sits quietly, thinking of all the many cute couples she's seen doing this, cursing herself for not remembering the poses so you can have the prettiest pictures of both- then, cursing at herself for even caring about it, as long as you are the one in those pictures there's nothing else that matters, right?

"So, what do we do?" Your face is finally uncovered by your hair as you lay back and glance at her, starting to pick some decorations to put on the frame. Dina leans back, wrapping one of her arms around your waist while her chin remains on your shoulder. "Since I don't think you're asking me how to decorate it-" her tone sarcastic while she gives you that look. Her lips press gently on your cheeks before both turn your attention back to the screen. "Maybe you can just kiss me in all of them..."

𝜗𝜚 You laugh it off, clicking on the start button so the pictures can be taken. Dina takes her time to pull you closer to her, tilting her body to the side a little so there's enough space to change positions in between.

"Ready?" but before you can even react she's got her hand cupping at your cheeks. Her soda tainted lips pressed against yours with an unusual steadiness. One of her hand quickly moves down your chest, cupping at one of your breasts gently. "Dina-" your tone muffled between the kiss and the quiet laughs you share.

𝜗𝜚 Once you hear the loud "Two, one, smile!" from the robotic voice, you quickly change the position. Panicking until Dina takes the lead for both.

Her hand cups your chin this time, turning your face towards the camera. One baby hair loosen next to her face, her eyes closed while she leans in for a quick kiss on your cheek. "I love you."

𝜗𝜚 You can't even reply back because the time Is already over and either you change again or you remind her what she hears or sees each day from you. You love Dina, but she must know by now, just like you can tell with how she looks at you. Just like now.

𝜗𝜚 This time you take the lead, brushing the same hair you noticed when she kissed you, behind her ear at first. You've seen endless pictures of people and couples doing hearts either with their cheeks, hands- so many cute ideas you needed to try.

"Like this?" she frowns, quickly copying what you're going with your hand, on her cheek. You brush your hair back, making sure the hearts can be seen. "I love you more." The words enlighten her face so quickly it melts you entirely. "I see what you're doing." And before you can erase the fake offense and mocking laugh from both of your faces, the click is heard and the photo taken.

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chappellroansdreamgirl · 1 year ago

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ellie with a mean gf!

(prjoecting like a mf rn...)

a/n - i have been very unmotivated to write full-fleshed stuff so i'm deciding to write drabbles/headcannons for now. also THANK YOU FOR ALL THE ATTENTION ON CH.1 OF GOOD LUCK, BABE! it makes my heart smile that you guys love it so much... also😭😭...: @sweetcici11 srry that i lied and said ur fic would be out a few nights ago. i'm really trying to finish it but i don't want to rush it and it be shitty. i really want it to be enjoyable and as good as it can be. but i PROMISE you it WILL be posted... sooner or later! i also have a few more drafts to finish too, so, i hope you guys like them when they come out!!!!!

content warnings - fluff, i'm a bitch and i want to feel loved and think that someone can put up with my cuntiness😝😝 , over-usage of commas probably, i think they're low-key kind of toxic?!?!?!?! , guys i promise i'm not this bad i've just been pretty insufferable these last few days and need an outlet 😭😭 .

i wrote way more than i thought i was going to...

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- you both hated each other at first. ...well actually, you hated her, and she was like, "😞😞" and then got used to it after a while and started being mean back 2 u!!

- dina introduced ellie to you when you both were hanging out with her. "you guys are going to love each other🥰!" ... you didn't 🤗 !

- ellie said hi to you and all you did was look her up and down, stare at her for a few seconds and then turn your head.

- everytime ellie would (attempt to) strike up a conversation you would give an overtly enthusiastic response or just stare at her like she had two heads or just blatantly ignore her. dina is over there like, '😟😟 . can we not have one good day...' when dina would leave for short periods of time and ellie was sure that you didn't like her, she would just talk about anything to get your blood boiling, our girl lllloooovvveessss to push buttons, we know this to be true.

- it got worse yet more tolerable after that. whenever she'd see you at gatherings or parties, you'd do your damnest to stay away from/avoid her. and she'd do her damnest to get you as upset with her as possible. it always ended with not-so-playful not-so-friendly banter!

- you were talking with jesse about something on the couch, and ellie came over and DELIBERATELY, DELIBERATELY... interrupted you 🤗 ! :

you shoot daggers at her face with your eyes, your jaw set hard and your eyes narrowed.

ellie tried to feign innocence, raising a brow at you after she looked over to see your facial expressions long after she felt them.. "what are you looking at me like that for🤨🤨?" , "i was fucking talking, you're being rude." , "if i have to get used to you being a bitch, you got to do the same." , you just huffed at her response and crossed your arms before walking off a few minutes after, realizing that the conversation you were having with jesse earlier was indeed over. ellie smirked to herself, victory was her's!

- she started calling you the nickname brat out of the blue... it blindsided tf out of you. here's the origin story!:

you look at ellie with a disgusted look on your face as she exhales smoke. her glazed over eyes meet yours before she offers the joint to you, out of genuine kindness. "want a hit?" she asked, forgetting how much of a bitch you were for, like, 0.2 seconds. you glare at her for a moment longer before plastering a sarcastic smile on your face, snatching the joint from her fingertips and dropping it onto the floor. you kept her eyes on yours as you stomped and smushed it into the ground.

now she remembered.

she stood up instantaneously, she was pissed. "what the fuck?!" she shouted, earning a few looks from some friends across the room. they strained their necks for a little bit before they saw you, it made sense now, and then turned back to the conversation.

you close your eyes for a slight second as a satisfied smile graced the corners of your lips. "you know i don't smoke, ellie." you responded with in a condescendingly sweet voice.

she didn't even argue with you. "you're such a fuckin' brat." she muttered under her breath before walking away. you had to try your very best to ignore the heartbeat in your pussy. (🤗!)

- she didn't get to see how much effect that title had on you that night, but she noticed afterwards.

- one time you didn't say anything to ellie during a hangout, distracted by someone you disliked more than her. ellie kind of missed it☹️☹️ .

you were brought out of your thoughts when you felt her cold hand touch your shoulder. when you noticed it was her who was doing it, you pulled back with a furrow of her brows. ellie smiled. there she was.

"you haven't said one mean thing to me since i've gotten here. are you dying?"

you scoffed as you pointed in the direction your anger was radiating from. it was a girl ellie saw here and there in jackson, sometimes she was paired with her during patrols, she wasn't crazy about her but she paid no mind to her existence.

"what?- what does this have to do with me-"

"what it has to do with you, is that you should feel honored that i can tolerate you... can't fuckin' stand that bitch."

ellie scoffed before speaking up once more, "oh, c'mon you're being dramatic. don't be a brat."

your eyes went wide for a second and as you turned away, she could see the cheek that was facing her turn an embarrassing shade of red. she found your weakness.

- when you guys started dating, no one, and i mean NO ONE, believed it. (i don't feel like writing how u two got together maybe if y'all like this enough i'll make a full-fleshed oneshot abt it😭.)

- joel saw you guys together... like, not arguing, and HER head on YOUR shoulder... he thought he got laced with acid for a quick second there... jesse felt like he missed a couple chapters and felt very sad that he hadn't caught onto it quicker... and dina was so proud of herself, "told you, you guys would love each other 😁." she's so smug, I LOVE HER!

- she constantly has to reprimand you like you're a child when you guys are around someone you obviously don't like for whatever reason. once whoever left the room, ellie'll pinch your shoulder or your thigh, whatever skin is on display at the moment, not too hard, just to get you to wince a bit. you'll make a face at her afterwards. "ow, what the fuck was that for ellie?" , "we can talk shit when we get home, don't make a scene🙄." you stress her out sometimes...

- just bcs you guys are together DOES NOT mean your attitude has gone away.

whenever ellie and you have gotten in an argument, you're always being extra sarcastic and EXTRA BITCHY just to get on her nerves.

"baby, have you seen my gun?" she asks you, breaking the silence voluntarily as she's two minutes from being late to patrol.

you don't look up to her, you keep on looking at the pages of an old magazine. "idk ellie, did you check to see if it was shoved up your ass."

she just stands there for a second like this 🧍‍♀️ , before sighing and walking somewhere else to find it. "i'll fuckin' deal with you later." she mutters under her breath, obviously annoyed. you smirk to yourself as you flip another page.

- she does love, however, that you've gotten gentler with her since the relationship blossomed between you two. very few people (dina and ellie... sometimes jesse.) can get you to stop, and ellie is proud of herself that she could add beast-tamer to the top of her list of many skills and talents.

- sometimes she has to calm you down, sometimes all it takes is a stare in your direction. ... well, it's oftentimes a glare... you're your own woman/person and a relationship will not restrict you from showing off your talents!!!!!

- ellie has to constantly keep you from getting into arguments that could harm you physically. although your craft of bitchery is amazing, you can't fight to save your life.

she'll be pulling you back like an angry barking dog on a leash.

"i could've fucking took h-" , "you overestimate yourself a lot, baby."

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puriiinz · 6 days ago

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POSTED | smau abby a.

II; BE NATURAL

a/n: a lil sumting... more is coming... beware...

contains: cursing, sarcasm, mean flirting lesbians who don't realize they're flirting

masterlist | next

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sunk1ss3dd · 1 year ago

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#SOMETHING UNEXPECTED

pairing: Dina x Ellie x Reader

tags: smut, fingering, MY LOVES

Life seemed average, a repeated cycle you could never seem to get out of. Bland, overused and average.

“YN, you need to get out more! All you do is work and sleep!” Jesse complains. But how could you “get out more” if the whole world was under attack by human beings infected by fungus?

“Jesse, m’not going out tonight. I gotta patrol early tomorrow, I don’t have time f’drinking.” You scoff, closing the book you were reading and placing it in the nearby nightstand. “You’re so boring, you never do anything fun.” He rolls his eyes and exits the room.

You never enjoyed parties anyways. You always felt like an outcast to this whole group of people, you were surprised they even let you stay this damn long. You had showed up out of no where and yet they let you in after a check for infection.

The day continued like usual. Eat, Work, Sleep, Repeat, and obviously the necessities. You groan as you awake, your hair bed head a lot messier than usual. You rub your temples as you exit the hard bed that was seemingly put together from sheets and scattered pillows found around.

You somehow found yourself assigned to early patrol with Ellie and Dina. It wasn’t that you disliked them, it was that you liked them a little too much. Somehow, they distracted you from your daily routine, always pulling you somewhere you didn’t need to be, forcing you to explore things you’d never explored. But today it seemed there was a lot of tension in the area. The snow not making it any better as the freezing air made the freeze of the silence grow thicker.

Silence engulfed the whole ride, until they approached an abandoned warehouse that had a harsh smell of weed. Inside a whole farm of it, just growing like nothing. “Hey hey, I haven’t seen this shit in forever.” Ellie says picking up a jar. “Does weed expire?” She asks turning to Dina, having finally spoken a word to each other. “I guess we’ll have to find out?”

A loud bang was heard, causing you to flinch as you turned to see that the snow had trapped all three of you inside the weed smelling warehouse. “God, I did not want this.” You roll your eyes, removing the gloves you wore. “Fuck…!” You kick something nearby. “Whoa there, it’s not that big of a deal, we can just stay here until it dies down. Then we can try moving the snow.” Ellie suggests, removing her coat and settling in a nearby couch.

You watch as Dina does the same, grabbing a lighter that seemingly still worked to light the joint they’d found in the jar. “This still hits.” Dina says with a small smile, passing the joint over to Ellie. You sigh, removing your jacket and looking around to search for another exit. “Hey, why are you so quick to leave? Live a little and come smoke this with us.” Ellie says, looking at you with her low eyes as the weed seemed to already be taking effect.

“I’m good, I don’t smoke. I didn’t smoke before either.” You roll your eyes, looking around once more, seeing that there were no other ways out. “Just come and sit down. It’s like you have a stick up your ass or somethin’.” Dina says, tilting her head to look at you. You groan, stomping over to them both and settling on the couch. “Here, I think ya need it.” Ellie giggles, egging Dina to do the same.

“I said I’m good.” Dina takes the joint, “Just one time, it won’t kill ya?” She takes a drag from the joint, blowing it into your face, causing you to retract. “Fine.” You finally give in, inhaling the smoke. You cough quickly, the biting sensation in the back of your throat lingering. “Okay what the hell?” You ask, hunching over to cough. “It’s fine, happens when it’s your first time. Try again.” Ellie helps you sit up, guiding the joint to your lips.

“When you inhale, inhale it slowly. So, it doesn’t hurt as bad.” Dina says softly, placing her hand on your thigh unconsciously. You flinch slightly, inhaling the smoke, letting it drape into your lungs slowly. Blowing the smoke into the air, you feel yourself becoming a lot more relaxed. “That was better yeah?” Ellie asks, watching you as she inhaled the joint and blows the smoke into your face.

“I guess so.” You say quietly, everyone feeling the effects of the weed. It hits you harder, your head spinning softly, your eyes getting heavier, and the stir between your legs becoming a lot more prominent. “Should we have another Dina? I’m not sure she can handle two.” Ellie says, looking at your slouched appearance.

You shake your head. “I’m good, I think.” You chuckle. Ellie nods lighting another, placing it between her thin yet plump lips. You watch her, your eyes entranced by the way her lips wrap around the joint. Dina slides her hand further up your leg, catching your attention. You turn to her, a smirk dawning her lips as she tilts her head to get a better look at you.

Ellie hands the joint over once more, this time leaning over you a bit more than usual. The feeling of her skin warming you up a lot more then you already were, her perky and uncovered breasts swaying in your face. You blush softly, your face tinted slightly. The thoughts that run through your head becoming unholy, but you blame it on the weed. Dina takes a drag, inhaling slowly. Suddenly she leans into you, your lips parting as she connects her lips to yours and exhales the smoke back into your lungs.

It was random, causing you to flinch softly. “Did ya like that? Or should I stop?” She slides her hand up your thigh further, her thumb gliding over your clothed cunt softly. Ellie watches, her eyes lingering over your figure. You look at Dina, the sinful thoughts running through your head starting to take over. “I-I don’t do this. I’ve never-“ Ellie silences you, putting the bud of the joint into the couch to let it burn out.

“We got you.”

Like usual, with Ellie and Dina you were doing something you didn’t usually do. Your legs spread open as Dina licked up the slit of your wet and dripping cunt. Ellie grips her hair, guiding her to eat you out just right. Your hands gripping the side of the couch as you whine and groan Dina’s name out into existence. Her arms wrapped around your thighs to keep your legs open as you shake, throwing your head back as she hits the spot that makes you tingle just right.

“Fuhh-ck!” Your head falls back off the couch, Dina’s fingers mingling with the hardened buds underneath your shirt. “Feel good pretty?” Ellie asks softly, looking down at you. You nod, droll pooling at your lips. Dina slides her finger into your core, your back arching into her as you fuck yourself with her fingers. “Fuc- Dina! Oh good-“ You grip the couch harder, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.

She eats you like it was her last meal, her eyes never leaving yours as she penetrates you with another finger. Ellie continues to guide her, hitting all the spots inside you just right. Her hands come down to your chest, running her thumb over the nipple as if she was admiring the way they bounced as you used Dina. “Yesyes.. right there!”

You grind against her face, feeling yourself become a lot needier. The high you felt earlier could never compare to this one. Her hands spreading you open just right, your eyes shut tightly. “Look at me hun.” She says softly, diving back into you as you open your eyes to look down at her. Ellie watches in awe at the way you open up to Dina’s fingers. “Oh shi- I’m gonna cum Din-“ Ellie suddenly moves Dina’s hand away.

You catch your breath, confused as to why she was depriving you. “I wanna turn too.” Dina rolls her eyes. “You could’ve at least let her cum first. I’m sure she can handle two orgasms.” You watch as they talk about you like you're not even there. “Okay then, think you can handle two pretty?” Your eyes pan to Ellie, nodding slowly as you lean back once more. “Good girl, see I told ya.” Dina says, sliding her digits back inside of you.

She decides not to start slow this time, her fingers using you quickly. “I wanna taste you c’mon.” You feel the high you were on coming back, your hands gripping her hair softly. Your eyes don’t leave her as Ellie leans back, watching the both of you as she waits patiently for her turn with you.

“C’mon hun, wanna taste your cum.” Dina speaks sinfully, causing you to fall over the edge. “Oh- cumming! Please!” You release on her fingers, back arching over the edge of the couch. Your legs shake as you orgasm like you never have before. She sucks softly on your sensitive bud, you whine softly. “Gotta take one more for Ellie, she wants a taste too hun.” Dina slaps your cunt softly.

You nod, spreading your legs once more. The adrenaline running through your body causing you to work against how sensitive you were. “Go in then you needy fuck, go get your fill of her before she changes her mind.” Dina slaps Ellie’s arm softly, wiping her face of your essence. Ellie leans in, kissing your stomach, kissing the inside of your thigh, then kissing your fold softly. “I can’t wait anymore.”

She suddenly licks, causing you to close your legs. “Ah Ah C’mon now. You keep ‘em open f’me do the same for El.” Dina spread your legs back open, leaning against Ellie. You whine, feeling sensitive as Ellie continues with her endeavor. She spreads your folds, sliding her finger inside to replace Dina’s. The length of her finger hitting a spot inside you that Dina didn’t hit before.

“Ah, wait! You- god!” You try to close your legs once more, but Dina slaps your inner thigh, holding them open. “Hey, stop it. You said you could take it so take it like a big girl.” Dina giggles, rubbing your inner thigh softly. You chant Ellie’s name, her fingers curling slighting inside you. You grip her hair, riding her face as if she were a dildo and you were a pornstar.

Dina feels her arousal pooling in her pants, sliding her hand down into her jeans as she touches herself at the sight of you. Your bottom lip I’m between your teeth as you groan, Ellie’s hair gripped in between your fingers. She enjoys the sight of it all. Ellie kissing your stomach again as she adds another finger, speeding up just enough to make you scream. “I’m- oh shit! Ellie please…!” You hold onto her wrist to keep her from moving away, riding her fingers and clenching around them.

“Gonna cum pretty, I wanna taste you as bad. S’not fair Dina got to try it first.” You whine, unable to speak. Dina throws her head back as she feels herself about to release around her own fingers. “Gonna cum together yeah? Cum with me YN.” She says breathlessly as she rides her own fingers. Ellie snickers, “ya just couldn’t wait could ya?” Diving back down to devour the essence about to release from you.

Your head spinning softly, your back arching, you ride her fingers until suddenly. You burst, cumming and squeezing around her fingers, your head falling back and your legs shaking like never before. “E-El oh Fuck! Yesyesyes!” You spread your legs more as she licks it all up, not leaving one drop of you behind. “Taste so good pretty.” She says quietly into your cunt.

Dina cums as well, her legs shaking as she slows down, circling her bud slowly. “Oh yes..” she leans back, pulling her hand out of her jeans. “Wanna taste?” She asks, leaning forward and placing her fingers into your mouth, allowing you to suck them clean. Your eyes low, the high still rippling through you.

“Let’s do this again sometime.”

I want them both so bad...

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xo-cori · 1 year ago

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In response to ur kinks post can we just agree communally based on the game that Dina has a thing for wretched little loser girls?? Just real pathetic meow meows??

i can get behind this 100% cuz like…. we all saw how she kinda just adopted ellie like a stray cat. there’s no doubt about it, she loves girls who literally just cannot be normal.

don’t even get me started on how she has a thing for introverts in general. if you fumble over your words or make it clear that you’re nervous the first time you talk to her (more specifically, the first time she approaches you to see how nervous she can make you), she’s already head over heels 🤞

that would start a natural partnership between the two of you, romantic aspect aside; kind of like a remora fish and a shark, she protects you by association. you honestly don’t know why she keeps you around, but god she loves the way you cling to her side when there’s one too many people around, or the way you do your best to impress her with the most mundane shit that means the WORLD to her, like bringing her flowers or making her food.

gonna get a lil nsfw here but…. she’d be so into letting you worship her body, sometimes for literal hours, letting you make her cum at least four times before she even thinks about returning the favor. best believe when she finally gets your pants off and she’s all comfy between your legs, she’s whispering the dirtiest shit just to see you writhe and whimper beneath her touch, only to realize that the reason you’re so impossibly wet (and painfully sensitive) is bc you already came 🤭 makes you give her all the details about how you bundled up the comforter between your thighs and did your best to hump it without her noticing!!!!!!! just so embarrassing. at least now she gets to overstimulate you until you’re begging her to stop teehee

she loves all of it because she loves her lil loser. and the fact that if she tells you to jump, you’ll ask HOW HIGH???

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #dina tlou #dina the last of us #dina nolastname #dina woodward #dina nolastname x reader #dina x reader #dina woodward x reader #dina x fem reader #dina x y/n #dina x you #dina woodward x you #dina nolastname x you #dina woodward smut #dina smut #dina nolastname smut

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joanapplesstuff · 1 year ago

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😳🤫🔥💯

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valeisaslut · 23 days ago

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⭒࿐COLLIDE - c. two

credits for the fanart: nramvv - edited by me

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐖𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄.

← 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑛𝑒 | 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 | 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 →

⚢ pairing: Rockstar!Ellie Williams x Popstar!Reader 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⭒ synopsis: One TMZ headline later, and the internet is in a full-blown meltdown. You should’ve known that sneaking out of Ellie Williams’ hotel at sunrise was a disaster waiting to happen. Now the whole world thinks you and Ellie are dating, and there’s only one way out—lean into the chaos. A fake relationship was never part of the plan, but if anyone can pull it of, it’s the two of you… right? 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⭒ word count: 6,8k 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⭒ content: unserious and chaotic as HELL lmao, fake dating, mostly dialogue, memes and brainrot stuff, LOTS of cursing, pet names, fluff if you squint, use of y/n, modern au, smoking weed, mention of cigarettes, alcohol and drugs, afab!reader, multiple part series, likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated 𖥔 ݁ ˖

TMZ EXCLUSIVE: Y/N’s MYSTERIOUS WALK OF SHAME… STRAIGHT OUT OF ELLIE WILLIAMS’ HOTEL? 👀🔥

Los Angeles, CA – Buckle up, internet, because today’s tea is so hot it might spontaneously combust. Early this morning, global pop sensation y/n was spotted making a very interesting exit from The Four Seasons—an exit that screamed, “I made some choices, and I’ll be dealing with the consequences (happily) later.”

Let’s paint the picture: baggy jeans (very much not hers), an oversized tee (suspiciously familiar), last-night heels, and, most importantly, the kind of walk that suggests she just lived through an... experience.🔥

VIDEO ATTACHED: y/n stepping out of The Four Seasons with the posture of someone who just discovered new life-altering truths about herself.

And now, the cherry on top? The hotel in question just happens to be the same one where rock’s reigning heartbreaker and The Fireflies' frontwoman, Ellie Williams, has been staying during the band's sold-out tour.

Yeah. Let THAT sink in.

THE NIGHT BEFORE: PURE CHAOS

Last night, the musicians were first spotted together at a private club in West Hollywood, and the energy? Dangerous. We’re talking intense eye contact, whispered words, and a proximity that had no business being that close. 👀

Sources inside the club (who, let’s be real, were probably staring way too hard) claim the two were “all over each other the entire night.” And then, like clockwork—both gone. Together.😏

PICTURE ATTACHED: y/n and Ellie at the bar, drinks in hand, leaning in so close they might as well be sharing oxygen.

Fast-forward a few hours, and one of them is leaving a luxury hotel in borrowed clothes, while the other is nowhere to be seen. Hm...

THE INTERNET: INSTANTLY UNHINGED

It’s not every day that the two of the most famous artists on the planet accidentally break the internet with a single walk of shame. It took exactly 0.2 seconds for Twitter—sorry, X—to collectively lose its mind. #YNxEllie shot to the top of the trending list faster than lighting, and the reactions? Pure, unfiltered, internet gold.

Some fans are calling it the rock-pop crossover event of the decade. Others are in full denial, muttering “it’s just a one-time thing” like a prayer (lol, sure). And then there’s the fanfic writers, who are already on their second chapter about this very moment.

Meanwhile, our two leads? Radio. Silence.

No wry Instagram stories. No cryptic tweets. No emergency PR statements. Just Ellie, cool as ever, casually liking a meme about getting your clothes stolen from “the girl you spent all night ruining.” 😭🙃

SO, WHAT HAPPENS NOW?

We wait. Impatiently.

Is this just an iconic but questionable decision? Will y/n post a cryptic thirst trap in retaliation? Will Ellie respond with an even more cryptic Instagram story? Or are we witnessing the birth of music’s next power couple?

One thing’s for sure—this is a story we’ll be watching very closely.

Stay tuned. 😏🔥

What do YOU think? Drop your theories in the comments below! ⬇️🔥

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❤️ 10M — 💬 287,54k

@: this isn’t just a hookup. this is the lesbians Super Bowl.

@: tears in my eyes. full body worship. standing ovulation. whatever it’s called.

@: “mysterious walk of shame” NAH SHE CLOCKED IN, DID OVERTIME, AND LEFT WITH A RAISE 💀

@: not her texting the driver like “can’t feel my legs send help” 😭 icon.

@: someone check on the poor girl ellie this wasn’t a leave her paralyzed challenge

@: THE SECOND PIC. YALL. THEY LOOK SO GODDAMN FINE I’M CHEWING DRYWALL AND DRINKING THE DUST 😩

@: i need them to either hard launch or drop a sex tape at this point because my soul is restless

@: this is the most lesbian thing I’ve ever seen and I was THERE for korrasami and caitvi.

@: i just KNOW Ellie’s strap game goes absolutely feral and that walk was all the proof I needed #cravethat #scientificallyproven

@: pop mother got her back blown OUT

@: #elliehititrawandnowshestrending

@: they are either deeply in love or just HORRENDOUS at sneaky links. either way, I win.

@: tmz trynna act like we don’t instantly recognize Ellie’s entire wardrobe on her lmao

@: she defo picked those on purpose and you can't convince me otherwiseeee

@: the way we all clocked those clothes immediately like homegirl has worn that same fit 67 times this year and counting

@: Ellie dresses like a divorced dad at Home Depot but somehow y/n wearing her clothes is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen

@: one-night thing my ass. drop the collab album. drop the wedding invites. drop the baby name.

@: I have no idea what's going on but I support them!

The studio is cold. Too cold.

You lean against the massive soundboard, eyes heavy with exhaustion as the producer fine-tunes the levels on your latest track. The bass hums through the speakers, deep and rhythmic.

You got home, showered, and walked into the studio like nothing happened. Like you weren’t still replaying everything in your head—the heat of her hands, the weight of her body, the way she— Nope. Not going there.

The only thing keeping you upright is sheer force of will and the coffee clutched in your hands, now lukewarm but still packing enough caffeine to keep your legs from betraying you in front of the expensive equipment.

But something feels off.

Nobody is looking at you.

Nobody is saying anything.

The thing is, your team is never quiet. They talk about everything—schedules, brand deals, what the fuck you’re eating for lunch—but today? Nothing. Just silence.

Not a single offhand comment. No teasing about the all-nighter you clearly pulled. Not even a glance in your direction.

Your producer is laser-focused on the track, nodding along like it holds the meaning of life. Your sound editor keeps his eyes glued to the screen, like looking anywhere else might kill him. And your assistant—sweet, terrible liar that she is—won’t stop sneaking glances at her phone, then at you, then at her phone again, like she’s watching a train wreck in real time and trying to figure out when to break the news that you’re the train.

Slowly, you set your coffee down, reach for your own phone, and unlock it, already feeling the creeping dread claw up your spine.

The second your screen lights up, it’s over. Notifications flood in. X. Instagram. Texts. Group chats blowing up like a damn stock market crash. Millions of mentions. Your name trending in bold, blaring letters.

And then you see it.

TMZ EXCLUSIVE: Y/N'S MYSTERIOUS WALK OF SHAME… STRAIGHT OUT OF ELLIE WILLIAMS’ HOTEL? 👀🔥

You suck in a breath—a sharp, audible gasp that cuts through the eerie silence.

Your assistant makes a tiny, distressed sound. Your producer visibly flinches, finally daring to glance at you. Your sound editor—wise, blessedly silent—just pauses the track.

Your fingers move faster than your brain, scrolling in blind panic. Pictures. Too many fucking pictures.

The first one is a grainy, low-lit shot of you and Ellie at the bar—bodies too close, drinks in hand, faces inches apart. The kind of tension that crackles even through a shitty phone camera. The next? A ruthless side-by-side comparison of Ellie’s Instagram post from last week. Same shirt. Same jeans. The exact ones you walked out wearing.

And then—because the universe is a cruel, twisted place—the final nail in the coffin.

A video.

Of you.

Sneaking out of her hotel.

You hit play, and instantly regret every life choice that led you there. Because why the fuck were you walking like that?!

Not just suspicious. Not just guilty. But the kind of unsteady, post-life-changing-experience walk that has the entire internet foaming at the mouth, legs barely cooperating like you just left the scene of a particularly intense crime.

Your soul exits your body, ascends to the ceiling, and refuses to come back down.

Your phone starts ringing. And you already know who it is. For a brief, fleeting moment, you consider launching the damn thing across the room.

Because of course it’s Rachel.

Your manager and professional-life mastermind. The woman who negotiates your million-dollar deals before breakfast. And, apparently, the bane of your existence right now.

You push through the studio doors without explaining a damn thing, the cool air outside hitting your face like a slap. Your head is pounding, fingers digging into your temples like you can physically massage the embarrassment out of your skull.

Your phone still vibrates in your hand. You don’t even have time to brace yourself before answering. The second you do, her voice explodes through the speaker.

“OH. MY. GOD.”

You flinch, yanking the phone away from your ear like it might physically protect you. It doesn’t. She’s still yelling, still fully spiraling, and honestly? She has every right to. Because you’re trending. Hard.

And not for your music.

“Before you say anything—”

“ARE YOU SEEING THIS? My phone has been BLOWING UP since 6 AM. Do you understand what you’ve done?!”

You sigh, shifting uncomfortably. Here we fucking go.

“Rachel, I’m so fucking sorry, I never meant for that to happen I didn’t know there were paparazzi outside the hotel! I—”

“THIS IS PERFECT.”

“—know I fucked up”

You pause mid-spiral. Blink. “...Wait, what?”

“You heard me! This is GOLD. This is EVERYTHING. Your fans are losing their minds, the internet is eating this up, and you know what that means?”

“…That I need to delete my existence?”

“That this is going to take both of your careers to the next level.”

Your head is spinning. “Whoa—slow down. The fuck you mean?”

Rachel lets out an exaggerated sigh, like she’s explaining shapes to a toddler. “You need to be interesting. She needs damage control. You both need the press for the upcoming albums. This relationship is everything you need.”

“Relationship?” You nearly choke. “Rachel, we just hooked up. It was a one-time thing, nothing else.”

“Oh... just a one-time thing?”

“Yes!”

“Okay.”

She says it so casually you instantly know she’s about to ruin your life.

“Then fake it.”

“WHAT?”

Your soul leaves your body. Again.

“A fake relationship!” She repeats, like it’s the most normal suggestion in the world.

“Oh my god. No. NO. That’s—that’s fucking stupid!"

“Oh, come on, girl.” Rachel groans. “You would be shocked to know how many celebrity couples are fake. Like, 90% of them, and people still eat that shit up like it’s their job. It’s the most effective PR stunt in the history of PR stunts.”

“I don't care! Even if it’s fake, I don’t wanna be in a relationship with her!”

Rachel, clearly unimpressed “Be so fucking for real right now.”

“Listen” she continues, slipping into full Hollywood mastermind mode. “It’s the perfect rockstar-popstar trope that people are gonna LOVE. Some staged dates, some Instagram stories, show up to a few award shows together, write some songs about her for the album—blah, blah, blah. Then, when you both get what you want, you drop a statement about breaking up on good terms because of ‘busy schedules’ or ‘long distance’ or whatever. Boom. Done. Headlines. History.”

You exhale sharply, dragging a hand down your face, but you can already feel her words getting to you.

“Okay…that does sound kinda iconic...”

You hear her scream.

“BUT” You snap. “I seriously doubt she’s gonna be on board.”

“She has to be. That girl needs to clean up her image immediately. If she wants to keep her career afloat, she needs to say yes." Rachel doesn’t miss a beat. "Honestly, it even benefits her more than it benefits you.”

You press the phone tighter against your ear, your free hand rubbing over your face over and over again as if that’ll somehow erase this chaos unfolding in real-time.

But honestly?

What could go wrong?

So you exhale sharply again.

“Fine, fine. We’ll… debate it.”

“PERFECT! Tell me how it goes!”

There’s a short pause, just long enough for you to think—maybe—this conversation is about to take a serious turn.

And then—

“…So, how was she in bed?”

You nearly drop your phone. “RACHEL.”

“What?! It’s a valid question! I mean, I saw the walk.” A beat. Then, way too smugly “People are even making edits of your limp.”

Okay.

This is officially the worst day of your life.

“We are NOT doing this.”

“Oh, we are ABSOLUTELY doing this.”

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut. There's no escaping this.

“Was it life-changing or life-threatening? Did she break your back or fix your scoliosis?”

You stare up at the sky, silently begging for divine intervention. None comes. So, with the weight of someone who has lost everything, you exhale.

“��she made me see fucking Jesus.”

Silence. A beat.

Rachel screams so loud you nearly throw your phone at the window.

“I FUCKING KNEW IT.”

“HANGING UP NOW.”

“NO WAIT!—DID SHE—”

“BYE.”

You slam the End Call button so fast it’s a miracle your screen doesn’t crack.

Blissful, beautiful silence.

For exactly three seconds.

Buzz.

Rachel: COME BACK WE ARE NOT DONE.

Buzz.

Rachel: do I schedule a chiropractor or a priest? 😭

You turn your phone off. Permanently.

It was late, the kind of night where the city hummed low in the background, neon signs bleeding color into the streets.

And Ellie Williams was trying to have a normal band practice.

Trying.

But it was pretty fucking hard when Jesse and Dina were staring at her like she’d just announced she was quitting music to become a full-time televangelist.

She adjusted the strap of her guitar, already irritated. “Can you guys, I don’t know, say something instead of fucking looking at me like that?”

“Oh, we’re just waiting...” Jesse said as he leaned against the drum set, taking a slow drag of his cigarette and grinning like the absolute menace he was.

Dina, perched on an amp, smirked. “Yeah. Just giving you a chance to come clean before we bring out the receipts.”

Ellie scoffed, trying to play it cool. “What receipts?”

Dina wiggled her phone in the air, smirk widening. “Seems like you’ve been very busy, rockstar.”

She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “The fuck are you both talking about!?”

Jesse and Dina exchanged the look. The kind that made Ellie’s patience thin by the second.

Jesse sighed dramatically, putting out his cigarette on the plato like he was about to drop the biggest bombshell of the century. “Alright, since you’re playing dumb—”

He pulled out his phone with the enthusiasm of a man whose sole purpose in life was witnessing Ellie’s downfall.

“Lemme just read the best part real quick—” And clearing his throat like he was about to give a Shakespearean performance:

“‘Global superstar y/n was spotted leaving Ellie Williams’s hotel early this morning after a rumored all-night rendezvous. Fans immediately noticed the pop star's unusually relaxed wardrobe choice—’”

Dina whistled. “‘—baggy jeans and an oversized tee, both belonging to a certain someone who was seen wearing them just last week—’”

Jesse shook his head, flipping his phone around. “Nah, this is crazy. This is some Oscar-worthy shit.”

Ellie groaned the second she saw the TMZ photo—you stepping out of the hotel in her clothes. And then there was her, leaving an hour later, hoodie up like it could shield her from literally everyone, rubbing the back of her neck like some dumbass who just realized they fucked up in a romcom.

She looked guilty as hell.

He zoomed in on her face, laughing. “Yo, you look like you just realized you caught feelings.”

Dina snorted, scrolling through her phone. “Oh, they are EATING this shit up. Listen to this” —dramatic inhale— “‘They are either deeply in love or just horrendous at sneaky links. Either way, I win.’”

Jesse howled. “‘Someone check on the poor girl—Ellie, this wasn’t a ‘leave her paralyzed’ challenge.’”

Ellie groaned. “You guys—”

“OH MY GOD.” Dina gasped. “SOMEONE JUST MADE A SIDE-BY-SIDE.”

Jesse leaned in. “Caption?”

“‘WHAT IN THE SCISSOR OLYMPICS. GOLD MEDAL PERFORMANCE.”

He collapsed against the drum set, howling even harder. “Nah, this is crazy. You really let her walk outta there like that?! You KNEW what you did. You knew EXACTLY what you were doing.”

Ellie covered her face with her hands. “I hate it here.”

Jesse was thriving, nearly bouncing on his feet like a kid on Christmas morning. “Dude. You bagged y/n. Like, THE Y/N. Pop princess herself. That fine-ass woman writes songs so good they make people crash their cars.”

Dina nodded solemnly. “I crashed twice to ‘Stay.’”

Ellie shot her a look. “First of all, you shouldn’t have a license.” Then at Jesse “Second, can you fucking NOT? We just hooked up. That’s it.”

He just snorted. “Yeah? Tell that to the 40 million people who liked the tweets about it.”

Ellie groaned so loud it could’ve been mistaken for a death rattle. “This is so fucking bad.”

Jesse ignored her, grinning like an absolute menace. “Like, do you even understand the cultural impact of what you’ve done? This is like—” He gestured wildly. “—punk rock meets Billboard Hot 100 hookup of the century!”

Dina smirked. “And judging by the way she was walking? You bodied that shit.”

Ellie scowled. “She was wearing heels all night!”

Dina arched a brow. “So were you gonna say that, or are you just making that up now?”

Ellie opened her mouth. Closed it. Dragged a hand down her face.

Jesse cackled. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

She was this close to walking out.

Then, like a gift from hell, her phone started buzzing.

Your name flashed across the screen. Gasps.

Ellie panicked, immediately shoving it in her pocket.

Dina’s jaw dropped. “Did you just—DECLINE Y/N?! Are you fucking STUPID?!”

Jesse shook his head, dead serious. “No, no. Let her cook. Maybe she’s playing hard to get.”

Ellie groaned, yanking her jacket off the chair and making her way to the door. “Practice over. I hope both of you trip over a flight of stairs and eat shit all the way down.”

“Aw, so sweet of you!” Dina beamed. “We’re gonna start picking baby names as soon as you leave.”

Ellie didn’t even look back—just flipped them off on her way out like a parting gift.

The door slammed shut loudly.

A beat of silence.

Then, muffled through the wall—

“AND JESSE STOP SAYING LET HER COOK THE MEME DIED MONTHS AGO.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP NO IT DIDN’T!”

Ellie had barely stepped out of the studio, muttering “Fucking kill me” before calling you back. As soon as you answered, she was quick to be the first one to talk.

“Before you say anything—this is not my fault.”

Your voice came through immediately.

“Ellie.”

Tone flat. Dead serious.

She hesitated. “…Yeah?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Ellie stopped dead in her tracks. Like, full-body malfunction.

Her entire fucking life flashed before her eyes. Marriage. A house. A tiny baby wrapped in a flannel onesie. Joel crying at the babyshower. Dina and Jesse as the weirdly invested godparents.

Silence.

Then—

“Oh, fuck off!”

You howled with laughter. “Not even a little panic? All I got was a one-second existential crisis?”

“Dude. Biology exists.”

Though, if she was being honest, you had her for a solid half-second. She could already hear Joel clearing his throat, preparing for his father-of-the-bride speech, could already see Jesse and Dina clicking through a PowerPoint titled "Ellie Williams: Accidentally Domesticated—A case study."

You scoffed “See, this is why you’re no fun.”

“This is why you're deranged.”

“You love it.”

“No. You need therapy.”

“I have therapy. On Thursdays. Shoutout to Linda.”

Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose. “Did you actually need something, or was this just a drive-by psychological attack?”

“Oh, you know. Just the minor issue that the entire fucking internet thinks we’re dating?”

Ellie groaned, unlocking her car with a beep. “Technically, we could just ignore it—”

“Ellie.”

“…Yeah, yeah. What’s the damage?”

“Well” you started, voice syrupy sweet, “Not only do I look like I did the world’s sluttiest walk of shame, but people also figured out those were your clothes. And, fun fact! They say you dress like a divorced dad from Home Depot.”

“Yeah, I saw.”

“No, I don’t think you understand the severity of it.” Your voice got increasingly dramatic. “People have shipping spreadsheets. They have theories. Someone made a Google doc analyzing our astrology compatibility. Ellie, we are trending #1 WORLDWIDE.”

Ellie ran a hand down her face. “This is so fucking stupid.”

“Someone said—direct quote— that this is ‘the lesbian's Super Bowl.' ”

She paused. “That one might be true tho.”

“Oh, cut the bullshit.”

Ellie grinned, leaning back. “Alright, so what’s the move? Damage control?”

A pause.

“Well…” you said, voice a little too careful, “my manager thinks we should… lean into it.”

Ellie’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”

Another pause.

Then, your voice, even softer now. “Can we… talk in person?”

Ellie immediately clocked the hesitation. “Why do I feel like I’m 'bout to get scammed?”

“You’re not! I just… I’d rather explain in person.”

She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “…Fine. Where?”

“My place.”

Ellie frowned. “Why yours?”

“Because there’s paparazzi crammed outside the Four Seasons, dumbass.”

…Fair.

She exhaled. “…Yeah. Alright.”

“Cool. I’ll send you the address.”

A beat. Then—

“…Wait” Ellie muttered. “How the fuck did you get my number?”

Silence.

“…Contacts.”

Ellie’s brows furrowed. “What does that mean? Who—”

“Doesn’t matter.” you cut in, then cleared your throat. “Anyway. Can you, uh… give me my dress back? It was custom.”

“Yeah, about that…”

“…Ellie.”

“It might still be on the floor.”

A sharp inhale. “You little shit.”

Ellie smirked as she pulled out of the parking lot.

“On my way, pop star.”

Ellie had barely knocked twice before the door swung open.

And there you were.

Standing in the dim light of your penthouse, arms crossed, drowning in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants. Your hair was slightly messy, like you’d been curled up somewhere before she got here, and your skin glowed just right under the soft, golden hue of your apartment lights.

“Hey”

She exhaled, stepping inside as you shut the door behind her. She barely had time to take in the space before she realized—this was money.

The penthouse stretched wide, the kind of design meant to make people feel small. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the city skyline, headlights cutting through the night far below. The furniture was sleek, modern—gray couches, glass tables, designer pieces that looked both expensive and comfortable. A grand piano sat near the window, it's lid closed and a guitar leaning against it, used enough to make Ellie smirk.

But it was the small things that caught her eye. A candle burning low on the counter. A glass of wine next to a notebook cracked open on the coffee table, filled with lyrics. Scribbled, messy. Some lines scratched out, others rewritten in the margins.

“Jesus” she muttered, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Could’ve warned me I was walking into a fucking palace.”

“Says the millionaire.”

Her eyes flicked to you—leaning against the counter, arms crossed, mouth twitching like you were amused by her reaction.

She huffed.

“So.”

The silence stretched, just a little too thick. A weight neither of you wanted to touch.

Then, finally, you exhaled.

“My manager thinks we should fake date.”

Ellie snorted “Yeah, no shit.”

“She says it’ll be good for both of us.”

She hummed, sauntering over to the couch before sinking into it like she owned the place. Her legs spread wide, hands rubbing over her jeans, shoulders sinking into the cushions. She looked up at you, unreadable.

“And? You wanna do it?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know.” Your fingers tapped against the counter, your teeth dragged over your bottom lip. You looked… conflicted. “It’s just—ugh. The thought of staging something like this is so gross.”

You exhaled, tilting your head back. “Pretending to be into you in public? It just feels—”

A beat.

Ellie raised an eyebrow.

You hesitated.

And there it was. The shift.

“Pretending?” she repeated slowly.

You scowled. “You know what I mean.”

Ellie tilted her head, gaze flicking downward—brief, barely there—before dragging right back up like she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Do I?”

Your skin flushed, irritation prickling down your spine. She was too comfortable—slouched on your couch like it was hers, fingers drumming against her knee, wearing that look. That lazy, lopsided smirk that made your stomach clench and your heart do backflips.

You muttered. "Cut the bullshit."

Ellie watched you, green eyes sharp, the corner of her mouth curling like she already knew what you were thinking—like she could see straight through you. And maybe she could.

That was the problem.

Because this wasn’t just some business deal, some harmless PR stunt.

This was Ellie fucking Williams.

A menace. A woman who flirted like it was her second nature. Who carried herself with the kind of reckless confidence that made people love her and hate her in the same breath. She was sharp, fast-mouthed, and annoyingly charming when she wanted to be. She kissed like she had something to prove and fucked like she knew she was amazing at it.

She was the kind that didn’t just leave bruises—that left marks.

And now, you are supposed to pretend to be hers. In public. In pictures. In interviews. She’d make it look effortless, like every lingering touch and stolen glance meant everything.

Meanwhile, you’d have to grit your teeth and pretend she wasn’t already under your skin—pretend you don’t know exactly how this will end.

Ellie’s voice pulled you back.

“We can set rules.”

You blinked, exhaling sharply. “Rules?”

She nodded, resting her elbows on her knees. “Yeah. Lines we don’t cross. Shit we don’t do. Make it easier.”

You considered that. It did make sense. Setting boundaries meant this wouldn’t spiral into a complete disaster—just a controlled one.

“…Fine.”

Ellie grinned, tilting her head. “Great. Rule number one—no catching feelings.”

You scoffed, pushing off the counter and taking a sip of your wine. “Oh, trust me, Williams, that was never a problem.”

What a goddamn lie.

Ellie chuckled, dragging a hand over her jaw before settling back into the couch. She watched you a second too long, eyes flicking over you like she was deciding whether to call you on your bullshit. That fucking grin still lingered—lazy, amused.

She was enjoying this.

You exhaled slowly, setting your wine glass down with a quiet clink. “I got my own rules.”

“Let’s hear ‘em.”

You leveled her with a look. “No strings attached.”

Ellie blinked, then snorted. “Starting off strong.”

“I’m serious,” you said, arms crossing. “No getting weird about anything. We do what we have to do in public, but behind closed doors, it’s our business. No jealousy, no possessiveness.”

Ellie tilted her head, her smirk growing. “So basically, we can do whatever we want?”

You hesitated.

A fraction of a second too long.

Then nodded. “Yeah.”

There was a shift in the air. Subtle, almost imperceptible, but there. Ellie’s eyes dragged over you—slow, measured, her expression unreadable.

“…Can we still fuck, though?”

Your face didn’t waver, but your stomach clenched, a tiny, unwelcome knot forming deep in your gut.

“Yeah. But it doesn’t mean anything.”

The words landed firm, like a line drawn in the sand, but even as you said them, they felt a little off. Like something rehearsed, something you were trying a little too hard to believe.

Ellie let out a low chuckle, shaking her head. “Jesus, babe. You’re ruthless.”

“You got a problem with that?”

“Not even a little.” She stretched out, arms draping over the back of the couch, looking maddeningly at ease. “Just didn’t expect you to be the one setting that rule.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, because deep down, you weren’t sure what would piss you off more—her calling you out on your bullshit, or the fact that she might actually be right.

Ellie hummed. “Fine. No strings attached. What else?”

You rubbed your temple, thinking. “Public stuff needs to be controlled. If we’re going to be seen together, it needs to be intentional.”

Ellie nodded. “So, no sneaky paparazzi pics of us at, like, McDonald’s?”

“Exactly.”

“There goes my dream of getting papped in the drive-thru with you.”

You ignored that. “Next—if one of us wants out, we end it. No bullshit.”

Ellie’s smirk softened slightly. “Fair enough.”

The mood had shifted—just a fraction. You weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a warning sign, but at least your shoulders didn’t feel as tight anymore.

You reached for your wine again. “We also need a reason.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow.

“For why we’re suddenly together,” you clarified.

She considered it for a moment, then shrugged. “Easy. We met through mutual friends, started talking, made it official recently.”

You nodded. “Good. Vague, but believable.”

Then Ellie grinned. “So when’s our anniversary?”

“I’m breaking up with you already.”

Ellie threw her head back, laughing. “Damn. Cold as hell.”

You just smirked, watching the wine swirl in your glass, but the humor faded when Ellie leaned forward slightly, her gaze a little sharper now.

“So, just to recap,” she said, voice steady. “No feelings. No jealousy. We can fuck, but it doesn't mean anything. And if one of us wants out, we’re out.”

“…Yeah.” You swallowed, the weight of it settling between you both. “...Are you actually okay with this?”

Ellie leaned back into the couch, dragging a hand over her jaw.

Was she?

She’d done PR stunts before—appearances, interviews, the occasional fake chemistry for cameras. But a fake relationship? That was a different level of commitment. A different level of risk.

At the same time… she wasn’t exactly in a position to say no. She needed something to get the media off her ass. Headlines about bar fights, reckless behavior, and being a bad influence were piling up like a rap sheet. A carefully controlled narrative—a shiny, clean distraction—might be the only thing that kept her from burning out entirely.

But then…

She looked at you.

Drop-dead gorgeous. Smart as hell. Sharp tongue. A little mean in a way that made people want to prove themselves.

And yeah, sure—this was fake. But Ellie wasn’t fucking stupid. Fake or not, this was the kind of shit that got under her skin, settled in deep and refused to leave.

She’d made plenty of bad decisions before, walked into things knowing exactly how they would end, knowing they’d chew her up and spit her out. That was the thing about trouble. It never felt like trouble in the moment. It started as a game, as a deal, as something simple—until one day, it wasn’t. Until it had its teeth in her, until she was in too deep to pretend she didn’t care.

And this?

This had all the makings of that kind of mistake.

But she still exhaled, still ran a hand through her hair, still met your eyes without hesitation.

“Yeah” She sighed “I’m in.”

“Alright,” you murmured, swirling the wine in your glass before taking a slow sip. Then, with a smirk just shy of reckless—

“This is officially the worst decision of our lives.”

Ellie leaned back like she had all the time in the world, legs spreading wider, her grin all sharp edges. “What you mean? This is already the most stable relationship I’ve ever had.”

You scoffed, reaching for your wine again. “That’s not exactly comforting.”

Ellie shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, babe. The bar is in hell.”

You closed your eyes for a second, exhaled, then took another long drink. “God help me.”

After a few minutes, Ellie reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out a pre-rolled blunt, twirling it lazily between her fingers. She glanced up at you, a grin tugging at the corner of her lips.

“You smoke?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

Ellie shrugged, biting the tip of the blunt. “What? It’s part of the rockstar lifestyle.”

You scoffed. “And I’m the popstar, so technically, I should be saying no.”

Ellie pulled out a lighter, flicking it open with a metallic click. “Live a little.”

You exhaled. “Fine. But if TMZ catches me high, I’m blaming you.”

Ellie grinned, bringing the lighter to the tip of the blunt, the paper curling as it burned. She took a slow, practiced drag, holding it deep in her lungs before exhaling smoothly, the smoke swirling toward the ceiling. Then she passed it to you.

You hesitated for a half-second before bringing it to your lips, inhaling. The burn was familiar, settling in your chest before you exhaled, watching the smoke dissipate into the dimly lit room.

Already, the tension from earlier—the ridiculous fake-dating rules, the push and pull of whatever this was—started to fade into something looser, easier.

Ellie watched you, her smirk deepening. “Damn. You’re not new to this.”

You took another hit before passing it back, lips quirking. “Told you. I just have a better PR team than you.”

Ellie chuckled, shaking her head as she took another drag.

Somehow, the conversation had spiraled.

You were both slumped against the couch, trading the last remnants of the blunt back and forth, locked in a heated debate over whether or not you’d survive a zombie apocalypse.

Ellie scoffed, waving a lazy hand. “C’mon, you wouldn’t last a week.”

“Excuse me?” You sat up, pointing at her. “I would absolutely outlive you.”

“You literally have, like, five personal assistants. You don’t even carry your own bags.”

“So? That doesn’t mean I can’t fight!”

Ellie raised an eyebrow, amused. “Alright. How would you kill a zombie?”

You blinked. “...Guns?”

Ellie groaned, shaking her head like you had just personally offended her.

“What?!”

“You’d run out of ammo in, like, a week.”

You crossed your arms. “Okay, smartass. What’s your genius survival plan?”

“Baseball bat. Blunt force trauma. Reusable, no reload time.”

You wrinkled your nose. “That’s so gross.”

Ellie shrugged. “Yeah? So is dying.”

You huffed, sinking back into the couch. “I’m sure that if I were in a zombie apocalypse, I’d be the immune one.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, flicking the blunt towards the ashtray. “Oh, shut up. I'd be the immune one. And the main character.”

You huffed, dramatically flopping back against the couch, exhaling a long, exaggerated sigh. Ellie grinned, stretching her arms behind her head.

“All that contract negotiation made me hungry.”

You snorted, swirling the last sip of wine in your glass. “You literally agreed to everything in under five minutes.”

“Exactly,” Ellie sighed. “Exhausting.”

She pulled out her phone, scrolling. “What’s the most unserious meal we could possibly order right now?”

You barely had to think. “Taco Bell.”

Ellie’s face lit up. “God, I fucking love you.”

You shot her a dry look.

“Platonically. Obviously.”

You rolled your eyes, watching as she tapped aggressively on the app. “What do you want?”

“Crunchwrap Supreme, two Doritos Locos Tacos, and a Baja Blast.”

Ellie blinked. “You didn’t even hesitate.”

“I take my Taco Bell order very seriously.”

Ellie hummed approvingly. “Respect.” She added your order to the already absurd amount of food in her cart and checked out.

By the time the Taco Bell arrived, you were both fully slumped into the couch, heavy-limbed and loose from the high. Ellie tossed the bag onto the coffee table with zero grace, nearly knocking over your very expensive candle.

“Jesus, be careful” you muttered, steadying it.

Ellie unwrapped her burrito with a crinkle of foil, smirking. “What, scared I’ll ruin your rich-person aesthetic?”

You leaned back, exhaling. “Yeah, actually. I have a brand to uphold.”

Ellie huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head as she took a bite. The two of you ate in a comfortable lull, the only sounds coming from the low hum of music playing from your speaker and the occasional rustle of food wrappers.

In that moment, you felt something you hadn’t felt with anyone in a long time—at ease. Because being with her was effortless.

No need to pose, fake a smile, or worry if your hair was in place. You could just exist. And there was something dangerously comfortable about that, something weirdly domestic. Like slipping into a rhythm you hadn’t even realized you’d been craving.

Ellie spoke suddenly, pulling you back, like the thought had just slipped out before she could decide if it was worth saying.

“So, why’d you start doing music?”

The question landed between you like a weight, unexpected and heavy.

You paused, mid-bite, blinking at her. She wasn’t even looking at you—just lazily pulling apart her quesadilla, like she hadn’t just cracked open something raw and unplanned.

You swallowed, shifting slightly. “I don’t know.”

A beat.

“It’s the only thing I was ever really good at.”

That got her attention. Her fingers stilled against the tortilla, her eyes flicking up—steady, unreadable.

With a quiet sigh, you set your food down. “I mean, growing up, I sucked at everything else. School, sports, whatever—I just never stuck with anything. But music?” You tilted your head, feeling the thought click into place. “That made sense. I liked how it made people feel. You write something, and suddenly, some stranger out there feels understood in a way they didn’t before. Like, for three minutes, they’re not alone.”

Ellie’s chewing slowed, her gaze lingering. “Yeah.” Her voice had dropped, more thoughtful. “That’s kinda the whole point, huh?”

You hummed, watching her. “…What about you?”

She hesitated, then leaned back into the couch, stretching like she was trying to shake something off. “Not that different, honestly.” One arm draped over the backrest, fingers tapping idly against the cushion. “Joel was always into music. Taught me how to play guitar when I was a kid, and it just kinda stuck ever since.”

Your head tilted slightly. “Joel Miller? That’s your dad, right?”

A nod. “Yeah. He’s—” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “—intense. But in a good way, mostly. He gives a shit. Probably more than I deserve.”

Your brows knitted together. “That’s a weird thing to say.”

Ellie let out a quiet chuckle, but it was dry, almost automatic. “Nah. Just being honest.”

Something about the way she said it made your chest feel tight.

You thought about pushing, about pressing your thumb against that tiny crack she’d let slip, but something told you she’d just deflect, maybe make some stupid joke to steer the conversation away.

So, instead, you sighed dramatically, letting the moment pass. “I think I’m too high for all this deep shit.”

Ellie huffed out a laugh. “Same.”

You grinned, swirling your drink. “Okay, new topic—what’s your favorite song?”

Ellie tilted her head, thinking. “Dunno. How’s that one song of yours go? That’s that me espresso?”

The room went still.

You blinked.

Once.

Twice.

A deep, soul-crushing betrayal settled in your chest, a wound so profound it might never heal. Your breath caught, fingers gripping your shirt like she had physically stabbed you.

Ellie, still chewing, barely spared you a glance. “What?”

Your hands trembled. “That’s Espresso.”

Your voice dropped an octave. Near-feral.

“BY. SABRINA. CARPENTER.”

Ellie paused mid-bite, brow furrowing. “Wait… that’s not your song?”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

Ellie shrugged, unbothered. “I mean, y’all sound kinda similar.”

You shot up so fast from the couch it screeched against the floor. “I HOPE YOUR AMP SHORT-CIRCUITS MID-SOLO.”

Ellie’s laughter rang through the room, loud and unbothered. “Jesus. Touch some grass.”

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the weight of an arm draped over your waist.

The second was the godawful dryness in your mouth, the kind that only came from bad decisions the night before and even worse hydration choices.

Squinting against the morning light, you shifted slightly, trying to piece together where the hell you were. Your head ached, limbs heavy, the air still thick with the scent of weed.

And then, as you turned your head—

Ellie.

Dead asleep beside you.

Face buried in the couch, hair a disaster, breathing slow and steady. One arm thrown over your waist like it belonged there, her entire body half-pressed against yours, radiating warmth. Her tank top had ridden up slightly, exposing just enough of the tattoos trailing down her back to make your already-dysfunctional brain short-circuit.

It should be illegal to look that good while sleeping.

You swallowed hard, painfully aware of the way her fingers twitched slightly against your stomach. Desperate for a distraction, you forced your gaze to the rest of the room.

The coffee table was an absolute crime scene—wrappers, crumpled napkins, open sauce packets, empty Baja Blast cups, and one lonely, half-eaten quesadilla clinging to life.

You groaned softly, rubbing your face, before muscle memory had you reaching for your phone.

And that’s when the real nightmare started.

Rachel (25 Missed Calls, 17 Texts).

Your stomach immediately twisted into knots.

Dreading whatever mess you’d apparently caused, you clicked the messages.

Rachel: WAKE UP Rachel: WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP Rachel: CHECK TWITTER RIGHT NOW.

A cold dread crawled up your spine.

With the kind of slow, creeping horror usually reserved for slasher films, you opened Twitter.

And there it was.

Trending.

#y/nandEllie

#HARDLAUNCHOFTHECENTURY

Your entire body locked up.

“What the fuck?” you croaked, voice barely functioning.

Next to you, Ellie shifted, groaning as her arm tightened around your waist, pulling you in just a fraction before she mumbled into the cushion, voice thick with sleep, “Why’re you talking?”

You didn’t even process the fact that she was literally holding you because you were too busy trying not to pass out.

Instagram. You need to check instagram.

And then you saw it.

Your most recent story.

A photo of Ellie.

Sitting on the couch, head tilted down, scrolling on her phone. Messy hair, tattoos on full display, one leg tucked up like she owned the place. In front of her? The entire ungodly Taco Bell order. Wrappers, bags, napkins—absolute devastation.

And the caption, in bold, unhinged letters:

she eats like a mf frat boy but somehow still looks hot. life is unfair.

One hundred million people have already seen it.

“FUCK!”

Ellie shifted again, her fingers skimming your stomach as she let out a sleepy groan. “Dude” she mumbled. “What now?”

You turned to her, shoving the phone directly in her face, voice pure horror.

“You let me post this?!”

She blinked at the screen. Then blinked again. And then, as if the universe hadn’t already humiliated you enough, she started grinning.

It was slow at first, creeping across her face, her shoulders starting to shake—before she full-on lost it. Ellie fucking cackled. Like, sleep-rough, chest-shaking, burying-her-face-in-the-couch dying.

You smacked her arm. “THIS IS FUCKING SERIOUS!”

She barely lifted her head, still grinning like an absolute menace.

“We smoked another blunt, got drunk, and thought it would be funny.” She stretched lazily and patted your thigh, voice rough with amusement. “So, I guess we’re official now.”

You smacked her again.

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࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ I HAD SO MUCH FUN W THIS ONE LMAOOO. I went so full out with brainrot memes i realized how much i need to touch some grass. I did like 30 proofreads, but there might still be a few grammar mistakes here and there—sorry in advance, english isn't my first language and I will be happy to receive constructive criticism!.

Please leave a comment if you’re interested in being on the permanent taglist for this series!

see ya'll soon, stay tuned ;)

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