lia, she/ her ( 19 ) — still unsure with my sexuality.
cis men + minors + blank blogs dni.
this is a personal blog ( sfw + nsfw )
── .✦ ( 🪷 ) just reblogging what i like in here. you can asked and talk to me—i'm nice, i promise. just don't be rude and send ask that are weird to me or you'll get block, please be respectful. i'm a kpop girlgroup lover—girl lover in general to be honest.. let's be friends ♡!
to be more honest i made this side blog only for reblogging fic that i like! i don't usually interact or answering any question on here but feel free to send ask! ( please be respectful. )
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dni. men, minors, homophobe, transphobic, pedo, rapist, sexist, and itzy's haters. you're not welcome here, so please go away!
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makin out with loser!ellie — ⚢♡︎☺︎︎ she’s so adorable
kissing , neck kissing , cursing, dry humping — thigh riding , ellie’s a whole mess , praise (sorta), ellie cums her pants. men dni !!
— !
Her whole body felt warm. She couldn’t tell if it was from your body heat or from how worked up she was. She didn’t even know what to do with herself. She couldn’t be still. Her hands were everywhere as you kissed — messy , needy. Her hands roamed subconsciously. Just up and under your shirt, feeling the skin of your stomach. You’d really just climb onto her straddling her thigh. You’d only really been kissing like this for maybe two minutes. But she was already soaked. Embarrassing really.
She let out little sighs as you cupped her jaw, deepening the kiss. Barely even breathing.
You’d kept on like that for little while, like you couldn’t get enough of each other. It didn’t quite register in Ellie’s head right away, that is until she really felt it. Felt you. She kinda froze for a second— then she heard your little moan against her mouth. Her eyes fluttered open, seeing your hips rut against her thigh.
“H—holy shit.” She whispered. Barely even audible to her own ears. She bit back a groan when she felt your lips on her cheek— to her jaw. Eyes closing again.
Her hands found your hips. Not guiding but just feeling as you moved across her thigh. She could already feel the mess her own boxers. She genuinely felt so out of it— mind cloudy with lust. “God— Ellie you’re so hot.” you whisper, breath heavy against her ear. She lets out a sort of groan, her own hips jutting slightly. A poor attempt to ease the ache between her thighs. She was just flushed pink, cheeks arm — chest falling and rising.
The way you humped yourself against her thigh was almost overwhelming for her. She truly was a mess, hearing you continuously whisper sweet nothings in her ears, calling her hot like you weren’t some goddess on her lap.
She was really trying to be a trooper— not trying to feel as pathetic as she looked. But god, you were just so hot , this wa just so hot. She couldn’t help the little things that slipped from her mouth, little curses. But it’s truly over when your lips connect with that sensitive spot on her neck.
“Fuckfuckfuck”
She curses out as her hips twitch, a flush of sticky wetness filling her boxers. Her eyes squeeze shut as she groan, cheeks all flushed. She felt all overwhelmed and hot. After a quick and embarrassing high, she forced herself to open her eyes and look at you.
robin’s thoughts run wild when she catches a glimpse of your panties in class… (1.4k)
cw: 18+ only — SMUT. i guess you could argue that this is perv!robin bc she’s fantasizing about reader???, fingering, v v brief blood mention. lmk if i missed anything!
a/n: i hope y’all like this!! i’d really like to do a part 2, let me know your thoughts… 👀
There’s a muddied hum in Robin’s ears; the droning voice of the teacher that has melted into nothing but incomprehensible mush. Focusing on Mrs. Click’s ramblings was a near impossible task even under normal circumstances, and the present circumstances were far from that.
See, Robin’s a good student. Maybe easily distractible at times, but she tries her best to stay focused and take her notes and do well. It’s just that today you’re making it really hard to concentrate.
You sit in front of her, diagonally to the right. And she’s always been respectfully appreciative of having such a beautiful girl in such close proximity to her, if even for a 50 minute class-period.
She knows you, but she doesn’t know know you. She knows she’s seen you roaming the halls with Nancy Wheeler, she’s spotted your name on articles in the Hawkins High school paper, but she hasn’t exchanged a single word with you aside from the time you asked her to borrow a pencil. (She had, in her nervousness, given you her only pencil and was left unable to take notes the entire class.)
It would be a lie for her to claim that she wasn’t crushing on you. I mean, how could she not be? There’s no possible way anyone could expect her not to have a crush on someone like you. It’s been pretty tame, however, just little daydreams here and there.
But today. Dear God, today was testing her limits.
The thing is, Robin didn’t mean to look. She really, really didn’t. But it’s kind of hard not to when you’re in a natural line of sight and she already has a reason to look your direction because even the back of your head is pretty.
Today, you’re showing off a little more skin than usual.
It’s a simple fashion mishap. Your jeans rode down a bit too low once you sat in your seat. It happens to everyone, right? It’s just that you’re wearing these underwear, and they’re peeking out above your pants, and it’s like you’re personally taunting her.
They’re black with lace, and holy shit Robin was a goner the instant she noticed them.
Again, she didn’t mean to look. She’s trying really, really hard not to objectify you. But what the hell.
She might as well be drooling, her head propped up by her right hand, her gaze locked on you and that scandalous little garment. Uninterested in the topic at hand, she easily tunes out the teacher’s monologue. Her mind wanders; as much as she’s trying to be good and polite and respectful, her thoughts are turning out to be anything but.
Because it’s so, so fucking easy to imagine herself unbuttoning your jeans. Tugging down the zipper, hands eager to cop a feel. She can picture the way you’d shiver when her nimble fingers cupped your heat over the fabric of those pretty black panties. She can nearly hear the gasp you’d let out when the pad of her index finger teased your hole. Her mouth nearly tingles with the imaginary softness of your lips against hers, the pretty gloss you wear rubbing off on her own smirk.
She’s in too deep, because she’s imagining hooking her fingers through those panties and slowly working them down your thighs; teasing you. Locking eyes with you as she strips your bottom half bare, letting her fingers caress you carefully. The image is so clear in her brain; sliding a digit through your folds, already soaking wet for her. Your eyes flutter closed and your head tips back, exposing the column of your neck to her teeth and tongue. She can feel the warmth of your skin on her tongue as she sucks on a section of it, only pulling away when you’re mewling in a satisfied sort of pain.
You’d make the cutest sounds, there’s no doubt about it, your high-pitched little moans ringing in her ears as she imagines pushing one finger fully inside of you. She’s testing the waters, slowly pumping her index finger in and out, feeling the warmth of your inner walls engulfing it.
And when you start to buck your hips, because you just can’t take it and you need more, she’ll throw her middle finger into the mix, too. Two fingers fucking you, slowly at first then gradually picking up speed and intensity. You let her name fall from your lips, and it makes goosebumps erupt on her skin with how pretty she guesses it sounds in your mouth.
She thinks it would be fun to taunt you a little bit, get you even more riled up.
“What, pretty girl?” she can hear herself asking you after the second moan of her name.
“Feel so good,” is your reply, your voice taking on a breathy quality.
Your body is pliant under her control, arching into her touch and encouraging her actions. She knows she wouldn’t be able to take it, letting her composure slip a little as she fucks you harder with her fingers. Your cunt makes the filthiest sounds, your wetness sloshing and squelching with each pump of her palm against your sex. It only eggs her on; if she had a tail, it would surely be wagging.
She’d start kissing your neck as she fingers you, dipping down to the junction where it meets your shoulder. Maybe she’d bite down, see how you react to it. Maybe she’d let her teeth draw blood, only to lap it up with her tongue.
In real time, you shift in your seat at your desk, and it makes Robin’s whole body feel warm. A tiny bit more of your panties poke out, your ass just centimeters out of view.
In her head, her free hand grabs your ass, squeezing the doughy flesh until you mewl into her mouth.
“Don’t stop, Robin,” you’d cry, muffled by her sloppy kisses to your mouth. Her fingers curl mercilessly inside you, and if your words are anything to go by, you’re getting close to release.
She’d keep up her pace, listening to you moan and whine with each press of her fingers to that sweet spot inside of you. She can feel the ghostly press of your fingertips to her shoulder, nails digging in to brace yourself.
“Are you gonna cum for me, gorgeous girl?” is what she would ask, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge.
“Mhm,” your whimpered response reverberates inside her brain, your bottom lip sucked beneath your teeth in concentration.
She knows it would be earth-shattering, watching you cum. She knows it would be even better feeling it happen, around her fingers.
Her fantasy reaches the perfect peak, your body trembling as your orgasm rips through you. Your walls squeeze her fingers, clenching in an erratic pattern. Your head is tipped toward the ceiling, her name slipping past your lips.
“Robin,” you nearly scream.
It’s the prettiest sound she’s ever heard.
“Robin.”
It’s a plea, a chant, a prayer all in one.
“Robin!” her name comes for the third time, but this time the voice doesn’t sound so much like yours. It sounds like—
“Ms. Buckley, are you paying attention?”
Robin’s head snaps up, her posture straightening, suddenly alert. The fantasy slips out of her brain, the images going cloudy as the classroom comes back into focus.
Mrs. Click stares disapprovingly from the front of the room, tapping a pen against her palm in waiting.
Her face goes crimson, embarrassment flooding her body. She’d been completely laser-focused on you, and she finds herself suddenly taking up faith and praying to every god that no one realized she was staring so hard. Staring so hard at your ass, to be specific.
“Y-yes ma’am. Sorry ma’am,” Robin replies, voice hoarse. Of course she hadn’t been paying attention. She doesn’t have the slightest clue what’s going on.
“As I was saying,” the teacher huffs. “You’ll be partnered with Y/N for the project.”
Robin feels herself nod, even give a weak smile, but she suddenly feels like there’s cotton in her ears. The last thing she thinks she needs right now is to have to work in close proximity to you, on a project she knows nothing about because she was too busy fantasizing about finger-fucking you.
She chances a glance at you, only to be met by your gaze staring right back, over your shoulder. You give her a sweet little smile, fingers waggling in a subtle wave, oblivious to the things you’re doing to her.
softball player robin buckley x cheerleader fem reader
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: all characters are 18+, oral (f receiving), fingering, public sex, thigh riding, secret relationship, allusions to sex, bullying, mean!dom robin, little bit of mean reader, jealous reader
this is a collab with the absolutely brilliant @undead-supernova !! i literally had so much fucking fun writing this with you august, and it might be my favorite robin fic i’ve ever written. i feel like our brains collided and made a gay ass baby and i’m so proud of us. we hope you enjoy xx.
word count: 3.7K
“Shhh, don’t want us getting caught like this do you?”
Robin’s voice is hushed but stern, now lifting her head from between your trembling thighs. The blonde has you spread out on a bench in the dugout, skirt shoved up around your hips as her tongue laps up everything you have to offer.
That is until a broken moan leaves your lips, unable to stop it as her fingers curl up inside you. The sound breaks through the silence, the only thing heard above the soft hum of cicadas.
“What would your little friends think, hmm?” she taunts, brow raised as she looks up at you, dirt still smeared across her cheeks from the game. “Knowing a loser is the one making you feel so good?”
In that moment you can’t find it within yourself to care anymore, gripping her hair in your fist to guide her back between your legs. “Let them.”
Robin hums, her lips drifting lower to nip at the tender skin of your thighs. The action causes another loud whimper to leave you. “You sure about that, honey?”
“I don’t care,” you admit out loud for the first time, thoughts completely overwhelmed with all things Robin.
“Fuck, I don’t care anymore,” you sigh.
Never in your wildest dreams would you think tonight would turn out like this.
You’d been watching her from the sidelines as she attempted to slide into homebase, coming up a little short. You’d never gotten to see her play before, your extracurriculars usually running at the same time. But today had been just your luck, with Chrissy spraining her ankle, immediately being rushed off to get it iced. Coach ended practice shortly after—no use continuing without the star of the squad there, right?
It gave you the perfect opportunity to watch her without raising any suspicion—two of your teammates by your side, laughing as Robin struck out. You took your lower lip between your teeth, trying not to gawk as she rose to her feet. Dusting the dirt off her thighs when she caught your eye, biting back a smirk as she made her way towards the dugout.
But not before stopping by where you were leaning against the bleachers. Right there, in front of everyone for the first time.
See, this has been going on for months. The sneaking around, the feigned rivalry.
If only they knew what was really happening behind closed doors.
You first noticed her late one afternoon, walking to your car after cheer practice. Robin hadn’t even crossed your radar, barely a glance in the hallway. Too wrapped up in your own world to notice. But there was just something about the warm glow of the sunset laying against her flushed cheek. The way she found your eyes, like she knew your secret, before she spit out the shell of a sunflower seed. Chuckling as she grabbed her bat and walked off.
All you knew after that was you desperately wanted to know more. And boy, did you.
You quickly learned through word of mouth that she had been caught hooking up with some girl in the band room after school. That confirmation prompted you to start dropping her little hints. Longing glances when no one was paying attention, nods in the hallway. Sneaking out of practice early just so she’d notice you walk by. And, sure, she noticed.
But Robin wasn’t going to come easy, was she?
No, she wanted to make you work for it. To prove to her you were serious, not just another girl looking to make out with her for the thrill of it. Or some sick joke conjured up by the cheer squad to humiliate her more.
You quickly realized that your subtle hints were not going to get you what you wanted. Her.
One day you’d finally had enough, boldly slipping a note in her locker between classes. Coaxing her to meet you in the secluded alley between the gym and the cafeteria. A place you’d only used to meet a certain super senior when you wanted to buy some weed.
A spot unknown or used by the majority of the students of Hawkins High, knowing you wouldn’t be seen or heard by any curious passersby.
Part of you was worried she wouldn't show, becoming increasingly more nervous as time passed. Any lingering qualms were squashed when you saw her striding down the narrow path towards you. She looked good, her dark jeans hugging her hips just right. A button-up shirt tucked loosely into them, the top few buttons left open.
You wanted nothing more than to lean forward, closing the short distance between your bodies. Leave a trail of blues and purples along her exposed skin. And that terrified you, to know that one girl could mess you up in such a monumental way.
“So,” you mumbled, kicking a pebble with the tip of your sneaker.
“So,” she answered, crossing her arms over her chest.
Without hesitation, you introduced yourself but Robin gave you a confused look.
“Yeah, I already know who you are.”
“You do?”
“Well, we’ve gone to school together our whole lives…” she paused, running a hand through her hair, “and when a girl is practically eye-fucking you in the halls, it’s hard not to notice.”
“Oh, right,” you replied, looking down. Embarrassment washed over you. “Sorry, I guess I misinterpreted this whole thing.”
You carefully pushed off the wall, ready to walk away and pretend like this whole thing never happened. Save yourself the humiliation.
But her soft voice stopped you in your tracks.
“I wouldn't say that.”
“Then what would you say?” you asked, more confident now.
“You’re the one who asked me here,” Robin pointed out, turning the focus back to you.
And just as quickly as your confidence had risen, it fell. So you looked down again, now fiddling with the hem of your skirt.
“I don’t, um,” you struggled. “I don’t really know how to say it. I just…I…”
“Oh, just spit it out already.”
You looked up at her exasperated expression, narrowing your eyes. “Fine! Fine. Whatever. I like you, okay?”
“Like me? We’ve never spoken.”
“Don’t give me that when I’ve seen the way you look at me too.”
Robin’s hardened expression fell. “Touché.”
Silence fell between you, Robin lifting her head to look at the sky. You couldn’t help but squirm again, feeling a desperate urge to breathe in her scent.
You sighed. “So, what do we do now?”
“Hell if I know,” she replied, looking back at you. “I thought you were stuck up like the rest of your prissy friends.”
“Not when I’m around you,” you admitted, barely above a whisper. “You make me feel…different, somehow.”
“I could make it much worse for you, you know,” Robin replied, a smug grin reaching her lips as she stepped closer to you. “All you have to do is ask.”
“Please—”
“Actually, no,” Robin interrupted, fingers inching towards your hip. “You should beg.”
“Please,” you said without hesitation. “Please, Robin. I need you.”
Robin knew she shouldn’t. And so did you. But there was just something there, pressing against your chests as Robin pressed you against the brick. And when she kissed you the first time, you nearly whined in contentment, mewling softly against her mouth.
That kiss left you feeling desperate, eager for her to show you more. However, Robin wasn’t going to chase you, forcing you to take matters into your own hands. You sought her out one night after practice, pulling her into the equipment room outside the gym. Backing her body against the door, lips meeting once you heard the lock click into place.
“Just couldn’t stay away now, could you, baby?” she mumbled against your mouth, pulling a soft whine from you as she nipped at your lower lip. The noise caused her to laugh softly.
“I want you, Robs.”
She hummed in response, letting her lips trail across your jaw. “Want me how?” she prodded as the tip of her nose skimmed along your collarbone, rendering you utterly speechless.
“Show me,” she breathed, further stealing the breath from your lungs as she kissed you deeply. Taking control as she flipped your positions, enclosing you against the door.
You’re pliable under her soft touch, guiding her fingers up and underneath your pleated skirt. The blue of her irises nearly swallowed whole by her pupils as she gazed at you hungrily. That look ignited something within you, feeling emboldened as you reached forward to undo her pants. Exploring each other in a way that was unfamiliar to you, her skilled fingers helping to guide you with ease.
After that, it was just your little secret, with no one being the wiser. Why would they? You were on the opposite ends of the food chain, fractured by the Hawkins High hierarchy. Leaving little glances across the cafeteria, brushes of your fingertips in the hallway as a secret reminder of what you two had. It didn’t hurt that you could sit in class, practice, or even the shower and think about how they’d brush against your breasts later.
Of course, you couldn’t help but wind her up whenever you could be overheard. As she would gladly put you in your place in private.
But you knew as she approached you on the field with that familiar glint in her eye— you were really in for it this time.
“What’s so funny?” Robin asked, removing her gloves. You let your eyes linger on her fingers for a moment as she gripped the leather. Quickly shifting your gaze elsewhere as you pressed your thighs together.
Something the blonde didn’t miss. Holding back a smug smile as she looked between the three of you.
“You’re just such a loser,” Carol snickered, snapping her gum between her teeth.
Heather joined in with a giggle. “Yeah, maybe you should look into joining the t-ball team. Seems like a much better fit for you.”
Heather knew she struck a nerve, pleased with herself as Robin’s jaw clenched in anger.
“Oh, yeah?” Robin said, ready to egg her on. “And what do you know, Holloway? I’d like to see you do something other than shake your ass at Billy Hargrove during games. Don’t you find it pathetic how desperate you are for his attention?”
“Oh, fuck you,” Heather snapped back. “As if you are getting any. No one even knows your name.”
“You’d be surprised,” Robin replied, her eyes shifting towards you as if on instinct. “You know, I don’t recall ever seeing this one with a guy.”
“You better get back to that pitch before you strike out, Buckley,” you bit back, shooting her a warning look. “Again.”
With a shake of her head, Robin glanced behind you at your “friends” before scoffing and turning. But not before she took her cleat and scuffed up dirt onto your shiny white sneakers.
“Oops.” She laughed, giving you one last look before walking away.
Not missing a beat, Heather turned to you with a bewildered expression. “You know her name?”
You raised an eyebrow. “It’s on her uniform.”
“Oh— right,” she murmured, the conversation quickly forgotten as they discussed their plans for the night: yet another kegger at the Harrington residence. It was something you definitely weren’t interested in attending.
Though they begged you to join them, you merely shrugged and told them to go without you. They didn’t even blink before heading off, their laughter fading as quickly as it started. But you soon found yourself lost in the chatter of the crowd and the roar of the umpire.
You decided to move up, leaning against the chain-link fence, pom-poms thrown to the dirt as you watched your girl stepping up to bat again. The score had been tied, this being Hawkins High’s last chance to win the game.
As always, Robin found you again. She gave you a wink before you heard the sharp crack of the bat. You gasped along with the crowd at the sight of the ball shooting through the sky and into the parking lot.
You couldn’t help the loud cheer erupting from your lips, clapping along with the crowd as she sprinted through each base with ease. And as she slid into home and was declared safe, her eyes met yours. They followed you as she picked herself up, sweat dripping as she removed her helmet. Shaking her dampened hair out with a wide grin.
There was no longer anything inside you that beckoned you to be malicious. You could feel a swell of pride inside you, wanting nothing more than to show her just how incredible she was. How much you cared about her…and you planned on it.
Her teammates were quick to surround her, lifting her up onto their shoulders as the crowd continued to cheer. Robin was clearly embarrassed by the sudden swarm of attention, her cheeks beautifully flushed as they carried her across the field. Soaking in the glory for a few more moments before they were called to line up, shaking hands with the opposing team.
But as everyone began to clear out, you noticed Beth Wildfire hanging back, laughing near the dugout with Robin. As you moved closer, you could make out the way Beth was checking out Robin’s ass as she bent over to grab her glove.
Robin lifted her head slightly, noticing you making your way over.
“Nice win, Buckley,” Beth said, popping in a piece of gum. “We should go out and celebrate.”
“Oh, yeah?” Robin asked, a devious smile on her lips as she rose. You couldn’t stop the jealousy beginning to surface. “You think we should invite the team?”
She was making you work for it, wasn’t she?
“Actually, I thought maybe you and I could—”
“Hey, Robin,” you said, directly in Beth’s line of sight now.
Beth gave you a look, clearly annoyed by your interruption.
Good.
“Hey,” Robin greeted. “What’s up?”
“You still need that ride?” you asked, clutching your pom poms tighter in your fists.
“I’d almost forgotten,” Robin replied smugly.
“Well, uh,” Beth said, taking a step closer to Robin. “I could always take her home after heading to Benny’s.”
“No, that’s alright,” you said curtly, faking a smile as you also took a step forward. “I think I’ve got it from here.”
You and Beth exchanged glances before her eyes widened, flickering between you and Robin who was only looking at you. Beth said nothing, opting instead to give you both a quick nod. But the clear disappointment on her face brought you more joy than you cared to admit.
“I’ll see you later, then,” she said. “Again, nice win, Buckley.”
Even as she walked away, Robin never broke eye contact. “Thanks, Beth,” she called out, a grin widening on her lips.
“Ready to go, mon chéri? I’m starving.”
Hook, line, and sinker.
And that’s how you ended up here, your legs draped over Robin’s shoulders as her tongue circles over your clit. One hand buried in her hair and the other clutching onto the chain link fence behind you. Her blue hues never leave your face, taking in each and every reaction she pulls from you.
“You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re jealous.” She grins, flicking the tip of her tongue over your swollen clit. Enjoying the way your body twitches with every motion.
“I wasn’t jealous.”
You breathlessly try to deny it, but you both know you’re lying. Once again letting your pride get in the way, prompting Robin to remove her tongue from your center.
“No— Robbie, please,” you whine as she pulls away fully, resting her cheek against your inner thigh as she continues to slowly thrust her fingers inside you.
She revels in the way your walls grip tightly around the digits, almost as if you’re trying to keep them trapped inside. And as much as she loves feeling you, she loves making you beg even more.
So she slips her fingers out of your dripping cunt completely. Standing up to hover over you as she brings them to your lips.
“Please what, princess?” she taunts, her fingers now slipping into your mouth. Your tongue eagerly swirling around the digits until they’re devoid of any trace of you.
Robin removes them just as fast, trailing the saliva-coated digits down your jaw until they wrap around the base of your throat. “Answer me,” her harsh tone only further dampening the area between your thighs.
“Please don’t stop,” you plead without hesitation, rocking your hips up against her thigh. A look of desperation flitting across your features as you clutch onto her shoulders.
“Aww, you wanna cum, pretty thing?” Her tone is laced with condescension, finding yourself nodding almost frantically as you gaze up at her.
“I don’t know, baby… you were pretty mean earlier.” She paused, a small pout forming on your lips as she traced over them with her thumb. “You think you deserve it?”
You nod as if on instinct, whining as she pulls away from you completely. Rising to her feet once again, grabbing your hands and pulling you up off the bench. Your breasts press together as she whispers softly in your ear, “Prove it to me, then.”
You eagerly reach for the buttons on her uniform, tugging the zipper down. Impatiently yanking her pants down over the curve of her ass as you take back control.
“Sit,” you demand, resting your hands on her shoulders. Coaxing her to take your previous position on the worn bench.
“So bossy,” she teases, gripping your hips as you swing your leg over her thigh.
Taking a seat as you slip your fingers past the elastic of her underwear, moaning at the wetness you find there.
“This all for me?” you muse, your thumb brushing over her bundle of nerves with ease now. Having become quite familiar with every inch of her body over the last three months.
“I mean… Beth was looking good tonight—”
You cut her off with your mouth before she has a chance to finish her sentence. That surge of jealousy coursing through your veins as you kiss her deeply.
“She can’t have you,” you mumble against her mouth, before taking her lower lip between your teeth and tugging. “You're all mine.”
Robin curses softly as you begin to grind your hips against her thigh, slipping two fingers into her awaiting heat. Pumping them in tandem with each rock of your hips, as she mewls against your mouth.
“Please.” Now she's the one doing the begging, despite your hips continuing to grind down against her thigh. The mixture of her saliva and your juices making a mess on her bare skin.
You giggle softly as you increase the pressure on her clit with your thumb, burying your fingers deeper inside her. “Say it again.” She moans as you attach your lips to the base of her throat.
The blonde tilts her head back to expose more of her neck as you greedily suck on her flushed skin. A feeling of pride washes over you as you leave blotches of red and purple in your wake.
“You’re mine, Robin.” Your tone is overly possessive, enjoying how her body trembles beneath you. Your words being the thing to finally send her over the edge as she pulls your face back up to crash her lips against yours.
Her fingers dig harshly into the skin of your hips, encouraging you to keep grinding on her thigh. Lifting her leg to increase the pressure on your core. “That’s it… such a good girl.”
She pulls back slightly to watch you with hooded eyes, lips lifting in a genuine smile.
“My good girl.”
Her words elicit a bigger response than either of you expected, your thighs tightening around her own as you loudly cry out her name. Her hands continue to guide you along her thigh, working you through each wave of euphoria that crashes over you.
You’re both panting as you begin to come down from your highs, nuzzling your face in the crook of her neck. “Wow,” you breathe out, lightly tracing over the darkening love bites on her neck.
“Jeez, I think the whole town heard you,” Robin teases, running her fingers along your back.
“Well,” you start, pulling back to look at her. “I’m just trying to congratulate my girl on her big win.”
“Your girl?” she teases.
You bite your lip, trying to hide your smile. “Mhm.”
“Admit it,” Robin says, lifting her eyebrows, eyes tracing the lines of your face. “You were jealous.”
“Maybe I was,” you finally admit, earning an amused smile from her. “But I don’t think I have to worry about anyone else.”
“No?”
“Mm-mm.”
You press a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth before standing, helping her to her feet. Leaning back against the fence as she wiggles her pants back up over her hips.
Robin is still fastening the buttons as you walk out onto the field. Her eyes follow your figure as you reach the pitcher's mound. A fond look falls over her features as your eyes flutter shut, letting the last glow of the setting sun soak into your pores.
Feeling the weight of her stare, you turn back around. Flashing her a beaming smile as she finally reaches you on the field.
“So… Benny’s?” you ask, twisting your skirt back into place. “I’m actually starving now.”
Robin looks at you in utter disbelief as she places her hat back on her head, the brim facing the opposite direction. “Wait, you’re serious? What if someone sees us together?”
You can’t stop the giggle that leaves you, now closing the few feet separating you from her. Cupping her face in between your palms as you press another kiss to her lips.
Right in the middle of the open field.
“I told you,” you say, louder this time. “Let them see us. I don’t give a fuck anymore.”
You slip your hand into hers, lacing your fingers as you begin leading her towards your car. A sight to see, her bat and glove in her unoccupied hand. Your pom-poms in yours.
“You were still an asshole earlier, you know that?” Robin says.
As you share a laugh, you swing your intertwined hands back-and-forth. You’re practically skipping as you pull her along, light-hearted and winded.
“And you ruined my sneakers,” you counter. “Are you gonna clean them for me?”
“Only if you’re good, mon chéri.”
“I think I can manage that,” you reply as you venture further into the twilight. “At least for a little bit.”
i would love more G!P regina george more i loved it, is there anyway you could do omegaverse and she's like in a rut? :))
Rage Induced Rut (18+)
Alpha!Regina George x omega!reader
CW: PIV, unprotected sex, slight degradation with Regina referring to reader as a slut, brief implication that omegas only exist for alpha’s sexual satisfaction, heavy mentions of breeding, Regina hits someone in the face with her lacrosse stick and makes her bleed
A/N: my first omegaverse fic! honestly i prefer just plain g!p to the alpha omega stuff but i think this one is pretty hot and i had a great time writing it. also i’m not super well versed in omegaverse lore so idk the ‘rules’ of ruts or heats or blockers or knots or anything so i kind of just established my own. hopefully it’s still enjoyable!
Regina George was seething with rage.
She knew it was going to be a shitty day when she awoke to a text from you, her sweet, loving, beautiful omega, saying that you wouldn’t be attending school that day because of some stupid dentist appointment. And everything that happened from that point forward only acted as fuel for the burning fire of anger growing hotter within her.
First, before classes had even started, she broke one of her $550 heels by stepping on the very edge of some damned pothole in the parking lot. It just snapped clean off, as if she’d bought it from some sketchy fast fashion website rather than a renowned shoemaker with decades of experience in Italy. And while Regina was usually well prepared for all fashion emergencies, the only thing she had on hand was a pair of flats so painfully last season that for a moment she wondered if it would be better just to go barefoot instead.
Then, mere hours after tragedy struck her poor pair of heels, she made her way to the cafeteria only to discover that they were out of cheese fries and wouldn’t have any for the remainder of the week as their cheese shipment had been delayed. That was a heavy blow, especially after everything she’d been through just that morning, but Regina did her best to follow the advice you always gave her, (stop yelling at underpaid employees for things that aren’t their fault) and resigned herself to eating a salad. She took her seat at her usual table with the other plastics and, while listening to Gretchen drone on and on about some boy who didn’t even like her, made the mistake of slicing a cherry tomato in half. The cheap plastic knife the school had provided was too dull to effectively cut the piece of fruit, instead turning it into some kind of lethal weapon that exploded absolutely everywhere, squirting tomato juice right in Regina’s eye.
After the people at the tables surrounding hers erupted into laughter and she stormed out of the cafeteria angrily, Regina figured that absolutely nothing short of an actual tragedy could possibly make her day any worse. But of course, she was wrong.
In the four short hours between lunch and 3 o’clock, Regina suffered one unfortunate event after another. She tried to buy a bag of pretzels from the vending machine to make up for the meal she’d missed, and the machine just ate her money. She tried to get her things from her locker and her binder fell to the floor, busting open and sending papers flying absolutely everywhere. She tried to take a quiz in calculus and realized she’d left her calculator at home, leaving her to do all the math the old fashioned way and only finish half of the quiz.
Needless to say, by the time the last bell rang, Regina was more than ready to channel all of the anger and aggression she had into lacrosse practice. But of course, as was the theme for the day, that didn’t end up working out in her favor either.
During practice, the team was divided into two groups, with one group acting as themselves and the other acting as the opposition. Regina was part of the first group and, as always, intended to defend her territory fiercely, regardless of the fact that the other group was still technically on the same team as her.
Things were going well until one girl, an obnoxious alpha who Regina already despised due to the multiple attempts she’d made in the past to get into your pants, got all up in her face, shouting stupid bullshit and releasing pheromones to try and intimidate the blonde like some aggressive, chest beating ape.
After the day she’d had, the other alpha’s actions sent Regina into a blinding rage, and she reacted instinctively, striking the girl across the face with her lacrosse stick. She felt satisfied with the way the obnoxious alpha stumbled back, bringing her hand up to her cheek in shock as the tiniest bit of blood trickled down her face. Apparently though, the coach didn’t feel the same satisfaction, and as soon as the whistle blew Regina knew she’d be facing some pretty serious consequences.
Unfortunately, that was the only part of her day that had gone exactly how she was expecting. The coach shouted at Regina in front of everybody for what felt like the longest five minutes of her life before handing down her punishment – one week’s worth of detention and a ban from participating in the next three games.
Regina tried to argue back and explain that the other alpha had it coming, but rather than hearing her out, the coach added on another week’s detention for back talk. That made her blood boil, but she knew that arguing wouldn’t get her anywhere at that point, so she simply grabbed all her stuff and stormed off the field to the locker room.
Once in the privacy of the locker room, Regina threw her backpack on the floor, kicking it across the room angrily while mumbling a few obscenities under her breath. She paced around the room for a few minutes, fists clenched in frustration as she replayed the events of the day over and over in her head. When she walked past one of the full length mirrors on the wall and caught sight of herself, she felt a little embarrassed to see what an absolute mess she looked like.
Her skin was slick with sweat, her face beet red from the anger flowing through her veins. There was a scowl on her face – her eyebrows furrowed and her nostrils flared threateningly. Suddenly, she found herself wishing you were there to comfort her. She may be a big, strong alpha, but sometimes even she needs the comforting touch of her girlfriend after a long, hard day.
Regina rushed over to her backpack, unzipping the front pocket and pulling out her phone to check the time. She smiled for the first time all day as she saw that it was nearly 4 o’clock, meaning that you were home alone thanks to your mom working the night shift.
Butterflies filled her chest at the thought of getting to spend some one on one time with you. She couldn’t wait to crawl into your arms, lay her head on your chest, and listen to your heartbeat as she ranted about the horrible day she had and you listened attentively. She couldn’t wait to –
‘Actually,’ Regina thought to herself, unable to ignore the way all the muscles in her body suddenly clenched as a slow chill crawled up her spine. ‘That’s not what I want to do at all…’
As shocked as she was, the blonde knew what was happening the second the feeling first came over her. She felt like a big ball of stress that was wound up tight, desperate to be touched so she could finally unravel. Her stomach was filled with both adrenaline and sheer need, leaving her unsure if she was gonna puke or tear her shorts off and start humping the nearest solid object. But the most obvious sign of all was the way every ounce of blood in her head rushed downward, filling her cock until it grew to its full potential of 8.5 inches, all the while she felt dizzy from the speed at which she’d obtained the erection.
Regina stumbled forward, having to grip onto the edge of the counter to keep herself upright as her heart pounded in her chest, her dick pulsing in time with every beat. She slowly lifted her head to look at herself in the mirror, a low growl emanating from her throat as she saw just how blown out her pupils were with pure lust. There was no denying it – Regina George was diving headfirst into a rut.
‘Fuck cuddling and talking about my day,’ the alpha thought as she confidently grabbed her things and made towards the exit. ‘I want to pin her to the mattress, throw her legs over my shoulders, and fuck her till her tummy hurts…’
Regina kept the gas pedal practically pressed through the floor on the way over to your house, somehow managing to turn what was roughly a 15 minute trip into one that only took about 8 minutes. She knew that you’d be pissed if you found out she’d been speeding just to get some pussy, but what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you.
She parked haphazardly on the street in front of your house (in a way that was bound to have at least one angry driver tucking an impassioned note underneath the windshield wipers) before making her way up to your front door.
Not bothering to knock and wait for you to come answer, Regina lifted up the corner of the welcome mat and grabbed the spare key she knew was always kept there, hurriedly unlocking the front door and stepping inside.
Closing and locking the door behind her, Regina kicked her shoes off before striding upstairs like she owned the place. She paused right outside your bedroom, taking a second to inhale the sweetness of your scent as it filled her nose. The familiar smell of you made her already achingly hard cock twitch in her shorts, and before she even considered knocking, she had already thrown the door open.
“Y/N…” she practically growled at the mere sight of you, and judging by the way you yelped and nearly jumped out of your skin, it was clear she had startled you. Oops…
“Regina!” You reprimanded squeakily, dropping your phone and sitting straight up in bed. “What are you even doing here?! And have you ever heard of knocking? You can’t just break into somebody’s house whenever you – wait…” You interrupted yourself mid sentence, your nose twitching as you noticed the alpha’s overwhelming scent filling the air. Your face fell in shock as you registered what was happening, your cheeks turning red as you squeezed your thighs together.
“Regina, are you… are you in a rut?”
The blonde let out a rumbling growl in response to your question, nodding her head in confirmation as she strode over to your bed and grabbed your wrists, yanking you up and into her arms. “Very good observational skills, kitten…” she grumbled in a voice that had your knees weak. “What gave it away? Was it my scent? The obvious bulge in my shorts? Or the way your pretty little pussy started dripping the second I walked in the room?”
You gasped loudly, both at the way she tugged you out of bed so effortlessly and at the filthy words falling from her lips. You put your hands on her shoulders as her arms circled possessively around your waist, your head tilting back and to the side instinctively to offer your alpha more room as she began to kiss and nip at your neck. “R-Regina…” you breathed out. It was meant to be reprimanding, but it ended up sounding more like reverence. You swallowed the lump in your throat, tongue darting out subconsciously to wet your suddenly dry lips. “I thought you were on blockers… what happened?”
Regina grumbled at the question, shrugging her shoulders as her teeth brushed against the mate mark on your neck. “I am on blockers. I don’t know what happened… I just got so fucking mad today… I guess it sent me into a rut strong enough to cut through the blockers.”
You scoffed at that explanation, managing to wriggle free from her grip just enough to push her back a few inches. “What? Is that even… is that even possible?”
The scowl on the blonde’s face combined with the dangerous growl that fell from her lips was more than enough to tell you that she did not appreciate the distance you’d put between you both. She moved her hands to your waist, gripping hard, and pulled you flush against her. “I don’t fucking know, Y/N,” she grumbled. “I’m not a god damn doctor. Maybe they just need to up my dosage; I have no idea. The only thing I know is that I need for you to be my good little omega and spread those pretty legs for me. I need to be inside of you, baby. I need to pop this fucking knot inside of you.”
Normally, hearing Regina speak to you like that would’ve had you raging, but something about her biting attitude was driving you wild. She was just so frustrated and pent up. The way she snapped at you, the way she was clutching onto you so tightly her hands were shaking, the way you could feel the outline of her hard cock pressing against you through her shorts… everything about her right now was just proof of how much she needed you.
All of this was turning you on like crazy. And while Regina’s rut wouldn’t be enough to send you into heat, (your blockers actually worked, thank you very much) the slick dribbling out of you and pooling between your thighs was reminiscent of all the times before you got put on blockers when you went into heat and Regina came over and fucked you full over and over and over again.
“You… you want to knot me?” You asked like you couldn’t believe it, your cheeks flushing pink at the idea.
Regina groaned deliciously, hands traveling down from your hips to the curve of your ass, squeezing and groping the way she took pride in knowing only she got to do. “Of fucking course I want to knot you, babydoll,” she murmured. “I’ve got the biggest load saved up for you. I want to pump your tummy full of it…”
You couldn’t help the tiny whimper that slipped out at Regina’s words, your thighs trembling as you squeezed them together where you stood. Your clit was throbbing against the wet fabric of your panties as your alpha felt you up, man handling you the way she only did when she was in a rut. “Gina…” you whined almost pathetically. It was rare that you used that nickname for her, but every time you did it always ended with her fucking your brains out.
Predictably, hearing you call her that name, (the one no one else was ever allowed to call her) got Regina all riled up. Without a word, her hands were cupping the backs of your thighs and she was lifting you up into her arms effortlessly. You gasped in surprise, but your legs instinctively wrapped around her waist as she carried you the few steps over to your bed.
She practically threw you onto your mattress before climbing on top of you, looking much like a predator stalking its prey. A low growl emanated from her throat as she hovered over your body, leaning down to inhale your sweet scent as it practically poured from the gland on your neck. “You’ve got no idea what you’re doing to me, do you, kitten?” She whispered gruffly by your ear. “You’ve got no idea what it feels like to be painfully fucking hard all while having the world’s biggest cock tease as your omega. Do you?”
You let out a shaky gasp as she lowered enough of her weight on top of you to grind her clothed cock against your pubic bone, letting you feel her throbbing solidity. Your hands flew to her biceps, squeezing them so hard your knuckles turned white. “R-Regina…” you said softly. You wanted to give her more, to say something sexy enough to move things along, but your brain was practically short circuiting at the heated affection she was giving you, and a mangled gasp of her name was about all you could manage.
Regina scoffed and then, as if she could read your mind, asked, “Is that all you have to say? Are you just gonna say my name over and over and over again all night long?” There was an air of annoyance in her voice, but you knew that her attitude was all because of her rut. “I haven’t even touched you yet and that pretty little head is already empty. Tell me what you want, baby. Do you want me to knot you? Huh? Is that it?”
“Yes!” You finally clarified, your back arching into Regina’s touch as she kissed and sucked and bit at the skin of your neck. “I-I want you to knot me, Gina…”
The alpha scoffed and rolled her eyes, pulling back to look at you. “Why didn’t you just say that then, omega?” She asked in a chastising tone, pulling your shirt off and tossing it across the room like it was nothing. “Did you expect me to just rip your thighs open, shove myself inside, and fuck you until I’m satisfied? Like I’m some kind of brute?”
When you opened your mouth to deny the accusation, Regina leaned down and sucked an exposed nipple into her mouth, rolling her tongue over it in that slow and gentle way she knew drove you crazy. “A-ah, fuck!” You moaned softly, tangling your fingers in her blonde hair, which was still tied up from lacrosse practice.
Regina released your nipple from her mouth with a satisfying pop, scoffing again with a shake of her head. “Can’t even give me a clear answer, huh? That is what you think of me, isn’t it? You think I’m some feral, horny animal that can’t control herself? Sounds a lot like projection to me, you dirty little slut…”
Silence washed over the room like a tidal wave as you processed what had just come out of your girlfriend’s mouth. Based on her pale complexion and the way her eyes were as wide as saucers, it seemed like Regina was just as surprised at what she’d said as you.
Regina shook her head softly, her mouth falling open and snapping shut a few times as she tried to think of what to say. It was clear that she was anticipating a bad reaction from you; she was expecting you to push her off of you, call her a knothead, and dump her before throwing her out, leaving her with a broken heart, a bruised ego, and the world’s worst case of blue balls.
But you took her by surprise when you reached down between your bodies and cupped her bulge, squeezing rather roughly as you leaned up to press your lips to hers in a bruising kiss. You pulled back a few seconds later to say, “Maybe that is what I think of you. And maybe it is projection. But if you’re gonna call me a dirty slut… you better fucking knot me like one.”
The alpha’s eyes widened, but before she even bothered responding, she sat back on her knees and ripped her own shirt off, throwing it across the room somewhere along with her sports bra she’d torn off with it. She growled lowly, unbuttoning your blue jeans and yanking down the zipper before tugging them all the way down your legs. “You want me to knot you like a slut?” She hissed through gritted teeth, fingers moving to rub your clit over your slick soaked panties. “Then I hope you’re prepared to take every single fucking inch of me.”
Your ability to think of a sexy remark was taken away by the mind numbing feeling of Regina’s skilled fingers rubbing slow circles against your pulsing clit. Even through your panties, the sensation was enough to have your hips jumping for more as a surprised moan fell from your lips. But Regina only allowed you the pleasure for a few seconds before her fingers were cruelly removed in favor of hooking underneath your waistband to pull your soaking wet panties off.
The cool air of your room made you shiver as it hit your exposed cunt, goosebumps appearing all over your body. Rather than easing you open with her fingers or even her tongue like you’d been anticipating, Regina got straight to it and pulled her own shorts off along with her panties, freeing her stiff cock from its confines.
When Regina smirked and climbed on top of you without touching you any further, you got the memo; your alpha was done with the foreplay. She was in a rut and painfully hard because of it. Her cock ached and the only way to relieve all that pressure and pain was for her to put it inside of you and fuck until her knot popped and locked the two of you together. And as her omega, you understood that your role was to spread your legs and take it until she was satisfied.
The blonde leaned down to kiss your neck, sucking and biting at your mate mark. Even though she’d left it nearly six months ago now, she was still obsessed with it. That mark meant you were hers. It was a warning to every single alpha to back off. You were spoken for, and Regina was the only alpha who got to bite your pretty neck and fuck you into the mattress during a rut. And one day, when she puts a ring on your finger and a baby or two in your belly, that mark will just be one of the many ways she’s totally claimed you.
She grabbed her cock, dragging the tip of it up and down through your soaking wet folds, trying to lubricate it as much as possible so it wasn’t as painful for you when she put it in. And then, she kissed your lips slowly and lovingly, conveying all of her affection for you effortlessly as she positioned herself at your entrance and slowly pushed forward.
A pained groan tore from your throat as Regina’s rigid member began to fill you, her sheer size forcing your walls to stretch nearly to their limits just to accommodate her length. It wasn’t like she was fucking you for the first time – you’d done this a million times before, but she was just so intimidatingly big that you never truly got used to her size. You dreaded the idea of taking her knot almost as much as you loved it.
Your back arched upward until your stomach was pressed against hers, one of the many things you always did when adjusting to her size that drove Regina crazy. She growled lustfully, planting both hands on either side of your head as she finally bottomed out inside of you. The rutting alpha in her was screaming to just pin your hips down and plow you until the bed broke; but luckily your sweet, loving girlfriend still resided in her head somewhere, so instead she just kissed your cheek gently.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” She asked in a whisper, practically panting against your skin. “Need me to pull out?”
‘God, please say no…’
You shook your head immediately, almost wincing at the thought of her pulling out so soon after pushing in. “No, no, don’t pull out…” you instructed breathlessly. “God, it’s gonna hurt even worse if you pull out. Just… give me a minute to get used to it, okay? I’m sorry, I know you need to knot me –”
Regina cut you off mid sentence with a loving kiss to your lips. She shook her head as she pulled away, smiling down at you and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Don’t apologize, kitten. It’s okay. I know it hurts at first. Your alpha’s just way too big for you, huh?”
You scoffed, slapping her chest playfully as you realized she absolutely found the way you struggled to take her hot. “Jesus, Gina, you are such a knot head sometimes…”
Your alpha clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, snaking a hand down in between your bodies to tease your swollen clit. “Can you blame me?” She asked, smirking at the way you moaned and squirmed at her touch. “Fucking look at you… of course all I can think about is knotting you. Especially when I’m in a rut.”
“F-fuck… oh God…” you moaned, pussy slowly clenching around Regina’s aching cock as her fingers rubbed slow circles on your clit. “Regina, please…”
The blonde hovering above you snickered at that, though there was no denying the way her hips stuttered at the feeling of your walls squeezing her. “Please what, baby? You’re already stuffed full of me… what more could you possibly want?” Her tone of voice made it clear she was teasing you, though considering how intense her rut was, it didn’t seem likely she’d be able to pull that off for too much longer.
“Please fuck me, Regina!” You snapped desperately, canting your hips up. “Just move your hips, please! I can take it…”
After hearing that, she wouldn’t have been able to tease you any more even if she wanted to, as her hips snapped forward primally, her alpha instincts taking over. One word kept bouncing around her head over and over again – breed, breed, breed. And even though Regina knew you wouldn’t let her, (not yet, at least) that didn’t mean she couldn’t pretend.
“Fuck, good girl…” she growled as she pistoned in and out of you, your slick flying all over your inner thighs with her every thrust. “Are you gonna let your alpha knot this tight little cunt? You gonna let me claim you for real?”
You moaned so loudly your voice cracked, your hands clutching at Regina’s back in a desperate attempt to ground yourself as her thick cock split you open. “Regina, you… guh…” you moaned incomprehensibly, eyes rolling back as the tip of her cock pressed against your cervix. “You already left your mate mark on my neck. H-how oh, fuck… how else do you want to c-claim me?”
A noise that was somewhere between a growl and a laugh rumbled from Regina’s throat as she grabbed your calves and shoved them upwards, getting you into the perfect mating press. “I think you know the answer to that, baby doll…” she groaned, sweat forming on her brow from how hard she was pounding into you. But, just in case you really were oblivious, Regina smirked and pressed her hand down gently on your lower belly – right where your uterus lies beneath.
A surprised, almost scandalized gasp fell from your lips at Regina’s explanation, yet there was no denying the way your pussy fluttered excitedly around her cock at the mere premise. “R-Regina…” you whined, slapping her shoulder weakly. “I’ve told you a million times already that we can’t.”
Your alpha actually snarled at that, even baring her teeth for a split second as she forcefully grabbed your jaw and yanked your gaze up to meet hers. “I know we can’t, kitten. I’m not fucking stupid…” she snapped at you between labored pants. “But there’s no good reason why we can’t at least pretend. I’m your alpha, baby. And you’re my omega. It’s natural for us to want to breed. So do me a favor, okay? Shut that pretty little mouth, and just fucking take it. Let me talk about knocking you up if that’s what I want…”
You moaned loudly from the surprising vulgarity of her words, choking out a wavering ‘okay’ as your core fluttered around her deliciously, allowing you to feel every angry, pulsing vein along her shaft. As taken aback as you were at Regina’s sudden and blatant desire to get you pregnant, (which was probably just the rut talking) you couldn’t deny the effect the idea had on your body. The thought of your alpha filling you up with a knot that actually takes and turns into a baby – her baby – that you’d then carry for nine months all while she dotes on you and waits on you hand and foot had your mind spinning in the most delicious way.
The filthy thoughts swirling in your head combined with Regina’s quick, hard thrusts in and out of your aching core had an orgasm bubbling up in your lower belly within mere seconds. Your mouth dropped open, your hands desperately scratching at the sweat slicked skin of Regina’s bare back as goosebumps covered your body. “R-Regina…” you moaned breathlessly, tongue darting out to wet your dry lips. “I’m g… I’m gonna cum…”
Instinctively, you wiggled one hand between your two bodies, finding your swollen clit and rubbing steady circles on it. Your back arched at the sensation, the whine falling from your lips unmistakeable. You were hurdling towards an orgasm at a breakneck speed.
Regina growled at the sight, her eye twitching with irritation. God, it was sexy to watch you touch yourself, but the blonde’s primal instincts were driving her every move thanks to the intensity of her rut, and everything in her was screaming that she was the only one allowed to touch you. No exceptions were to be made, even for you.
“Absolutely not,” your alpha grumbled firmly, reaching down to pull your hand out from between your bodies before effortlessly overpowering you to pin it above your head. “I am the only person who gets to touch that pretty pussy. I don’t want anyone else touching it, even if it’s just you. Do I make myself clear?”
Reeling from the loss of sensation and the painful disappointment of your impending orgasm slipping away, all you could do was whine pathetically and squirm underneath your girlfriend, pussy fluttering wildly around her throbbing dick as your body chased after the high it had been so close to getting.
“Regina, no, that isn’t fair! I was so close, why would you do that –”
The blonde cut you off mid complaint by gripping your jaw tightly and forcing you to look up and meet her eye. “I said, ‘do I make myself clear?’” She repeated through gritted teeth.
You moaned at the way she forcefully grabbed your face, the action nearly making you cum even without the attention to your clit. “Y-yes!” You cried out, wrapping your legs around Regina’s hips in an instinctive moment of desperation to keep her from pulling out and spilling her seed anywhere else but its rightful place inside you. “I won’t touch myself anymore, Gina, I promise! Just please… I-I’m so fucking close!”
Satisfied with your obedience, your alpha rewarded you by bringing her hand down and rubbing your slippery clit in fast circles. “Good fucking girl,” she grumbled, kissing up the column of your throat as her thrusts turned sloppy.
You could feel the way her knot was catching on your entrance with every movement of her hips, pressing against you just enough to offer the most delicious sting, but not enough to completely slip inside.
Regina was almost animalistic at this point – her sweaty body pinning you to the mattress as she pounded into you hard and deep, growls and groans falling from her lips along with filthy promises to give you a knot that catches, to breed you.
It didn’t take long at all for your girlfriend to work you back up to the brink of an orgasm, and before you knew it, you were violently trembling beneath her once again as you cried out in overwhelming pleasure. “O-oh God, Gina!” You moaned, scratching at her back desperately. You could feel the knot in your lower belly pulling tighter and tighter with every thrust of Regina’s hips, and you knew it wouldn’t take much for it to snap completely. “You’re gonna make me cum!”
Her hand was wrapped around your neck before she could even formulate a response, squeezing tightly enough to make you dizzy. “Fucking do it, then,” she demanded through gritted teeth, her pupils completely blown out with feral lust. “Cum on my dick like a good little omega and I’ll give you a knot so fucking big that we’ll be locked together for days.”
Her filthy words, the ceaseless pounding of her cock, and the way her nimble fingers rubbed your clit furiously had you tumbling over the edge in seconds. Sheer ecstasy exploded from your core, blooming into every square inch of your body as evidenced by the way your toes curled and the hair on the back of your neck stood on end.
“Regina, fuck!” You cried out, a plethora of other indiscernible sounds of pleasure tearing from your throat as you clawed down her back, leaving bright red streaks against her skin.
Your heart pounded against your chest, stomach turning from the mixture of bliss and adrenaline as your cunt milked your girlfriend’s cock in a desperate bid to get her to knot you.
Luckily, you didn’t have to wait for long, as before your own orgasm had even played out completely, Regina came with a deep, guttural growl, her knot finally slipping past your tight entrance and into your waiting pussy. You cried out from both the pain and pleasure of the stretch of her knot, your orgasm lasting for another few seconds as a result.
“Take it, baby,” your alpha grunted, hips canting into yours sloppily as her hot cum slowly spilled from her pulsating knot into your eager cunt. “Take every single fucking drop. I need this knot to take. I need every fucking alpha in that school to know exactly who owns you…”
She pressed her lips to yours in a sloppy kiss, hips jerking a few times before she collapsed on top of you with a satisfied sigh, thoroughly spent. You panted softly, clutching onto her sweaty body as you caught your breath, your body trembling as you came down from your orgasm.
“Regina…” you spoke up after a few peaceful minutes of silence. The blonde hummed tiredly, and you let out a soft sigh before asking, “Did… did something happen at school today? You just seem so… angry. I mean, you’re always angry, but never enough to send you into a rut so strong it breaks through your blockers…”
Regina sighed deeply, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. “What didn’t happen at school today?” She grumbled, a pout on her lips she was thankful you couldn’t see. “Everything that could’ve gone wrong went wrong. It was like the entire universe was out to get me. And someone… someone might’ve ended up getting a lacrosse stick to the face…”
“What?!” You shrieked, grabbing your girlfriend’s shoulders and pushing her off of you to force her to meet your eye. “Regina, tell me you did not hit somebody in the face with your fucking lacrosse stick!”
The blonde just groaned and rolled her eyes. “Would you calm down? The bitch deserved it, okay? It was that same knothead alpha who’s always trying to get into your pants.”
“Oh…” you mumbled before snickering mischievously. “Well, in that case, I’m glad. The bitch did deserve it.”
“You see, this is why I love you,” your alpha laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to yours mate mark. You could practically feel her smirk against your skin as her hand slithered between your bodies to rest on your belly. “But I don’t think we’ll have to worry about her anymore… pretty soon everyone is gonna know that you’re fucking taken. And there won’t be any wondering whose baby this is…”
Scoffing out a laugh, you slapped Regina’s shoulders playfully. “You wish, babe. Your rut might have been strong enough to break through your blockers, but your knot is gonna be completely useless against my birth control.”
A growl fell from Regina’s lips, her cock twitching with renewed interest as you outwardly doubted her abilities as an alpha. “Oh, you don’t think I’m alpha enough to get you pregnant, huh?” She husked out, forcing your thighs open as the heated desire to breed washed over her again. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep stuffing you full until I prove you wrong…”
author's note: hiiii! i got a request for alysa being needy while the reader studies, and was kind of obsessed, so here u go! it's not full on smut but it's like suggestive and definitely explicit, but lmk if u want smut for alysa. if u do just let me know the situation/context for the smut so i can like actually write the oneshot (or headcannons) how you're envisioning it. working on a couple more of your guys requests right now as well! (currently working on a couple bella ones!!) dm or comment to be added to the taglist!
masterlist || wattpad || tiktok
“No, he’s stupid!” You hear Alysa call back downstairs to one of her sisters before bumping open the door with her foot and closing it behind her. You barely even look up when she comes in, too focused on taking notes. “Okay, I’m back,” She says with an exhale, setting her bowl of chips and guac on her nightstand before flopping onto the bed next to you.
Alysa is back in town for a short break in between her Stars on Ice tour, and it’s honestly been a while since the two of you last saw each other, but you have the bar exam coming up, and you need to ace it.
“How long are you going to be studying for?” She asks through a bite of food, peering around your arm to get a better look at your open computer.
“No idea.” You reply absent-mindedly, jotting down a piece of information that seems important.
“So, do I get any attention?”
You sigh, turning around to face her. “This literally determines my future,”
“Okay, that might be a bit dramatic, and I thought I was your future?”
You can’t help but giggle, having to turn away to prevent yourself from getting distracted. “You are.”
A little while goes by, all you hear is her quiet munching in the background, occasionally her phone plays some music as she scrolls through TikTok, until she looks up from her phone, blurting, “You missed me, right? Like physically? Emotionally? Spiritually?”
Turning around, you raise an eyebrow at her. “Yes?”
“So, like love me?”
“I do love you, like a lot,”
She huffs, eyes returning to her phone as you go back to studying. But you’re distracted again minutes later, by the sheets shifting behind you, and then the weight of your girlfriend as she crawls onto your lap, curling up.
“Keep studying, I’m not distracting you,” She insists, resting her head on your chest as she watches you work. Oh, she absolutely is distracting you. But you make no move to push her off.
A little bit later…
“Okay, this one says,” She pulls the flashcard away from her face, squinting her eyes as if she can’t read it. “Sit on my face?” Her pitch goes higher as she pretends to be shocked.
Rolling your eyes, you snatch the cards back. “You’re supposed to be quizzing me on law, not sex positions.”
Giggling, she moves behind you, her chin resting on my shoulder as she watches you review, her food long gone, and her incredibly bored and needy.
Practically moments after, she begins distracting you again, this time with her teeth gently grazing your earlobe, followed by soft kisses down your neck. She leaves slow, deliberate kisses just below your ear, and you can feel her smiling into them as you squirm around, now more distracted than ever. Adding to it, you feel her soft fingers tracing up and down your inner thigh, grabbing and kneading. A heartbeat begins to morph in your belly, warm heat pooling in your panties. Arching your neck, you give her room to suck before you realize what you’re doing and what you’re in the middle of. Reaching behind, you push her away, shooting her a glare.
“Baby, I just wanna reduce stress for you!” She protests, hands in the air.
“The positions you have me in leave my body quite possibly more stressed,” You reply, pressing your lips together against a giggle at her dramatics.
“But like you haven’t touched me in 26 days. I counted.” Sticking out her bottom lip, she whines, fake-pouting dramatically.
“And I will when I’m finished,”
“You could be finished a little faster if I were in control,” She waggles her eyebrows at me, smirking.
Giving her a shove, you just laugh. “Shut up,”
“Fine.” Swinging her feet over the side of her bed, she stands up and “accidentally” lifts your hoodie that she’s wearing, exposing her bare back. Fuck, she’s not wearing anything underneath it.
Mouth practically watering now and highly turned on, you do your best to turn your focus back on your school work, but you know that you’re also well past your breaking point.
“You’re so fucking annoying,” You grumble, standing up to tackle her back on the bed. Faces mere inches from each other and bodies flush, you lie on top of her, your noses brushing. “But you won.”
She’s grinning, her silver smiley piercing glinting in the warm light of her room. “I know.” Reaching up, she captures your lips in her mouth, and you fall into a dance. Slow at first, but it begins to get faster, more heated as she grabs at you, pulling you closer into her.
Your mouths move together, the sound of you pulling apart and going back in pulls heat into your cheeks. You missed her. She tastes like candy and something else, mint maybe? Something a little less familiar surrounds the comfort, but she reassures you like always, flipping you over so she’s on top. You now look up as her hair falls into your face.
A slow, teasing smirk builds as she slots a thigh between your legs, and you gasp, grasping her as she pushes. Just hard enough for- fuck.
But she pulls away as fast as she came, smiling the whole way as she slides off you. “We’re not gonna be horny teenagers about this,”
let me be your lover ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗ ellie williams
ʚɞ after another fight with your date who thinks you're "too much," you go to your best friend Ellie's – this time she comforts you in a different way.
warnings: cheating (reader cheats on her toxic date with ellie). if it's not comfortable for you to read something like that, simply don't
— this is a continuation of these headcanons but you can read it separately
The door creaks open before you even knock twice.
Ellie stands in the doorway, wearing an old hoodie, sleeves rolled up, hair messy as if she’d just gotten out of bed (and she probably had). Her green eyes stare into yours and you swear she can read you. She doesn’t ask what’s happened. Actually, she never has to.
“Get in here,” she mutters, stepping aside so you can slip past her.
Your eyes scan the details of her place as if you've never been here before – a box of vinyl records, a guitar in the corner, some comic book on the bedside table, a box of freshly opened pizza. Familiar. Safe. “I ordered pizza. I'm literally starving but don't feel like cooking anything after four lectures today.”
You drop onto the couch without taking your jacket off. Ellie doesn’t sit right away. She just watches you for a second, arms crossed, then disappears into the kitchen. Comes back with two mismatched mugs – the first one belongs to her, it's her favorite one with the stars, and the second one has become yours, no one drinks from it anymore – it feels like you live here. Saffron. She always makes saffron one when you show up like this.
You wrap your hands around it but don’t drink. “We fought again,” you say, voice cracking on the last word. “Same shit. Different day. I don’t even know why I keep–”
Ellie cuts you off by sitting close, knee knocking yours. “You don’t have to explain.” Her voice is low, steady. “Not to me.”
The silence stretches, thick with everything you’re not saying. Then Ellie reaches over, slow, like she’s giving you time to pull away. She doesn’t. Her fingers find the collar of your jacket, tug it gently until you lean forward enough for her to slide it off your shoulders. She folds it over the armrest without looking away from your face.
“C’mere,” she says and you don’t argue. You never do with her. She pulls you sideways until your head is on her shoulder, your legs curled across her lap. One arm loops around your back; the other hand finds the nape of your neck, thumb pressing slow, firm circles into the knot of muscle there. You let out a sound that’s half-sigh, half-whimper.
“Fuck, you’re tense,” she murmurs. Her breath brushes your temple. “Breathe with me. In… out.” You try, but it's hard. The thoughts seem so heavy that you need time to calm down - even when you're with Ellie, the person you trust the most.
But her hand keeps moving – down your spine now, palm flat, warm through your shirt. She stops at the small of your back and presses, thumbs digging in gentle but insistent, working the ache you’ve been carrying for days.
“Tell me where it hurts,” she says quietly.
“Everywhere.”
A small, rough laugh against your hair. “Specifics, baby.”
The word slips out so easy it startles you both. She doesn’t take it back.
You swallow. “Neck. Shoulders. Here–” You guide her hand lower, to the dip above your tailbone. She follows without hesitation, kneading slow and deep until you melt a little more against her.
She keeps going. Probably minutes pass like that, her hands mapping every place you’re knotted up, thumbs tracing vertebrae, fingers splaying wide across your ribs when your breathing hitches again. At some point she shifts, pulls you fully into her lap so you’re straddling her thighs, face tucked into the crook of her neck. It’s not sexual (not yet) but it’s close enough that every inhale fills with her scent, every exhale ghosts across her pulse.
“You’re shaking,” she whispers.
“I know. Not my fault though.”
Her lips brush your hairline. Barely there. “I’ve got you.”
You don’t know when the crying starts again. It's quiet this time, just tears soaking into the collar of her hoodie. She doesn’t shush you. Just holds tighter, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other rubbing long strokes up and down your spine until the sobs taper into hiccups. “I'm tired of this, Ellie. Tired to feel like I'm a burden. I just want to be loved, like genuinely loved.”
“You are loved. Actually, you can't even imagine how much.”
You shake your head. “Then why is everything like this? Why do I feel complicated like I'm the one who makes people's lives difficult? You know, she said I'm too much. Like, too sensitive and closed off from people. Maybe I am the problem.”
Ellie’s expression tightens the moment the words leave your mouth.
“Hey. No.” Her voice is quiet, but there’s steel in it. Her hand comes up and cups your jaw, thumb brushing away the tear that slipped down your cheek. “Don’t do that. Don’t take someone else’s inability to handle you and turn it into proof that you’re the problem.”
You look away, but she gently guides your face back toward hers.
“Too much?” she repeats, almost incredulous. “You care deeply. You feel deeply. Yeah, sometimes you shut down when things hurt because you’re trying to protect yourself. That doesn’t make you complicated in some broken way.”
When you finally lift your head her eyes are dark, pupils blown, cheeks flushed. She looks at your mouth for one long heartbeat.
“Can I–” she starts, then stops. Swallows. Tries again. “Can I kiss it better?”
It’s so soft, so careful, it cracks something open in your chest.
You nod.
She doesn’t rush. Cups your face with both hands, thumbs wiping the last of the tears, and leans in slow enough you could stop her but you simply don’t.
The first press of her lips is tentative, almost chaste, honestly, just a brush. Then another. When you sigh into it she deepens the kiss – still gentle, but hungrier now. Her tongue traces the seam of your mouth until you open for her. She tastes like coffee and salt and something achingly familiar.
She pulls back just enough to rest her forehead against yours. Breathing hard.
“Still stressed?” she asks, voice wrecked.
You giggle softly. “A little.”
She smirks, but it’s tender. “Then let me fix that too.”
She kisses you again and it's deeper this time. Hands slide under your shirt, palms warm against bare skin, tracing ribs, dipping into the curve of your waist. When she finds the knot in your lower back again she presses hard, rolling her thumbs until you arch and gasp into her mouth.
“Better?” she murmurs against your lips.
You nod, breathless.
She keeps going – kissing down your jaw, your throat, sucking softly at the place where your pulse hammers. Her hands never stop moving: kneading shoulders, stroking sides, slipping under the waistband of your jeans just enough to grip your hips and pull you closer. Every touch is deliberate. Every kiss feels like she’s trying to pour the words she can’t say into your skin.
You end up lying back on the couch, her half on top of you, weight grounding and perfect. She kisses the corner of your mouth, your cheek, the spot under your ear that makes you shiver.
“You don’t have to go back tonight,” she whispers. “Stay.”
“I will. But weren't you hungry?” you asked slyly.
“I think I might have something even more delicious for dinner tonight, darling.”
⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 ellie williams 𓂃 ⋆ obsessed with having you against her.
watch out · masterlist, slight dom!ellie, sub!fem!reader, written solely on tumblr mobile, tribbing, nsfw, semi-proofread, no ai used, ⋆˚࿔ quick fic.
"you have no idea what you do to me," ellie rasped and dragged your leg up around her waist. both of your thighs tangled together, she pushed forward, and then your mouths fell open at the same time when you made contact. a gasp tore out of you, and ellie choked on a moan.
"fuck, you're—god, you're so warm," she whimpered and ground down once. you were already sensitive, and her words and the pressure of her sliding against you was making it worse.
you could feel every twitch of her pussy clenching against yours, and hear every groan she let out when your clits met just right.
"can't take it," you moaned half-heartedly because you really, really didn't want her to stop even though the way she moved was overwhelming.
"yes you can," she groaned and kept going.
"ell—ie! faster," you whined and bucked your hips up into hers. she gasped and choked on air before roughly humping you three times in quick succesion, chasing the feeling.
"r—right there, do that again," she moaned.
and so you did and ellie buckled. her breath hitched, her mouth dropped open, and her eyes squeezed shut like it physically hurt to feel so good.
"losin' it for you. gonna cum, just like this—fuck, just like this—" she rambled deliriously, starting to grind harder.
you couldn't even answer. your nails raked down her bac,. your legs tightened, and everything started shaking. you were right there and ellie knew and was a few grinds away from toppling over the edge herself.
you moved upward on accident, she moaned, and her whole body jolted against yours. her hips stuttered, her breath caught, and then she was crying your name as she ground against you and dragged you to your orgasm with her.
you came together panting into each other's mouths. she collapsed against you after with her chest rising and falling fast. you turned to look at her, your lungs struggling to start breathing correctly again and get over the way she'd just ruined you.
ask: could you maybe do a oneshot of reader taking alysa out on a date when she came back after winning the olympics and reader just needs to show alysa how proud of her they are back home iykyk? doesn’t have to but could be a little freakyyy, like the gold metal stays on or is used for certain things. this is the ask
disclaimer: smut! switch!alysa (but like she's bottoming in this), um idk what else, fluff
author's note: hiiii! i literally love all ur guys' requests like i think you have the best idea. But i got this one recently and really liked it, so here you go! Also i will be posting more alysa x kk fics/hc later as well as grace knox (i got a request for grace knox x sc reader and omg i love) and bella hines. dm or comment to be added to the taglist!
masterlist || wattpad || tiktok
The doors slide open for the hundredth time, and your heart still jumps like it might be her.
Then, finally, it is.
She walks through the doors, her face changing as soon as she sees you. Not the media smile, not the practiced smile, her smile. Her hair is slightly messy from the flight, her headphones hang around her neck, and she’s clad in some sweats, her Team USA jacket half-zipped, but fuck, she looks gorgeous.
Rushing over, she drops her bag at some point, throwing her arms around your shoulders. The hug is anything but cute; it’s tight, it’s desperate, it’s a hug worth weeks of not being able to see each other.
“Hi, baby,” You say, whispering into her hair, not even bothering to pull apart. She giggles as you hop a little, excited to see her. “I missed you so much,”
“I missed you possibly even more,” Her voice comes out muffled because of you pressing into her, but you can hear the smile in her voice; she’s practically radiating.
Your hand slides up her back, rubbing it gently as you slowly pull away just enough to look at her. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes tired. Leaning in again, you press a soft kiss to her mouth, wanting to save something real for the privacy of your shared apartment.
“I’m so proud of you, it actually hurts,” You whisper, looking into her eyes.
Her face turns red as she tucks herself into your neck like she’s not the Olympic champion the country just watched. Like she’s just your girl who hasn’t slept in days and needs to be held.
Picking up the forgotten bag, your hand settles at the small of her back.“Let’s go home.”
Later that night…
The two of you sit on your apartment’s rooftop, and twinkling string lights illuminate the space, the starry night sky above you. When planning her welcome-back dinner, you decided on something a little quieter, assuming she wanted a small breather after the cameras and people constantly following her.
With a blanket spread out beneath you, you admire her, watching as she eats one of her favorite take-out meals. She’s still the same as you remember her from a month before, her skin glowing in the soft lighting, her eyes still scrunching in the corners as she smiles at you.
Already finished with your helping, you sip on the champagne you brought up, making light conversation with Alysa, not wanting to bombard her with too much.
Your eyes drift down for a moment, catching the glint of gold still hanging around her neck. She never took it off.
The ribbon disappears beneath the collar of her shirt, the medal leaning as she leans forward to grab another bite.
You tilt your head slightly.
“You know,” You murmur, reaching forward to touch the cool metal. “Most people would’ve taken this off by now.”
She looks down at it before looking back at you, a small smirk playing on her lips. “What? You don’t like it?”
Your mind is dizzy with possibilities running through your brain, most of them involving her and the gold. Ignoring her last question, you shift on the blanket until you’re sitting closer, knees brushing. “You’re so pretty in gold,” It comes out breathy and almost a mewl.
Alysa pauses mid-bite when your fingers hook lightly under the medal ribbon, lifting it just enough for the cool gold to catch the light.
Her cheeks go pink as I stare at her for far longer than I meant to, her mouth full of food. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Cocking an eyebrow, you tilt your glass toward her. “Can you blame me?”
“A little,”
You huff out a laugh. “Shut up.”
Alysa grins, nudging your knee with hers under the blanket, the heat of her engulfing you. “No, seriously. What?”
Your eyes flick down for a second before meeting hers again. “You’re kinda insane, you know that?”
“Because I ate half the dumplings?”
“No.” You lean back on one hand, letting your gaze drag over her for a second longer than necessary. “Because you’re sitting here like a normal person when you literally just won the Olympics.”
She rolls her eyes, cheeks going a little pink. “Oh my god.”
“What?” you laugh. “I’m serious.”
She shakes her head, trying to hide the smile pulling at her mouth as she sets the container aside. “You’ve said that like ten times tonight.”
“Yeah, well.” You take another sip of champagne. “I’m gonna keep saying it.”
Alysa bumps her shoulder into yours.
“Okay, but you’re being weird about it.”
“Weird?” you repeat.
“Yeah,” she says, glancing at you sideways. “You keep looking at me like you’re about to do something.”
Your eyebrow lifts. “Maybe I am.”
That makes her pause. “Sounds threatening,”
You tug lightly on the ribbon, pulling her just a few inches closer. Your lips graze her ear now, her scent enveloping you. “Been waiting all month to celebrate you properly.”
The confidence she carried seconds ago is gone, replaced by pure need.
Stringing her arms around your neck, she tugs you closer. On her lap now, she runs her hands up and down your thighs, looking up at you, her eyes fixed on your lips as your faces inch closer.
“I missed you,” She breathes, her lips ghosting your mouth with proximity.
A heartbeat forms in your core, warm heat spreading in your belly as she leans in, your mouths finally meeting.
It starts off soft and intimate as you explore each other, becoming accustomed to the feeling of being pressed together again. But gradually, as your hands roam, cold touches under hoodies, it becomes more aggressive, messier.
Alysa starts kneading your ass as you tighten your legs, pressing your core to her abs. Her taste is familiar to you, comforting even in the peak of heat, and you fucking ravish in the way it’s coming back to you. By now, the kiss is rough and desperate as you grip her hair, trying to pull her even closer if that’s possible. But quickly, you're pushed slightly away by your girlfriend, tilting your head back, nipping at your throat now.
Scrambling up, you pull her with you, your mouths locking once again as you lead her through the metal door in the center of the patio.
“Pretty eager there, princess,” She chuckles.
“Shut up,” You reply, molding your bodies together on the steps, halfway down the stairwell.
The lewd sound of your mouths coming together, spit combining, echoes through the dimly lit staircase. The sound alone sends an ache through you, dragging her down the stairs faster.
You slowly make your way to your shared bedroom, and you push her onto the bed and crawl on top after.
“Keep this on,” You say, motioning towards the medal through huffs of breath as you kiss your way down her torso underneath her sweatshirt.
She just nods in response, her eyebrows knit together in pleasure as you get closer and closer to where she needs you most. Her pants already long gone, Alysa pulls her sweatshirt over her head, giving you a full view of her. Finally. The milky expanse of her skin is on display above you, her stomach as smooth and as free of imperfections as you remember it, and her nipples are hard in the cold air. God, she’s perfect.
Your strong hands grip her thighs, her waist, her ribs, and you realize she’s practically quivering, waiting for you to touch her properly. You brush your fingers against her damp panties, and you feel a pull on your hair. Looking up, her eyes are slammed shut, mouth wide open as soft whimpers escape, begging for more. And happily, you give it.
Without even bothering to pull them off, you just push her panties to the side, swiping a finger through her wet folds. A high-pitched moan comes out of her mouth. You dip the tips of two of your fingers into her entrance, watching as her eyes flutter a bit before once again slamming closed. Pushing a little further, you wait for her to get adjusted before you begin pumping.
A steady rhythm slowly builds as she rocks her hips in time with your fingers. The heel of your hand rubs her clit, keeping her purely satisfied. When you slide a third finger in, it causes her to arch off the bed, your name coming pouring from her mouth. “Ohmygod yesyesyesyes,” It isn’t long before the bed is soaked and her heavy breathing comes to a steady decline.
First request! testing the waters with this one hehe hope you enjoy!
Use of yn sorry! i didn't know how else to word it
For @eternalcitadeltotem 's request
The meeting had already gone on too long.
That was the first thing you were aware of—the dull ache behind your eyes that only happened when you’d been sitting in the same chair for hours while people dissected something you had created months ago in a quiet room with a piano and a notebook.
The conference room smelled faintly like coffee and printer ink. There were half-finished drinks on the table, laptops open, papers scattered across the polished wood like everyone had forgotten where they’d started the conversation.
Your producer, Marco, was mid-sentence, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head in the way he always did when he was explaining something technical.
“I’m just saying the arrangement could breathe a little more in the second verse,” he said thoughtfully. “We could pull the drums back and let the vocal carry—”
You nodded slowly, following the thought. “That’s what I was thinking too. The song works best when it feels… simple. Like it’s not trying to prove anything.”
Your label rep was scribbling notes. Someone else was typing something into their laptop. Across the table, your manager, Elise, was half listening and half scrolling through something on her phone.
“Well,” Elise cut in suddenly, “speaking of things not trying to prove anything—did you see the program?”
You frowned slightly, still mentally inside the arrangement Marco was describing.
“What program?” you asked absently.
Elise didn’t answer right away. Instead she leaned forward, placing her phone on the table and sliding it toward you.
“You know,” she said lightly, like she was dropping something small into the conversation. “The Grand Prix of Figure Skating.”
Marco paused mid-thought.
“Figure skating?” he asked.
Elise nodded, still watching you. “Alysa Liu,” she said.
The name floated past your attention like background noise.
“Yeah, that’s nice,” you said vaguely, turning back to Marco. “So if we strip the instrumentation down—”
“She skated to your song.”
That made you pause. Not dramatically. Not like the room stopped spinning. Just enough that your attention flickered for a second before drifting back to Marco again.
“Oh,” you said. “That’s cool.”
You meant it, too. It wasn’t unusual for athletes to use music from popular artists. You’d heard your songs in commercials before, in movie trailers, even once at a baseball game where the sound system distorted the entire chorus beyond recognition. You expected this to be the same thing.
A nice coincidence. Background noise.
Marco was already continuing his point about arrangement choices. “But if the piano carries the emotional shift there—”
Elise sighed quietly. You didn’t notice. Not until her phone slid another inch across the table and stopped directly in front of you. The screen was already playing.
You glanced down without thinking.
Just a quick look.
Just long enough to see a flash of ice, a sweep of movement, a camera angle shifting across the rink. Then the broadcast zoomed in.
And the world sort of… paused.
The camera caught Alysa mid-glide, the music swelling behind her. Your music. But it sounded different here.
Larger.
The arena acoustics gave the piano a deep, echoing quality you’d never heard before, the opening chords stretching across the rink like they belonged there all along.
Alysa’s face filled the frame.
You had seen her before, maybe from some YouTube short in passing. But you had never actually watched her skate. Not like this.
The camera pulled back as she pushed off across the ice, and suddenly the room around you faded into something distant and unimportant.
Your song was about simple things. About choosing joy deliberately, even when the world insisted on turning everything into pressure or expectation. You’d written it late one night after realizing how easy it was to forget that happiness wasn’t supposed to feel like a performance.
You wrote it sitting at your piano in sweatpants with the window open and the city quiet outside.
Now it was filling an arena in Nagoya, Japan.
And Alysa Liu was skating to it like she understood every single word.
Her movement wasn’t dramatic in the way some skating programs were. There wasn’t the heavy theatricality that sometimes turned routines into stories you could barely follow.
Instead there was a lightness to her skating that felt… unforced.
Like she wasn’t trying to convince anyone of anything.
Every edge looked easy, every transition flowing into the next movement without hesitation. When she landed her first jump, she didn’t even pause to check herself. She just continued across the ice, the rhythm of the program carrying her forward.
And she was smiling.
Not the polite smile athletes sometimes gave when they knew the cameras were watching.
A real one.
The kind that crept into the corners of her eyes and stayed there.
You felt something strange in your chest watching it.
Like the meaning of the song had slipped out of your hands and turned into something bigger than what you’d originally written.
On the ice, Alysa spun through the center of the rink, the piano building behind her.
The crowd was quiet in that way audiences get when they realize they’re watching something special.
You barely registered the people in the conference room around you leaning forward to watch your reaction.
You were too busy watching the way Alysa’s movements matched the music.
There was a moment near the end where she slowed, gliding across the ice with her arms open slightly like she was letting the sound of the final verse carry her.
Then the last jump. Clean. Effortless.
When the music ended, Alysa stood there for a second, breathing hard, her face flushed with the kind of joy that looked almost disbelieving.
The arena exploded into applause.
You watched as she laughed softly, covering her mouth for a second like she was trying to process what had just happened.
Then she lowered her hands and soaked it in.
Not in a dramatic way. Just standing there, smiling at the crowd like she had finally found her way back to something she loved. The video ended. The phone screen went dark.
And suddenly you were back in the conference room again.
Marco was staring at you. Elise was trying not to grin. Someone at the far end of the table was openly smirking. You cleared your throat.
“Wow,” you said casually, leaning back in your chair like nothing unusual had just happened. “That was… nice.”
No one said anything.
You adjusted your jacket sleeve and looked toward Elise.
“Well,” you added, forcing a small shrug, “that’s really sweet. We should probably send her some flowers or something. Like a congratulations.”
Marco burst out laughing. Elise covered her mouth, trying and failing to hide her amusement.
“What?” you asked, genuinely confused.
“Oh nothing,” Elise said. “You just looked like you forgot how to breathe for a second.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
You shook your head dismissively and stood up, gathering your notebook.
“Well anyway,” you said briskly, “good for her. That was a beautiful program.”
You headed toward the door before anyone could continue the conversation.
Behind you, Elise’s voice followed.
“Try not to watch it twenty more times tonight.”
You waved a hand over your shoulder.
“As if.”
—
Later that evening, your apartment was quiet. You sat on the couch with your laptop open, the glow of the screen lighting the room softly. You told yourself you were just curious. Just one more watch. You pressed play.
The music began again.
And as Alysa stepped onto the ice, smiling like the whole world had suddenly become lighter, you felt that same strange, quiet pull in your chest.
The way she moved. The ease in her skating.
The freedom in the way she carried herself across the rink, like the pressure that had once pushed her away from the sport had finally disappeared.
When she finished the program, laughing softly as the crowd roared around her, you realized something uncomfortable.
You were completely, hopelessly captivated.
And you hadn’t even met her yet.
---
By the time the Olympic Village in Milan fills with athletes, journalists, and camera crews, Alysa Liu has already gotten used to the noise.
It’s different from the quiet focus of training, where the rink is cold and nearly empty and every sound echoes against the boards. The Olympics are the opposite of that. Everything is louder. Brighter. More crowded. Every hallway seems to have a microphone waiting somewhere, and every conversation is just one step away from turning into a headline.
Most athletes look a little overwhelmed by it.
Alysa doesn’t.
She’s leaning against a wall in the media corridor with her arms loosely crossed, still in her team jacket, her hair pulled back in the casual way she prefers when she’s not on the ice. Around her, reporters move in small groups between interview stations, carrying equipment and whispering last-minute questions to each other.
She looks relaxed enough that it almost feels like she’s just waiting for a friend instead of being in the middle of the largest sporting event on the planet.
Her teammate Amber nudges her with an elbow.
“You’re way too chill,” Amber says under her breath.
Alysa shrugs. “It’s just talking.”
“You say that now,” Amber replies, glancing toward the camera setup ahead of them. “Wait until they start asking weird stuff.”
Alysa tilts her head slightly, watching another athlete finish an interview nearby. “Weird stuff is the fun part.”
Amber snorts. “Of course you’d say that.”
The truth is that Alysa doesn’t mind interviews. At least not the lighter ones. The ones where the reporters are trying to show personality instead of dissecting every technical detail of her programs.
After stepping away from skating for two years and coming back on her own terms, she’s learned something important about the sport: the less seriously she takes the outside pressure, the better she performs.
And right now, despite the cameras and the Olympic banners hanging everywhere, she feels strangely calm.
Her name gets called from across the corridor.
“Alysa!” A production assistant waves her over.
She pushes herself off the wall and walks toward the interview setup with an easy stride, offering a quick nod to Amber as she passes.
“Watch,” she says quietly. “Weird stuff.”
The interviewer waiting for her is a cheerful woman in a bright blue jacket, holding a small tablet where a list of questions is clearly visible. “Alright, Alysa,” the interviewer says with a smile as the camera operator gives a thumbs-up. “We’re doing a quick rapid-fire round. Just for fun.”
Alysa nods. “Okay.”
The red light on the camera flicks on.
“First question,” the interviewer says. “Pasta or pizza?”
Alysa barely pauses. “Pizza.”
“Video games or movies?”
Alysa grins. “Movies.”
More questions follow in the same rhythm. Favorite song. Favorite post-competition meal. Favorite place she’s traveled. None of them take more than a second to answer.
Then the interviewer glances down at the tablet again and smiles slightly, like she already knows this one will get a reaction. “Alright,” she says. “Celebrity crush?”
Alysa doesn’t hesitate. “Y/N,” she says immediately. “One hundred percent.”
The interviewer’s eyebrows lift. “Oh?”
Alysa nods, completely unbothered. “Yeah.”
“Like… the singer?” the interviewer asks, slightly surprised. “The one whose song you’re skating to this season?”
Alysa laughs lightly. “Yeah, yeah. That one.”
The interviewer leans forward a little, clearly entertained now. “You’re serious?”
“Of course,” Alysa replies easily. “She’s incredible. I think she’s really talented. And the song’s amazing.”
“Well,” The interviewer says, clearly leaning into the moment now, “what would you say to her if she’s watching this?”
Alysa tilts her head, thinking for a second.
The truth is she hadn’t expected that question.
But she’s never been someone who hesitates when something funny pops into her head. Never one to shy away from the perfect opportunity to shoot her shot, take chances.
So she shrugs slightly and looks straight at the camera.
“Hey,” she says casually, like she’s talking to a friend instead of a global audience. “Thanks for the flowers.” Alysa grins, continuing without missing a beat. “You should come watch me skate to your song.”
Someone behind the camera makes an exaggerated “ooooh” sound. The interviewer laughs hard.
“Well,” she says, shaking her head. “That’s one way to shoot your shot.”
Alysa laughs too, waving a hand dismissively like it’s not a big deal. “Just saying.”
The camera light turns off. The interviewer lowers the tablet. “That was great,” she says.
Alysa shrugs again, the smile still lingering. “Glad I could help.”
She steps away from the interview area and walks back toward the corridor where Amber is waiting.
Amber is already grinning.
“Oh my god,” she says immediately. “You’re unbelievable.”
“What?”
“You literally just invited your celebrity crush to the Olympics.”
Alysa rolls her eyes. “I didn’t invite her anywhere.”
“I just watched you do it.”
“It was a joke.”
Amber folds her arms, unconvinced. “Sure it was.”
Alysa leans back against the wall again, unconcerned. “Relax,” she says. “She’s not watching Olympic interviews.”
Amber laughs. “You have no idea how the internet works.”
Alysa shrugs. “Even if she did see it, it’s not that serious.” But if she’s being honest, the thought does flicker through her mind for a second.
Because when the flowers arrived back in December after the Grand Prix short program, she had been completely caught off guard.
They were waiting in her hotel room after practice, sitting on the desk with a small handwritten card.
Congratulations on the win. Your program was beautiful. – Y/N
She’d stared at the card for a solid minute before laughing quietly to herself.
Then she immediately took a picture and sent it to her friends.
Look who wants me.
Her group chat exploded. “Oh my god she wants you soooo bad,” one of them replied instantly.
Alysa leaned into the joke. “Obviously.”
In reality, she had kept the card. Tucked carefully into the side pocket of her training bag where it wouldn’t get bent. She tells herself it’s just because it’s a cool story. Nothing more.
Back in the Olympic Village corridor, Amber is still shaking her head, mumbling about regretting the interview, to which Alysa just shrugs.
And honestly, she doesn’t think much about it after that.
Practice is in an hour. Her coach is already texting her about jump layouts. The schedule for the next few days is packed.
The interview disappears into the background noise of Olympic media coverage.
At least for her.
—
Later that evening, somewhere else in the world, you’re sitting in a dim studio lounge with your laptop open on the coffee table in front of you.
Your manager is standing by the window scrolling through her phone.
You’re halfway through a conversation about tour logistics when she suddenly stops talking mid-sentence.
“…wait.”
You glance up. “What?”
She looks at the screen again. “Oh my god.”
You raise an eyebrow. “What happened?”
She turns the phone toward you. “You need to see this.”
You sigh slightly. “If this is another TikTok of some AI dog dancing—”
“Just watch it.”
You lean forward reluctantly. The video begins playing.
And about ten seconds later, when Alysa Liu looks directly into the camera and casually says your name like it’s the most obvious answer in the world—
You stop breathing for a moment.
Your manager slowly lowers the phone and watches your face.
“Well,” she says. “That seems promising.”
And somewhere in Milan, Alysa Liu has absolutely no idea what she just started.
---
By the end of the first day after the interview airs, you already know something has gotten out of hand.
Not catastrophically out of hand, not the kind of scandal that sends publicists scrambling to issue statements or deletes social media posts within the hour. It’s subtler than that. It’s the sort of thing that spreads through the internet in a way that’s half teasing and half conspiratorial, like a rumor people want to believe in because it’s fun.
The first sign is your phone.
Your notifications start climbing before you even realize why. At first it’s just a handful of tags on social media, then a dozen, then hundreds. Clips of Alysa’s interview start appearing everywhere—short snippets of her leaning casually toward the camera and saying your name with complete certainty.
Celebrity crush? Y/N, one hundred percent.
You scroll past the first few posts with a faintly amused expression. The internet has always loved connecting dots that may or may not exist. It’s practically a sport.
But then the tags keep coming. Edits of Alysa’s program set to your song. Side-by-side clips of the Grand Prix performance and the interview.
By the second day, people are writing things like:
“she needs to go to Milan.”
“Imagine if she shows up at the Olympics.”
“This would be the greatest crossover event in history.”
You close the app and tell yourself it will burn out quickly. Internet attention spans are famously short. But the real problem isn’t the internet. It’s the real world.
Two nights later, you’re leaving a quiet dinner in Los Angeles with a couple of friends when the restaurant door opens and a cluster of photographers immediately shifts toward you like birds changing direction mid-flight.
That part isn’t new. Paparazzi have been orbiting your life long enough that you’ve learned to treat them like background noise.
What’s new is the question shouted across the sidewalk as you step toward the waiting car.
“Are you going to Milan!?”
You pause half a second before continuing.
Another voice chimes in. “Are you going to see Alysa Liu at the Olympics?”
You don’t answer. You slide into the car with a polite, neutral smile that doesn’t confirm anything. The door shuts. The car pulls away.
Your friend beside you raises an eyebrow. “That was… specific.”
You stare out the window for a moment. “Yeah,” you say quietly. “Apparently I’m part of Olympic coverage now.”
The next day, it happens again in a completely different setting.
You’re at a small cafe when a young girl and her father approach you. She was a big fan and was just wanting to take a quick photo. Most of the conversation was normal. Music questions. Tour questions. A few shy compliments about your songs.
When you bend down for the photo, you smile warmly at the camera and just as you were about to stand up, she asks something else.
“Are you going to Milan?” she asks immediately.
You blink.
“For the Olympics,” she clarifies quickly. “I’m going with my dad to watch the figure skaters. If you’re there maybe we’ll see you.”
Her expression is so hopeful that for a second you almost laugh. Not because it’s ridiculous. Because it’s… oddly sweet.
“Well,” you say gently, “that sounds like an amazing trip.”
“But are you going?”
You hesitate just long enough to avoid promising anything. “Maybe,” you say with a small smile. “You never know.”
She nods like that’s the best answer she could have gotten.
When she walks away, Elise—your manager—leans closer. “You are not helping,” she murmurs.
You shrug. “I didn’t want to crush her dreams.”
—
By February 13th, five days after the interview aired, the situation has escalated from amusing to mildly ridiculous.
You’re sitting in the studio lounge again, the same one where you first saw the clip of Alysa’s interview.
Your laptop is open on the coffee table in front of you. A half-written melody loops softly through the speakers, something you’ve been tinkering with for hours without really committing to a direction.
Across the room, Elise stands near the desk flipping through a printed schedule.
You stare at the laptop screen for another moment before leaning back with a sigh. “Can we just book me a flight to Milan so this can be done with?”
Elise slowly lowers the papers. “…what?”
You gesture vaguely in the direction of the world.
“This,” you say. “All of this.”
She stares at you like she’s trying to decide if you’re joking. “You realize,” she says slowly, “that if we do that, you’re just fanning the flames.”
You shrug. “Maybe.”
“This will get bigger,” she continues, pacing slightly now. “There will be rumors, speculation, think pieces. People will assume—”
“I know,” you interrupt calmly.
She stops pacing. “And you’re okay with that?”
You lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “Honestly?” you say. “I kind of just want to see the program in person.”
Elise stares. “Are you serious.”
“I mean,” you continue thoughtfully, “I’ve never been to the Olympics before either.”
“That is not the point.”
“And,” you add casually, “it would be good publicity for the tour.”
Elise narrows her eyes. “You’re unbelievable.” She watches you for another moment, her expression slowly shifting from professional concern to something more suspicious. Then she sighs. “You just want to go because you think she’s pretty.”
You gasp, placing a hand dramatically over your chest. “That is an outrageous accusation.”
Elise does not look amused.
You hold the pose for another two seconds before dropping it.
“Okay,” you say. “… maybe she is pretty. So what?!” You tilt your head slightly, offering your most convincing smile. “There’s no such thing as bad publicity.”
She groans loudly, dragging a hand down her face. “That line has ruined more careers than it has helped.”
You grin. “It hasn’t ruined mine.”
Elise stares at the ceiling like she’s asking the universe for patience.
“Please,” you continue, leaning forward slightly now. “I just want to go see it. I got an invite from an Olympian. I can’t just ignore that.”
“She did not personally invite you.”
“She did on camera.”
“That is not the same thing.” You shrug. “Still counts.”
Elise exhales slowly through her nose, clearly weighing the consequences in her head. You watch her carefully. Then she sighs again—louder this time—and tips her head back toward the ceiling. And you know you’ve won. You can’t help the small, satisfied “yay” that escapes under your breath.
Elise immediately points a finger at you without even looking. “Don’t celebrate yet.” But she’s already reaching for her laptop. “I’ll book the flight,” she mutters.
You sit up straighter. “Thank you.”
“I think she skates in… three days,” Elise continues, scrolling through the Olympic schedule. “Which means if you leave tomorrow you’ll get there in time.”
You nod, trying very hard to look normal about this development. “Perfect.”
Elise glances up at you again. “If this turns into a media circus, I’m blaming you.”
“That’s fair.”
She shakes her head and goes back to the booking screen.
You lean back on the couch again, turning toward your laptop.
The unfinished melody still loops softly through the speakers.
You rest your fingers on the keyboard, pretending to focus on the song.
But you can feel the warmth creeping up your neck.
Because somewhere in Milan, Alysa Liu is preparing to skate to your music again.
And in three days, you’ll be sitting in the crowd watching her do it.
———
The way I need a word limit and i dont know anything about figure skating LOOL so im sorry if it sounds weird idk what a grand prix is 😭 bUT ALSO I ACTUALLT GET TO THEM MEETING IN NEXT PART DONT WORRY
pairing: alysa liu x fem! figure skater! reader summary: you both at the olympics and you have crush on alysa (secretly) warnings: fluff | friends to lovers | slow burn (kind of) | jealousy | english not my native language, possibly spelling mistakes gif not mine | pics not mine a/n: happy national women’s day ladies!! library
The Olympic Village was way louder than you expected.
Music blasted somewhere down the hallway, athletes laughed in a dozen languages, and the smell of cafeteria pasta drifted through the air.
You sat cross legged on Alysa’s bed while she paced around the room, still wearing her Team USA jacket.
“Okay but listen” - Alysa said, waving her hands dramatically - “I swear the medal feels heavier every time I pick it up.”
You snorted. - “That’s because you keep showing it to literally everyone.”
She turned and pointed the medal at you like evidence. - “Excuse me. If you won Olympic gold you’d do the same thing.”
Your heart did that annoying little flip it always did when she looked at you like that, grinning, hair messy, eyes bright with excitement. - “Maybe” - you admitted.
Alysa dropped onto the bed beside you, shoulder bumping yours. The medal clinked against the zipper of her jacket.
“Seriously though” - she said, softer now. - “I’m glad you’re here. The Olympics would be kinda boring without your skating”
You stared at the floor so she wouldn’t see your face heat up.
If only she knew how much that sentence meant to you.
You had been crushing on Alysa for months, since training camp, maybe even earlier, but you kept it locked away like a secret routine you never showed anyone.
Alysa suddenly leaned over and nudged your arm.
“You’re being weirdly quiet.”
“I’m thinking.”
“Dangerous” - she said immediately.
You laughed despite yourself.
Then she grabbed her medal again and held it up between you.
“Okay important question” - she said. “When we’re old and retired and telling people about the Olympics… do you think anyone will believe the amount of dumb stuff i did here?” - You laugh. - “Oh, absolutely not.”
She grinned back at you. - “Good” - Alysa said. - “That means we’ll have to come back and make even better stories.”
⸻
The next morning the Olympic Village felt calmer.
Snow fell lightly outside the glass windows of the dining hall, and athletes shuffled in wearing puffy jackets and sleepy expressions.
You were halfway through a salad when someone dropped into the chair across from you.
“Morning” - Alysa said.
Your brain immediately short circuited a little.
Her hair was still messy from sleep, and she had the gold medal hanging around her neck again like she refused to take it off.
“Seriously? You’re wearing it to breakfast?” - you asked.
She sighed - “I earned it.”
You couldn’t even argue with that.
Before you could say anything else, Isabeau slid into the seat next to you and glanced between the two of you with a suspicious grin.
“Ohhh” - she said really slowly. Alysa frowned. - “What?”
She pointed between you and Alysa. - “You two are very obvious.” - Your stomach dropped.
“What?” - you said way too quickly. Isabeau leaned forward. - “The way you look at her.”
Alysa blinked. - “Wait, what?”- “nothing, she’s just delusional” - you tried to cool it off.
“I’m just saying” - she added while walking away. - “if you’re gonna have a crush on an Olympic champion you should at least be subtle about it.”
Alysa turned toward you slowly. - “You have a crush on an Olympic champion?”
You stared at your plate like it had suddenly become the most interesting object in the universe.
“Of course not” - you muttered.
Alysa watched you for a second… then shrugged. - “Ok. People say weird stuff.”
You exhaled quietly, relief mixing with disappointment.
⸻
Later that afternoon you and Alysa walked through the Olympic Village together.
She waved to basically everyone.
Snowboarders. Skiers. Speed skaters.
“Do you know literally every athlete here?” - you asked.
“I’m very likable” - she said confidently.
You rolled your eyes.
Just then a tall skater from another country jogged up beside her.
“Hey, Alysa! Amazing skate yesterday!”
Alysa lit up instantly. - “Thanks!”
They started chatting excitedly about jumps and finals and training camps while you walked beside them quietly.
Then the other skater laughed and lightly bumped Alysa’s shoulder.
“Seriously though, we should hang out tonight. Some of us are going to a celebration thing.”
Alysa grinned. - “Yeah, maybe!”
Something weird twisted in your chest. But you told yourself it was nothing.
But when the skater walk away, Alysa glanced at you. - “Everything fine?” - “Yeah.”
“You look like someone stole your medal.” - “technically you did” - “but I’m fine” - you insisted.
She studied you for another second, then suddenly stopped walking. - “ugh, what?” - “You’re jealous.”
You almost tripped.
“I am not.”
Her grin slowly grew.
“Oh my god.”
“What??”
“You are.”
You groaned and started walking again. “Stop it.”
But Alysa jogged to catch up, walking backward in front of you.
“Wait wait wait” - she said. - “Who are you jealous of?”
“No one.”
“Is it the snowboarder from yesterday?”
“No.”
“The speed skater?”
“No!”
She stares at you like she was solving a puzzle.
“Then who-“
“Can we talk about literally anything else?”
She stopped walking. And you stopped too.
For a second neither of you said anything.
Snow drifted around between the Olympic dorm buildings.
Then Alysa spoke again, softer this time.
“Is it me?”
Your heart nearly stopped.
“What?”
“Are you jealous” - she said slowly - “because people keep trying to steal your best friend?”
“Yeah…” - you admitted.
She smiled. The joking smile she used with everyone else.
“Good” - she said. You blinked. - “Good?”
She stepped a little closer.
“I was worried you didn’t care.”
“I care” - you said quickly.
Alysa tilted her head.
“How much?”
The question hung in the air.
Your heart pounded so loudly you were sure she could hear it.
You were about to open your mouth-
But a group of athletes suddenly ran past yelling about some event happening in the main building.
Alysa laughed and stepped back.
“Let’s go” - she said, grabbing your sleeve. - “We should go see what’s happening.”
⸻
You followed her toward the noise, heart still racing.
The celebration in the main building was loud music, athletes shouting, someone starting a chant in another language, but you slipped out after a while. It was too crowded, too loud, and your brain kept replaying the moment from earlier.
“How much do you care?”
You leaned against the railing outside, watching the snow drift through the lights.
“Hey.”
You didn’t even need to turn around to recognize Alysa’s voice.
“You run away” - she said, stepping beside you.
“Just needed air.”
She nodded, leaning next to you. For a minute neither of you spoke. The music thumped faintly through the walls behind you.
Then she held her medal up again, letting it swing slightly.
“You know” - she said - “everyone keeps asking what the best part of the Olympics was.”
You smiled a little. - “Winning gold?”
“Okay yeah that’s second.”
You looked at her.
“What’s first then?”
She shrugged, but her voice was softer than usual.
“Being here with you.”
“Alysa-“
“I’m serious” - she said quickly. - “Everyone thinks the medal is the big thing. But honestly? Half the time I was just excited to be with you on rink, see you skate.”
The snow crunched softly as she shifted closer.
“You were there for everything” - she added. “Training. Nerves. All of it.”
You swallowed.
“You done the same things for me.”
“I did” - she said. - “But that’s not what I mean.”
“Alysa…”
She looked at you directly now.
“Before we got here” - she said - “when I asked how much you care… you were going to say something.”
You start panic.
“…Yeah.”
“You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to” - she said gently.
But somehow that made it harder not to.
You laughed quietly, shaking your head.
“This is going to ruin everything.”
“Why would it ruin anything?”
“Because” - you said, voice barely above a whisper. - “you’re my best friend. And if I tell you the truth and it’s weird then I lose that.”
Alysa frowned slightly.
“Lose me? That’s not happening.”
You took a deep breath.
“I have a crush on you.”
The words fell into the cold air between you.
For a second Alysa just stared at you.
Your stomach dropped.
“See?” - you said quickly. - “That’s exactly the reaction I was worried about. We can just forget-“
Then she started laughing.
“Alysa?” - you said, confused.
She covered her face for a second.
“Oh my god.”
“What?!”
“I thought you didn’t like me.”
Your brain completely froze.
“What?…”
She dropped her hands and looked at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“I’ve been trying to figure it out for months.”
“Figure what out?”
“If you liked me.”
You blinked.
“Wait.”
She grinned nervously.
“Yeah. Wait.”
“You… like me?”
Alysa rolled her eyes dramatically.
“You’re the worst Sherlock ever.”
Your heart was racing so hard you thought you might actually pass out.
“So…what does that mean?” - you asked.
She stepped a little closer.
Her colored hair glittered in the light.
“Well, It means” - she said - “my Olympic gold medal is cool…”
She reached down and gently took your hands.
“…but this might actually be the best thing that happened here.”
“So” - she added with a small smile - “can I kiss you now? Or do you need another twenty minutes to panic about it?”
“Definitely panicking.”
“Fair.”
But she didn’t let go of your hands.
And a second later, when she leaned in and kissed you softly in the snow outside, you realized something.
Maybe the Olympics weren’t the biggest moment of your life after all.
⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 ellie williams 𓂃 ⋆ who is undeniably and unwaveringly yours.
summary · ellie's losing her mind over you, but that's not the only thing she's losing tonight.
watch out · masterlist, sub!top!loser!virgin!ellie, dom!bottom!fem!reader, established relationship, seniors in highschool au aka you're both 18, praise, teasing, profanity, no ai used, dirty talk, fingering, tr*bbing, requested: "i want more virgin ellie," ⋆˚࿔ not my best work by far, but thanks for the request! a bit rusty since I haven't been writing as much.
taglist · @bournedientity
"and you're sure your parents aren't coming home soon?"
"yes, ellie," you rolled your eyes with your lips pulled into a smile. "now, remember what I told you?"
you laid back on your soft, white sheets and looked up at her. her auburn locks were tussled from when you'd pulled them, there were beads of sweat rolling down her skin although the fan was on, and her hazel eyes had been darkened a shade by lust.
"yeah. relax," she inhaled, exhaled, and let her shoulders drop, "get, get on top of you," she placed her hands on either side of your body, "and do... f—foreplay?"
"good job." you cooed, dragging out the vowels in the words and chuckling a little as you said them the way you would when praising a pet.
"so I kiss you now, right?"
"right, baby. and you don't have to worry about not being nervous, just do what feels right to you."
she let out a relaxed sigh at that and leaned in to gently press her lips to yours. she moaned at the feeling, and you smiled against her mouth then let your fingers wander into her hair.
a little more confident now, she moved her right set of fingers to your thigh and squeezed the plush, doughy skin there.
"can I touch you more?" she pulled away to ask quickly.
you nodded, even more turned on by how respectful she was being. honestly, all it took was ellie breathing in your direction the right way to get you worked up—but she didn't have to know that.
the hand on your thigh danced across your skin until it was slipping under the hem of your shirt carefully. you gasped as the feeling of her freezing fingers scorched the much warmer skin of your stomach, and she took that as an opportunity to get a little bolder, to slip her tongue into your mouth.
you got more impatient, and ellie got more bold, so it wasn't long before she was slipping your panties off, groaning at the sight of your pretty pussy, and nearly completely free of her nervousness. it was hard to stay flustered when she couldn't stop thinking about how you were hot, in charge, and still whimpering under her touch.
"so fuckin' pretty, thank you for letting me touch you," she breathed out shakily, parting your folds and quickly slipping a finger in with ease because of how soaked you were.
she was moving to the next stages faster now, and your brain, pussy, and mouth were struggling to keep the pace. "ellie. slow down," you mewled.
her eyes gleamed as she watched your clear fluid gather around her finger, and her underwear started getting damper by the second. "sorry, need you s' bad." she said even though she really wasn't.
she started moving her digit at a slow pace and muttering soft "is this okay," "are you feeling nice," and "am I doing good"s, but after a while she started pumping into you with no hesitation.
she started with one finger, then there were two, and somewhere between her skilled thrusts and your whiny moans she'd inserted a third. you were so close and right there and cumming and then—
you whined at the loss of her long fingers as she pulled out.
"ellie, I was just about to cum. for someone new at this you sure are fucking annoying, don't tease me," you commanded shakily.
she stuck her fingers in her mouth to taste you, and laughed at how cute you were when you were mad. "I know I know princess, I'm sorry, but can I... try something?"
"try what?" you narrowed your eyes in suspicion.
she shuffled out of her embarrassingly damp navy boxers and revealed her cunt, the skin there glistening from her slick. "wanna try feeling you..." she trailed off. she was way more confident than when you'd begun, but judging by the way she was squirming under your gaze and twitching her nervousness had resurfaced.
you nearly came on the spot from the sight of her and the vision her words had crafted, but regained your composure before you got too worked up and nodded.
"yes. are you sure though? I don't want it to be too much, only if you're ok—" you were cut off by her settling on top of you, both of her legs on either side of yours.
her eyes rolled to the back of her head as soon as her clit made contact with yours, and you moaned at the feeling of her sensitive bundle of nerves pressing against yours.
she rolled her hips once slowly.
"ell—ie! I can't—" you sobbed.
"aww, is it too much? you sure?" she moved back and forth then back again and felt your pussy twitch against hers. you gripped the bicep closest to you for support, digging your fingers in as you tried to hold back your moans and whimpers and filthy whines.
you only nodded in response. the feeling of her against you made it nearly impossible to think, and she was so hot. when did she get so confident? what did she even ask you again?
"fuckkk," another grind, "your body seems to disagree with you baby. lit's twitchin' against mine like you're gonna finish."
"are you arguing with me williams?" you questioned firmly after letting out a borderline pornographic moan.
"n—no!" she recoiled back into herself and got even wetter from how dominant you'd sounded, and you giggled a bit.
"is that all it takes? you, mm, folded under no pressure els."
she glared at you, but only for a few seconds before her eyes drooped back down into their familar "please fuck me" look.
"don't look at me like that, els. this's, mmm, right there! your fault for being so rude." you got out over the wet noises coming from your cunts and mutual moans.
that familiar coil in your stomach started threatening to unravel again, and by the way ellie was whining like a bitch in heat you could tell she was close too. she bucked your hips down, and you bucked yours up on accident, and you both moaned at the feeling.
"ngh, gonna cum! fuck, you're so good els." you managed to get out between little whimpers and whines.
"say, say that again." she groaned.
"y—you're so good els?" you said cautiously, confused on exactly what she wanted you to repeat.
"I'm—oh my god, cum with me, please, need you so bad," she sobbed.
and so you did. youe mouth opened in a silent scream as your pussy spasmed, and her release gushed all over you. the combination of her continuing to roll against you and her moans had you reeling even further, and it wasn't long before you were letting out little "ah, ah, ah"s in sync with her grinds.
when you'd finally, finally both come down, the sheets were wet, your legs and thighs were a mess, and the only sounds reverberating through the room were your pants and shaky inhales.
"so... how would you rate your first time?" you giggled with an arm thrown over your eyes
.ᐟ.ᐟ pairing: tennis player!ellie x ex-tennis player!reader — challengers movie theme.
.ᐟ.ᐟ summary: fifteen years of career, eight of marriage, a beautiful son. money, trophies, and recognition. the top of the world in her hands. ellie had achieved it all, but for her, having you was the greatest win. so what seemed like a solid end about to come with dignity, to you was only seeing failure in her; the frustration in you. ‘cause now, how far would you go to become a challenger in your own marriage?
.ᐟ.ᐟ warnings: masc/ellie x fem/reader. (kinda loser ellie tbh) mentions of fights, cursing, manipulation from both sides. clearly toxic relationship. failed athlete, feelings like anxiety and anger. nsfw. fingering, oral sex. explicit lenguage. sexual tension. reader is mean MEAN! MDNI. +18.
wc; 3.5k
12:45pm;
november 18, 2009
your legs stretched out in the stands, the sun shining directly on your head, filtered through the umbrella a young man held for you, by your side. the small stadium was packed, and from your front row you could even see ellie's shoes slipping as she made one mistake after another. and another.
at the beginning of the set you were busy counting the points, noting in your small notebook the changes in play you observed in the opponent, your hands rose when ellie made a point and the crowd applauded as if they were seeing a miracle in person; because that's what they believed.
but not you. you knew it when you saw her arms droop as if someone had suddenly placed a ten-kilo weight on each hand, running from one side to the other as if the floor were mocking her, and suddenly she wasn't ellie williams anymore. the player for whom probably everyone paid a ticket to the event to see her play, wearing the clothes of the brands she had a deal with, the ones who paid rent month after month at the most expensive hotels. she wasn't the ellie who posed with her racket in the most-watched commercials on television in the afternoons anymore, she wasn’t even trying.
it started to get ridiculous. the sun began to sting your skin, even though it was barely there; your jaw was a closed box of steel, and your expression was being recorded by the media and reporters on the other side. the commentators were surely making the moment their fun later.
people began to fall silent, sipping on their aperol, lowering their gazes as if they felt sorry for ellie. you didn’t feel sorry, it was worst than that. you felt it in your nerves.
when the match was about to end, ellie's opponent had completely crushed her. it wasn't even something equal. or something where you could say, "oh, you know. she did her best." no, it was embarrassing.
the worst part? eliza thorne. she was laughing at ellie when the timer ran out, gesturing to one of the cameras to her right; she had triumphed. damn, she had beaten ellie. fucking. williams, the world champion.
everyone applauded as if they clearly hadn't been there to witness such a loss of dignity from the favorite. the noise in the arena began, clearing everything out. and with this, it was the third match that ellie lost that week in the tournament.
by the time you got up from the bleachers, you could already feel ellie's gaze on you, the half-broken racket in her hand because minutes before she'd smashed it against the ground as if that would do anything other than make her the joke of everyone the next day in the papers. you didn't turn to look at her, but you knew the kind of look she'd have, the same as always, as if she wanted to crawl up to you and beg for forgiveness.
you didn’t care.
when you could see her, it was when the tunnel to the changing rooms welcomed you, the tips of your heels sharpening the floor, entering the red door where ellie remained locked up; when you entered you saw her, holding her head with both hands, legs against her chest in a fetal position; pathetic.
As soon as she saw you she jumped off the bench, her hair in the short mullet soaking wet, greenish eyes reddened, tired.
“babe— forgive me.” was the first thing she said, her hands in the air as if she wanted to join her palms and pray to some deity.
“save it. it’s late already, i wanna go back.”
you interrupted her without thinking, you didn't even look at her. not even when she carried her suitcase on her shoulder like a defeated puppy, forcing smiles at the people who stopped and asked for photos, autographs, even those who just wanted to see her. ellie wasn't one to fake it either. you left with her, rejecting any kind of exclusive or interview. and the van took you straight to the hotel.
of course you felt her fingers trying to brush against yours on the back seat, her wedding ring against yours signifying heaven to her. your gaze out the window, watching the streets full of tourists; just like the two of you. ellie dried her face with a towel, filled up on electrolytes to kick-start her system, but even that wasn't enough. she knew she was screwed for the rest of the day.
when you placed both bare feet on the suite's carpet, throwing your heels into the entrance, the little boy with brown curls ran towards you, and behind him, his nanny.
“oh my lord. who’s this handsome boy?”
you said, lifting the child into your arms. a little boy of six, snuggled up to you, named JJ; barefoot and covered in candy. "mommy, i missed you."
“me too, my heart.” you hugged him close. ellie came in after you, talking to the nanny, knowing things were too delicate to make any wrong moves right now. “did you take a bath?” you asked, walking down the long hallway toward the bedrooms with JJ in your arms. out of the corner of your eye, you noticed ellie again, staring at you as if she wanted to crush you with her gaze.
by nine o'clock at night, you'd spent almost the entire day deliberately ignoring ellie. you didn't speak to her unless it was absolutely necessary. ellie spent the whole afternoon with her coaches talking about who-knows-what, and you didn't even want to know, honestly.
you only knew she'd came back to the room when she poured herself a liter of protein straight into her system; punishing herself. she sat for hours in the living room, sprawled out, watching the sports channels criticizing her performance that afternoon.
two men in suits sat at a table, with images of the game on one side. the image divided. one of them remarked how "ellie isn't the same as before; not even the same as she was six months ago." the other replied, almost laughing, "she hasn't performed the same way for years, and yet they still bet on her."
ellie, her throat tight, her eyes blazing, her hand clutching a light beer; because, what did it matter anymore? she wasn't interested in her damn diet anymore. where had all this led her?
and you heard it; of course you did. you were watching it on the tv in the bedroom; at one point the commentators even showed images of you. you knew it, the moment it broke you to see ellie miss the second serve like a stranger. — “and ellie’s wife. her agent. what do you do in those moments?” one of them gossiped. “completely mediocre. and that's not even mentioning how good she was as a rookie before her accident.”
your accident. your story. how could they…?
“JJ is already with your mother in the room downstairs.” ellie’s voice filled the silence of an entire day, entering the bedroom measuring her movements; she searched in the drawers of her perfectly organized clothes, even though you were only in the hotel for a few weeks, for a white t-shirt.
your mother had come as always to help both of you take care of the child, offering all the help possible, as if it had been a teenage pregnancy six years ago. as if it hadn't been the most planned, carefully considered and meticulously cared-for pregnancy in history.
you looked up immediately, sitting on the bed and turning off the television. “why didn’t you give them a room here? there’s plenty of space.” your voice was so painfully rude on purpose.
but ellie didn't flinch. it was as if she knew you like the back of her hand, as if putting up with your rudeness was a delight for her. "your mom said something about the downstairs rooms having access to the pool, and JJ wants to swim," ellie said, shrugging it off, and as if by magic, drawing courage into her chest. "and because i wanted to talk to you." finally, she turned to face you.
you analyzed her, as if offended by the fact that she'd dared to confront you. your gaze traveled down her arms; the veins bulged, each muscle perfectly toned, her shoulders lightly tanned, that black adidas sports bra pressed against her chest, her elastic shorts, and her defined abs. there were scars from all the physical therapy sessions ellie underwent week after week. painful.
your gaze rose again, fluttering your eyelashes toward her, rolling your eyes, dismissing her needs. “i’m tired,” you said, as if the topic of the match had vanished from your memory.
and ellie took a step forward, her shadow directly blocking yours. "i want to talk to my wife for once."
and you fell silent, your back against the wooden headboard, and looked at her once more; and intentionally or not, you adopted an attitude as if you were superior to her; waiting for whatever she might have to say. “go ahead then. light up my night, ellie.”
“… i know what happened a few hours ago. i’m not stupid. i know i undid months of training and sacrifice for us in half an hour of that match,” ellie said, trying to express what she couldn’t with her straight, gesticulating hands.
“and you probably think i did it on purpose, that i want to ruin your reputation or so.”
a pause. unwittingly, her eyes softened intentionally.
“but it’s my body. it’s my sorrow. i can’t—i can’t anymore. my body doesn’t respond like it did when we were twenty, i just can’t…” she repeated a second time, searching your gaze for a glimmer of mercy, still maintaining her strength. “i feel the weight on my shoulders. And i want to retire. i— that’s it. that’s what i want. i want to retire with dignity.”
pure silence.
“what do you want me to say?” you said, shrugging your shoulders. "do you want me to say yes? that i agree with that?"
ellie seemed almost to break. almost.
“i want—god. i want my wife’s fucking support. i want her to tell me it’s okay to hang my head after all these years,” ellie said, annoyed, but not as much as she seemed desperate.
“it’s a shame. i think you’re a shame. we’ve been planning this tournament for years and now you come here crying like a baby, defeated like you’re eighteen again and you’ve lost your initiation.
…but wake up, ellie, i’m not going to play the role you expect. i think you’re a waste.” you said, it was like dropping a bomb in the middle of you all, your temper like iron, your resolve unwavering.
this time there was no silence, only an immediate response. “damn it, i’ve given you everything! i’ve been everything you’ve wanted, we’ve come this far after so many years… after so much,” ellie said, now truly defeated. “i’ve been—i’ve been what you could never be. and don’t take me wrong, i fulfilled the dream for both of us, and i’m not complaining, you know that.”
her knees buckled at the edge of the mattress, her eyes red, as if her body were speaking for her, crawling towards you like a doll.
“i’ve given you my whole soul, and i would do it a thousand times over and over, but baby— please…”
your throat burned, it chilled you to the bone. because for you, this shouldn't end like this, not like this. even though you knew that ellie had decided to walk for both of you.
“if you…” your voice faltered, you felt vulnerable. exposed. “if you retire, i want the divorce.”
the disbelie on ellie's face was almost a picture. her lower lip trembled, and she finished crawling towards you—a sob escaped her throat, her lips meeting the scar on your knee, the one that marked both of your lives, even now.
another sob from her, and your hand went to caress ellie's head, her hair that under that light seemed reddish as under the sun, tender, you even bent down a little to give her a kiss on the corner of her forehead.
a few minutes passed like this, ellie like a little girl in your lap, until her tears finally stopped, her gaze as if she were understanding her position in the situation. everything was uncertain; she didn't know what would happen an hour later. but ellie would do anything to keep you with her, at least for those moments, even if they were the last.
ellie slipped between your legs, kissing your skin with purpose, her hands lifting your dress above your waist. “i want to take care of you tonight,” she whispered. “ i want to— to make love to you, at least give me that.”
it surprised you at first; your hand was still on her head, your words were broken, and your skin tingled at her kisses. “ellie…” you whispered, unable to deny that the way she was kneeling before you triggered a twisted thought of desiring her in that situation, on the edge of your relationship.
“i wanna be good to you. wanna fuck my wife properly. my wife.” ellie said in a whispered voice close to your skin, followed by her nose against your panties, closing her eyes, waiting for you.
and yes, all of this was wrong, you knew it when you couldn't help but nod your head and the heat emanated from within your legs. ellie acted quickly, removing your satin dress, as if it had something to do with the whole situation; but the truth is, she wanted to see you completely naked.
ellie didn't wait, she knelt before you, her eyes resting on yours. "show me, babe," she whispered, pulling down your panties without hesitation, her gaze immediately settling on your cunt.
you were speechless when ellie's lips kissed the outside of you, the tip of her nose gently tracing up and down your slit, opening you wider. your moans were immediate, your legs opening wider towards her. "look at me—don't stop looking at me," she said.
her lips parted and circled your clit, pulling and licking it. you swore your vision blurred even at the beginning. “shit—” you stuttered, your belly rising and falling with your ragged, shaky breath.
her face buried itself in your cunt, and your back arched reverently, releasing stifled moans as your chest rose and fell. her chin rubbed against your hole; it was like a woman going completely wild, using the power of her hands to quickly rub your clit, looking at you. one of her hands moved up to your tits, and with how frantically she was touching you, it wouldn't be long before you had your own peak.
“ellie!” you whimpered, your cunt making those dirty sounds because of the rhythm ellie was taking with you; you were so wet that her hand slid down your mound like a waterfall, and before you knew it, pleasure made your legs go numb, letting out a louder moan, closing your eyes, squeezing her hair tightly.
“there— shit. look at that needy clit throbbing for me.” ellie said, slowing her hand over you, pulling back slightly, her other hand, which she had on your peaky nips, using it to give you little pats there, using you. you swore you wanted to come right there again.
you closed your legs, opened your eyes—weakly. but you knew it wasn't over when ellie lay down beside you, on her side, almost on top of you. her face was wet with your juices.
and you watched her, your eyes locked, your thumb moving to her chin, caressing it with your own being. and ellie stole a kiss; not a soft, uncomprehending one. it was passionate, her tongue demanding a claim inside your mouth immediately, devouring you completely, even the hand that was closest closed around your jaw, forcing you to only kiss her.
you gasped against her mouth, your head thrown back by ellie's strength; but you involuntarily broke the kiss when ellie's fingers slipped between your legs again, this time more insistently. "shh," ellie said, closing her eyes, her lips against your cheek, whispering to you. "do you want me to fill you up?" she murmured against your skin, as if it were a secret between you. "to enter you and make you completely mine, mmh?"
the air was taken from your lungs, stolen. “i am yours,” you replied, as if you were now kneeling before her, letting her win.
you felt ellie's smile form slightly. "you know what i mean, baby," she whispered again, her fingers taking the opportunity to caress your entire mound. "i want to feel you tight around me. then leave you soft and open. it's been a while, hasn't it?" she said, her fingertips dangerously circling your needy entrance. and you gasped. how could you not?
everything else can wait when you have your wife like this. you'd be crazy not to surrender at her feet, because after all, you adored her.
you nodded slightly; and it was as if ellie was acting out of necessity rather than request. there was no foreplay to save you from her slender fingers sliding into your heat uninterrupted, and you complained—moaning against her. ellie nodded, pulling her head back to look at you again. “lift your leg up to your chest,” she whispered again. and so you did, holding your leg up yourself, dirty, exposed.
you didn't care. by the time two fingers were fully inside, curling like hooks, ellie began to move them.
“like that, mama. so fucking wet.” she spoke between kisses she scattered across your chin and neck, her hand moving reverently between your legs; the sound was unlike any other, you clung to her arm, the veins in it pumping like when she trained in the mornings against the racket over and over again.
“i can’t— ellie…” you stammered, small tears falling from your eyes, ellie’s knuckles were hitting against your entrance, she was completely buried in you, your wetness sliding down her wrist.
“i know baby. this pussy swallowing and milking my fingers so fucking good.” she whispered against your lips, her hand moving impossibly faster, hitting your walls in a familiar way, as if she knew exactly what to do to steal your breath. “come. i’m here. i’m not going to let you go.”
the sensitivity between your legs couldn't take it—a short circuit of thoughts and you let out a moan that would surely echo throughout the hotel, moving your hips in sync with hers, fragile—completely broken. ellie helped you stay in the moment, her fingers going in and out of you, caressing your slit and going back in, whispering words you didn't even fully understand.
words weren't needed; her hand roamed your body as if it were her temple, and you her god brought down from heaven. her eyes gazed at you with the same tenderness as always; she didn't want to play games with you anymore.
you were both adults now, perhaps acting like a pair of children still.
“would you hold me til’ i pass asleep?”
ellie whispered close to you, her eyes softened—never rough to you—your hand still on her arm, and with a small nod you agreed, pulling the covers over you. she quickly turned off the bedside lamp; and when the moment was right, you covered her back with your chest. she took your hand, pulling it towards her, kissing the back of it. “i love you,” she whispered.
by the time the hours had passed, ellie was no longer by your side. the bedside clock that had woken you minutes before was ticking away, displaying "5:40 a.m." ellie's side of the bed was cold, the bathroom light on. and only then did you realize she had gotten up to go train earlier than anyone. because not only couldn't she afford to fail, she wanted you to see her win like old times. she wanted to make you happy, to pamper you and your son endlessly.
call it what you want, but ellie had no direction without you; the rudder of her ship led her to the most terrible storms inside her head; there was no future without you, and she would keep playing until her legs no longer responded, or until you said so.
and you were sure of it, because despite the love you had for her, if you accepted that ellie was already in her final years of splendor, you would take the most convenient route, and that would only be one where she ceased to be a part of your life. failure couldn't belong to you. not again.
no matter who or what you had to let go of.
alexa, play the soundtrack of challengers in apple music. (cause i wrote this with the intention that you would hear it too tehee 😽)
likes, comments and reblogs are truly appreciated, really really REALLY!!!!! thank you for reading. <3
Warnings: childhood trauma mentioned, slight violence, unhealthy possession. (Is there such thing??)
˙⋆✮ Sevika was possessive, there was no doubt about it, you were hers and only hers and anyone who thought otherwise would simply get proven wrong. She only had to stare somebody down or pull you closer by the hips and their stars would disappear.
Her possessiveness was physical. She never got too jealous when you spoke to others unless it was very obviously flirtatious. Often she wouldn't have to step in as you'd always end the conversation the minute anyone got a little too friendly, which was why she never felt the need to hover much or keep an eye on you. Sevika knew you could handle yourself and that you were fiercely loyal.
˙⋆✮ Your own possessive tendencies over Sevika however, were completely different. From childhood trauma of having basic needs withheld and living in Zaun where being robbed was a frequent problem, yoh had a major issue with being protective over what you claimed as yours. That included your beautiful girl Sevika.
Despite being highly aware of people flirting with you, Sevika could never quite grasp when other Zaunite women were flirting with her. She perceived every interaction as friendly because there was no chance in hell anybody was openly trying to flirt with her when they knew she was taken. Right?
Wrong. The anger crawled under your skin each time a woman was brave enough to touch what was yours. Was the bartender simply patting her forearm in a polite gesture? Or was she trying to worm her way between you both slowly and steal your woman? You weren't waiting to find out. A week later the poor girl had quit and wouldn't tell anyone how her nose got broken...
˙⋆✮ It was a trait you hated. Logically you knew that even if another woman flirted with Sevika she wouldn't leave you. She loved you with every fiber of her being, just as you did when it came to her. But the mere idea of someone trying to forcefully take what was yours? It wasn't something you would risk, especially not when it came to perhaps the most important thing in your life. Sevika.
You adjust your phone against the dashboard, making sure the angle captures both you and Ellie in the front seats of her truck. The In-N-Out bag sits between you, grease already starting to darken the paper, and the smell of fresh fries fill the cab.
"Okay, is it recording?" you ask, leaning forward to check.
Ellie nods, unwrapping her Double-Double with practiced efficiency. "Yeah, you're good."
You flash a smile at the camera. "Hey guys! So today we're here with my girlfriend, and we'll be reviewing In-N-Out for the first time together."
You gesture to Ellie, who gives an awkward little wave, a smirk playing at her lips.
You unwrap your burger, the melted cheese stretching as you lift it. "Alright, let's try this." It's good, really good, but nothing revolutionary.
The video fades to black
and suddenly her hand is on the back of your neck, pulling you in. Your burger drops back into its wrapper as her lips crash against yours, hungry and insistent. She tastes like special sauce and want, her tongue sliding against yours as you gasp into her mouth. Your hand fists in her flannel shirt, pulling her closer across the center console, and she makes this low sound in her throat that goes straight through you.
Another transition happens
You pull back, both breathing hard, and blink at the camera like you're just remembering it's there.
“I’d rate it a 6/10 it’s good but not that good, what about you baby?”
Ellie clears her throat, her cheeks flushed pink, lips still wet. "Uh, yeah. 6/10 sounds about right. Good, but not life-changing or anything."
You end the video
She's biting her lip, trying not to smile.
"So," you echo, equally useless.
"That was—" she gestures vaguely at the phone, "—very on-brand for the trend."
"Very authentic," you agree, way too seriously. "Very believable couple energy."
"The most believable," Ellie nods, but her hand is already back on your thigh. "We should probably... I don't know, go home or something?"
"Yeah, that's a good idea," you say, making zero move to start the car. "Very responsible."
"Super responsible," she agrees, leaning over the center console to kiss you again, softer this time but no less intense. When she pulls back, she's grinning. "Okay, now we should actually go."
"Right. Going. Now." You fumble with the keys, nearly dropping them twice. The drive back to your apartment is a comedy of errors, you miss your exit because you're too busy laughing at something Ellie said, she keeps making jokes about your "6/10 rating," and by the time you're pulling into your parking spot, you're both delirious with anticipation and barely contained laughter.
"We're such idiots," Ellie mutters as you stumble out of the truck.
"The worst," you agree, but you're already pulling her toward the door.
The door barely closes before Ellie has you pressed against it, her mouth hot on your neck. "You're such a fucking tease," she growls against your skin, and you can't help the moan that escapes.
"Me? You're the one who—" Your words cut off as she bites down on that sensitive spot below your ear, her hands already working at the button of your jeans.
"Bedroom," you manage, but Ellie shakes her head.
"Can't wait."
She drops to her knees right there in the entryway, yanking your jeans and underwear down in one smooth motion. The first touch of her tongue makes your knees buckle, and you have to brace yourself against the door. She's always been good at this, knows exactly how to work you up, where to press and lick and suck until you're trembling.
"Fuck, Ellie," you gasp, threading your fingers through her hair. She looks up at you, eyes dark with desire, and the sight of her between your legs nearly undoes you right there.
She doubles her efforts, two fingers sliding inside you as her mouth focuses on your clit, and the combination is devastating. Your hips rock against her face, chasing the pleasure building in your core, and she moans against you, the vibration sending sparks up your spine.
"I'm gonna—" you warn, but she already knows, can feel you tightening around her fingers. She curls them just right, and you come with a cry, your whole body shaking as waves of pleasure crash over you.
Before you can fully recover,
Ellie's standing, kissing you hard, and you can taste yourself on her lips. You walk her backward toward the couch, stripping off her flannel and shirt as you go. By the time the back of her knees hit the cushions, she's down to her sports bra and jeans.
You push her down and straddle her lap, grinding against her as you kiss her neck, her collarbone, the tops of her breasts. She's panting now, her hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise.
"Please," she breathes, and you've never heard anything hotter.
You work her jeans open, sliding your hand inside, and she's so wet already. You stroke her slowly at first, teasing, until she's bucking up into your hand and cursing under her breath.
"More," she demands, and you give it to her, fingers moving faster, harder, until she's gasping your name and coming apart beneath you.
Later, tangled together on the couch, Ellie laughs softly. "That TikTok's gonna do numbers."
You grin against her shoulder. "Maybe we should review more restaurants."
contents: fluffy; it's kinda short and shitty, im sorry :(
summary: ellie comes back from work and finds you mumbling in pain, curled up in the sheets of your shared bed.
i love when you guys comment and interact with me, so please do it
From your comfortable place in your side of the bed, curled with your knees to your chest, you could hear the sound of the front door being unlocked. But that wasn't enough to make you move a single muscle. Your mind was a little fuzzy by the painkillers you've taken and your own drowsy state.
All you could think about was how good and warm the sheets felt in your skin and and how the little twinges of pain were still felt even through the painkiller.
"Babe, I'm home!" Ellie said in a sweet tone, loud enough that you could hear her from anywhere in the house.
Your mouth lifted in a small, lazy smile upon hearing your wife's voice. It makes you really happy to know that she was home, safe and there just for you, but again, you weren't in the moment to move a single muscle, even to answer her.
Ellie took off her coat, hanging it next to the front door while frowning and asking herself if everything was okay since you hadn't texted her back when she sent you a text asking about your day, or even answered to her call when she called you to ask if you wanted something from the grocery store.
Actually, the two of you hadn't talked to each other the entire day, and she was already planning an apology — imagining that you were mad at her —, even though she didn't remember doing anything to make you upset.
But you know what they say: happy wife, happy life.
So when she approaches your shared room with a stolen flower from the neighbor's garden, she's surprised to see her sweet and loving wife all curled up in pain.
When you see her pretty green eyes, you can't hold back the small pout that forms in your lips and the hot tears that steam your soft cheeks.
Her face grows worried and she walks fast to your bed, forgetting about the little pink stolen flower.
“What happened? I'm sorry baby, I'm an idiot” she pulls you up and hugs you, letting you wet her bottom up shirt.
She's so sweet that she's apologizing even though she doesn't know what's upsetting you. That's so touching.
You start sobbing and your hands hold her like she might disappear if you don't hold her close enough.
“Baby, talk to me” her hands hold your face and gently force you to look at her “What did I do?”
You take slow deep breaths before you're able to speak back at her.
“It's not you baby, it's this stupid bloody mess!”
Ellie even considered a joke about murder, but she knows better. So she kisses all over your face, your forehead, your stained cheeks, the point of your nose, your chin, and finally, your swollen lips.
Your face always gets so swollen and hot when you cry, even though you hate it, Ellie finds it one of the cutest things in the world.
“Have you already taken something to help with the pain, sweetheart?” She massages your scalp, being careful not to ruin your perfect looking curls.
You nod, hiding your face in her chest and melting at her touch. She's so gentle with you, like you're her precious princess and she's in this world only to take care of you.
“Is there something you need me to do? Do you want some candy or anything?”
“No, I just want you.”
And that's what she gives you, her. She lies down with you in her arms, massaging your delicate body, paying attention to every piece of skin and muscle.
Sometimes, that's all you need on your bad days: some attention from your love, to make you feel like you're special, and to her, you're more than special, you're her whole world and she's just a moon orbiting you.
dividers credit goes to @cursed-carmine !
ઇ taglist (I forgot, im sorry): @emmaaravello , @kaykaifxck , @wqodwzrd , @lilicemito , @cherrybomb61
if you want to be added to my taglist, you can just ask me :)
𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: loser!ellie straps you for the first time
𝑪𝑾: SEXUAL CONTENT, 15+, smut, dirty talk, awkward!ellie
𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: LOSER!ELLIE x READER
"So, um—" Ellie adjusts the harness for the third time, her cheeks already flushed pink. The black silicone cock bobs awkwardly as she moves, and she won't quite meet your eyes. "Is this... is this right?"
"Perfect," you assure her, spreading your thighs wider in invitation. "Now come here."
She kneels between your legs, one hand hovering uncertainly near your hip. "I don't really know what to... I mean, what should I—"
"Talk to me," you encourage, reaching up to cup her face. "Tell me what you want to do to me."
"I want to..." She swallows hard, her hand finally settling on your thigh. "I want to fuck you?"
It comes out like a question, tentative and sweet, and you can't help but smile. "You can do better than that. Be mean. Call me names."
"Names?" Her eyes widen. "Like... what kind of names?"
"Like what I am," you prompt, guiding her hand between your legs so she can feel how wet you already are. "Your desperate little..."
"Oh." Understanding dawns on her face, followed immediately by deeper embarrassment. "My desperate little... whore?"
"There you go." You rock against her fingers. "Keep going."
She positions herself at your entrance, the tip pressing against you, and takes a shaky breath. "You're such a... a pathetic whore for wanting this." The words are stilted, uncertain, but they send heat through you anyway.
"Fuck, Ellie, yes—"
Encouraged, she pushes inside, and you both gasp. She stills immediately, overwhelmed. "Oh my god, you're so—I can feel you—"
"Move," you urge, wrapping your legs around her waist. "Fuck me and tell me how pathetic I am."
She starts to thrust, clumsy at first, finding her rhythm. "You're so... so fucking pathetic," she tries, gaining a little confidence. "Begging for my cock like a—like a needy slut?"
"Perfect," you moan, and her hips stutter at the praise.
"Yeah?" She's breathless now, moving faster. "You like being my desperate little—oh fuck—my desperate slut who can't get enough?"
"God, yes, Ellie—"
Something shifts in her expression. The uncertainty melts away as she watches you fall apart beneath her, replaced by a hungry confidence that makes you clench around her. She leans down, bracing one hand beside your head, and the new angle has you crying out.
"Look at you," she breathes, and this time there's no hesitation. "So fucking needy for me. Taking my cock so well like the pathetic little slut you are."
"Ellie, please—"
"Please what?" She's found her rhythm now, each thrust deliberate and deep. "Please fuck you harder? Please make you come?" Her free hand slides between your bodies to find your clit. "Is this what you need?"
You can barely form words, nodding frantically as she circles your clit with steady pressure. The combination of her cock filling you and her fingers working you over is overwhelming.
"Come on," she urges, voice rough with her own arousal. The harness is rubbing against her with every thrust, and you can tell she's getting close too. "Come for me. Show me what a mess you are."
The command pushes you over the edge. You come hard, clenching around her, crying out her name as pleasure crashes through you. She fucks you through it, her movements getting erratic as she chases her own release.
"Fuck, fuck—" She grinds against you desperately, and then she's coming too, collapsing forward with a broken moan against your neck.
You hold her as you both catch your breath, running your fingers through her hair. After a moment, she lifts her head, that shy smile back on her face.
"So... that was okay?"
You laugh, pulling her down for a kiss. "That was fucking incredible. You're a natural."
Her grin turns wicked. "Good. Because I definitely want to do that again."
