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dare to fuck this up
summary: ever since your last game of truth or dare ellie's been avoiding you and it's time for an intervention
tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs and alcohol (not used), oral (e receiving), fingering (r receiving), finger riding (r receiving), little bit of angst, afab reader, the knee thing
a/n: this took me 2 months cause i work full time and it's 10k words so. enjoy (thank u for all the love on part 1! <3) also for anyone who doesn't know the tiktok dance i mentioned i linked it. don't look under the sound you'll spend way too long watching hot women dance
part 1
You hadn't talked about it.Â
You had woken up the next morning, the sun blinding you from the window that was still left open. A cold autumn breeze ruffled your curtains, pricking at your bare skin. With one foot still in a dream, you'd groaned, turning over and pulling your blanket over your head. You had burrowed your head into your pillow - it still smelled earthy, rich with cologne and the faintest smell of weed. It had made your nose wrinkle only briefly, before you had reached out, searching for the warmth of another body - but your fingers only landed on the sheets, now cool to the touch.Â
You sat up with a gasp, the blanket pooling around your lap. But you had fallen asleep on top of your blankets, hadn't you?Â
The comforter was laid neatly over you, the pillows on the other side of the bed propped against your headboard, unbothered. The sun was streaming through the window, filtering through your curtains and shining in splatters of light against your own bare skin. Your small room was deafeningly quiet.Â
That had been three weeks ago.Â
For three weeks, Ellie avoided you. You hadn't seen her when you left to take your exam that morning. By the time you got home - after classes and after your part-time job - it was dark. The door to her bedroom was firmly shut, the muffled sound of music leaking into the living room - you wanted to smile when you realized she was listening to that song you had recommended. You thought about knocking on her door; not even to talk about what happened, really, but just because she was your best friend. Instead, you ate leftover takeout - cold because you were too tired to microwave it - and went to bed. You could hear her quietly singing to the music through your flimsy wall, falling asleep listening to her voice.Â
At first, you honestly thought you had dreamed it. You thought maybe you had fallen asleep, sleep deprivation and vodka drawing out this fantasy in your dreams to torment you when you woke. But when you looked in the mirror, the bruises were still there. You ran your fingertips across the one on your collarbone, pressing at the one left behind your ear; you could still feel the warmth of Ellie's mouth against your skin, her teeth grazing across your hips. The phantom feeling still sent a shiver down your spine, heat creeping in your stomach.Â
Ellie was trying her best to avoid you, but she still lived with you. After three days of not speaking, you resorted to a different approach. She didn't seem to have any plan to speak with you anytime soon - certainly not about what happened - so you let your body do the talking. You began wearing primarily v-necks and tank tops - ignoring the fact that it was still fall - simply to broadcast the line of lovebites she had left, her signature written all over your skin. They had faded slightly, but the purplish bruises still blossomed along your collar. You began wearing shorts around, short enough to show the bruise on your thigh; you let the fabric sit low enough to show the one at your hip, a pretty blend of colors that made you ache. The few times you did see her - when she was scavenging for food in the kitchen or right when she got home, before she could scurry away back to her room - you could feel her eyes lingering on you, gaze like a brand against your skin, burning all the spots she had marked.Â
And she would hurry back to her room, locking the door behind her.Â
Fine.Â
If she refused to talk about it, you thought, you'd just have to make her.Â
Which is why, three weeks after your original game - three weeks after that stupid fucking night - you bought a new bottle of vodka (by the time you had found the old one, it had spilled the last of its contents into your rug. Your room still smelled of it). When you got home, Ellieâs door was shut, just as it had been every day for three weeks. You kicked off your boots, leaving them in a pile in the hall, and knocked on her door.
âSorry, Iâm busy,â she called - just as she had every day for three weeks.Â
You pursed your lips and knocked again, harder.Â
âIâm busy!â she called again, her voice hard. It might have stung if you didnât know her so well.
So, you knocked again. And kept knocking, a steady, continuous rhythm that echoed against the walls. You heard Ellie curse under her breath, could hear the scrape of her chair and her footsteps, and you kept knocking. You didnât stop - didnât even slow - until she opened the door in a huff, your hand falling against open air.Â
âWhat the hell are you-âÂ
You shoved the bottle of vodka against her chest, cutting her off. She gripped it hastily before it could shatter against the floor.Â
She looked frazzled. You had seen her during several exam seasons, during harrowing projects and infuriating essays. You had seen her in the hospital, two years ago, after breaking her leg skateboarding to work. But there was something in the way her hair was disheveled, sticking up at odd angles as though she had been running her fingers through it over and over and over again. There were bags under her eyes, purplish splotches like watercolor.Â
And her eyesâŚ. Her eyes were completely shattered.Â
So you hesitated - briefly, just long enough for her to see the stutter on your lips - before you said, âTruth or dare?â
And the game began.Â
Ellie looked at you, staring for several moments that stretched into infinity. You wanted to grasp it, to wrap your fingers around that stretched thread of a moment and hold it there where it couldn't hurt either of you. You weren't ready to let it go. But Ellie was looking at you with those broken eyes, and before you could say or do anything - before you caved and took the bottle back, fleeing back to the safety of your own room - the thread snapped.Â
Ellie shook her head - and kept shaking it, as if doing so would rid her of this⌠whatever this was. âNo,â she murmured, avoiding your eyes as her grip around the bottleâs neck tightened. âNo, Iâm not doing this. Iâm busy, okay? I have an exam tomorrow-â
She moved to close the door - shutting it right in your face - but you kicked your foot out to stop it.Â
âWhen somebody asks the question,â you said, reciting the stupid little agreement you both had written out two years ago, the night you established this tradition, âyou have to play the game to its conclusion; when you run out of questions or pass out from alcohol poisoning. Those are the rules, El. Remember?âÂ
And still, she just looked at you, her brow furrowed like you were an equation she couldnât solve - couldnât even read, really. Her knuckles were white around the bottleâs neck, and when you looked down, her hands were shaking. You wanted more than anything to put your hands over hers, to still them - to bring those hands to your lips and kiss the white knuckles until she released her fists. Instead, you dug your nails into your thighs.Â
You watched as Ellie took a deep, steadying breath, clenching her fists tighter before releasing the tension, her fingers relaxing around the bottle; her hands stopped trembling. She smiled at you, but it was tight, her eyes empty of their usual mischief. âAlright,â she said, and her voice was just as tight as her fists had been moments ago - the tension not gone, only transferred. âOkay, Iâll play. But you only get an hour - I really do need to study.âÂ
Ellieâs bedroom was the same layout as yours, only flipped, the two a mirror of each other. Strings of lights hung crookedly along the walls, the bulbs casting a soft, warm glow amongst the room, the same hazy hue of a dream. An easel leaned in one corner, a canvas propped against it; there were only the barest scribbles of an outline, incomprehensible to you. You thought it may be a profile, the gentle slope of a nose and soft lips sketched in pencil, but you werenât sure.Â
You ran your fingers over her desk as you passed; it was in absolute disarray. Two different astronomy textbooks lay open, covered in highlighter markings and Ellieâs sloping writing in the margins. There were three different cups on the surface in varying levels of full: a mug half full of coffee, still steaming; a glass of water that was completely full, untouched; and a cup filled with murky, grey liquid. A few paintbrushes had been left to sit in that one, and in large writing along the cup was written PAINT DO NOT DRINK. You almost laughed, remembering all the times you had watched your roommate spit water out after she had picked up the wrong cup.Â
It felt strange when you sat gingerly on her bed. You had sat in this spot so many times before, more than you could count. You had spent so much time lounging on this bed, your laptop open in front of you while Ellie worked at her desk - on homework or her latest painting or nothing at all. There were days laid out before you where you both at lain in a crumbled heap, eating takeout on top of the covers because Ellie didn't give a shit about crumbs, an open laptop playing whatever horror movie she wanted to show you (she was always more scared than you, hiding her face in your shoulder). God knows how many truth or dare games you had played in this room, a bottle of alcohol passing between shaking fingers. When Ellie bought it, it was cheap whiskey and you hated it; you drank it anyway.Â
Now, sitting on her bed - carefully, as though you thought it might break - your skin felt aflame, a fire burning in your muscles. When you ran your fingers over the messy sheets, you could only remember how it had felt to have your fingers clutching the ones on your own bed.Â
Ellie sat at her desk across from you, folding herself so that she had one foot propped up on the chair with her, her knee folded to her chest; her other foot tapped anxiously against the floor. She was looking at you, her face strategically neutral, but it was like she was looking through you; her eyes kept shifting away, unable or unwilling to settle on you. Her voice gave nothing away when she said, looking at a spot above your shoulder, âDare.âÂ
You sighed, feeling the questions wanting to claw their way from your throat with nowhere to go. You knew what you wanted her to do - what you wanted to dare her to do - but the words would only cause her to withdraw further. You felt like you had to approach Ellie as if she were a scared animal, ready to flee at the first sight of danger.Â
Wracking your brain for something mild, you said, âTry to recreate one of those dumb popular TikTok dances.âÂ
You didn't miss how Ellie's shoulders relaxed, her hands noticeably unclenching. She looked at you and it was almost like nothing had happened; like she hadnât been avoiding you for three entire weeks, becoming a ghost in your apartment. Like you both hadnât made what had obviously been a drunken mistake.Â
The beginning of a smirk tugged at her lips as she dug in her back pocket for her phone - its case had an astronaut on it, because of course it did. The screen illuminated her face, flashes reflecting minutely in her eyes as she scrolled. She bit her lip absently - she often did when she was thinking. You tried not to stare and failed miserably.Â
âThisâll be easy,â she muttered to herself, half laughing. She scrolled through a few videos, and she had the volume down on her phone, but you could still recognize the song that kept playing on repeat; you were going to fucking die.Â
There were several minutes of quiet, only the music playing from Ellieâs phone. With nothing to do but wait, you brought your legs up onto the bed, tucking them under you; your eyes wandered around the room, taking in the stack of paintings by her desk, both finished and unfinished. The figurine she had of Kassandra from Assassinâs Creed: Odyssey had toppled on her desk, her spear falling in a glob of paint, the tip smudged bright yellow. You investigated the posters she had hung up of her favorite bands - almost all of them with female singers; she had a very specific taste. On her nightstand, in a frame made of macaroni, there was a picture of her and her dad, taken at the zoo when she was quite a bit younger, the blurry image of a giraffe in the background. She was holding up a peace sign, smiling so wide her eyes were practically shut.Â
You turned back when Ellie stood up from her chair, placing her phone on her desk. Shoving her hands in her hair, she said, âCanât promise thisâll be anything amazing, but you get what you paid for.â Even as she said it, she was smirking, a dangerous twinkle in her eye.Â
You watched as she rummaged in her closet, shoving aside probably half a dozen flannels and at least 10 different band t-shirts. She rummaged through a bucket with a few beanies in different colors, and you couldnât see her face, but you already knew she would be wrinkling her nose like she always did when she was getting frustrated.Â
You jumped, startled, when she suddenly exclaimed, pulling her head from her closet and turning to you with a triumphant grin. She held a black belt in her fist, holding it up like a trophy.Â
You shook your head at her, even as your throat closed up with anticipation. âIf it took you that long to find one, itâs no wonder your pants are always hanging from your fucking ass.âÂ
âHey,â she said, picking up her phone again and looking at you with mock offense; she was still smirking. âI donât exactly hear you complaining when my ass is out.âÂ
You heard the stutter, heard the way her breath caught after she said the words. It was so stupid - a stupid little remark that she would have made any other day three weeks ago. She wouldnât have even thought about it, wouldnât have batted an eye. You would have rolled your eyes and said something mean in response - something like, âI save my complaints for when I see your face instead.â You would have laughed and then watched a fucking movie or something.Â
Instead, Ellie only coughed awkwardly, ducking her head to fiddle with her phone. In the dim light, you could see the flush of her cheeks behind her bangs. You looked anywhere but at her, your eyes darting around to find something to focus on that wasnât how pretty she looked when she was flushed pink - how pretty she looked with her cheeks red from alcohol and exertion, her lips shining wetly -Â
Your brain short-circuited when Ellie started the music - only the bite-sized sample that was trending on TikTok. She set her phone on her desk and took a deep breath, waiting for the song to loop again as she positioned the belt by her hips. She didnât look at you, instead casting her eyes to the ceiling and muttering, âThis is gonna be so stupid.âÂ
When the music looped again, you were forced to watch as Ellie thrust her hips to the beat, pulling the belt slowly away from her hips. When she brought it up to wrap the piece of leather around her neck, pulling it taut, you were surely convinced you must be paying for some sort of crime, that this was your eternal torture. Her movements were janky, stuttering and unsure and off-beat - she had only watched the videos for a few minutes and was relying solely on memory to guide her limbs. When she tried to tie her wrists into the belt, she got stuck, her hands ending up in a knotted mess. Still, her eyes met yours when she raised her bound hands above her head - coincidentally or purposefully - and you couldnât look away.Â
This was definitely Hell. It had to be.Â
When the song started to loop again, Ellie hastily tried to pull her hands from the knot. The belt clattered to the floor, abandoned, as she scooped her phone up, fumbling with the buttons to cut off the music. She nearly dropped her phone in her haste.Â
When the room was silent again, Ellie sat back down at her desk. Last time you had played, you had asked her to do something ridiculous for her first dare, and she had grinned with pride, practically preening. Now, she wasn't smiling; she hardly even looked at you, fiddling with one of the many paintbrushes on her desk. You compartmentalized the image of her thrusting her hips with her hands bound over her head, saving it for later. You always did torture yourself with these things.Â
Ellie was looking at that same spot over your shoulder when she said, âTruth or dare?â She sounded pained, her words strained against some invisible weight. It was like your very presence in her room - on her bed - pained her, but you couldnât bring yourself to leave and give her relief.Â
âTruth,â you said, hoping against hope that she would ask you fucking anything about that night three weeks ago.Â
But she had never been that easy. Ellie had never been one to give you straight answers and she wasnât about to start now - especially not now. So instead of saying anything - asking anything - about that night that she seemed keen on forgetting, she asked, âWhatâs the worst first date youâve been on?â Before you could protest that you always told her about your worst dates, she added, âOne I havenât heard before.âÂ
So for the span of one question, you let yourself believe that you were still talking to your best friend. That she hadnât been avoiding you for three fucking weeks and this was only your typical truth or dare game in between studying. You believed that you were simply gossiping with Ellie, who had been your best friend for several years and nothing more. In the space of one question, you let yourself believe that this was still only a game and not an intervention.Â
So, in the spirit of pretend, you thought for a moment, rifling through the index of all the shitty dates youâve been on. Ellie had already heard most of them, had been there whenever you came back home; she was there whether you were heartbroken or relieved that you wouldnât see the person again. There were a few times where you had come home laughing, and she had passed you a joint as you told her all about the horrible date - you would take twice as long to tell the story because you couldnât stop laughing.Â
Finally, you said, âOkay, this was before we came to college. We werenât close enough friends in high school for me to tell you, so I donât think youâve heard this one before. Stop me if Iâm wrong.â She waved her hand for you to continue, twirling a pencil between her fingers. âI had just graduated high school so I was dating around before I left for college - nothing serious, just casually looking around.âÂ
âWindow shopping,â she interrupted you with a grin - that same easy grin she always had with you. Your heart tugged embarrassingly at seeing it again.Â
You swallowed the lump and continued, âYeah. So, I went on a date with this guy - he was some friend of a friendâs, I didnât know much about him. We went out to dinner at some local dive bar - which was already fucking weird because, like I said, I had just graduated high school.âÂ
âWas this guy a fucking cradle robber?â Ellie said, wrinkling her nose.Â
You shook your head. âHe may as well have been. He was either 21 or he was just really good friends with the bartender because as soon as he came in, he got two beers - the cheap shit, too. It tasted like musty ass.â Your stomach twisted when she laughed. âSo we sit at a booth and I finally get a second to really look at him.â You leaned forward, bracing your hand on the bed so you wouldnât fall, and made sure she was looking right at you when you said, âAnd this motherfucker was wearing a shirt that said Black Rifles Matter.âÂ
You reveled in the way Ellieâs jaw dropped, her eyes widening. Her lip turned up in disgust, and the only thing she could say was, âNo.âÂ
You grinned, nodding, and you had to focus really hard to not start laughing. âYes. And I rolled up to this dive bar, fresh out of the womb, with bright pink hair freshly dyed and a crop top that literally said Femme on it in bright pink letters - which, okay, maybe not the choice to wear on a first date with a straight guy, but still. I was in this booth with a baby face looking every bit as queer as I am, and this fucking dude with a patchy mustache and a shirt that has more problems than I care to admit opens up by telling me he doesnât like when girls dye their hair.âÂ
Ellie was rolling her eyes, on the edge of her seat. She leaned closer as you continued, âBut fine, whatever, everybody has preferences I guess. But this guy gets three beers in, and heâs already been talking about weird shit - conspiracy theories and telling me how kids today are too soft - one of those fucking guys, right? But then he stops,â you hold up your hands for emphasis, leaning even closer, âand he leans into me over the table, and he looks me straight in the eye - you wanna know what he said?âÂ
Ellie groaned. âTell me he didnât ask who you voted for or some shit.âÂ
You barked out a laugh; it echoed on the walls. âGod, I wish. No, this bitch looks me dead in the eyes, his breath reeking of bad beer, and he says, âAre you on your period? I have this weird talent for smelling when girls are on their period.ââÂ
You watched, delighted, as Ellie slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling a choked gasp. âNo!âÂ
You couldnât stop laughing, pressing your hand to your stomach as you fell back against the sheets. Her laugh filled the room like helium, making everything feel lighter - easier. Even now, you couldnât help but marvel at how easy it was being around Ellie. And for a moment, you did forget what had happened. You forgot about the string pulled taut between you waiting to snap. You forgot that this was anything more than simply another dumb game of truth or dare.
Until you looked up and saw the press of Ellieâs lips again, the way her eyes darted away, and you could feel yourself sinking again.Â
And thatâs how the hour went. Ellie - infuriating Ellie - did every single dare you asked of her. She did a handstand for a minute straight, her face turning so red you thought she might pass out. She called the local pizza place you often ordered from and asked for one hundred sardine pizzas, laughing when the poor teenage boy on the other line started stuttering. Last time, she didnât take all the liquid in the fridge and make a nauseating cocktail; but this time, she did go and find four different liquids of her choosing - apple juice, almond milk, an old flat Dr. Pepper, and the remaining vinegar in a Kimchi jar - and downed it in front of you. She tried her hardest to hold a straight face, but only ended up scrunching her eyes closed, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle a gag. She never chose truth.Â
For your part, you never chose dare. You answered every pressing, embarrassing question she asked, ignoring the flush to your cheeks. You told her the most absurd dealbreaker for a relationship. (âWhat do you mean youâll break up with someone if they donât like garlic?â Ellie asked, smiling even as she shook her head.â) You went through the original Wiggles band and said which you would fuck, marry, or kill (âThere are four of them! Do I choose to have a threesome?â)Â
And you waited. Each time you chose truth, you held your breath. You watched Ellie mull it over, her eyes darting around as she thought, and prayed that she would just ask you something. You knew it was an unrealistic wish, but you still watched her lips and hoped against hope that she would give you some kind of acknowledgement that this wasnât all for nothing. You just wanted her to stop being such a pussy and fucking talk about what happened.Â
But the clock kept ticking.Â
After about an hour had passed, Ellie looked at her phone and sighed, standing up. âOkay, I really have to get back to studying. I have this dumb astrophysics exam tomorrow and I canât wrap my fucking head around this shit, so I have to -â
âOne more,â you cut her off, standing up from the bed. You followed her as she walked to the door, one step behind her when she put a hand on the doorknob. She paused, her hand frozen there as she looked at you - actually looked at you, not through you. It was only a moment, but it was there; you could feel the way her eyes had branded your skin even after sheâd looked away. Your voice was rushed, breathless when you added, âWe havenât even opened the bottle, so whatâs one more? Just for fun.âÂ
Ellie looked behind you, back at the vodka bottle on her desk with the seal still intact. She sighed, but she never could say no to you.Â
âFine,â she said, and her voice was so quiet in the dark room; the word felt like a secret between you, soft against the tension stretched thin. âOne more.â
You nodded, taking a deep breath. You tried to sound casual - you really did - but when you spoke, you found you couldnât speak any louder than a whisper, afraid to disturb the air around you. You ducked your head, trying to meet her eyes when you said, âTruth or dare, Els?âÂ
She looked at you, meeting your eyes, and she seemed to deflate, sighing out a breath that ruffled your hair - you hadnât realized how close you were. Her breath smelled of canned ravioli and weed; it was almost enough to make you laugh.Â
Ellie took a step back, clearing her throat, and answered for one last time, âDare.â Because she was too afraid of the fucking truth.Â
And fuck it if your heart didnât stutter in your chest. You felt your fingertips buzzing, your stomach twisting nauseatingly. You felt like you were going to be sick, but you forced yourself to look up at her. You squared your shoulders, feeling like you were preparing for fucking battle, and said, the words familiar on your tongue, âKiss me.âÂ
A moment of silence passed, the words suspended between you. They were tangible, and part of you still wanted to snatch them back - to swallow them and leave, to pretend this never happened - but you didnât. You held them out to Ellie - you werenât sure if they were a threat or an offering.Â
Ellie didnât recoil, and you werenât sure if that was more insulting. She looked at you for a long moment before turning away, shaking her head and turning the doorknob. âI really need to study, okay? I donât have time for thi-âÂ
You put your hand against the door, holding it there so she couldnât open it. Your stomach was a mess, tying itself into knots that you would never be able to undo. And you knew - you were far too aware - that this could ruin everything. It could drive her further away, pushing her further into this little cocoon she was hiding in. Ellie might hate you for it.Â
But this was too important to ignore.Â
âKiss me, Ellie,â you said again, and you could feel the bite of it on your own tongue. When you had said it three weeks ago, you had been so unsure. It had been a rush of words on a breath, tinged with alcohol and desperation. The words had been so careless, a sober idea that had made its way from your drunken mouth.Â
Now, Ellie was the one who couldnât look at you. She stared at the spot where your hand pressed to the door, willing you to let go. Her knuckles were white around the doorknob. Her voice was a rumble that you felt in your chest when she said, âI need you to leave. Please.â That last word - please - made your heart break.Â
You swallowed around the lump in your throat and said, âNo.âÂ
Ellie finally turned her whole body towards you, but she was wearing a mask; she had schooled her face into a mockery of nonchalance, her eyebrows raised expectantly as she watched you. She crossed her arms, leaning against her hip, and watched you with measured expectancy, shaking her head. She shrugged and said, âWhat do you want? I really need to study.âÂ
And it was the lack of care that broke you.Â
You slapped your hand against the door in frustration, feeling the sting in your palm, disappointed when Ellie didnât so much as jump. You shook your head at her, and you were so fucking angry you could feel tears stinging at your eyes. You blinked them away and snapped, âWhatâs your fucking problem?âÂ
Ellieâs eyebrows shot up, her mouth opening in indignant shock. âWhatâs my problem?âÂ
âYeah,â you cut her off before she could even continue. âWhatâs your fucking problem? You know what happened - what we did - but ever since that night you have been so determined to act like it never happened. You havenât even talked to me in three fucking week, Ellie!â She closed her eyes when your voice broke on her name. âYouâve hardly looked at me all night. And look,â you sniffled, feeling some of the fire in you die down, âif you regret it - if you want to act like it never happened and go back to how things were before, I get it, okay? But can you at least have the balls to fucking tell me?âÂ
Your voice echoed off the silent walls, filling the space between you until you couldnât breathe. You wiped a hand roughly over your face; your cheeks burned and you hated yourself for it. The room was so quiet you feared Ellie could hear the sound of your racing heart.Â
It felt like hours before Ellie spoke; her voice was so heartbreakingly quiet, tip toeing on eggshells that were already broken. âI donât regret it.âÂ
You huffed out a breath, shaking your head as she still wouldnât meet your eyes. She couldnât even look at you. When you took a step closer, you could feel the heat radiating off of her body, could feel the warmth in your chest. Your voice had lost its fire, your throat cold and raw and broken. You could only murmur, âThen kiss me again, Els. What are you so afraid of?âÂ
âYou,â she snapped. You jumped, taking a step back; your heart lurched when she finally looked at you. Those shattered eyes were watching you, so open and vulnerable you wanted to look away. You forced yourself to watch, to bear witness to it when she shook her head, blinking tears from her eyes. Ellie pressed her lips together, blinking several times before releasing her held breath. She held your gaze like it was a lifeline and said, âIâm scared of you.âÂ
And just for a moment - so filled with silence it might pop - you saw it. You saw how Ellie had run from you like an injured animal, hiding away. You saw the way her hands shook around her biceps. You saw the way she bit her lip to keep it from quivering.Â
You shook your head, feeling so incredibly small underneath those eyes that had avoided you all night; now they were vividly, overwhelmingly focused, broken in the hazy light and so green it was dizzying (and you couldnât even blame it on the alcohol this time). You didnât recognize your own voice, so small and vulnerable that the words themselves ached: âHow can I fix this, Els? You want me to-â You huffed out a heavy breath, choking on your own voice. âDo you want me to act like it didnât happen? Do you want me to leave you alone? Iâll do whatever you want, Ellie, I just⌠fuck. I just want my best friend back. So just⌠tell me what I did wrong.âÂ
You jumped when Ellie barked out a laugh, so dry it cracked. It may have been a trick of the light, the soft string lights making everything feel unreal, but when she looked at you again, she went impossibly soft.Â
âYou,â she said, so softly it ached, âhaven't done anything wrong.â She sighed, leaning back against the wall; it was like all the fight suddenly drained from her, her shoulders sagging against the weight of three weeks. She looked away, her lashes casting shadows over her cheeks, and said, quiet as a confession, âYou were drunk.âÂ
You furrowed your brow, shaking your head. âWhat?âÂ
Ellie ran a hand through her hair, making it even more disheveled. Pathetically, you wanted to fix it; you knew how soft the strands would be under your fingers.Â
âYou were drunk,â she repeated, as though it pained her; as though it explained everything. Her voice broke, the shattered pieces falling at your feet. âAnd IâŚ. Fuck, I shouldnât have pushed you. I shouldnât have⌠forced myself on you.â She heaved in a shaky breath, her words tumbling from her, broken glass cutting her throat, leaving it raw. âI couldnât even⌠wait for you to wake up after. I just fucking ran - I couldnât even look at you, and thatâs even shittier! And for three weeks, Iâve been trying to figure out how to fucking talk to you when I know that we - that I shouldnât have done that.âÂ
Ellie pressed her hand to her mouth, taking in a shaking breath - her entire body was trembling as she fought to hold it all in. She looked ready to burst, struggling to take in a deep breath. You reached out to grab her hand - to hold her together - but she flinched away.Â
âI donât-â you started, unable to find the words. You watched your best friend dissolve, and you couldnât seem to fit all her pieces back together. âEllie�� Els, are you saying youâre avoiding me because - because you thought you took advantage of me.â The words tasted ridiculous on your tongue, a foreign object.
Ellie was shaking her head wildly, her hands balled into fists. âYou were drunk!â she repeated, like a mantra. She pressed a hand to her chest as though to keep everything in. âYou were drunk, and you kept telling me no, and I just⌠pushed. I pushed and I didnât know when to stop and, fuck, I still canât believe I did that and I didnât even have the fucking balls to face you or even tell you Iâm sorry, and-âÂ
âEllie.â You reached out and grabbed her wrist, cutting off her rambling; she flinched again but didnât pull away. She looked up at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable and so impossibly green. âFor one, do I need to remind you we were both drunk. And that I was the one who told you to kiss me?â
She watched you carefully, guarded; her bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss it again more than anything. She took in a deep, shaky breath, ignoring the tears running down her cheeks; they mixed with her freckles like watercolor. âYou kept telling me to stop - to leave it alone. And I didnât listen.âÂ
âEls, I told you to stop because I was scared,â you admitted in a rush. Before she could respond, you continued, âNot of you. I was scared of how badly I wanted you, okay? And thatâs fucking embarrassing to admit, but Iâm saying it so you know it wasnât your fault. I was scared because⌠fuck.â You scrubbed a hand over your face, feeling tears on your own cheeks. âBecause youâre my best friend. And I knew that, as much as I wanted it, it could fuck everything up. But I didnât want you to stop.âÂ
She shook her head. Her voice was raw when she said, âYou couldnât fuck anything up. You didnât do anything wrong.âÂ
âNeither did you,â you practically shouted. âEllie, I asked you to kiss me! Yeah, I had a few shots that night, but I knew what I was doing. You asked me how long Iâve wanted it - what did I say, Els? Tell me.âÂ
Ellie looked up at you, her cheeks splotchy from crying; she let you slip your hand into hers anyway. âA long fucking time.â It was no more than a whisper.Â
âYeah,â you said, gripping her hand to keep her grounded. âNot just when I was drunk. Not just when it was late. And definitely not just when you wanted it too. Iâve wanted you for a long fucking time, Els.âÂ
Ellie watched you, studying you like you were an equation she couldnât figure out (she really needed to study for that astrophysics exam). She pursed her lips, nodding slowly, rubbing roughly at her damp cheeks. âYeah.â Her voice broke again; she cleared her throat. âYeah. Me too.âÂ
You took a step towards her; her body was so warm it was dizzying. You could hear her breath catch when you reached up and pressed your palm to her cheek.Â
âWhat do we do now?âÂ
When she sighed, you could feel it on your lips. You felt the warmth of her hand at your waist, a steady anchor. âLike you said,â she murmured, her gaze soft; she reached up to brush your hair from your face, her fingers grazing the side of your neck. âThis could fuck everything up.âÂ
Your heart lurched; you swallowed it back down so it could throw a fit right next to your twisted stomach. âYeah,â you whispered, afraid to break the spell that made Ellieâs eyes watch the way your lips moved, captivated. âButâŚ.âÂ
âBut,â Ellie repeated, leaning in so her nose brushed against yours; it was cold against your skin.Â
You hardly had to move to kiss her, tilting your chin up to finally kiss that pouty bottom lip you had been staring at. You heard her breath catch again, her fingers pressing at your waist, drawing you closer so the warmth of her pressed against you. After three fucking weeks, you hadnât forgotten how her lips felt against yours. It was just as intoxicating as it had been the first time; you were dizzy with the way she moved her mouth against yours, warmth spreading through your chest.Â
Ellie broke away from you, but she didnât stray far; she pressed her forehead to yours, and you could see that her eyes were still closed, her brow furrowed. She sounded impossibly small when she said, âAre you sure about this? I mean, what-â
âEllie,â you interrupted; you twisted your fingers into her short hair and tugged lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from her lips. âJust shut up for once, okay?âÂ
You hardly even heard her replied Okay before her mouth was on yours again. Last time she had kissed you, you had felt lightheaded, floating with the weight of alcohol in your veins. Each press of her hands on you had felt unreal and distant, like she was touching you in a dream.Â
Tonight, the vodka bottle sat unopened and forgotten on her desk, and Ellie was pressing against you with a sharp realness that made your breath stutter in your throat. When her fingers ran along your jaw, cupping your face and tugging you closer, they were lightning against your skin. She had the welcoming warmth of a bonfire, and you were like a fucking moth drawn to her.Â
Ellie took a hesitant step forward, pressing you back, moving so slowly as though she thought youâd push her away. You let her push you backwards - encouraged her, really, entwining your arms around her neck and tugging her with you. You stumbled on the last few steps, practically falling back against the wall; Ellie braced her hands on either side of you to keep herself up, laughing into your mouth. You wanted to swallow the sound, to take it into your chest where it could curl up right next to your heart.Â
The wall was cold against your back, but Ellie was quick to chase it away; her warm hands ran up your back, rucking up your shirt and scratching her nails lightly over your skin until you shivered. She was so gentle with you this time, running her fingers over your skin with such careful deliberation, as though each kiss and each caress was meticulously planned out.Â
It was with this painstaking consideration that she lifted your shirt, pooling it around your chest; you raised your arms so she could pull it over your head.Â
Ellie snickered, snapping the strap of your bra against your skin. âThis is new.âÂ
âShut the fuck up,â you said, batting her hand away. It was one of your nicer ones, and you couldn't tell her that, embarrassingly, you had worn it on purpose with the hopeless thought of just in case. âSorry Iâm not in my pajamas. Iâll be sure to fix that next time.âÂ
She grinned, ducking her head to press a kiss to your jaw. She hummed against your skin, âNo, I like it.âÂ
You didnât talk about the implication of what you had said - next time. But the way she kissed her way across your jaw, her teeth grazing over your skin and sending a shiver down your spine, promised a next time. As Ellieâs tongue darted out to lick along your pulse, you could feel the words in the breathy sigh that escaped your lips. When she ducked her head to bite at your collar, she branded the words into your skin.Â
âYouâre such an asshole,â she said, her laughter warm against your skin. She pressed a gentle kiss to your collarbone; the bruise had long faded, but the phantom ache was still there. You could feel her smile when your breath hitched. âJust had these on full display. Drove me insane.âÂ
You huffed out a laugh that stuttered when she pressed a kiss at the edge of your bra. âI had to get your attention somehow, didnât I?âÂ
Ellie lifted her head to meet your eyes. Her voice was barely above a whisper, her breath brushing your lips when she said, âYouâre crazy if you think youâve ever not had my attention.âÂ
When she kissed you again, it was with a new fire that burned bright in your chest. Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer so that you could feel her body against every inch of you. Her fingers dipped below the waist of your pants, pressing at the soft skin there. You felt her tongue press against your lips; when she ran it along the room of your mouth, she swallowed your moan.Â
Ellie hummed against your lips, pressing you firmly into the wall and shoving a knee between your legs. You gasped at the sudden friction, heat pooling in your stomach when Ellie gripped your hips and pulled you closer, grinding against her sweatpants-covered leg. Her lips brushed against your ear and she murmured, âTell me to stop and I'll stop.âÂ
She had said those same words last time, pressed drunkenly into your skin. There was an affirmation hidden somewhere underneath: Do you still want me? Before, they had been slurred, like a sloppy kiss against your lips. Now, her hands steady against your hips, her body warm from something other than vodka, it was whispered like a promise.Â
You answered by pressing your hands to her chest; she didnât fight you as you pushed her away, didnât hesitate as you walked her backwards until the back of her knees hit her bed. She let herself fall backwards, but she wrapped her arms around your waist as she did so. You fell into a crumpled heap on top of her, knocking the air from both of your lungs, and you could feel her laughter against your neck.Â
Lifting yourself up on your elbows, you glared down at her; she only answered it with a grin, lifting herself just enough to kiss you briefly. You couldnât suppress your own smile when you said, âYouâre infuriating.âÂ
Her eyes sparkled mischievously. She hooked her fingers in your belt loops and gave them a tug as she said, âYeah, get used to that.âÂ
You kissed her again to hide your smile. You didnât talk about the inclination of that either.Â
Growing impatient, you swung your legs on either side of her, sitting up and straddling her hips. Ellieâs hands ran up your sides, captivated, as though refusing to keep her hands off you for even a moment. You idly ran your fingers over her stomach where her hoodie had risen up, the warm skin right above her sweatpants; you delighted in the way she shivered at your touch.Â
âThis doesnât seem fair,â you hummed, running your hand higher up her abdomen, revealing the expanse of soft skin; if you pressed just a little bit harder, youâd be able to feel the muscles beneath. You smiled when you heard her breath stutter, chest rising just slightly to meet your touch. âYouâre wearing way too many clothes.âÂ
Ellie - ever enthusiastic - wasted no time in sitting up just enough to tug her hoodie over her head, leaving her hair an absolute mess. She tossed it across the room; you thought you heard it knock something over, but you didnât have a chance to look before Ellie was grabbing your hips, digging her fingers into the soft skin. You gasped when she used the leverage to pull your hips down, grinding against her.Â
This time, she was the one not wearing a bra - she had been home studying all day, so you hadnât expected otherwise - and your eyes raked over miles of fair, warm skin. You wanted to run your fingers over it and watch the shiver your touch pulled from her. You wanted to press your lips to every inch of hot skin and feel the way her body arched into you, chasing your tongue.Â
But she was watching you with an intoxicating shade of anticipation in her half-lidded eyes. You realized you had been staring for a few seconds too long because she had that cocky ass grin on her stupid face.Â
âLike what you see?â she teased, pulling your hips down again so you had to bite down a moan.Â
âShut the fuck up,â you mumbled. You couldnât tell her how many times you had imagined what she would look like under your hands or how you had always wondered how far down her freckles went (you couldnât keep yourself from running your fingers down her chest, tracing them like constellations). You couldnât tell her how your eyes had tracked her anytime she walked around the apartment in a sports bra or, sometimes, in only a towel, your imagination running away from you.Â
If you told her, sheâd never let you live it down.
Instead, you let your hands drift across the small swell of her chest, feeling the way her body arched into your fingers. You had to bite back a grin when your thumb brushed over her nipple, feeling her body shudder beneath you. You wanted to record the way her breath caught in her throat to listen to over and over again. Her eyelids fluttered, her lip caught between her teeth; you knelt down to kiss her, hard and deep, smiling into it when you pinched her nipple gently and she moaned against your lips, fingers tightening around your hips.Â
You needed to taste her, you realized. Your mouth watered with it.Â
You bit her bottom lip between your teeth, grinning when you heard her hiss. You took a moment to kiss your way across her jaw and down her neck, open-mouthed kisses pulling sighs from her lips. You couldnât resist sucking the skin into your mouth, feeling the way her pulse jumped under your tongue and loving the moan that rumbled in her throat, her fingers gripping your hips so tightly you were sure you'd have bruises - again. But when you pulled away and saw the red beginnings of a bruise on her pale skin, a thrill ran through you. She would have to walk around with a physical reminder of how you had made her feel.Â
You loved revenge.Â
But you werenât like Ellie, who had taken her sweet time in unraveling you. You didnât have that kind of patience - certainly not now, not tonight. You had spent far too long holding yourself back - too long averting your gaze, never letting your touch linger. You had spent so long schooling your own imagination, trying to ignore the way your heart stuttered whenever Ellie wandered too close. You had spent too many nights letting your mind wander, only feeling safe to let your imagination run when you could hide in the dark; you had spent far too many nights with your hand between your legs and the fleeting image of green eyes and that crooked fucking smile.Â
So no, you didnât have any patience left in you.
When you reached between your bodies and pressed your palm to her sweatpants, you swallowed her moan, drinking it in and feeling like you could survive on it alone. Maybe it would finally satiate your fucking thirst.Â
Kissing your way down her chest, you pressed the words into her skin - âI can't fucking believe you though I didnât want this.â - before pressing the flat of your tongue to her nipple. You could get drunk on the breathy moan that dripped from her lips, the way she arched up into you like her body ached to be closer to yours. She pressed her hips into your palm and you could feel the heat through her sweatpants.Â
When you pulled back just enough to tug at her sweatpants, Ellie started laughing, breathy and hitched as she said, âLittle eager, arenât you?â Even as she said it, she was lifting her hips, pushing hastily at her pants to get them off faster.Â
The fabric was damp when it dropped to the floor, pooling around her ankles. Stepping off the bed, you placed your hands on her knees, pushing them apart. You dropped to your knees and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the skin above her boxers. Her skin was hot under your tongue when you said, âHavenât I waited long enough, Els?âÂ
Ellie only responded with a moan as you sunk your teeth into the soft flesh of her thigh and pressed the heel of your palm to her underwear. You grinned against her skin when she cursed, grinding down into you. You soothed the bite with your tongue and backed away to admire the red beginnings of another bruise.Â
Ellie groaned, twisting her fingers in the sheets when you ground your palm into her. âFuck, Iâve waited long enough too, right?âÂ
You couldnât hold back your grin, tugging at her boxers so she would lift her hips. With her underwear around her ankles, Ellie lifted herself up on her elbows so she could look down at you. Whatever she saw - you on your knees between her legs, lips parted so your hot breath fanned over her - made her groan, another breathy curse falling from her lips. She reached down and carded her fingers through your hair, fingers soft against your temple.Â
You smiled, blinking coyly up at her, and said, âLittle eager, arenât you?â before pressing the flat of your tongue to her clit.Â
The moan that wracked through Ellieâs chest sent warmth spreading through your stomach, an ache pooling between your legs. You raised your eyes to watch her as you licked a slow, painstaking stripe over her slit, watching the way her mouth fell open in a choked gasp. The metallic taste of her on your tongue made your head spin; you moaned when she twisted her fingers in your hair, delicious pain stinging your scalp when she tugged.Â
Ellie gasped your name like it was a promise. âFuck - what the fuck -â Nonsensical words dripped from her lips with abandon, sweet as honey to your ears. When you ducked your head down to press your tongue inside her, a brief, hot pressure, her fingers tightened in your hair, her voice hitching when she cursed again, her words slurring together.Â
You wrapped one arm around her thigh, feeling the muscle trembling as you pressed your fingers into the soft flesh. You ran your other hand up her stomach, feeling the way her breath quickened in the rise and fall of her chest. Stretching further, you flicked your thumb over her nipple and tightened your arm around her thigh when her hips bucked, holding her in place.Â
You wrapped your lips around her clit, sucking it into your mouth and fighting back a smile at the keening whine it pulled from her. Her fist in your hair tugged you closer, guiding you exactly where she wanted you - and how could you resist her when she was chanting your name like a prayer?Â
A shudder wracked through Ellieâs body when you flicked your tongue over her clit, lapping at her like you were starving. (After waiting so long to taste her, you might as well have been.) She groaned when you pinched her nipple between your fingers, her thighs clamping around your ears. Her legs shook when she came, your name on her tongue as though it were the only word she knew. You coaxed her through it, the flat of your tongue licking over her clit until she was gasping for breath, her hips slumping back against the bed.Â
You peppered kisses over her thighs as she came down, your hand brushing across her stomach in soothing circles. Your knees ached from the cold floor, the carpet burning against your skin, but you couldnât convince yourself to move just yet. When you glanced up at her, Ellie was looking down at you with glassy eyes; she had slumped back a little against her elbows, her limbs jelly - you tried not to let that go to your head - but she held out a hand to you, grasping for you. âFuck, come here.âÂ
You both took the time to finally scoot further up the bed, Ellie's head propped on her pillow, her hair a messy halo around her. She pulled you on top of her, bracing her hands on your hips as you straddled one of her legs. When you leaned down, she tilted her chin up to meet you, kissing you lazily, licking into your mouth like she had all the time in the world - like she could kiss you forever and it still wouldn't be enough. With your elbows braced on either side of her head, it felt like you were both in a small bubble, the world left outside to wait for you. Fuck, maybe you did have all the time in the world.Â
You gasped when Ellie raised her leg, pressing it between your thighs with an intoxicating pressure. She used her hands on your hips to push you down, guiding you as you grinded down against her. She broke away from the kiss, taking a moment to just look at you. Her pupils were blown, swallowing the green entirely.Â
She grinned, endearingly lopsided, and murmured, âNow you're wearing too many clothes.â You whined a protest when she took her hands off your hips, but she only reached behind you to fumble with the clasp of your bra. It took her a few tries - you bit back a laugh when she cursed in frustration - and she threw it across the room when she finally got off.Â
âWho the fuck designed those things?â she grumbled, fingers quick on the button on your jeans.Â
You got off of her for only a moment, just long enough to kick your jeans and underwear off, but each second her skin wasn't on yours was agony. Your clothes hadnât even fallen to the floor before Ellie was pulling you back in by the nape of your neck, her other hand guiding your hips back over her leg as she kissed you with a hunger that may as well have devoured you. You hissed when her teeth sunk into your lip, her tongue soothing over it before licking into your mouth.Â
Your breath caught on a broken moan when she pressed her thumb into the dips of your hips, pressing you back to grind against her leg. The feeling of your bare pussy sliding against her thigh made you lightheaded, the dizzying pressure sending sparks through your stomach. Ellie's fingers still on the back of your head twisted in your hair, giving it an experimental tug; you felt her smile against your lips when you whined. You were pliable under her hands, your hips stuttering against her leg.Â
Ellie pulled away, pulling you back by your hair just far enough away for her to look at you; her eyes raked over your body with a hunger that set you nerves on fire, looking ready to devour you.Â
âGod, look at you,â she breathed, raising her leg just slightly, the added pressure making your heart stop. Releasing your hair, her hand ran down your side, sliding across your chest. You moaned when her thumb grazed over your nipple, your hips stuttering; her other hand on your hip tightened, fingers digging into the bone. âSo fucking wet for me and I've hardly even touched you.âÂ
âShit,â you cursed when Ellie bucked her hips, her thigh grinding into you. You tried to glare down at her even though you knew your own traitorous eyes betrayed your growing desperation. Her cocky smile didnât quite land, its impact softened by the way she watched your lips in fascination, her pupils blown - you couldnât see the green anymore. Your voice wasnât nearly as hard as you wanted it to be, your want softening the words: âFuck off, Els, donât be a dick.âÂ
âAm I being a dick?â she asked in mock offense, pouting up at you. âGood things come and all that shit, right?â Ever as she was teasing you, Ellieâs hand crept down your stomach, fingers warm against your hungry skin. She lowered her leg just enough to slide her hand between your thighs. You gasped, feeling lightning in your veins when those calloused fingers slid over your clit, already wet with want. Her eyes darkened, her lips parting. She slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into her, and said, âFuck, look at you. God, I finally get to see you like thisâŚ.âÂ
You struggled to speak past the breathy moans beginning to drip from your lips: âFinally? How - ah - fuck - how long - how long have youâŚ?â You couldnât think of a way to finish that sentence, your thoughts clouding over when Ellie dipped just the tips of her fingers briefly inside you, gathering your wetness.Â
âLike you said,â she murmured, finally pushing two fingers slowly inside you; even as she kept talking, she watched your face carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort, âa long fucking time.âÂ
Your jaw went slack when she curled her fingers, gasping when she found that spot that made you see stars. She paused, as though giving you a moment to adjust, unaware of just how many times you had done this with your own fingers.Â
âShit, Ellie,â you moaned, canting your hips down into her hand. She adjusted her arm, positioning herself so that the heel of her hand pressed to your clit, pulling another breathy moan from your lips. Her other hand was still on your hip; she pushed you back, guiding you to grind on her fingers. âAh - fuck.âÂ
She watched you carefully, fascinated by the way your eyes rolled back in your head, your brow furrowed; you felt her own wetness on your thigh again. Her voice was so fucking breathy when she said, âHow long have you wanted this, baby?â She hummed; releasing your hip, she ran her hand up your side to knead at your tit, her fingers so careful against you. You groaned low in your throat when she flicked her thumb over your nipple. âHow many times have you come thinking of me? Did you imagine my fingers inside you, angel? Did you moan my name?âÂ
You couldnât even think of a snarky response; you were too distracted by the way her fingers curled inside you as you fucked yourself against her. Her rough palm slid deliciously against your clit, grinding into her with a growing desperation that made your thighs shake. Your shoulders ached from holding yourself over her but it was only an afterthought as you felt a tight warmth building in your stomach. You leaned down just enough to kiss her, moaning into her mouth when words failed you.Â
âFuck, look at you,â Ellie repeated, groaning when your hips stuttered. You were lightheaded, fucking yourself desperately on her fingers, grinding down against her palm and chasing that intoxicating warmth spreading inside. âSo fucking pretty for me.âÂ
She kissed you as you came, licking into your mouth and tasting herself on your tongue. You pressed your clit down into the heel of her hand, riding it out, feeling the way that warmth spread down to your fingers. Ellie broke away from the kiss to trail her lips down your neck, leaving wet kisses along your skin and saving every broken moan that was gasped right into her ear.Â
Ellie didnât move as you came down, letting you ride out your high, tracing gentle circles down your side. You slumped against her, your arms giving out; your weight landing on her forced all the air from her lungs. She only laughed breathlessly.Â
It was several long moments before you were able to move again. Ellie ran her fingers through your hair as you gasped into her neck; she hummed absently and you could feel the vibration against your lips.Â
When you were able to, you slowly lifted yourself off of her, wincing slightly at the sudden emptiness. With gentle hands, she guided you back down to lay beside her; you curled up against her without waiting for her invitation, resting a hand on her bare chest so you could feel the steady pounding of her heart.Â
Ellie didnât wait for invitation either before she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer; she was blissfully warm against the suddenly cold air. Something tugged pleasantly at your chest at the realization that you would no longer have to monitor your own movements so carefully - you could touch her, you realized, any time you wanted now. God, how were you going to ever stop now?Â
Without anything else to say, you sighed against her skin: âA long fucking time.âÂ
Ellie hummed, giggling at your delayed answer. The fairy lights on her walls cast the room in a warm glow; with the hazy lights around you, you would almost believe this was a dream if Ellie wasnât so solid and warm beneath your fingers. You traced the freckles across her chest, connecting constellations you had seen her chart before.Â
Her voice was so quiet in the small room when she asked, âWhat do we do now?âÂ
You hummed, feeling sleep winning the war inside you. âWe can figure that out tomorrow,â you said, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. Tilting your head, you leaned up just enough to kiss her, warm and deep and breathless, before moving away to meet her eyes. âJust donât fucking run off again, okay?âÂ
#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x reader#ellie x reader#ellie x fem reader#lesbian smut#ellie x you#ellie the last of us#ellie williams tlou#tlou smut#tlou 2 x reader#sorry for the novel#hope u enjoyed#smash that like button idk
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The Tell-Tale Heart
Spencer Reid x afab!Reader
nsfw, 18+ MDNI !!
a/n: this was heavily inspired by MGGâs narration of The Tell-Tale Heart on spotify ⨠also this is the product of me desperately ignoring my irl problems lmao đ¤
cw: fingering, also this is heavily unedited and english is not my first language lol, oh yea and i didnât write aftercare cuz i just couldnât be bothered tbh
thinking about Spencer fingering you while reading a story out loud for you
he knows how much his reading voice turns you on, teasing you with fluttering touches, before finally sinking his long digits inside your heat
he will drag it out for as long as he can, not letting you come before he finishes the story
youâre sat either on his thigh, or pressed up right next to him, basically glued to his side on the sofa, with your eyes shut tightly, concentrating all your senses on his voice and his nimble fingers moving languidly inside of you
he sometimes increases the pace, to match with what is happening in the book, whispering a few words like innuendos into your ear hotly
he never stops his reading, barely paying any attention to you, his eyes glued to the book in his spare hand. you know that itâs only to rile you up, because he doesnât even need to be looking at the text in the first place with his eidetic memory
you fall apart embarrassingly easily like this, and while he usually loves hearing your noises, at times like this you both relish in the way you try to silence yourself, not wanting to miss a single word escaping from his perfect, kissable lips
you know that he has pavloved you when you immediately tense up as soon as he snaps the book shut, coming around his fingers with a pathetic, high pitched whimper, grabbing onto his arm and hiding your face in his neck
he usually keeps moving his fingers inside of you as you ride out your orgasm, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of your head
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid#criminal minds#cm spencer reid#umm idk any more tags lmao#smash that like reblog subscribe button
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me when the stray dog bungos idk i've never watched bsd
#bsd#bungo stray dogs#bsd dazai#bsd atsushi#bsd fyodor#bsd nikolai#bsd chuuya#bsd sigma#bsd kunikida#bsd mori#skk#kunizai#sigzai#fyozai#bsd tachihara#bsd gin#bsd hirotsu#text post#if you made it this far like comment and smash that subscribe button !!
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#hey guys welcome back to another blitzstone as stupid meme dont forget to smash that like button and subcribe so you never miss a blitzstone#(losing it)#blitzstone#mcga#blitzen mcga#hearthstone mcga#magnus chase and the gods of asgard#magnus chase
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guys Iâm honestly happy that klance didnât become canon because I love how as a collective group of people we utilize our right to explore what could have been and create the most smoking hot scenarios ever and yes I obviously wanted more of their friendship growing into this bond stronger than anything else in the universe especially since Voltron has teamwork and family as one of their main lessons but thatâs more of a development issue all aroundâŚok besides that thereâs something about klance where it provides this PERFECT environment for shippers to inhabit and FEAST upon. With klance, thereâs a solid, engaging dynamic between the two set up, which is this weird one-sided rivalry that stems from Lanceâs insecurity and his need to prove himself of his worth and Keith literally being one of the best pilots for his age but since theyâre flung into space and chosen to become child soldiers in this 10,000 year old intergalactic war so they have to work as a team which surprise surprise forces them to put aside their differences and work as a team which is shown a bunch when Keith needs to become a leader and Lance steps up as his right hand and and they have some kinda tender moments that wonât definitely drive shippers into a shipping craze (or worse) SO YEAH you could see why people loved it with all the classic tropes and mutual growth all that schmooze (ALSO THEY KNEW EACHOTHER BEFORE THE MAIN PLOT??? Well maybe not like friends or even acquaintances probably BUT HELLO?????? EVEN MORE SHIT TO EXPAND ON????), and they share multiple scenes that could be interpreted as romantic but thereâs no explicit romance. This environment is fucking dripping drenched flash flooded cornered by 1000ft tsunamis in all directions with potential for shipping, so when people saw this relationship between two bros with this sort of homoerotic (IM JOKING. Kinda.) unresolved tension towards each other and the POTENTIAL for a good slow burn rivals to friends to lovers, it was to no oneâs surprise that they went APESHIT. Klancers made countless different ways where they get together whether it be pre-Kerberos, post-gettingthefuckoutofearth, the start of the show, the end of the show, after the end of the show, right smack in the middle, anywhere, anytime, for who the fuck knows why just ANY REASON DAMN IT it doesnât really matter because people were pumping out fanfiction or fan art or any fan media of klance faster than I spit out a raw baby carrot after chewing it for one second and now weâre all wallowing about how it should have been KICK but the thing is that if VLD did KICK all the way to Altea, the production of these beautiful stories that so many people have and still are coming up with about klance kissing in midst of a battle, helping each other with their crippling nightmares, smiling for the stars or some other sad premise, and whatever is nestled in his pulseâŚjust like uhhh the amount of fics like these that go into great detail about Keith and Lance in these random situations that end up with them getting together being produced would go down to some degree because of the fact that if the peopleâs beloved sharpshooter and samurai had ended up together like we had wanted, and the majority was satisfied with the ending the creators had given, people would have shifted from writing about âHow could Lance and Keith get together?â to writing about âWhat could Lance and Keith do now that theyâre together?â And like. Thereâs nothing wrong with that honestly I would be HYPED if klance was ever canon but there is profound beauty in the way the community is able to create more from less and turn a show that went to shit in the last few seasons shine even brighter than it did at its prime. Like I wouldnât trade my favorite fics 4 anything.
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Ok another little thing Iâm going to put here: With Klance, all I wanted was for them to be great friends đđđ. I tend to prefer klance becoming canon in later seasons or at the end or even an open ending with no confirmed romantic relationships because I am a sucker for character development and the idea of Keith and Lance both harboring these feelings that at first are just admiration and respect but then escalate to yearning for one another or becoming close friends at the end of the show and getting to imagine anything I want post canon is EVERYTHING if you give me S7 Garrison klance Iâll keel over and thank you like I was a second away from dying of thirst and your gift was a truck load of water
#GOD wtf I keep thinking about that post again and Iâm starting to contemplate my opinion I had on that post#I wish I could rephrase that whole post right neow but I did it like almost a month ago so Itâd be kinda weird đ°#(yes this is the same post I was ranting about in my little silly midnight rant yesterday or noâŚtoday)#voltron#voltron legendary defender#vld#lance mcclain#keith kogane#vld lance#vld keith#klance#laith#scenarios#aloe vera does it again guys#she did the word vomit thing again#đđđ whyâd this take hours for me to write#ok guys I hoped you liked this pls donât forget to hit that like button smash the subscribe button and donât forget to click that bell#for notifications every time I post a new videoâI mean rant about fictional characters#I do this thing where I want to add specific points along the way but I donât and I canât add it now because thereâs no possible way to add#without ruining the flow of my writing do you get it?#maybe I do but then I have to face the fact that the sentence I worked so hard on is completely irrelevant and now I have to delete the#whole thing#đ¤Źđ¤Źđ¤Źđ¤Ź#OH MY YAP#I just realized how much this is (this is now in the morning)
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retired john mactavish whos hard of hearing from service connected injuries and meets selectively mute gary sanderson locally who ends up teaching him sign and they get really close and end up living happily retired in the countryside together
#soaproach#anyway#REAL PROJECTING HOURS#SMASH THAT LIKE BUTTON IF YOU UP PROJECTING ONTO GARY ROACH SANDERSON#gary roach sanderson#captain john soap mactavish#call of duty roach#roach call of duty#roach cod#cod roach#i also like to hc that ghost is deaf and also with them and the three of them just have a beautiful life together#idea tag
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Big fan of all the depictions of Mario that have him as a kindly uncle figure guy. Love that for him
#super mario bros#mario bros#mario#super mario#Like yeah he might also be a famous Hero Of Legend guy whoâs famous throughout the mushroom kingdom#and maybe might also have some âpot smashing cryptidâ style vibes a la that one post about Link#but also. him just being the kind of guy who stops to help you when you break down on the side of the road#/offers to come help take a look at the plumbing or help you fix a button just bc âhe has some timeâ and âitâs just the right thing to doâ#and always seems genuinely (albeit pleasantly) suprised when someone recognizes him#even though heâs saved the world/kingdom many times#I feel like heâd be the kind of person to look at a creepypasta/horror fangame someone made#and be. A little confused but still supportive of the creativity and effort involved#and âglad that theyâre having-a funâ as long as itâs not like actively mean-spirited or anything-#like. âHeâs a little confused but heâs got the spiritâ/âeveryoneâs dad friendâ vibe (despite also being a little chaotic in his own way)#Also bonus points if heâs older but also bonus points if heâs like. barely 30/late 20âs but just Has That Vibe#Like. barely 30âs/late 20âs guy who happens to come off as a middle aged father/uncle
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i never got yhe motivation or anything to post my art on here so hefes an art!!! probably never gonna post anything else in like fifteen years so
#my art#lego monkie kid#porty mk#lmk#monkie kid#make sure to like and subscribe and smash that notification button so you never miss a video
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textless version under cut
#inanimate insanity#ii#ii pickle#ii balloon#ii soap#ii bomb#ii knife#ii microphone#they're playing super smash bros melee!!#inspired by people talking about pickle and his friendships#so this wasn't made to be shippy but i do enjoy metallic salad and i think soap/bomb is cute#i mostly just wanted to draw him gaming with some buddies tho#...can you tell who my fav is (hint: the only one with added accessories aknsdfgksn)#unless you count mic's button i guess#people that can come up with so many little things for their designs are so cool idk how they do it#i think this was my first time drawing pickle. i really like how he turned out he was more fun to draw than i thought he would be#brewing some art
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collage that i made. w lyrics from the last dinner partyâs song the feminine urge!
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fig BIG
you could be a big fig too, oi!
#the way we walk around singing this#you have no idea#fig#sonboys allowed#smash that like button if you got that reference
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honestly i find it helpful when people say shit like "endogenic systems and their supporters dont reblog from me" because like yeah i wont lmao and im gonna block you
hit like and sub
#MAKE SURE TO SMASH THAT LIKE BUTTON AND SUBSCRIBE IF YOU WANT TO SEE MORE EPIC POSTS LIKE THIS ONE#lol.obj#blackout poetry#pro endo#endo safe#endo friendly#anti rq#radqueers fuck off
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i love. my f/o
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#hes sooooo babygirl for real guys trust#liberty kids#libertys kids#george washington#founding father.. more like.... more like founding daddy smash that reblog button if you agree#amrev#american revolution#american history#history
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giggles post-meursault propaganda
[ID: Three photos of Sigma from Bungo Stray Dogs. The first image has two paintings, and the second and third images are both of them by themselves.
The first painting, Sigma is sitting on a bench, resting his chin on the handle of an offset cane and looking off to the left. He's wearing a skin-tight black turtleneck shirt and white pants. His cane is a dark mauve, but because of the colour palette, it's the same colour as his shirt. The lighting is from his back, on the right.
In the second painting, Sigma is standing, leaning on his cane in his right hand (on the left side for viewer), and wearing the same outfit as the first painting. This time, though, his belt is visible. It's thick and black with a large silver buckle. He's looking off to the right and his hand is brought to his mouth, as if he were contemplating something. The lighting is on the left side, so it's also directed at his back. End ID.]
#đ§ââď¸ ignore how the proportions are getting weird#i didn't like any of the pose refs i found online so i had to take them myself đ#also like#there's a 3 week gap between these.#i'm so tired of looking at this piece i'm throwing it to the wolves (tumblr)#[ my art ]#sigma#sigma bsd#bsd sigma#sigma fanart#bungo stray dogs#bsd#bungo stray dogs fanart#bsd fanart#sigma bungo stray dogs#please like and subscribe for more based sigma content đ smash that like button if you would.
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