writing is the only thing that drives me both insane and makes me happy. former username — @astroph1les
my ao3
writing for ellie williams & abby anderson from tlou2, violet, sevika & caitlyn kiramman from arcane: league of legends, mizu from blue eye samurai (requests are open <3 !)
MEN & MINORS DNI!!! | OFFICIAL MASTERLIST | KINKTOBER 2025 MASTERLIST
rules and get to know me! | FREE PALESTINE! | HOW YOU CAN HELP PALESTINE
in 2026, remember how GOOD writing feels. remember how satsfying it is to get your characters to the point you have been dying to get to, where they will experience the love, fear, relief or whatever the feeling you want to bring to life may be. let this year be the year of writing, prgress and of satisfactory endings.
hiiii, your work is so awesome and ive wanted to resquest something for a while so here it goes....sevika with a slightly deranged reader, please?! sometimes i just wanna see something different😞 but if you don't feel okay writing this, i totally understand ♡
i had gotten this request before i closed my inbox and i wanted to ask THE DYKE PUBLIC, to you all, if this means like harley quinn esque reader? because that’s what i’m envisioning!
like COULD BE A FUN TIME! lmk if that’s something you all would want!
hi cherryyy how are you?? also may i ask if you're planning to continue the soccer player Vi series?? 👀
hi nonnie!!! im doing pretty good! :) i’m actually not continuing my soccer player vi series! :( it’s a completed work and i don’t really have much else to add to it.
but
i am planning another series for vi because i’m obsessed with her, of course! (and other ideas for other characters!)
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ summary: sevika never thought she would see you again. when she gets put into a universe where she has everything she’s ever wanted, how selfish will she let herself be?
contains: ANGST!!!! i cannot stress it enough, s2 ep7 au!, possible inaccurate timeframe (i have no idea how long ekko is in the au! so i winged it), mentions of character death, fluff, sevika has a big heart, isha mention!, seriously, the angst.
word count: 4.5K
a/n: the first sevika post i make in a YEAR and its pure torture. i love you my sevika gooners but i needed this. MUAH!!! comments and reblogs are appreciated <33 and more thanks to @korn-dawg @valeisaslut @inwithrin & @bambi-luvs for reading this over and making sure it was just enough pain! i love you all and please enjoy!!!!
Sevika couldn't believe Jinx.
Taking in a kid? In her state? God, the girl drove her up the wall but she knew she couldn't try to convince her to not. After everything that blew up with Vi, she knew she couldn't seperate the two.
She stumbled into her own home; the quiet falling over the space with nothing but exhaustion. Every single muscle in her body felt like it had been flatened to a hair strand; barely hanging on. She sucked in a long breath, tossing her cape onto her dresser as she makes eye contact with the slightly cracked mirror.
Her bags are more prominent than they've been her entire career but maybe it's age.
Fuck, my back, she shakes her head at her thought as she arches her upper body for some sort of relief.
The soft stomping of her heavy boots carry her to her bathroom, flicking on the dim yellow light. Twisting on the tap, she takes a scoop full to splash her face in an attmept to wake herself up a bit. The dirt and grime of now taking over Silco's positon; Vander's position.
What am I doing? She stares at her reflection, her eyes following over the lines of fain scarring on her cheek and neck.
This is the position she's putting herself in. A cycle that she's afraid to break because what else does she know?
Then she felt it. A pressure behind her eyes and crawling up to her temples. She grunts at the headache and covers her eyes to pinch at her fatigued eyelids, figuring it was because she probably hadn't eaten all day.
But before she could even step out of her bathroom, the pain tripled and she doubled over to groan into her sink. She gripped onto the porcelain so hard with her mech hand that a small crack spread through the side.
It pierced through her head so intensely she swore her head was going to explode. A ringing flooded through her brain before it went silent again.
She was panting harshly, releasing the cold porcelain as she stands upright. Her eyes are still closed as she continues to rub at the sore skin. Once the aching subdues long enough for her to open them, she's hit with a blinding light.
Not like the yellow dim light of her bathroom but the light of a scorching sun. Her eyes adjust themselves to see that she's… outside? She turns around to see that she's no longer in her apartment but what appears to be a farmer's market.
What the fuck?
Sevika's headache returns as she tries to conceptualize what the hell is going on. Her eyes dart from vendor to vendor, realizing that she's in the Lanes; not the Lanes that she knows but a cleaner, peaceful version.
Did she take too much shimmer again and was having a lucid dream? Is she hallucinating from withdrawals? As she's racking her brain over what is happening to her, she hears something or someone that runs her blood cold.
"Sev?"
No.
"Hey, honey? Are you okay?”
Then a familar grasp touching her inner wrist, fingertips brushing against her pulse. A touch that she hasn't felt in Janna knows how long; so gentle and with nothing but pure intent.
It's not possible.
"Jesus, Sev, you look like you're about to hurl."
Another hand touches her upper bicep to tug her body to face what she's been convincing herself isn't real. You can't be here. The hand that was on her wrist reaches up to touch her face and she flinches.
Hard.
"Vika?"
The way your voice twinges with concern causes an image of your last moments with her to flash through her brain. How shameful she felt to leave you like that.
"I-I'm fine." She manages, still avoiding your face.
It hurts too much.
"Did you wanna go home? We can come back tomorrow if you're feeling sick." You attempt to understand how she's behaving.
Sevika's swallows the lump in her throat and forces herself to look into your eyes. Hot tears prick at her waterline as you somehow look even more beautiful from the last time she saw you.
You look… alive. Like you aren't living off of scraps, like you weren't pushing and fighting anymore. You look healthy and it's aching Sevika's heart.
"Okay, how about we go and get Isha and go home, yeah?" Your hand reaches for hers.
Sevika hesistates, guilt flooding her system. You don't let her think about it too long as you gently intertwine your fingers with hers.
She shuts her eyes to push back the tears.
Just as warm as she remembered.
"Y-Yeah, I think I just need to eat something." She lies as she allows you to practically drag her through the streets.
"Good thing we're going to Vander's. He always keeps your damn jerky sticks there." Your voice is light and teasing as you scrunch your nose up at her. "Plus, Powders got a ton of fruit hidden in her little lair."
Sevika merely nods along, trying to get her scrambled thoughts together. This is all just so confusing. How did she get here?
The second she enters The Last Drop with you, her eyes widen slightly at the brighter and more lively interior. What shocked her the most is seeing Vander right there at the bar and Silco's arm slung over his shoulders as they speak to Benzo.
That conversation ends the second they spot you and Sevika approaching the bar. Vander's eyes light up and Sevika's chest tightens as she remembers the last thing she ever said to Vander.
"You look weak."
"Mrs. and Mrs. Trouble. Good to see you guys around. I hear Powder's got Isha for the day." Vander's eyes crinkle as he dries off a glass.
Sevika's broad figure stands still as she watches you release her hand to give Vander a quick hug over the bar, cheery giggles leaving your mouth.
"Yeah, well, Sev's not feeling so good so we're gonna take her home."
Sevika still hasn't said a word to anyone since she entered the etsbalishment, feeling like a fish out of water. Everything is so… peaceful. She can't believe that this is her reality right now.
"You alright, Sevika?" Vander turns his attention to the silent, dazed woman.
Her grey eyes flicker to the man, nodding curtly before breathing out a weak 'yeah'. His eyes linger on Sevika for a second, obviously wanting to ask more questions but decided to keep his concern to himself.
Her gaze follows across the open, bright area of the new Last Drop, locking on the familiar white haired boy. Her eyes squint for a moment before realizing that he was staring right back.
"There a bug goin' 'round? Ekko's been a bit out of it since this morning. Maybe Sevika's caught the damn thing as well." Benzo's curious tone causes Sevika's head to snap to him.
You hum as your hand caresses her upper shoulders, shrugging to yourself. Is Ekko—?
Another familiar voice immerses from behind the bar before Sevika can finish her thought.
Sevika almost sighs but when she sees the blue haired girl, her eyes soften when she sees Isha standing right next to her. Her small hand holds onto two of Powder's fingers. Her big golden eyes widen and she lets out a squeal of excitement at the sight of you and Sevika.
"You're back early." Powder's lips curl into a small smile as she releases Isha to let her run up to Sevika.
Sevika stares down at her for a moment before kneeling down to pick her up like it was second nature. She blinks at Isha who signs something that she doesn't understand.
"Mama is not feelin' too good, angel. Do you want to come home or stay with Aunt Powder?" Your voice is low and sweet as you rub Isha's small back from her clinging position on Sevika's arm.
Mama.
You two are parents. To Isha.
Isha lifts her head up to stare into Sevika's eyes: gold meeting grey. She can feel her throat tigtehning, overwhelmed by the entirety of the situation and not knowing what to do with herself. She's trying more than ever to keep it together but it feels cruel.
Sevika leans her head to Isha's and presses her lips into her scalp, closing her eyes as she feels Isha's small arms wrap around her neck. Her tired sounds only make Sevika's heart ache even more than it was.
"Yeah, I think it's home time now. We'll catch you guys later then." You speak up for your small family.
Powder curtly nods, raising her hand to wave at you three. She signs a goodbye to Isha as she raises her two fingers to her forehead to wiggle them like a bunny. Isha giggles at the sight over Sevika's shoulder and does it back with the little energy she has left.
Sevika keeps Isha tightly to her with one arm underneath her bottom and her other hand finds yours as you make your way back to her place. Well, hers, yours and Ishas in… whatever place this is. A pocket dimesnion of what could be?
It was a blur of walking before Sevika's standing at the front door, you pulling out the key from your satchel to insert it into the slot. Isha had fallen asleep against her shoulder, arms now limp at her sides from her slumber.
"I think Powder just has her run around in circles until she gives out. She always knocks out the second she gets home." You chuckle as you push the door open to be met with the lovely smell of the candle that had been burning before you left the place.
Sevika hums to show she can at least hear you. Your brows set in a furrow as you shut the door behind you.
"Okay, Sevika, what is going on with you? Do you really have a bug like Ekko because truly, we'd have to go and let everyone know just in case they've been in your vicinity and if it's a bad bug, I don't need people calling us irresponsible parents especially if Isha starts to feel sick and she's been playing with the other kids down the street. I don't want to spread anything and have people calling—"
Sevika reaches forward to grab your shoulders with her two flesh hands that she doesn't even remember having. It's been so long since shes had both of her limbs.
"I'm not sick." Sevika emphasizes as she finds your frantic eyes.
"Maybe not but I know you, Sev. Something's up." You sigh, rubbing your forehead. "We've been together for a damn near decade and you don't think I know when somethings up with you?"
The only person who could ever see right through her bullshit. One of the things Sevika missed most about you. How you never cared about how 'scary' or 'intimidating' Sevika appeared to those around her; you were the only one to call her out when she acted even slightly differently.
"I don't…" Sevika raises her hand to her bridge of her strong nose, pinching at the cartilage in an attempt to suppress her headache. "I don't know what's wrong. It's going to sound—"
"Unbelievable? Weird?" You finish for her, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you stare at her with an unamused expression.
"Sev, I've been through everything with you. Just… talk to me, please. We'll figure out, okay?"
Sevika recognizes that tone. The same one that you had that night. The night she lost you. A mix of concern, frustration and devotion. Her eyes flutter shut for a moment to give herself a reset so she wouldn't burst into tears.
So, she tells you everything she can remember as you guide her to your living room couch. How she thinks someway, somehow she got placed into this universe that isn't her own, how one second she's in her bathroom and the next she's outside. She doesn't mention how you aren't hers.
But you're smart. Fuck, you always were.
"And us? Is this…" You motion to the air around you two, "how we are in your universe?"
Not anymore, her mind echoes. Thanks to me.
"No."
Your brows raise at the vague response but you don't question it any more. Sevika stares down at you, eyes rounding with vulnerability.
"I don't know how or even if I can go back."
You hum as you reach for the necklace that Sevika hadn't seen until now, rubbing your thumb over the ridge of the pendant.
"Well," you clear your throat. "I think we know a few smart kids that could help us. Powder and Ekko are prodigies with this sort of… thing."
Sevika nods slowly, eyes flickering to the necklace as you continued to fidget with it. You notice her silence and look at where her line of vision is locked on, pausing your twiddling.
"You got this for me. For our anniversary two years ago," you smile sweetly as you seem to reminisce on the moment that Sevika wishes she could look back on as well. "Well I guess not you but… the other you?"
Sevika chuckles at your confusion and nods to confirm.
"It's beautiful." She tells you softly.
You agree with a gentle 'yeah' as your eyes meet once again. You smile small at her as you tilt your head to the side, resting on her larger shoulder.
"We'll figure it out, Sev. I promise." You reach for her calloused hand, intertwining your fingers with hers.
Sevika tenses for a moment but relaxes when you rub at the back of her hand with your thumb. Her belief in your words gives her a sense of a comfort; remembering how easy it is when you're around.
"Hey little man! Hey Pow!"
Your voice stretches to the pair who are in his little lair. Sevika is right behind you with Isha hoisted up onto her hip. Her hair is left in its usual manner with a singular gray clip.
"Hey guys." Ekko waves from his standing position at the chalkboard before going back to doing the equation.
It's been almost a month since Sevika's been on this pocket dimension and she strangely is already used to it. She quickly fell into her role as Isha's mother and what this universes Sevika is like. It came so naturally; like maybe this is where she was meant to be all along.
With Isha, with Powder, with you.
It makes sense. So… maybe she could stay.
She didn't know how to bring it up. You've been so caught up with the kids participating in the Innovators Competition.
She doesn't need you growing another gray hair because of her selfishness.
"Your machine all up and running now 'cause I gotta get Pow ready for tonight." You scold Ekko jokingly as you point at him. "And you should be getting ready too. Mylo and Claggor don't want you guys to be late."
Powder set her own things down, giving Ekko one last look before walking up to you three. She has her bag slung across her body.
Isha wriggles in Sevika's grasp when Powder approaches, practically jumping off of her mother into her aunts' arms. Powder groans dramatically as she holds Isha close, causing Sevika to smile at the sight.
She's too engrossed in the moment to see that Ekko is standing right in front of her now.
"Heimerdinger said this should be good for tonight so," Ekko sighs, too, staring at Powder and Isha giggling amongst one another as you poke at the golden eyed girl. You were probably telling Isha to stop rolling her eyes like her mama.
A smile spreads on her face at the thought.
Sevika merely hums, turning to him slowly and raising a hand to clasp down on his shoulder.
"Thanks, kid. I'll see you tonight then."
Ekko opens his mouth but closes it quickly before nodding curtly. "Yeah. I'll see you, Sevika."
His eyes held something… regretful but he didn't utter what his mind had been thinking about. Sevika didn't push either because she's sure her eyes reflected his own.
After leaving the secluded lair, the four girls made a little salon at your and Sevika's place. Powder's getting her makeup and hair done by you, Isha being your sous-hairstylist by handing you the tools needed and watching intently.
And, well, Sevika makes a quick lunch for everyone, zoning out as she stirs the potato soup. Today is really it.
She'll leave. She'll go back to the world where she had to pick your beaten to a pulp body up from the ground in the alleyway behind the Last Drop, stupidly thinking that she could save you in time. She remembers how Singed told her there was no possible way the damage could be reversed; that you had lost too much blood. She'll see your gravestone again with a reminder of how soon she had failed you.
What kills her the most is how she could've stoped it. The chembarons decided to take you the second Sevika was vulnerable; too swept up in Silco's plan to avenge Zaun from Piltover. You had gotten into an argument with her just an hour before.
You had begged her to please stop this. She should've listened. She—
"Sev, are you done with the soup?" Your voice calls from the living room, snapping her out of her dooming daze.
Sevika shakes her head at herself, feeling more ridiculous than ever. She brings over the tray of bowls, trying not to let herself tear up at the sight of the different sizes for each member of your family.
You're touching up Powders hair when she walks into the living room, cracking a forced grin as she sets the tray down on the coffee table. Isha reaches for her bowl but you put your foot out to stop her.
"Hey. Wash your hands first, please." You remind your daughter.
Isha huffs before scurrying to the kitchen. Sevika chuckles before folding her arms and staring at your concentrated face as you glide the straightener through Powders strands. You haven't looked at her since she came over with the food.
Were you two avoiding a 'goodbye' or plotting for her to stay? She didn't want to ask or pry. What would be the point? At the end of all this, you'd still have a 'her'. The slowness of getting ready quickly turned into a frenzy as not only did you have to get Powder ready but you had to get yourself done up for the event as well.
Sevika didn't have to do much to get dressed as she, well, won't be staying here for much longer. She winced at her own harsh thought but sucked it up when Isha came to her with a pout, signing 'mama, help, please'.
So, after getting both herself and Isha all ready, you inform Sevika that you and Powder are ready for the event. Powder is adorning a dress in comparison to her casual wear, making her look so much like Felicia it pained her.
Her eyes widen at the sight of you in a delicate dress that she's seen before in her universe; the one that you wore on your very first date. She can't believe that you even have it in this universe and look somehow even more beautiful. She forces her eyes to focus on anything else, not wanting this to hurt more than it already does.
The four of you made your ways down to the Innovators Competition, Isha immediately running into the crowd to find either Mylo or Claggor. Powder excused herself from you and Sevika, dissppearing into the crowd as well.
"Well, they left us." You huff as you turn to Sevika with a dramatic sigh.
"No surprise there." Sevika hums back as she's fully looking at you now.
Your eyes are scanning the crowd, definitely making sure that Isha is in your peripheral. Now that she's able to enjoy you for a bit longer, she notices the slight dark shimmer on your eyes and glossier lips. The necklace glistens underneath the multicolored lights from above, shining down on your skin making you look like you stepped straight out of a dream.
Sensing her burning stare, your head turns to your wife as you tilt your head in curiosity. Sevika blinks at you before avoiding your gaze, standing upright as she wipes her clammy palms on her pant legs.
Before Sevika can even look for a drop of liquor, Isha's running up to you two and grabs one of each of your hands with a whine.
"Woah, sweetie, where are we going?" You chuckle at her eagerness.
Isha jerks her head towards the people dancing to the familiar song playing above.
There's a girl in town and word's gone around, she's just fine
Powder's already motioning for you and Sevika to come and dance along with her and Ekko. Sevika's never been one to… dance. She would stand in the corner, probably something strong in a glass and maybe nodding her if its truly a song she enjoyed. But if this is going to be the last moments with you, she wants to do it right.
So I don't worry my head 'cause I know her heart is tied to mine
Sevika raises her hand with Isha's hand clinging to three of her fingers, twirling her around on her booted feet. You beam at the sight and grab Powder to copy Sevika's motion and spin her around. The two of you throw your head back in elated laughter. Light giggles leave Isha's mouth as Sevika continues her exaggerated movments.
"Switch!" Powder says aloud as she guides you into Sevika's grasp.
She practically snatches Isha into her space, raising her hands up and rolling her shoulders. The little one copies her movements as she faces you and Sevika to sign 'look, Mama!'. You clap at her dancing before leaning into Sevika's larger frame with one hand on her forearm and the other on her broad shoulder.
The life that we live and the love that I give to her
"Janna, she dances exactly like her mom." You whisper to Sevika.
She nods blindly in agreement, her eyes never leaving your bright expression.
Her mouth tingles with hesitation as she stares at your bright eyes and smiles. Should she really… leave all this behind? Leave Isha? Leave Powder?
Leave you?
Maybe it is a selfish thing but oh, how she wishes it wasn't.
Each day it grows more and more I'm sure, it shows
Sucking in a deep balancing breath, Sevika detaches herself from you. She mutters a quick 'I'll be back' before making her way out of the convention area. She doesn't look back when she hears a confused noise come from you; not wanting to see the hurt on your face.
The music fades behind her as she finally steps back into the night outside.
She leans on the metal railing as she ducks her head to ease her aching head.
"Sevika!"
Fuck. Your voice calls out as your steps become more prominent. Keeping her head down, she tells you as calmly as she can manage: "I'm fine. Just needed some air."
You don't say anything for a moment, allowing the silence to fall between the two of you. Only the distant sounds of the busy streets and the convention center fill the space.
"You don't have to pretend with me."
This causes her head to finally lift up from its dropped postion. Her posture straightens as she releases the railing to fully turn towards you. Your eyes shine with love and concern, taking a few steps forward to reach for her hand.
She lets you take it.
"I'm not pretending." A lie.
You merely hum. "Maybe not. But you're trying to hide which is damn near close to pretending, Sev."
The fact that she thought she could fool you even for a second was a mistake on her part. You see her. You always have.
“I’ve only ever truly lived when you were there. I can’t breathe the same without you.”
“Sevika,” you turn to her and take the other one of her larger hands, fingers brushing over the softening callouses. “Sometimes, moving forward means leaving a few things behind.”
Her chest tightens at your words, hot, broken tears lining her eyes and clouding her vision. Her head becomes too heavy for her neck as she drops her head to hide the tears threatening her waterline.
“I can’t leave you. Not again, I can’t.” She whispers as if she’s convincing herself that it’ll change what has to be done.
You watch her back shake and your heart aches. You feel for her and hate to see your wife go through something like this. You think for a moment before reaching your free hand up to your necklace; one that your Sevika had given you the moment, your thumb tracing over the ridges of your initials embedded into the metal.
“Here.” You tug the necklace off, turning one of her shaking hands palm up.
You carefully let it trickle onto her hand, smiling solemnly as you shut her fingers around it.
“I can always get another one here just like that. You can take this back with you. Not to mourn me by, Vika. To remember to live again.”
The seconds were ticking; taunting Sevika that the moment she left your side, she couldn’t hold you again. She tightens her fist around it before nodding slowly.
"And if I can't?" Her voice is weak, a bit strained in her throat.
She knows what she's insinuating and she's hoping you don't freak out and tell her to not even think about going that route. You only release her hand to cup her scarred cheek, running your thumb over the skin.
"Then we'll be together again, Sevika." You whisper, your own eyes brimming with beautiful tears.
Sevika leans into your touch, her free hand finding your waist to pull you into her. You gasp softly at the sudden motion when she buries her face into the crook of your neck, wrapping her large forearms around your torso. She lets out shaky breaths as she clenches her fist into the fabric of your dress.
Shivers run down your spine as you carefully wrap your arms around her, sinking into her familar warmth. The two of stay like that for a while; wrapped in the last moments of each others' embrace.
It isn't too long before Ekko finds the two of you outside, sheepishly telling Sevika that Heimerdinger has everything ready.
"We have to go, Sevika."
He, too, seems to have his own hesistant attitude with the entirety of this. Sevika winces as if Ekko had slapped her on a wound.
In a way, he had. Not an external one, at least. Sevika reluctantly releases you from her hold, standing upright. She rolls her shoulders to ease the hefty tension in them. You nod at Ekko, sending him a small smile as you fixate your gaze to Sevika once more.
You didn't have to say a word for her know what you were thinking. Your brows rest in a heavy-hearted manner yet a pained smile decorated your face.
contains: modern!au, established relationship, 18+ content: bondage, safe word discussion, sub!ellie, dom!reader, bottom!ellie, top!reader, fingering (ellie!recieving), mentions of aftercare!
word count: 2K
a/n: kinktober DAY ONE! spoiling you all with submissive ellie! <333 reblogs & comments are appreciated, angels. enjoy!!!! xxx
kinktober 2025 masterlist
It was so sudden. Ellie spoke up in the middle breakfast as you're taking a bite of your toast.
"Could you tie me up one day?"
You sucked in a sharp breath at the casuality of her words, holding your chest to try and supress the cough itching at your throat.
"Like… handcuffs or rope?" You questioned back, needing to confirm of what your initial thought was.
Ellie merely shrugged her shoulders, a light blush tickling the tips of her ears. She expected you to be more hesitant but fuck, you were perfect about it as you are with anything.
"Either. I just… think it'll be hot." She admitted almost shyly.
You hummed in agreement. With a bright smile, you had leaned in closer to Ellie's figure sitting right beside you. You placed a gentle kiss to the hot skin of her cheek with a silent promise that you will do just that.
Within the next few days, you and Ellie had purchased a rope (of course, making sure that Ellie had a say in what kind and the material). When the time came, you and Ellie laid down the important rules.
Constant communication. Stoplight system — and don't be afraid to speak up when it's yellow: especially when it's red. Lots and lots of aftercare.
The session started light; like any other night the two of you would have sex. You and Ellie coincidentally both had off of work, the entirety of your afternoon and night being free to test this new exciting product in the bedroom. You, being the tease you are, left your prettiest matching lace bra and panties on while you had stripped Ellie down to just her boxers.
Her freckles highlighted her toned arms and shoulders, turning your mind to mush for a moment. How lucky are you.
You gently lay her down on the comforter of your shared bed, eyes locked on hers to make sure there's no confliction in her eyes. No, all you see are her awaiting expression.
"Arms up, baby." You instruct as you grab the rope from the bedside table.
Ellie hips shift on the mattress before carefully raising her wrist above her head, watching you walk around the bed. Her green eyes round as you praise her quietly for listening to you. You loop the rope around the metal headboard, her wrist tied not-too-tightly but just enough to make her feel that restraint.
You hum once it's secured. She's staring at you, waiting for you to touch her. You had already kissed her upper body all over as you had undressed her before this and now she's nothing but an aching mess.
"Such a good girl for me, Els." You place a gentle kiss to her lips, reaching a hand down to cup her small tit.
Ellie makes a whimper against your mouth, already tugging on the rope. You merely gently rub your thumb at her pebbled nipple, a smirk forming on your lips at her squirming.
"Needy already, baby? We just started." You tease as you lick over her trembling jaw.
Your wide-eyed girlfriend keeps her eyes locked on your figure, trailing up and down your body to admire you and twists her wrists in the binds desperately. The lingerie you purposely chose is driving her insane; her mind turning to mush at the sight of her hugging your perfect body.
Feeling over the moon, you begin to place gentle kisses all over her face and neck.
"Color?" You ask gently against her sternum.
"Green. So fucking green." She assures with a small smile, panting as you lean your head down to wrap your lips around her left tit and kneading the other.
Fuck, you have to be the strong one right now. The way the words are leaving her lips is making you temporarily forget that you've got her tied up. Not the other way around.
Your hands reach down to her boxer-briefs, slipping one underneath the band to tease the tips of your fingers over her aching slit. She's just as wet as you expected. You suck on her nipple as you take some of her arousal and circle her clit with your middle finger.
Ellie's hips are rolling against your hand, chasing your touch as soft pants leave her lips at the double stimulation. Your flushed girlfriend shuts her eyes when you release her tit with a soft 'pop' and remove your hand from her pussy. Ellie mutters a frusterated curse at the loss of touch but is slack-jawed when you begin tugging down her briefs.
"My needy girl," you hum as you lean down to kiss her hip bone, nibbling at the skin.
Ellie huffs, already imagining doing this to you so you can be a flustered mess; feel the state of desperation she’s in. With her underwear thrown to the side, you climb back onto the mattress so that you're in between her legs. You spread open her tight legs, kneeding your palms into the meat of her toned thighs. Ellie lets you handle her because, well, there's not much she can do.
You're eerily giddy to have Ellie in this position and she can't help but feel desired.
"Oh, Ellie," you hum as your palms splay across her ribs, watching her naked chest rise and fall and her blown pupils staring up at you, undeinably eager for you to do something other than admire her. "You're so pretty like this."
Her tongue peaks out to wipe over her panting lips, a low whimper leaving her lips.
"Say it for me, baby. Say you're pretty tied up for me." You lean down to place a feather-light kiss right next to her quivering lips.
Her head lolls to the side as she tugs at the rope tied around her wrists, the headband squeaking along with her. She releases a shaky sigh out, attmepting to compose herself.
You don't want her composed though. You want her a mess; a pretty, restrained, eager mess.
"I-I'm pretty for you." She repeats with a tilt of her jaw to try and chase your mouth.
Satisfied enough with this, you give her what she wants and lock your lips with hers. You slowly make out with her as your hand finds her weeping cunt once again, carefully sliding one of your fingers into her. Her lips twitch against yours but she doesn't stop your hungry make-out.
Pumping your fingers in and out of her, your tongues are sliding over one anothers as you suck on her lips. Ellie merely bucks her hips up into the feeling of your fingers curling against her sensitive spot, the heel of your palm grazing her clit.
"Hear how wet you are?" You taunt playfully in her ear as you thrust in and out of her.
Ellie nods, chest lighting aflame at the sound of it. She had been so focused on how good you feel to even thinka about herself.
"All for me, right?" You hum as you kiss her hot nose and cheeks.
"O-Only you. Only you, fuck." She affirms as she stutters out a moan when you use your thumb to rub at her aching clit.
Your fingers switch between a medium to slow pace, wanting to tease and edge Ellie: keep her just at the verge of needing more. Ellie can't remember the last time she's felt this… whiny.
It's rare Ellie would let herself submit like this in your relationship. She feels so safe here in your hold, under you just centimeters from already cumming.
"More."
You listen to her breathy begging, not wanting to be too mean. This time. Your arm pumps in and out of her, watching as her eyes roll back a bit as you speed up your rhythm. She nods in approval of the pace change, cursing relentlessly under her breath.
Your grin grows wide as you can feel your fingers being clamped down from her cunt tightening. You love it when she cums so easily for you. It doesn't take too much but fuck, when it happens you wish you could play it on repeat in your mind until the day you die.
"I can feel you, Ellie. You gonna cum for me?" You question with sloppy kiss against her chest.
"Please?"
You pretend to think, keeping that delicious pace inside of her. Ellie sobs out a whine as her hips are completely off the mattress now, almost making you slip out of her. You press them down in an instant with a soft sigh. She tugs on the ropes again, wanting to thrash in frustration but all she can do is lay there.
"I don't know. You pushed me away just now, baby. I don't think you want it that bad." You say with a taunting frown, watching her eyes prick with agony.
Ellie shook her head frantically. "I do. I want it, please. I wanna cum."
You see her eyes pricking with tears, leaning down to meet her face with yours.
"Color?" You wonder as you gradually slow your pace down.
Ellie's eyes flutter as she finds your face, seeing your concerned expression. She nods with a gentle 'green' leaving her lips.
Once you get that confirmation that she's okay, you place a loving kiss to her lips before sitting back up to continue your fast pace. Ellie can't help the pathetic whimpers and whines falling from her lips as she lets herself feel every ridge of your fingers.
"You can cum, baby. Be good for me." You encourage gently.
Ellie let's go the second you give her the okay, letting out the most beautiful moans and whimpers as you feel her hot cum dribbling over your fingers. You watch her hips buck and stutter up in the air as you rub over her clit some more to add to that pleasure.
"Ah— oh! Babe, fuuuck." She draws out as she chases her high.
You can't take your eyes off of her. Her hair is a frizzy mess, forehead and chest glistening with sweat. Her toned stomach is contracting as she tries to calm herself down from her intense orgasm.
Waiting for her to breathe a bit, you gradually remove your fingers from her. Your own cunt clenched around nothing at the sight of her cum dripping down your pointer and middle fingers.
You raise your hand up to her lips, taking the other to ease her jaw up some more. Ellie feels the fingers brushing over her lip. She opens her mouth to take your slick covered fingers inside, lapping up the cum with ease.
"You did so good, Els. So good, baby. Fuck, you're so pretty." You praise as you carefully remove your digits from her bobbing head.
Ellie whines at the sweet words and slumps forward, shivering as she tugs at the binds. Fuck. Right.
Being as gentle as you could manage, you untie her wrists and toss the rope to the side without a second thought. You take Ellie's wrists and frown a bit at the reddening and raw marks. You thumb the hot skin before placing soft kisses to where it ached the most.
Ellie, still not having said a word, releases a long stablizing sigh. You whisper praises onto the freckled skin.
"Baby?" Your voice is ever-so-loving as you continue to sweet gesture down either of her forearms. "Can you move for me? "
A few seconds of silence pass before Ellie makes hereself sit upright from the pillows to snuggle her flushed face into your shoulder. You hold her without hesitation as you lay back on the mattress with her head on your chest.
"You're the one being tied up next. Fuck, that was torture," she clings to you with a huff of a laugh. "But so good. I thought I saw some sort of angel for a few minutes."
"You mean me?" You question as you run your hands down your back.
Ellie nods against you, snuggling more into your chest.
"Fuck yeah."
After a few more minutes, you gather the strength to barry both you and Ellie to the bathroom to pee and shower. You tentatively wash her body; focusing on her aching wrists. You gently massage every aching part of her, each touch a promise to always be this sweet.
Four years of flying under the radar, being fully ostracized and unwanted … or so Mizu thinks. Someone at the very other end of the social spectrum has been watching and crushing … and now is ready to make a move.
~
A/N: Anon! I hope you don't mind that I hijacked your ask a little bit. That "seven minutes in heaven" animation trend completely took over my feed and I REALLY wanted to do a piece based around that trope.
Hopefully this still stays within the bounds of your expectations, despite the modifications!
This does have a scene of Mizu snapping at Reader, so proceed with that awareness. It just seems accurate, given the way she snarls at almost everyone at some point in canon. They make up later, don't worry!
I tried to make Reader’s friends as realistic as I could for spoiled 18-year-olds. Not monsters, but not great. They're open to interpretation as far as how much they were trying to help versus bully.
Not beta'd!!!
Both reader and Mizu are above 18, and both are wlw!!
~
TW: moderate spice, bullying, mean girl behavior (kinda), abandonment issues, Mizu yells at Reader in a public place (resolved), passing mentions of Taigen and M*kio
~
… It's safe to say Mizu is not popular.
Maybe it's the clothes. She usually just wears Eiji’s hand-me-downs, which do look odd on her tall, slim frame. Eiji has often mentioned getting her proper clothing of her own, but she usually just mumbles about being fine with the cast-offs. She swears she doesn't care. And while it is true that she's not bothered by what clothing she wears, as long as it's comfortable … it’s also true that she's afraid–after so long of bouncing around the foster system–that being any trouble at all might get her dropped again. The less difficulty she gives Eiji, the better, in her opinion.
For the same reason, she doesn't tell him about the problems she has with her classmates–particularly that fucking Taigen kid and his cronies. Eiji’s blindness means he can't see the bruises she gets from the constant battles, and it's easy enough to say she kicked a hammer or something if he asks why she's limping.
Even though she's never once picked a fight herself, the very public scrapes with Taigen and the other idiots quickly give her a reputation that comes with a wide berth of avoidance. If they aren't avoiding her out of fear, they avoid her to make sure they themselves aren't targeted. That suits Mizu fine. Especially now that she's of age, she’s only stayed in school at all to make sure she lives up to Eiji’s beliefs in her.
And it's not like she cares about the other people in her class.
She made it through to senior year with no friends. She'll make it through college in a few months. It's just something she has to do to achieve her goals. Friends are an unnecessary distraction. She doesn't want friends.
…
“Watch it, freak!”
Someone’s shoulder knocks hard into hers, and her bag slips from her shoulder. Pencils and books go everywhere. The unmistakable sound of Taigen’s laughter rings through the corridor. Swearing under her breath, Mizu immediately crouches, scrambling to gather it all up. She knows very well how many other assholes might like the opportunity to step on her things.
“Here.”
A pair of knees in clean, well-fitting clothes accompanies a very familiar voice, and a smooth, well-manicured hand offers a handful of her things.
It's you.
You're that girl–the one that doesn't seem to get the memo that Popular girls don't talk to people like her. The one that smiles at her sweetly in the hallway, so that she struggles to sleep the following night. The one with the hair that falls just-so across her cheekbones.
She doesn't look at you, just keeps her head down, face still as stone. “Thanks,” she says shortly, voice cold, and snatches the stuff from you, jamming it back in her bag. She waits any second for you to make some snide comment, or try to knock the stuff back out of her hand for a second round of laughter. Her jaw tightens. She shouldn't care–she should be ready to hit you back.
But she doesn't want to. And that scares her. She should be glad to have her illusions shattered so she can go back to pretending you don't exist.
And then you don't go.
You just stay, commenting positively on her stuff as you gather it up, calling the boys that knocked her down jerks, chatting to her about classes that you share. Being nice. And somehow, that's so confusing that it’s much, much worse.
She knows you weren't the one to hit her, but somehow, anger at Taigen has transferred to you. You’re pretty, and distracting. You're popular, like him. You two aren't friends. Maybe you laughed, too, while she wasn't looking. Maybe you feel bad about that, or you feel bad for her. That thought makes her want to scream. Frustration is reaching boiling point–at Taigen getting one over on her, at caring what you think, at being this close to you and still too trapped in her own head to be social, at being who she is–and she can't help the way her temper rises without control. None of this shows on her face, and you have no way of realizing how close to snapping she is.
Why are you still here, still helping her gather stuff? Why can't you stay out of her thoughts? Out of her life? If she was less stressed, she might have recognized how unfair and reactive this is, but in this moment, all she can think is Why won't you let her have peace.
“This is such a cool book,” you say, suddenly, and she looks up sharply. It's one of the books on smithing Eiji had recommended her, one he had once read before his accident, and it's decorated with many impressive color photos of swords. The sight of it in your small, soft hands makes her flinch–it's like feeling you touch her life directly, like she can feel you leaving your fingerprints directly on her soul.
“Give me that,” she snaps, snatching it roughly from your grip.
“I-I'm sorry, I'm just trying to help–”
“I. Didn't. Ask you to.”
The tension snaps, and she can't stop the words pouring out, not even when she sees you shrink back, your face flushing as people passing by turn to look. “I didn't ask you to yap at me, I didn't ask you to touch my stuff, so leave me alone.”
She glares at you, breathing heavily, and waits. Waits for the anger to come back her way, for you to lash out at her in return, or toss your hair bitchily and say something cutting, something that will finally ruin the allure of the sweet popular girl. Everyone’s eyes are on you. Surely you'll be furious to be so embarrassed in public.
“...okay.”
She blinks. Your face is still flushed as you scoot back a little, out of her space, and then stand up slowly. “Okay. I'll let you be. I'm sorry for … for bothering you.”
And you walk away quietly, just like that. Leaving her staring after you, not even hearing the whispers rippling out around her, the disapproving looks. She's used to those.
Whatever. You'll probably just ask some boyfriend to beat her up later.
She braces for it after school, but there's nobody waiting for her on her walk home, no aggressive shout to challenge her.
Just silence, and the sound of her own footsteps. Just your quiet “okay” echoing in her head.
That night, before sleep, she finds herself staring at the ceiling, and for a moment, just half a second only, she wonders if maybe she was wrong, and you were sincere.
She thinks back over all the time she's spent roaming the same halls, stuck in the same classes. She thinks about all the smiles you've given her, all the friendly greetings.
She closes her eyes, picturing the hurt look on your face, and opens them again, unable to stand it.
Thwack
Her pillow gets punched, hard, before she curls around it and buries her face.
Fuck. Why does she have to be like this.
~
Your friends are furious on your behalf, but you do your best to soothe them. You don't cry in front of them. You explain it away as being too invasive. You did just plop down and start talking to her without asking if it was okay. You did ask a bunch of questions even when she was already stressed.
You did exactly the thing you're not supposed to. You got too cocky, expecting to just be friends; you're not unaware that you're well-liked in school. You got right in the face of a wild animal you didn't know and started cooing to it like it was a pet.
And it bit you.
You should have known better. You've gone to school with her for nearly four years now.
But you just … you couldn’t seem to leave it alone.
You're not sure when Mizu caught your eye first.
You never saw her with anyone. She didn't smile or laugh with friends in the hallways, she was never cuddled against a locker with a sweetheart before homeroom. She didn't fidget with pencils or sneak a game on her phone under the desk, instead sitting quietly and almost supernaturally still.
But she wasn't some shy, shrinking violet. You've definitely seen her hunched outside the disciplinary office more than once, a bruised eye or a swollen lip marring her face. You had wanted to ask her then if she was okay, but everyone that got near her was treated to the same icy glare, and you were too intimidated.
You can vividly recall the first time she made your heart flutter for more than just her looks.
It was early in the morning. You were already focused on her enough to pay attention when you noticed her walking ahead of you by the edge of the athletics field. She always walked everywhere, and she always walked alone, with a faint slouch that still somehow looked graceful, like the prowl of a big cat.
You were watching her closely enough to notice when she suddenly stopped and bent down. You had hung back behind some cars as she straightened up, suddenly feeling strongly that you didn’t want to be seen by her at that moment.
As you were watching, she suddenly turned to the tree nearby, and lunged in a little vault, swarming up the sheer trunk like an acrobat. Wow. She had made it look so effortless. When she reached the first junction of branches, she placed the thing in her hand there delicately, and gracefully leaped down. As lightly as tiptoeing, not a sound or a flicker.
Then she walked away without another look, into the building.
When you reached the tree she'd climbed, you’d looked up into the branches in time to see a bird alight on the nest there, and a tiny beak emerge from it, shrieking its hunger.
That had been the first time you'd noticed her for more than just being a hot mystery girl. You became almost unnaturally aware of her presence, a little prickle on the back of your neck when she was in a room, as though your crush gave you powers of Mizu detection.
Sometimes, you had thought you felt her eyes on you. But every time you'd glance around, she was glaring at her lap as usual.
You wondered if she was ever curious about you the way you were about her. Did she notice the way you watched her? Did she think you were a creep? You should just talk to her …
Well. We saw how that turned out, you tell yourself grimly.
~
You’ve always had perfect attendance, but you take a few days off from school before an upcoming holiday, wanting a little time to regroup and decide what to do. You want to respect her space if she's genuinely not interested, but you also wish you could get a better chance to talk, when she hasn't just been bullied.
Your friends think you're crazy, at this point. Why do you want that girl?, they demand. You could have any girl you wanted. She comes to school in the weirdest clothes, she scowls at everybody, she lurks in the back of the classes like an evil spirit. Even the teachers seem to be a little afraid of her. They never call on her.
Your friends eye you skeptically when you defend her; they've never seen any of the sides of Mizu that you have, watching her as you do. But they’re still your friends, and they want to support you. Even if they give each other looks that say they're wondering if they should get you put on a psych hold.
~
You're at the shopping center when you see her next, after the incident in the hallway. She’s with an old man. The sight stops you in your tracks. You watch her hovering anxiously next to him as they cross the parking lot, clearly wanting to help but carefully respecting his autonomy. Her attention is fully on his every word, with a soft look of affection that you've never seen before.
At a quiet word from him, you see her smile for the first time. Just lightly, almost unconsciously.
Oh, you are so fucked.
And also not paying enough attention to notice the gleam of devilment in your friend's expression.
“Heyyyyyy, Mizu!” Your friend calls, before you can hush her, and both Mizu and the man stop dead, turning to look with twin expressions of grumpy confusion. The similarities would have been funny if you hadn't been trying to wrestle your friend to silence.
She jabs you in the ribs and slips from your grasp, running to meet them with you chasing after.
“Friends of yours, Mizu?” You can vaguely hear the old man dryly asking as you catch up.
Mizu’s stare is flat and hostile on your friend, one shoulder between the girl and the old man. She looks about a second away from actually baring her teeth.
She opens her mouth ominously, but your friend gets there first: “We're in Mizu’s class, sir.” At least she's sounding respectful enough.
“Ahh,” the old man says. His tone is mild, but there's a set to his mouth that reminds you of some of Mizu’s more skeptical expressions. He listens quietly as your friend introduces herself–but when she mentions that you're there and introduces you, he cocks his head to the side, eyebrows raising as he repeats your name like he recognizes it. You see Mizu’s posture freeze, but your friend is too determined upon whatever scheme she is cooking to notice.
“We're very sorry to interrupt your day, but I wanted to invite Mizu to my party this weekend,” she chirps. You feel your breath stop as Mizu’s head snaps towards her, eyes narrowing. The old man's eyebrows grow higher.
“Ah, is that so,” he says. He turns his head towards you–and even though his eyes are closed, you get the clear sense that he knows he's facing you directly. “And … you are all going to this … party?”
Your friend confirms this before you can say anything. You're not even sure what you would say. You meet Mizu’s eyes silently, both of you frozen helplessly in place, watching this happen like a train wreck. You hope she can see the apology in your eyes.
“Hmm...” The old man hums, and then puts a heavy hand on Mizu’s arm. “...It would be good if someone socialized more.”
Mizu looks horrified, then resigned. When there's a moment of silence, the old man thumps her lightly on the shin with his cane. She grunts, then says through her teeth, “Thank you for the invitation. I'll … see you there.”
She meets your gaze again, looking thunderous. Your friend beams.
Oh, boy...
~
You were running late.
God damn it. Why were you even trying to look good, anyway? Chances are she won't even show up. How would her father–if that’s who he was, you didn't get to ask–even know?
She clearly hadn’t wanted to go, and she clearly isn't fond of you, so why are you spending so damn long putting on this outfit, or that outfit? Your room looked like a hurricane had gone through it by the time you finally threw on an outfit at random and rushed out the door.
The party is in full swing when you arrive, music bumping, couples already lurking in the dark around the edges of the house. Your friend knows how to throw a good rager that would put the teen movie tropes to shame.
Your eyes scan the dark lawn, the trees, even the roof of the porch, assuming that if Mizu did show, she wouldn't exactly be in the center of the dance floor.
You're not surprised when you don't spot her. It should be a relief–you don't have to care anymore if you look good, since you aren't trying to impress anybody else.
But it isn't.
You shrug off your jacket and open the hall closet, only to quickly slam it again before the absolutely-packed pile of coats and other bits falls on you.
Okay. Different closet then.
As you're opening the next closet down the hall, your friend appears, beaming with delight. “Ohmigod, hiiiiii! You made it, finally. We were so scared you weren't coming!” She hugs you, then pushes the door shut, firmly. “Not that one. Terry puked in there like an hour ago.”
“Eww, really?” You wrinkle your nose. “I couldn't tell at all. Thanks for the warning.”
“I got you, girl! You can use the closet in the far back bedroom.”
“You're the best,” you say thankfully, and your friend smiles, sweetly, giving you another squeeze.
“You know I'm always gonna make sure you got what you need, girlfriend.”
~
Mizu has thought about this a lot. She can't not go. You guys found her once, what if you find her again? If this is a set-up to embarrass her, and surely it is, then someone in your group will definitely mention that she ghosted, to get her in trouble. She doesn't care about trouble, but the thought of Eiji’s quiet disappointment is too much to bear.
It's fine.
Mizu has a plan for surviving this nightmare.
It's very simple.
Hide in a closet, preferably one that's empty, so there's no chance of anyone coming in to get their coat. Meditate. Wait until everyone is too drunk to notice you, then sneak out and book it.
It's a pretty good plan, and it's working like a charm, right up until you open the closet door.
“Oh. Hi …”
For fuck’s sake.
~
You stare down at Mizu, frozen for a half second after your instinctive greeting. Words pile up and get tangled on your tongue. Sorry, didn't mean to intrude. Or maybe, sorry, I'll go now. Instead, what comes out is,
“Why are you in a closet?”
Before she can say anything, there's a sudden rustle of fabric behind you and someone shoves you hard on the back. You tumble into the closet with a yelp, and a pair of strong hands catch you before you hit the floor.
Mizu was already on her feet in the time it took you to fall, and for a moment, as she steadies you, you're dizzied by the sudden smell of clean detergent and smoky metal that clings to her clothing. She’s strong, and warm.
“...Alright?” She asks, more softly than you expected, and you nod, rubbing your arm where it struck the wall.
“Yeah. Thanks …” You try the door and it doesn't budge. “Hey!” You raise your voice a little. “What the hell!”
An explosion of giggles and laughter cascade outside the door, and you recognize your friends’ voices.
“Seven minutes in heaven!” They cry out in chorus, before collapsing into more mischievous giggles. Your face flushes in the dark, mortified.
“What the fuck, guys! Let us out, this isn't funny!”
“Chill, it's only seven minutes!” One of them calls back. Other voices rise in confirmation.
“Yeah, it’ll be fine!”
“Maybe this’ll cure your crush!”
“Have fun, lovebirds!”
You slam your shoulder into the door with a frustrated growl, but it doesn't budge. Damn these old houses and their actually-sturdy construction. You hear the sound of footsteps and chatter growing fainter, and then the bedroom door shuts. Despair engulfs you. If she yelled at you about the books, what are you in for now?
“I'm so, so sorry about this, I don't know what got into them…” You babble anxiously, one hand going up to unconsciously try to fix your hair, even though it's dark. You're so frantic that you're shaking.
Mizu has been watching you argue through the door and flail, with very little outward reaction. Now, she reaches up and pinches the bridge of her nose, other hand cocked on her hip.
“Your friends are jerks,” She informs you, and you hang your head, defeated.
“I know … I swear, I'm going to kill them.”
She shuffles you aside, again firmly but surprisingly gently, and tries the knob herself, to no avail. She tsks quietly, with a little sigh. Something about her calm resignation steadies you.
“Should have brought my lock picks,” she grumbles absently. But she seems far less irritated than you would have thought she would be.
“I really am sorry, Mizu, I swear, I didn't know–”
“It’s fine.” Her voice is still so oddly mild. As your eyes adjust, you can just make out her expression in the light from under the door. She looks … almost accepting. “I thought there would be something going on.” She shoots you one sharp side-glance. “You're not in on it?”
“No? In on what?” You ask, and the confusion in your voice sounds so sincere that any lingering doubt is gone. She looks down at the doorknob in her hand.
“You know.” Her voice sounds flat. Resigned. “Set up the weirdo with a popular kid. Laugh that they think they have a chance.”
You can feel your heart beat faster at the thought of you both together, but you're also horrified that she'd think you were here to humiliate her.
“What? I wouldn't do that!”
“You know, I actually believe that,” she agrees, grimly. She still won't look at you. “So I guess this is to humiliate you, too. So people think you're with me.”
You can feel your face flush, and pray it isn't visible in the dark. But then you look again at her downturned face, and something constricts in your chest. You're not going to let her think that way, even if it means embarrassing yourself in a different way.
“...That wouldn't be humiliating at all,” you murmur.
She gives a short snort of cynical laughter, and turns her face a little so you can't see it. Clearly the implication of your words has gone right over her head. You're about to push back, but she speaks again before you can.
“I'm– …” she seems to swallow her tongue for a moment on a gulp, before forcing out. “...sorry. For the other day.”
“Oh.” You blink in surprise. You want to blow it off, but it did hurt. You aren't going to lie about that, however, the apology is already more than accepted. “... Thank you. I'm sorry for freaking you out.”
“No, I …” She sighs again. “It wasn't about you.”
“No?”
Mizu drops the doorknob and thunks back down to sit on the floor of the closet, knees to her chest. It's the most ungraceful you've ever seen her.
“...I got asked out once,” she says, so quietly you almost can't hear her.
You crouch down slowly, until you're kneeling in front of her. You're afraid to speak. In the hush of the closet, her vulnerability feels strangely sacred.
She continues to speak to her knees. “He was popular, like you, and older… a senior. He seemed more mature than the others.”
You swallow back your surge of jealousy at the thought, and wait, listening patiently.
“... it was a prank.” She finishes heavily, fingers tightening to fists in the cloth of her pants. “I was supposed to meet him after school, and I got jumped by the whole football team instead.”
“Oh… Mizu…” Your chest aches. You put out a hand, afraid to be shoved away again, but she lets you rest it on her knee.
Her head thuds back against the wall. She glares at the ceiling of the closet. “It’s fine. Whatever. I'm over it. I just thought … maybe you were being nice to me for the same reason.”
Her pre-emptive lashing out suddenly makes so much more sense.
“I would never. He's a fucking idiot.” You say, with unusual venom. It startles her into looking at you for the first time. “He fucked up.”
She gives a reluctant, humorless chuckle. “Well, yeah, he did. I broke his nose.”
“Fuck yeah.” You hold up your hand, and she looks at it in confusion and surprise, before giving you the requested high-five, shaking her head. She looks almost amused. “You're awesome, Mizu. He missed out.”
She goes still, seemingly stunned. “You don't even know me.”
“I know enough,” you say seriously.
Unfortunately for you, she seems to finally be registering some of what's going on. Her gaze settles on you with an uncomfortable level of focus. It feels like your inner thoughts have been written out on your forehead, and she’s scanning over the lines. Slowly, the pieces are coming together.
Into her silent calculations, you decide you would rather go out on your own terms, before you have to see the moment of realization in her eyes probably turn to horror.
“And I think that … they probably didn't lock us in here to embarrass you but because they know … that … I have a crush on you.”
You keep your eyes on her knees. She's silent for so long that your stomach sinks–did you read the room wrong?–and you begin to catalog all the ways that you'll kill your friends for this.
Then, she says very quietly, “I thought they were talking to me.”
For a moment, you don't know what she means. And then like a lightbulb, you clearly hear one voice as it called, maybe this’ll cure your crush.
And Mizu thought … they were talking to her?
“You … D-do you … ?” You're too nervous to keep going.
Her blush is bright even in the dark, matching yours. In a sharp, jerky motion that betrays her nerves, she nods. Suddenly, you feel almost giddy; maybe there's not enough oxygen for two people in here…
“Oh– …” You can feel your face cracking into a goofy grin. “Oh, wow.”
“Shut up,” she snaps, but even you can hear that she's just flustered.
“No way am I ever shutting up about this,” you protest immediately. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
She looks torn between astonishment and amusement at your vigorous tone, but your next words make her freeze in shock. “I've been crushing on you since freshman year.”
Her eyes are wide enough for the dim light around the edges of the door to reflect in them. For a long silence, she processes this. Then, almost adorably, her face sets in sudden determination. She looks from your eyes to your mouth, and you can feel a thrill run up your spine.
“Do you want to get out of here?”
“Fuck yeah I do,” you say fervently.
Both of you look at the door.
Oh.
Right.
“...It’s definitely been more than seven minutes,” she finally comments.
“They probably met some boys and forgot about us,” you sigh. It is a house party, so you think it's probably likely they might also be tipsy already, You bite your lip, a hesitant smile blooming on your face. “We could … we could just start a little here, while we wait?”
She blinks at you, eyes narrowing as the corner of her mouth lifts. Being the sudden focus of all of that intense stare is making your stomach do flips. “... yeah?”
“That's the game, right?” Your pulse is fluttering, and your smile grows uncontrollably. You giggle, nervous and excited. “When in Rome … ”
“Hmph.” You can recognize the false crankiness in the tone now, versus the real deal. “I guess … an exception … “ she trails off distractedly as she shuffles up on her knees so that she's facing you, gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips.
Your breathing is shaking almost as much as your hands as you rest them on her shoulders. Both of you lean in, before hesitating at the first puff of breath on each others lips. You feel as though time almost stops for a moment, registering the warmth of her body so close, finally, and the solid reality of her hands gently finding your waist. This is real. It's really happening.
Then, like the decisive person she's always been, she pounces.
You let out a severely undignified squeak to find your lips suddenly under attack. Now those trembling fingers are twined tight around her neck, clinging in for life. She kisses like she fights; hard and fast, decisive–not afraid to get dirty.
Your skin feels suddenly hypersensitive as chapped lips work firmly against yours. Her hands are hard, gripping tightly before sliding to your hips. Her tongue presses hungrily at the seam of your mouth, a slick glide across your lower lip, a hint of teeth revealing her impatience. You part readily for her, shuffling a little closer. The fingers at your hips go bruisingly tight at your eagerness, a sharp breath sucking in through her nose. Quickly, the closet is full of heavy breathing, and the soft wet sounds of her invasion into you. Her tongue against yours is feverishly hot, teeth sharp where they sink into the plushness of your lower lip. It's like being devoured, or overrun–with every forceful flick, your mind melts further away. In the span of only a few moments, every coherent thought is being replaced by Mizu. Her scent is drowning you, while you float on the drugging taste of her.
One hand slides up to press between your shoulder blades, then up from there to the back of your neck, tangling her grip in your hair. In the same moment, she tugs you easily by the hips with one hand until you both tumble backwards and you land into her lap. Fuck. You can't resist a little moan. You're in her lap. And she moved you like it was nothing at all. Your noise prompts another sharp nip of teeth, and a husky groan that goes straight to your core.
The hand in your hair tugs your head to the side. God. She's so urgent for you that she's rough, and you're just as desperate. Your voice has gone high and breathless, uncaring of the setting, nails leaving red marks on her shoulder blades even through her thick shirt layers.
Everything between you is such molten heat that you're sweating in the tiny space. You barely notice. You've never realized arousal could feel like this. It's like an ache down to the very joints of your fingers, a need between your thighs that burns so white-hot you feel like you could die of it. Everything but Mizu could cease to exist and you're not sure you would ever notice.
~
Your friends did indeed forget about you, briefly. It's a party after all–and they played a long line of good songs for dancing, all in a row!
But they don't actually want a pair of suffocated bodies to deal with, so they eventually trail their way back to the bedroom, whispering and giggling, morbidly curious as to what's going on behind that door.
Maybe by now, you'll finally see that there's nothing in Mizu that's worth the effort. Maybe after sitting in silence and staring at each other for so long, you'll even want to hang out with them and talk shit about her.
But when they reach the door, they're surprised to hear sounds coming from inside, even through the thick wood. Not Mizu shouting, or even you shouting. Not a conversation.
The girls all turn to look at each other in confusion. Finally, the girl who lives in the house inserts her key, and the rest crowd around to watch as she slowly cracks open the closet door.
As the gap widens, a strip of illumination falls directly over Mizu’s face where it's buried in your neck. Blue eyes crack open under darkly furrowed brows. In the light, her icy gaze blazes with a possessive fury at the interruption, teeth still gripping the soft flesh at the base of your throat.
She says not a word, but the glare she levels them with snarls get out in no uncertain terms.
They gasp, stumbling backwards and falling all over each other. The door swings loosely as they all flee, too genuinely shocked and confused to even whisper to each other.
~
Mizu releases your neck.
“Door’s open,” she rasps throatily, and you open your eyes slowly, in a haze. It takes you a moment to recall how to speak. You turn your head to look around uninterestedly, then back to her.
“ … uh?”
God damn. Mizu nearly throws caution to the wind at the sight of you; perfect hair mussed to complete chaos, makeup smudged, eyes heavy-lidded and blown nearly black with lust. And you're looking at her, reaching for her, all but begging for even a crumb more of her touch. The sweet popular girl, putty under her touch.
She could just fuck you here…
But. No.
No more interruptions.
So, despite her own kiss-swollen lips and inky-blue eyes, she jerks her head at the half-open door. You look at it again, with a dazed frown of confusion. You're so far gone that it's adorable. How did that get open …? You can barely remember why it was closed.
A pair of strong arms bundles you close again; she can't resist nuzzling in under your jaw again, savoring your eager sigh, and the way you arch up against her. Your eyes close immediately as you surrender to her touch.
“Wanna get out of here?” She asks again, voice lower this time, a hungry playfulness in her tone.
You can only offer a whimper of assent as she nips again at the mark on your throat. You're not sure your legs will support you.
You both only make it as far as the shadow of a tree outside.